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Chapter Text

Blades of grass began to ripple in the breeze, their waves increasing in intensity until the field resembled a turbulent ocean. Xie Lian tore his focus from the young girl he had just checked for injuries after he saw her fall while playing, and glanced up at the sky. Clouds were beginning to swirl in an odd yet vaguely familiar pattern, but he knew that before he could allow himself to ponder what the scene reminded him of, he had to get the children to safety.

Hands on his hips, he called out cheerfully to the children, who were staring at the sky in alarm, over the roaring wind. “Alright, everyone, please return to your homes! It looks like a bad storm is coming, I’m sure your families will all be inside shortly as well. If you don’t have a home, come with me, I’ll find us shelter.”

Fortunately, all of the children scampered off towards various buildings in the village he had stumbled upon just an hour ago, and none stayed with Xie Lian. He breathed a sigh of relief. He hadn’t the faintest idea of where shelter was, and he had planned to shield the children himself if there truly was no place to go. Now, on his own, he could simply find some hole to curl up in and wait out the storm. 

But not even two steps into his quest to find an agreeable ditch, the howling of the winds turned into a high-pitched shriek and he whipped his head to the sky once more. In a cruel twist of fate, the clouds were swept into a funnel right above where he was standing.

Not wanting to be caught in whatever natural disaster awaited him, Xie Lian broke into a sprint. But to his dismay, it seemed that the clouds had a mind of their own and were targeting him specifically. Wisps of mist on the ground hounded him, as if trying to snatch at his feet. Realizing the harm that a sentient, malicious storm could bring to the village, he changed courses to run away from any buildings. However, in his panicked effort to put distance between himself and others, he must have grown careless, for he suddenly tripped over what seemed to be thin air. 

Pushing himself up from the ground, palms and knees scratched from his fall, Xie Lian tried to right himself. But to his dismay, it became obvious as he stared at the clouds circling his shins that he hadn’t in fact tripped, but that the mist itself had latched onto his ankles. Before he could struggle to get free, the clouds pounced on him, swallowed him up, and swept him away into the sky.

*

*

*

The Palace of Divine Might was just as Xie Lian had remembered it. Although he was glad for the villagers that the sentient storm really hadn’t been a storm after all, he was a bit disappointed to have ascended yet again.

Blinking more to rid his eyes of the dust that he had kicked up while landing, he was soon able to make out the shapes of two figures in front of him — one sitting, one standing dutifully next to the other.

“Your Highness, welcome back,” a female voice said in a tone that was neither friendly nor cold — the epitome of disinterest. The dust settled some more, and he could see that the standing figure was Ling Wen, and sitting on the divine throne was none other than Jun Wu. It was a bit strange, seeing the heavenly emperor again in all his divine glory after nearly eight hundred years of roaming the mortal world. As was proper, Xie Lian immediately dipped into a bow.

“Ah, thank you. I apologize for the dust I’ve brought into the palace.”

A gracious smile crossed Jun Wu’s face. “No need for apologies, Xianle. It’s good to see you again — I trust you’ve been well. Congratulations on your third ascension.”

Straightening up from his bow, Xie Lian met Jun Wu’s eyes with practiced politeness. “Thank you. I’m shocked that I haven’t caused more damage while ascending. The Palace of Divine Might seems perfectly intact, just a little dusty.”

At that, Ling Wen cleared her throat and shifted. “Actually, Your Highness, there has been quite a bit of damage. You see, Jun Wu sensed your ascension and redirected you to the Palace of Divine Might, which has a shielding spell in place. Unfortunately, the impact of your arrival rippled through the shield and has affected the rest of the Heavenly Capital. You may take a look out the window, if you like.” She gestured to the side.

Xie Lian wasn’t sure he even wanted to see the havoc he wreaked, but acquiesced. Sure enough, out the window he could see that buildings had been toppled, cavernous cracks had formed in the pavement, and gods were running frantically about. Based on the muffled cries he could hear from outside, it seemed that everyone was quite… keen on figuring out what or who had caused all the destruction.

Xie Lian swallowed and thought to himself, Why didn’t Jun Wu simply cast a protection spell over all of the Heavenly Capital? But he supposed it wasn’t his place to question the heavenly emperor.

“Ah I see… that is rather unfortunate,” he agreed, still staring out the window at the mess he had made.

“Xianle, I’d advise you not to go out there right now. If the other gods learn that your ascension was the reason for the property damage, they may demand unfair compensation from you. Currently, they have no idea what caused the destruction. But, Xianle, I’m afraid you will have to cover some, if not most, of the costs,” Jun Wu said slowly, as if he regretted being the one to punish Xie Lian, a sympathetic crease stretching across his brow.

Heart dropping a little at the thought of how much all that damage must cost, Xie Lian tore his gaze away from the window back towards the emperor, trying his best to appear apologetic. “Ah, my lord, I’m sorry to point this out, but I have no believers and no merits. It may take me a while to pay back my debt.”

Ling Wen spoke up. “Your Highness, you would be able to earn merits quickly without believers if you are willing to complete assignments for the Heavenly Capital.”

That sounded promising. Xie Lian was more than willing to be the Heavenly Capital’s errand boy. “Oh, wonderful. What task would get me the most merits?”

Ling Wen began to look a little hesitant, but continued to speak nonetheless. ”The top priority task which earns the most merits is rather… undesirable. There’s a reason it hasn’t been accepted by any other gods yet. However, completing it would fully cover your debt.”

It really sounded interesting now. Xie Lian smiled. “That sounds good to me. I have no problem doing unpleasant things.”

“Your Highness, you hardly know what you’re signing up for. Are you familiar with Crimson Rain Sought Flower?”

The question was asked in such a way that it seemed Ling Wen fully expected him to recognize the name, but unfortunately Xie Lian did not. “I can’t say I am, but that’s a lovely title.”

Jun Wu chuckled at naivety. Ling Wen simply gave a tight smile and began her explanation. “Crimson Rain Sought Flower is perhaps the greatest enemy of the heavens. He despises us, and has eradicated the temples of many gods in the past, leading to their nonexistence. Temple burnings and vandalization still occur frequently, and it’s suspected that he’s behind it. We’ve tried for years to reason with him, but to no avail. Currently, we have no idea what his motives are, besides pure evilness.”

Xie Lian hummed. “He sounds like quite the character! So, I take it you want me to try to find out the reason for his grudge against the heavens?”

“Yes, that’s correct. Unfortunately, like I said, he’s completely opposed to talking to us. Any god that ventures into Ghost City, his domain, to demand an audience with him is swiftly booted out in a humiliating fashion. Although you haven’t been a god for a while, he would likely still recognize you as being one in the past. He’s… surprisingly well-educated.”

This last part was said perhaps a little bitterly, but Xie Lian decided not to press. Perhaps the civil god was touchy about not being the most informed being in all the realms. 

“I see. Shall I approach him as a mortal then?”

“He’s not much friendlier with mortals, to be honest. He mostly ignores them, and apparently shows a mild disdain for the ones that visit his gambling den. I have no records of him socializing with mortals, except for the rumor that he saved a group of them while forging his spiritual weapon, E-Ming.”

That sounded very heroic for someone that the gods claimed was evil incarnate. However, Xie Lian was failing to see a solution to the problem at hand. “Well, I can’t visit him as a god, and I can’t visit him as a mortal. I’m sorry, but I think I’m at a loss on what to do.”

Jun Wu hummed as if he had expected this response. “Xianle, you’ll need to disguise yourself.”

“How, my lord? It sounds like he’ll be wary of any mortal or god he sees, regardless of what appearance I take on”

Stepping forward, Ling Wen pulled a scroll out of her sleeve. “Your Highness, there have been accounts of Crimson Rain acting more favorably towards nature and wildlife. His name comes from the story of him shielding a flower from his blood rain, and there’s a report that he once smiled at an animal he saw,” she stated, pointing at the referenced text.

“Oh? What kind of animal was it?”

“A stoat.”

Xie Lian blinked as it all started to come into place. “Ah. So you’d like me to disguise myself as a stoat in order to approach him?”

Although both Jun Wu and Ling Wen nodded, Ling Wen’s expression seemed to have a trace of pity in it.

Still slightly confused, Xie Lian couldn’t help but pose another question. “But how will meeting Crimson Rain as a stoat allow me to learn anything? I won’t be able to talk to him and befriend him.”

This elicited a quiet chuckle from Jun Wu. “Xianle, what makes you think you need to talk to him or be his friend? You simply need to observe him for a while. I’m sure that alone will be very informative.”

Xie Lian was taken aback. “You… want me to spy?”

“Don’t think of it as spying. Thinking of it as… playing the role of a beloved pet.”

Ling Wen cast her gaze to the side as Jun Wu spoke, as if embarrassed on Xie Lian’s behalf. However, Xie Lian felt a growing sense of apprehension for an entirely different reason. “I don’t know if it’s quite right for me to violate someone’s privacy like that,” he said timidly.

This seemed to cause Jun Wu’s expression to turn serious. “Hua Cheng is too big of a threat to continue to ignore. We need to know what we’re working against. Xianle, a spy will be sent regardless of whether or not it’s you. If you refuse, I’ll simply send a clone if no other god is willing to take on the task. However, this would be a good opportunity for you to pay back your debts,” he explained, sounding more than a little paternal.

The fact that a spy would be sent anyways did change things in Xie Lian’s mind. Although it seemed unethical to spy on someone, it might be better if he was the one to do it, especially if a clone would be sent otherwise. The truth was that Xie Lian probably wasn’t as judgemental as the other gods. After all, what right had he to be judgemental? He had spent long enough rolling about in the mud to know humility. 

Perhaps the thing to do would be to accept the mission and simply waste a bit of time in Ghost City. He could take on a more passive role, and not interfere with anyone’s privacy. And if he accidentally uncovered something embarrassing about Hua Cheng, he could hide it from the other gods. He, unlike the rest of the heavens, had no personal misgivings toward Hua Cheng, and wouldn’t feel the need to unnecessarily expose him. If things truly started to feel unethical, he could always walk away and say the mission was unsuccessful. Although another spy might be sent later, at least Xie Lian could delay that a bit.

Weighing this all carefully, Xie Lian reached a decision. “Alright, I’ll do it.”

Pleased, Jun Wu sat back a little in his throne. “Good, I’m glad. However, there are a few things to discuss. First, we’ll have to drop you off at the outskirts of Ghost City, since we have no access point inside. Luckily, the efforts of a few gods have uncovered a reliable entrance to the city, which you can take. 

“Second, you’ll have to keep your spiritual device concealed. I can mask its energy and shrink it to fit around your neck, but you must act as if it’s a normal ribbon unless you run into danger and need to use it. 

“That leads to the third point — it’s imperative that we devise a contingency plan in case you do find yourself in a perilous situation.”

Xie Lian grinned cheerfully at that. “Well, I’m probably the best suited for dangerous scenarios, since I can’t permanently die!” 

Ling Wen and Jun Wu didn’t look amused at his comment, so he cleared his throat and tried again, this time more seriously. “The biggest issue would be me getting stuck in Ghost City. I could die there again and again, without ever finding a way out. In a small, weak form, it also would be easy for someone to trap me.”

Ling Wen appeared thoughtful. “You can’t possess any spiritual energy during this mission since it can too easily be detected by Hua Cheng. That rules out using the communication array. However, you’ll still have inner thoughts while transformed since the spell only affects the body and not the soul. If you found yourself in danger, you could offer a prayer to Jun Wu or me. A prayer from a stoat is rare enough that we’ll be likely to notice it quickly.”

This made sense to Xie Lian, and he nodded. “When should I start?”

Another smile flitted across Jun Wu’s face. “Always so eager, Xianle. You can start whenever you’d like. Just let me know so I can disguise you and send you down.”

Xie Lian clasped his hands together in front of him. “Well, there’s no time like the present!” he said with a grin. He brought his hand to his wrist and gave Ruoye, who laid wrapped around him, a pat. “Ruoye, you’ll have to be on your best behavior.”

Ruoye wriggled in response, and squeezed his wrist affectionately. Xie Lian took that as a sign of agreement, and stepped forward towards the throne. “Ok, I’m ready!”

*

*

*

Being a stoat was surprisingly fun, much to Xie Lian’s excitement. It was far easier to slip about unnoticed, and when he was noticed, he didn’t get such judgemental looks for being dirty. Xie Lian had realized all of this after just a short while of being in his new body. He had been deposited at a temple in a town a few miles outside the entrance to Ghost City, and was able to weave his way around mortals effortlessly. Since it was winter in the mortal realm, Jun Wu had given him the pure white coat of an ermine. Xie Lian hoped that he’d get to keep it, even if the mission lasted beyond the season’s end, for two reasons — the first being that he always preferred white, and the second being that the townspeople seemed to find it cute. It was nice to be smiled at for a change.

So he padded along the path he had been told to follow to the neighboring forest, and enjoyed the novelty of not being human. Eight hundred years was a long time, and new experiences were hard to come by. Xie Lian was determined to make the most of this opportunity, even if it did mean his humanity was temporarily stripped from him. He just tried not to dwell on that particular aspect of his mission too much.

As he entered the woods, the trees towered over him, to the point where he’d have to stop scurrying and look up as far as he could in order to see the tops of their branches. Unlike when he roamed forests as a human, none of the wildlife seemed to be alerted by his presence. To be so small, so insignificant, so forgettable, was almost reassuring in a strange way. He had spent centuries trying to be forgotten, and while successful, he still could never escape the feeling of being perceived by others. 

He continued with a bounce in his trot, and after an afternoon of wading through brush and roots, he spotted a wall with a red moon gate in the distance. It was a sharp contrast to the greenery of the woods, and the sight made him speed up towards it.

The wall was small, only spanning the length of a person, and on the other side looked only to be more forest. To the unassuming eye, the presence of the wall and moon gate seemed completely unnecessary. However, it perfectly matched the description of the entrance to Ghost City that Ling Wen had described. Xie Lian passed through it without a second thought, and immediately was engulfed in a strange red fog as he exited on the other side of the wall.

Used to the unusual, Xie Lian pressed onwards, and found that the haze slowly started to dissipate. The shapes of a city began to unveil in front of him, with a red tinge remaining in the air. Once it all came into view, it was unlike any city he had seen in all his years. The main street he found himself on appeared endless, and a plethora of stalls lined the walkways. Even if he was his normal self Xie Lian was sure he would have found it dizzying, and as a small creature it was even more so.

Ghosts of all sorts of appearances wearing expressive masks fluttered around the market. The  din of the rabble and the loud calls of peddlers selling their wares mixed together, creating a rambunctious cacophony. It was a bit loud for his sensitive hearing, but Xie Lian made a mental note to visit again once he was back to being human. The city was quite lively, and might be fun to explore in his usual, more sturdy form.

Suddenly, a bag came crashing down right next to his head, and he looked up in alarm. A female ghost was staring down at him with a horrified expression. “Aah! A rat! Why does vermin keep crawling in from the mortal world? This city needs better pest control!”

Xie Lian found that a bit offensive. He was a cute stoat, not some street rat, thank you very much. However, his displeasure was quickly cut short as a boar-headed ghost rushed out from his shop. “A rat? Where? What great timing, I need the tail of one for my stew!”

Maybe being a stoat wasn’t so fun after all. Xie Lian took off with a bound, hurrying to the first alley he could find. The white fur coating him that he had previously admired now seemed far too stark and noticeable. He didn’t dare look back as he raced towards a small space between two buildings. The boar butcher was likely on his tail, literally, and it wasn’t easy to turn his head to peek over his shoulder as a stoat. That would waste valuable escape time. 

As he thankfully managed to shimmy into the crevice, the butcher sighed. “What a flighty little thing.” Then, Xie Lian was glad to hear the sound of footsteps retreating. His heart finally stopped racing, and he continued walking at a more casual pace to the other side of the narrow opening. A new street unfolded in front of him, this one looking more residential. Ghost children were running about, couples were strolling hand-in-hand, and the elderly sat on benches along a nearby river. It was unexpectedly tranquil for a city that Xie Lian had only heard described as hellishly chaotic.

Deeming this street much safer to travel on, Xie Lian picked a direction and started walking along a hazily-lit sidewalk. He hadn’t a clue on where to find Hua Cheng, and reasoned that he might overhear something helpful if he listened in on enough conversations.

However, after half a day of eavesdropping on random passersby, this began to seem fruitless. The only talk pertaining to Hua Cheng that he heard was the tall tales of a ghost child who claimed to have fought thirty-three gods with Crimson Rain. Although entertaining, it wasn’t quite what Xie Lian was looking for. He snuck out of the bush he was hiding in and made a move past the gaggle of children. Unfortunately, as a bright white blob against a mostly red background, he stuck out like a sore thumb and was almost immediately spotted.

“Look, a weird ferret thing!” one of the children cried out, pointing a finger in his direction. Xie Lian sighed internally. Did no one know what a stoat was?

Another child gasped. “Oh! That’s a stoat!”

Thank you! What a smart child , Xie Lian hummed to himself. He finally felt validated.

The smart child continued, her face lighting up. “There’s a rumor that Chengzhu once smiled at a stoat! We could catch this one and give it to him!”

Who would have thought that a solution would present itself like that? Xie Lian almost didn’t trust it. His bad luck would surely never have allowed him to find such an easy way to Hua Cheng. However, the growing excitement in the children’s eyes was impossible for him to ignore. They looked so happy at the thought of giving a gift to their city lord. It warmed Xie Lian’s heart, and he decided that Chengzhu must be a kind and just ruler. Perhaps his bad luck would just strike later, and he could accept this opportunity without worry.

So, he trotted right up to the children, much to their delight. The girl with the idea of catching him reached out her hands, and he carefully settled in her palms. She grinned. 

“That was so easy! I thought stoats weren’t friendly with humans, but I guess this one is special! Come on, let’s go to Paradise Manor. If we wait outside, maybe we’ll catch Chengzhu.”

And so, the children ran off in the complete opposite direction from where Xie Lian was going next. It’s a good thing they’re taking me , he thought. I might never have found the place.

One of the other children, who appeared to be the youngest, spoke up from the side as they ran. “Chengzhu’s smiles are so hard to come by. I can’t wait to see his reaction! I wonder what kind of garment he’ll make with its coat…”

Suddenly, Xie Lian understood that his bad luck had struck after all.

Chapter Text

As he was promptly hauled away by giggling ghost children, Xie Lian mentally ran through his options. 

He could probably squirm enough to wriggle free without harming the child holding him. However, that didn’t solve the problem of him not knowing how to get to Hua Cheng. The children mentioned a place called Paradise Manor which seemed to be his home, but how exactly would Xie Lian go about finding it?

He could allow the children to take him and flee at the first sign of getting skinned for his coat. Surely the children wouldn’t do it themselves before giving him to Hua Cheng, right?

… Perhaps he should be prepared for that possibility. Ghost children seemed very different from mortal children.

Being skinned was a torture Xie Lian had yet to experience, and while he hoped they would be kind enough to kill him first, he wasn’t keen on letting it happen. He didn’t want to think about what it would be like to come back to life from that. It would have all been much more worrying if it weren’t for Ruoye’s presence wrapped around his neck like a comforting scarf. Ruoye’s white silk blended in with Xie Lian’s fur and was slightly covered by it, and thus had gone undetected so far. However, Xie Lian didn’t expect that unusual good luck to last. Soon, a ghost was sure to notice the ribbon around his neck and would possibly try to take it away. That couldn’t be allowed, of course — how would he even go about tracking Ruoye down? While trapped in a small, vaguely squiggly body, Xie Lian figured he could hiss and nip enough to the point people would leave him alone. And if worse came to worst, he could bite, though the thought of that felt a little demeaning, like he was just some animal. Which he supposed he was, but not truly, right?

Deciding just to see how things played out, Xie Lian kept his gaze focused ahead as the children ran. The journey was jarring, as they seemed oblivious to his smallness and bounded gleefully with abandon. Every jump, every whoop, every skip jostled him. Although he had taken many a tumble in his life, it was an entirely different matter now that he was only about the length of a foot. Movements, sounds, and smells seemed much more overwhelming than before. However, it was just another thing to get used to, and Xie Lian tried to distract himself by imagining what a ghost king would be like. 

Before his recent ascension, he had never heard of a ghost king. From what he could gather, the fault was entirely with him being a wanderer who never settled down long enough to hear such stories. Ghost kings were well-known and feared entities in all realms, which suggested their form was terrifying to mortals. Perhaps Hua Cheng would be a gruesome beastman, or a sinister red shadow. Maybe he’d be cruel to those around him, pure evil as the gods seemed to think. But Xie Lian was well aware of how rumors and stories could spiral out of control, and decided there was simply no way of knowing what Hua Cheng was truly like without actually meeting the man.

After turning a corner, then another one, then running up a long hill, the bunch of them reached red gates surrounding an opulent estate. Through the latticing of the gate, a lush garden could be seen in full bloom, even though the mortal world was currently shrouded in harsh winter. Seasons were different in Ghost City, Xie Lian supposed, for he had felt perfectly comfortable with the weather the whole time.

The girl holding him came to a stop by the entrance. “Ok, this is it! We’ll wait for Chengzhu here.”

A little boy spoke up, sounding a bit nervous as he glanced around him. “Min, are you sure Chengzhu won’t be upset that we’re loitering around his property?”

The girl, who must have been Min, shifted Xie Lian to rest in the grip of one hand, letting him dangle a bit, and waved off the other’s concern with her free hand. “Nah, I don’t think Chengzhu is easily bothered like that. Maybe he’d get mad if we broke in or something, but I’ve played around here before and he just side-eyes me when he walks by.”

This description of Crimson Rain was very different from the volatile, wicked person Ling Wen and Jun Wu had portrayed. It was becoming increasingly likely that the gods had misrepresented the man, at least a little. Maybe he was simply a ghost who was upfront and fair with his business, even if it was a little questionable. After all, the thirty-three gods hadn’t been forced to accept his challenge.

A chiding voice in the back of his mind reminded him that, in a sense, Xie Lian was trying to break into his home, if he didn’t get skinned first. At the very least, it would be a clear invasion of privacy. At worst, it would be a heartless betrayal. For how, in good consciousness, could Xie Lian act like some adorable animal companion and lurk around Crimson Rain when in fact he was a washed-up god of disaster? Hua Cheng would rightfully be disgusted. It would be a hard line to navigate, spending just enough time to find out the reason for Hua Cheng’s hatred of the heavens without uncovering anything more and without forming some emotional bond that would only be later destroyed. Of course, there was a high chance Hua Cheng wouldn’t even care for some critter off the streets, and simply refuse him. Or, like the children believed, he may really just like stoats for their coats. Xie Lian almost preferred that. At least he could say that he tried, and could run away to end the mission on a clean conscience.

As Min held him like a limp noodle in her hand, she ran her thumb along his spine. It was a physical reminder of how small he was, and Xie Lian was forced to suppress an uncomfortable shiver. Suddenly, her thumb stopped at Ruoye around his neck as she felt the silk, and a sense of dread washed over him.

“Oh, it has a little ribbon! Maybe it was actually a lost pet, hmm… Well, what greater honor is there than letting Chengzhu have your pet for his coat? I’m sure the owner won’t mind even if they ever manage to find out.” 

Xie Lian found this logic to be more than a bit flawed and inconsiderate of the hypothetical owner, but at least he really wasn’t some lost pet in danger.

However, any sense of comfort was short-lived as Min began to play more with Ruoye, slightly unraveling it. Xie Lian immediately started to squirm violently, but stopped when he heard a little gasp.

“Oh, it’s a leash! The other end was tucked into the loop around his neck. I’ll put you down, don’t worry little guy. Look, it’s actually pretty long!”

She set Xie Lian down, and sure enough, Ruoye extended from her hand to his collar. 

Few things shocked or affected Xie Lian anymore, but this… Somehow, it invoked some strange sense of hurt, of lowliness. And while he was used to both emotions, this felt different. Surely it was just a practical measure implemented by Jun Wu during his transformation, but Xie Lian couldn’t shake the painful way it reminded him of his subhuman state.

It reminded him of his shackles.

Thankfully, he wasn’t allowed much time to reflect on this odd emotion, for the youngest child suddenly pointed at something. “Ah, look, it’s Waning Moon Officer! Should we just go up to him instead?”

Another child seemed to like that idea. “Yes, let’s do that. Chengzhu may not be mean, but he’s still scary. Waning Moon Officer is much more approachable.”

Min frowned as she considered this. “What if he doesn’t tell Chengzhu it’s from us? We won’t get credit.”

“Waning Moon Officer seems nice enough. Besides, look at the butterfly on his shoulder. Chengzhu’s watching.”

Sure enough, a silver, shimmering butterfly was resting on the shoulder of a dark-robed man wearing a ghost mask. The mask’s face was contorted into some sorrowful smile that was vaguely eerie. Xie Lian found him a little curious, but definitely not anything that stood out from the rest of Ghost City, and his eyes unconsciously wandered away.

Sighing, Min relented. “Ok, fine. I guess we don’t know when or if we’d run into Chengzhu anyways. This is more convenient.”

And so, with a quick gait, she tugged Xie Lian in the direction of the masked man as the other children followed behind her. 

“Waning Moon Officer! Waning Moon Officer!”

The man startled a little, as if he was unused to having someone address him like that. He paused his step and turned towards the children.

“... Hello,” said a plain voice behind the mask.

The children were getting excited, and began to jitter in place. Min couldn’t contain herself any longer, and spoke up before the rest. “We’ve found something for Chengzhu! He likes these things, right?”

The Waning Moon Officer stared blankly ahead at them, seeming confused on what she was referring to. Finally, he took notice of the silk in her hand and trailed his eyes down its length before noticing Xie Lian. He was still for a few seconds, and although his mask covered any sign of emotion, it seemed his confusion hadn’t left him.

“Oh, hmm. I suppose there is that story about him almost smiling at one. But I’ll be honest with you, I don’t really know his thoughts on them.”

The children seemed to sink at that, and Xie Lian felt the hold on Ruoye slacked a little. However, Min quickly recovered. “Well, that’s ok! Just give it to him anyways, and if he likes it, tell him it’s from us! I’m Min, this is Da, this is Haomu, and this is Jing. If Chengzhu doesn’t like it, don’t mention us and let the little guy go or something, I guess.”

Min may have had misguided opinions on animal care, but no one could argue that she wasn’t quick-witted and opportunistic.

Not having any excuse not to, the Waning Moon Officer exhaled, sounding rather inconvenienced, and held out his hand. “Ok, fine. I guess my lunch break can wait.”

Cheers bubbled up from children, and Xie Lian couldn’t help but feel happy for them, even if it meant he was forced along on his mission and would possibly be brutally killed. Min handed off his leash with a wide grin.

“Thank you Mr. Waning Moon Officer! You’re the best!”

The masked man rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand as the children darted back towards the direction they came from. “Geez…”

Sighing, he fished around in his pocket and pulled out a pair of dice. Xie Lian looked up at him in fascination — what on earth would he need dice for right now? The Waning Moon Officer clutched them in his hand, gave them a good shake, and tossed them on the ground. Like magic, a transportation array opened up in front of them, and Xie Lian almost skidded back in surprise. How advanced!

Silently, the Waning Moon Officer led him through. As they stepped out on the other side, a lavish room materialized before them. Xie Lian’s first inclination was to look around and revel in such finery, but a figure in front of them, sitting in the center of a plush divan, instantly commanded his attention. His eyes seemed to gravitate there naturally, and a foreign feeling stirred in him.

No one had warned him about how handsome the ghost king was!

Although the man hadn’t looked up from his scroll yet, Xie Lian could make out dark eyelashes on one visible eye cast downwards and a black leather eyepatch on the other. Long, slightly mussed, ink-black hair fell over broad shoulders, like the mane of some untamed beast. A strong jaw could be spied behind the curtain of hair, and a stately nose protruded from his face. However, it was the twist to his lips that caught Xie Lian’s focus the most. There was an anxiousness, or residual sadness to his mouth that Xie Lian found a bit heartbreaking on such a impressive person.

Deep in concentration, Crimson Rain continued to stare at the scroll, even as the Waning Moon Officer started talking. “Chengzhu, there’s a gift from the residents.”

Crimson Rain scoffed, a deep and chilling thing, without looking up. “I don’t need more gifts from them. I thought I told you to refuse those.”

The grip on Xie Lian’s leash tightened, as if the Waning Moon Officer was debating what to do or say. “It’s from some of the children though, and they seemed excited for you to see it.”

Finally Hua Cheng glanced up from his scroll and slowly stood up, his ornament jingling as he straightened. It was then that Xie Lian took note of the elegant yet wild red robes the man wore, adorned with silver butterfly accessories and chains. It suited him well.

Hua Cheng frowned at the Waning Moon Officer, looking a little peeved. “Well, where is it?”

Waning Moon Officer simply pointed down, and Hua Cheng finally looked at the ground and made eye contact with him.

It was the first time someone had looked at him so intensely in a while, and Xie Lian wondered if he was making a good first impression. Maybe he should act friendly to reduce his chances of being made into a coat. So, he let out a small chirp, and the ghost king’s lips tugged upwards ever so slightly, almost imperceptibly. It quickly faded.

Still staring at him, Hua Cheng spoke neutrally. “A stoat? Where did they find one? I’ve not seen them in Ghost City before.”

“I’m not sure. They didn’t explain when they handed me him with this leash they must have found somewhere.”

Tearing his eyes away from Xie Lian’s, Hua Cheng glanced at the leash and frowned. “Take that thing off him. He’s not some domesticated animal, it’s cruel to keep him tied up like that.”

A warmth filled Xie Lian’s chest. Although he knew Hua Cheng meant nothing of it, somehow his words dug deeper.

However, as the Waning Moon Officer dipped down to untie Ruoye from his neck, Xie Lian was reminded of how Ruoye could be easily lost, and jerked back with an unintentional hiss. The harsh sound shocked him — had he really made such a brutish noise? It was unsettling to think about. 

Fortunately, the masked man drew back his hand from Ruoye with a hum. “It looks like he wants to keep the ribbon. Maybe he’s gotten attached to it. Should I still take it off?”

The last part was said a little reluctantly, as if the Waning Moon Officer dreaded being bit. However, Hua Cheng simply stared at Xie Lian with a cloudy expression before shaking his head.

“Let him keep it, just wrap the end around his neck so he won’t trip on it.”

How kind for a notorious ghost king! Any lingering concern of being killed for his coat disappeared, and his heart skipped a beat. Swept up in his relief, he chirped again. And again, the ghost king’s frown eased and wavered a little.

“Of course, Chengzhu.” Swift hands descended on him yet again, looping Ruoye back into something of a scarf around his neck. Things were going exceptionally well, in Xie Lian’s opinion.

Without warning, Crimson Rain dropped down to a crouch in front of Xie Lian, something he had never expected a supreme ghost king to do. After all, who would stoop so low, literally? Yet, a burning eye gazed at him regardless, as if carefully examining him. 

It could only have been a minute that passed, but to Xie Lian, it felt like hours. Finally, Hua Cheng nodded decisively.

“I’ll take him outside, I’ll be back in a minute.”

The Waning Moon Officer bowed his head. “I take it you don’t want the creature. My apologies for disrupting you, then.”

Hua Cheng just hummed dismissively. “It’s not that. I just don’t think it’s fair to keep a wild animal stuck indoors, that’s all,” he said in a casual tone.

Xie Lian felt he liked Crimson Rain Sought Flower quite a bit, perhaps more than any god he’d met so far.

Still crouched down, Hua Cheng extended his arms slowly, and laid his hands on the ground. Without much thought, Xie Lian stepped forward onto his palms, and a gentle grasp closed around him. Despite being lifted up into the air as Hua Cheng stood, he felt a strange sense of comfort and grounding.

Hua Cheng moved swiftly but steadily out of the room, not taking a transportation array as Waning Moon Officer had before. Xie Lian couldn’t help but wonder if perhaps Hua Cheng, in yet another unbelievable display of consideration and kindness, wanted to avoid disturbing him. After a few minutes of silence passing through hallways and gardens, they reached the gate. Hua Cheng placed him down and opened it without ado.

“Alright, you’re free to go now,” he said simply. His face seemed sculpted out of stone, and betrayed no emotion.

The right thing to do was obvious — leave the innocent man alone, spend a month or so on the streets so it seemed like he tried, and go find some temple to pray to Jun Wu at so he could go back to normal. There really was no question about what Xie Lian should do. But two things rooted him in place next to Crimson Rain Sought Flower.

One, he really didn’t want to pray to Jun Wu. 

Two, he really didn’t want to leave just yet.

The first reason was understandable. Xie Lian had never been one to pray much anyways. Not to the point of absolutely refusing to do, but enough to make him procrastinate as much as he could. 

The second reason, however, was much more confounding. So used to packing up his things at the first sign of misfortune, Xie Lian rarely found a place he didn’t wish to leave. So, why would he linger now? 

He could tell himself that it would be useful to discern the cause for Hua Cheng’s grudge against gods. He could argue that even if the information was taken unknowingly, it could stop potentially deadly conflict and would be a net positive in the grand scheme of things.

However, he couldn’t deny the simple reality that he found Hua Cheng to be extremely interesting, and he hoped it wasn’t influencing his decision-making too much as he looked up at him and chirped once more, standing firmly in place.

That earned him a baffled expression from the ghost king, finally breaking his emotionless mask. His eyebrows arched impossibly high, and his lips parted. “Huh? The door’s open, you can go. I won’t stop you.”

Xie Lian just looked at him and chirped again. 

Hua Cheng continued to look down at him in confusion. “Are you hungry or something? You’re a wild creature, you shouldn’t expect food from humans. Or ghosts, in this case.”

Another willful chirp.

Confusion melted into concern. “Ah, are you injured? Animals do seek out help sometimes in dire situations,” he muttered to himself. “… Let me take you back in to check you out.”

Success, sort of! Xie Lian trotted right into his open hands once Hua Cheng settled into a crouch again. Something akin to a laugh escaped the ghost king. 

“Eager, huh? Don’t worry, we’ll find out what’s wrong. You’re odd for trusting me like this, though. But I suppose I’m odd for talking to a ferret.”

Xie Lian’s response chirp sounded indignant this time, and Hua Cheng chuckled for real. 

“Sorry, I meant a stoat .” He laughed at his own joke, and Xie Lian couldn’t help but find it boyishly charming.

Chapter Text

“There’s nothing wrong with him,” the Waning Moon Officer said simply. 

Xie Lian looked up from the table he was perched on to see Hua Cheng skeptically raise an eyebrow as he paced a little. “Really? Are you sure? He didn’t want to leave when I opened the gate. He must be sick or something.”

The Waning Moon Officer just shook his head. “I’m no animal medic, but he seems perfectly fine. Perhaps,” he hesitated, before continuing, “the little guy just wants to stay here?”

Hua Cheng seemed surprised, and halted his pacing. “Why would he want that?”

Shrugging, the Waning Moon Officer set down his examination tools. “Apologies, Chengzhu, I’m not sure. Maybe a better question is, do you want to keep him?”

The moment of truth! Xie Lian peered at Hua Cheng anxiously. As if sensing it, Hua Cheng looked down at him with an unreadable expression. 

A long silence followed as they stared at each other, and as more seconds passed Xie Lian thought the answer was certainly no. However, the refusal came much more forlornly than he expected. 

“I can’t,” Crimson Rain said in a tight voice.

“Why not?”

Hua Cheng shot the Waning Moon Officer a glare like he resented being asked to explain himself. “It would be a distraction, obviously. Time spent caring for this creature is time not spent on His Highness.”

Who’s His Highness? Xie Lian wondered. If anyone in Ghost City deserved that title, wasn’t it Crimson Rain? 

The Waning Moon Officer was quiet, and made no sign of giving a response any time soon. With an exasperated sigh, Hua Cheng waved his hand like he was swatting at some pesky fly. “I know you’re debating whether to say something. Just spit it out already.”

“Well, Chengzhu, I wonder if you could think of it this way — wouldn’t His Highness like a pet? Your descriptions of him have always made him seem quite caring and soft-hearted.”

This sentiment must have had an impact on Hua Cheng, for his expression instantly lifted and he brought a hand to his chin. “That’s true. He is exceptionally caring and soft-hearted. More than anyone else who’s ever walked the earth.” His tone took on a dreamy quality at the end that made Xie Lian quite curious.

Encouraged, Yin Yu supplemented his argument. “Right, so he’d probably like playing with such a cute animal. And if you happen to like the pet too, isn’t that just an added benefit?”

Hua Cheng paused his chin-stroking and frowned a little at that. “It doesn’t matter at all what I like. This is completely for His Highness.”

“Of course it is. But, I think the little guy likes you. He’s been staring at you this whole time. It would probably help if he got used to being around people before meeting His Highness. Perhaps you could take care of him until then. Not for you, but for His Highness.”

Xie Lian sensed some good-intentioned trickery from the Waning Moon Officer and found it incredibly amusing that it worked on Hua Cheng, who was starting to look fairly convinced. He glanced down at Xie Lian, and a small twinkle sparked in his eye. 

“Hmm, that’s… not a horrible suggestion. But don’t go thinking that I’m some animal lover, or something.”

“I wouldn’t dare, Chengzhu.”

Satisfied, Hua Cheng folded his arms across his chest. “Ok, it’s settled. I’ll keep him, just until I find His Highness. And there’s no way the creature will become attached to me, he’ll certainly find His Highness superior in every sense. He seems like a very smart stoat.”

Aside from the fact that he now had a home and was thankfully considered intelligent, Xie Lian had unintentionally uncovered what must be personal information about Crimson Rain Sought Flower. It seemed that His Highness was someone that Crimson Rain intensely valued and was looking for. The way Hua Cheng had softened at the mention of him suggested that His Highness could be a lost lover, which begged even more questions. Was he a runaway husband? Was he some mortal prince who had caught the attention of a ghost king? What did it even take to captivate such a man? It was all a lot to think about, and Xie Lian was sure that was why he felt a bit off. 

Maybe His Highness wasn’t a lover at all, and was just someone Hua Cheng deeply cared about in a platonic or familial way. That seemed like a much better thought to Xie Lian, even if he couldn’t put his finger — or paw — on why. 

The Waning Moon Officer seemed pleased. “Excellent idea, Chengzhu. What will you call him?”

Pursing his lips and squinting his eye ever so slightly, Hua Cheng seemed deep in thought. Then, something flashed across his face, and he smirked. Such a mischievous expression suited the ghost king very well in Xie Lian’s opinion, even if it did make nervousness flutter in his stomach. “It’s winter in the mortal realm, correct?”

“Yes, Chengzhu.”

The smirk grew along with Xie Lian’s anticipation. “Alright then, I’ll call him Xueqiu,” he said with an air of finality.

Xie Lian blinked. Snow Autumn? Snow Hill?

… Ah, he means Snowball!

If he was in his human form, he would have laughed heartily at such a cute name coming from a deadly supreme ghost king. But all he could manage was a happy chirp and a little bounce.

For the first time, Hua Cheng revealed an unreserved grin. “Oh, he likes it, haha!”

Hearing Crimson Rain laugh and seeing him happy made Xie Lian’s heart throb in a weird way. Maybe stoats were prone to heart murmurs. He bounced again, just to get his heart pumping normally, of course.

The Waning Moon Officer didn’t seem to share this sentiment, and gave a surprised huff before staggering back a little. Hua Cheng turned to look at him, his expression returning to its typical frown. “What, what is it?”

Waning Moon Officer straightened up from his stumble. “Oh, nothing, nothing,” he quickly reassured, waving his hands in front of him frantically. 

Hua Cheng’s tone became unnervingly polite, although his glare remained cold. “What ever could cause you to flounder like that? Do tell. I wouldn’t want such a thing to happen during one of your duties.”

“Well, Chengzhu, it’s just that I wasn’t expecting to hear you genuinely laugh like that, that’s all.”

“I didn’t laugh.” Hua Cheng scowled, looking annoyed.

“...”

“Why aren’t you saying anything? I didn’t laugh. I only laugh when I see my enemies suffer. You’ve gone mad, Yin Yu,” Hua Cheng grunted, crossing his arms. If a stoat could smile, Xie Lian was sure he’d be grinning at such an adorably amusing pout.

The Waning Moon Officer, or Yin Yu, bowed in a way that suggested he was more scared than amused. “Yes, you must be right, Chengzhu. I’ll go on my lunch break now, perhaps the fresh air will clear my head.” And with that, Yin Yu scurried out of the room.

After one more moment of glowering in Yin Yu’s direction, Hua Cheng looked back at where Xie Lian sat on the table, and immediately softened. “You know I didn’t laugh, right?”

Xie Lian chirped. Whether it was a ‘yes’ or ‘no’ was debatable.

Taking it the way he wanted to, Hua Cheng huffed with a smile in a way that was definitely not a laugh. “I’m glad you get it. You’re much smarter than him, Xueqiu.”

He turned his focus to the table, surveying it thoughtfully. “We’ll need to find you somewhere better to rest. I’d send Yin Yu to do it, but he’s on his lunch break, and he’s useless anyways. Come with me.”

Leaning over the table, Crimson Rain offered his hands which Xie Lian gladly accepted. This time, however, instead of holding him, Hua Cheng gently arranged him to fit in his arms, almost as if he was cradling him. Straightening his back, Hua Cheng took off at a purposeful pace and began to travel towards some unknown destination.

“I can’t decide if it would be better for you to sleep in his room or mine. You are his pet, but… he’s not here, yet. So perhaps you should stay with me, so you won’t be lonely.”

Xie Lian wondered if Crimson Rain Sought Flower was lonely. He felt another strange pang in his heart, although this one hurt more. Maybe the heart murmurs were worsening.

Hua Cheng came to a stop in front of a mahogany door intricately carved with butterflies around the frame and lacquered with cinnabar. He simply blinked as a command for the door to open, allowing Xie Lian to remain comfortably positioned in his arms, something he very much appreciated. Inside was a beautifully bold bedroom, swathed in red silks and gleaming with freshly-polished silver. All of the furniture was made out of mahogany with a similar butterfly motif. 

Xie Lian found himself being lowered on a vanity table, and the ghost king stood before him with a finger in the air, as if telling him to listen closely. “Wait here a moment. I’ll grab you a cushion from the bed. There’s too many, anyways, I’m being suffocated in my sleep,” he grumbled.

With that, Hua Cheng turned his back and walked towards the bed, leaving Xie Lian momentarily out of his sight. Perfect.

On his way in, Xie Lian had noticed the mirror by the vanity, and this gave him the perfect opportunity to sneak a look at himself without seeming too self-aware for a stoat. As Hua Cheng rummaged around his bed and inspected the fluffiness and firmness of different pillows, Xie Lian had ample time to scamper in front of the mirror and give himself a once-over.

He had seen his white coat just by looking down at his arms, but it was nice to see it all at once. I really do look like some elongated snowball , he thought with an internal chuckle. His eyes were beady black, like little drops of ink on fresh snow, and pinkish brown nose rested like a button at the end of his snout. But all of that was unimportant, of course. What he really needed to check was what his cursed shackles looked like. Tilting his head either way, he looked for any sign of a black tattoo peaking out of the fur on his neck, but saw nothing. His ankle appeared the same. 

A dark spot, however, caught his attention after a moment of inspection. Bending around, he tried to identify the source. And there it was. On the tip of his tail was a dark spot, like a dipped brush, characteristic of stoats. But Xie Lian knew better. He knew from the unusual weight there that his cursed shackle must have been relocated to avoid suspicion. Although there was no design, nothing to give it away as out of the ordinary to anyone else, that dark spot was a stark reminder that even as a stoat, he still carried the sins he committed as a god. 

“This should probably do,” Hua Cheng said a bit tiredly, as if he wasn’t fully satisfied with the outcome of his cushion quest. Xie Lian quickly put distance between himself and the mirror, and returned to the edge of the vanity.

Just the appearance of the pillow indicated that it was of a much higher quality than he was used to. As Hua Cheng set it down next to him on the table, he gave it a tentative sniff and found the fabric to be incredibly soft against his nose. Such sumptuous material was sure to be ruined by a grimy animal. Xie Lian looked at Hua Cheng questioningly, tilted his head just a little to get his point across, and once more Hua Cheng’s usual stoic expression wavered as his eyes crinkled.

“Yes, it’s for you. Go on, take a nap or something. This is a safe place to rest.”

A safe place to rest.

Slowly, Xie Lian crept onto the pillow, occasionally glancing up at the ghost king to see if he’d change his mind. He didn’t, and just continued to watch him with a satisfied smile. Finally, fully on the cushion, Xie Lian curled up and spared one final look at the ghost king. Seeing no hesitation and sensing no trace of ill-will, he finally closed his eyes and fell into a deeper slumber than he had experienced in centuries.

Two weeks passed by without much notable activity from Crimson Rain Sought Flower. Xie Lian thought a ghost king would have much more time for leisure than a god, but in truth it seemed Crimson Rain didn’t do anything but work. He made even the hardest-working civil god seem like a hedonist. 

For the first part of the day, Hua Cheng would go to his study, leaving the door open for Xie Lian to either follow or go off on his own. Xie Lian always took the second option, not wanting to get in the way of whatever important work a ghost king had to do. During those hours, he would wander the labyrinthine halls of Paradise Manor. It seemed that the servants had been told to watch out for him, as ghosts carefully watched their step while passing.

For the next part of the day, Hua Cheng would go track him down in whatever corner he found himself lost in. “Really Xueqiu,” he’d chide with a dramatic sigh, “how do you get yourself into such situations?”, to which Xie Lian could only sheepishly chirp. Then, Hua Cheng would scoop him up and carry him out to a particularly sunny spot of the garden, tsk-tsk at him, and head off to the small building surrounded by white flowers in the middle of the garden. Xie Lian didn’t know what the place was for, or what Hua Cheng did there, and he was determined to respect that privacy.

The ghost king always emerged from the building looking more peaceful. Worry lines that appeared after his time in the study seemed eased, and the hunch of his shoulders straightened out a bit. One time, Xie Lian was following a butterfly that wandered too close to the building, and he thought he heard the sound of metal clipping away at stone. Perhaps some sort of hobby.

After that, Hua Cheng returned to his chambers, and Xie Lian trotted after him for his snack and nighttime rest. Hua Cheng, however, never rested. Although Xie Lian was aware that ghosts didn’t need to sleep or eat, he had learned most ghosts did. Eating outside of just sustaining one’s health was still a pleasurable experience, and sleeping was a relaxing way to pass the time, which ghosts had plenty of. But Crimson Rain rarely ate and even more rarely slept. Instead, he would sit criss-cross in bed with a pile of scrolls and maps, scowling at some and looking excited by others. Occasionally, when it seemed like he had read something noteworthy, he would pull a special little book out of his pocket and would scribble in it furiously. 

Xie Lian didn’t think himself a nosy person, but sometimes, while watching a plethora of various expressions cross Hua Cheng’s face while Xie Lian laid half-asleep on his cushion across the room, he desperately yearned to know what the ghost king was so intent on researching. However, before any feasible conjectures took place in his mind, he always drifted off knowing that a warm bowl of food would await him in the morning.

It was easy for those two weeks to pass like this, and Xie Lian believed two more weeks would follow suit, but soon a disruption was introduced to their routine. A disruption who looked like a moody, vengeful, entirely too skinny man dressed in all black.

It started while Xie Lian was eating his breakfast, with Hua Cheng quietly finishing up a scroll on his bed. Suddenly, a look of annoyance crossed Hua Cheng’s face, and two fingers flew up to his temple. 

“This better be important, Black Water. I’m busy,” he growled. 

A communication array! Xie Lian hadn’t even known ghosts could use those. However, he recognized the name Black Water as one of the other ghost kings Ling Wen mentioned in her quick debrief on the last eight hundred years as Jun Wu prepared the transformation spell. Black Water Sinking Ships was the only other active ghost king, as apparently Night-Touring Green Lantern wasn’t much of a threat. And the other, inactive ghost king, well… Xie Lian had already nearly fainted when hearing his name again after so long, and resolved never to let it pass his mind in the future. Bai Wuxiang was long gone, after all.

So, not only could ghost kings communicate via array, but they did, in fact, communicate. Maybe there was some sort of alliance between Black Water and Crimson Rain. Such information was surely what the heavens wanted him to figure out, so Xie Lian tried his best to cover his ears under his cushion and pay the conversation no mind. He couldn’t possibly be expected to report something he hadn’t actually heard, right? 

Unfortunately, the volume of Hua Cheng’s voice suddenly rose, and his words were impossible to ignore. “What?! A suspected ascension? Who?”

A pause, before Hua Cheng snarled. “What do you mean, you waited to tell me because you weren’t sure who it was? This happened two weeks ago? Give me one good reason I shouldn’t disperse you right now for withholding information and violating your end of the deal.”

Another pause, before Hua Cheng gave a sardonic laugh. “Oh, you thought you could find out who ascended if you waited a little bit? Give me a break. Get your ass over here right now if you have any sense of self-preservation.”

One final pause, which must have been filled with Black Water saying something completely outrageous on the other side of the array, for Hua Cheng’s eye grew comically wide in disbelief as he yelled, “No, I’m not serving you a single fucking grain of rice, you glutton!”

As Hua Cheng ripped his fingers away from his temple, he formed a fist and smashed it down into the bed. His eye was blazing, and he seethed curses out of gritted teeth. “That fucker! Sneaky little rat bitch, I bet he thought he could drag out this search in order to get more money and food out of me…”

So this is what a ghost king’s wrath looked like. Xie Lian could understand why the heavens wouldn’t want to be on the receiving side of it. Questions on who Hua Cheng could be searching for swirled around in his head. Was it related to ‘His Highness’? Many nobility did ascend, as those in power often had the resources and opportunities to perform the cultivation and heroic deeds necessary. Nearly everyone in the heavens was some sort of ‘highness’. His theory that Hua Cheng was looking for some beloved mortal prince, starry-eyed and destined for greatness, was becoming increasingly likely. 

He wondered what the prince was like, to have earned such devotion from a man like Hua Cheng. Surely the prince was beautiful, inside and out, and carried himself with the grace and confidence expected of a ghost king’s consort. His stomach twisted, and another heart murmur occurred.  

 He was just about to quietly make his way off the vanity and out the door to give Crimson Rain some much deserved privacy, but was stopped by the sound of a tortured exhale. Looking back, he saw the ghost king flopped on his bed with a hand pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. 

“God, what a disaster. What if it was him? I’ve lost valuable time then. But if it’s not him, that’s even worse. Who knows where he is, what he’s doing…”

Feeling woefully helpless, Xie Lian darted out the door to allow the poor man a moment of solitude.

Hua Cheng found Xie Lian in a new random hallway this time. “There you are, Xueqiu,” he breathed, looking rather tired. After scooping him up, Hua Cheng paused, and ran a tentative finger along Xie Lian’s side. It was a new gesture, something the ghost king hadn’t done before, and he looked up in shock to see a sad face staring down at him.

“I’m sorry for my outburst this morning. It wasn't directed at you, just at that idiot Black Water, but it still scared you. I should have realized animals could sense such distress,” he said reproachfully in a quiet voice. 

The gentle strokes to his fur continued, now travelling to his back. “I’ll work on controlling my emotions going forward instead of making it your problem. Please, forgive me.”

The frown on the ghost king’s face was so pitiful that Xie Lian couldn’t help but press his paws against Hua Cheng’s forearms in an effort to console him. This likely came across as a little too understanding for a stoat, but that wasn’t a concern in Xie Lian’s mind. He really hadn’t been scared at all by Hua Cheng — none of the anger had been directed at Xie Lian after all — and tried his best to convey it by looking deeply into his eyes as he leaned on his arm. Surely a scared animal wouldn’t do that, right?

A dark, gloomy eye stared back at him. After a moment, a layer of storm clouds cleared in his gaze, and his face lost some of its tension.

“Ah, Xueqiu, you really are something else,” he chuckled, easing into a smile that made Xie Lian’s heart sing.

A rough, male voice suddenly came from behind them. “Are you talking to someone, Crimson Rain? Or did you finally lose it?” the voice asked coolly.

Hua Cheng whipped around, Xie Lian held tightly against his chest. Looking up, it appeared that a fire had begun to blaze once more in Hua Cheng’s eye, but after a glance down at Xie Lian, it quickly doused itself into something calmer. “Black Water, you must be tired of existing if you’re sneaking up on me like this after irritating me so much over the array. Perhaps you do want me to disperse you?” Hua Cheng asked coolly.

Black Water, a rather dreary looking man who seemed frozen in an expression of woeful aggravation, scoffed. “I hardly ‘snuck up’ on you, my footsteps were obvious. Perhaps you’re getting distracted with that new… possession of yours.”

Xie Lian could tell that Hua Cheng was putting in a great effort to stay calm for his sake. It was quite endearing. “I’m not distracted, though I thank you for your halfwitted concern. And he isn’t my possession, he’s a gift.”

Snorting, Black Water crossed his arms. “For me? You shouldn’t have.”

“Good, because I didn’t. Now, you’re going to tell me every little detail you so carelessly omitted for the past two weeks, or I’m going to feed your bonefish to Xueqiu here,” Hua Cheng smirked as he gave Xie Lian another gentle pet between his shoulder blades. A happy chirp came involuntarily, despite the fact that Xie Lian wasn’t sure what a bonefish was.

Black Water just rolled his eyes. “I told you, I was waiting to see if any more information would make itself known. At first, it seemed exactly like a very powerful ascension. The ground shook and split, palaces were toppled, gods were screaming their heads off about damages, etc. There hasn’t been an ascension like that in ages, not since I’ve been up there, but records describe some precisely like that. So, I waited around a bit in the courtyard, hoping to overhear any whisper about who the new god might be, but there was nothing. I even went so far as to invite Wind Master over for tea so I could ask them,” Black Water grunted, looking vaguely traumatized as he continued. “They had nothing, but blabbed about their favorite weather for four hours. That was the eleventh time we’ve had that conversation. It’s windy weather .”

Hua Cheng’s shoulders were starting to ease a little, and it seemed like his anger was beginning to fade into annoyance. Xie Lian’s relief at seeing him calm down outweighed the concern he had about the fact that Black Water had somehow managed to infiltrate the heavens as a spy.

In a much more condescending voice, Hua Cheng spoke. “So you wandered around the heavens for two weeks and learned absolutely nothing?”

“Not nothing. That’s why I reached out today. You see, not even an hour ago the Palace of Ling Wen released a record that the incident two weeks ago was a faulty protection spell casted at the Palace of Divine Might by some Middle Court official. Which made sense, as Jun Wu’s place was entirely unaffected, but… don’t you think it’s a little too convenient? They wait all this time for the buzz to die down, just to give some mundane statement of what happened?”

A tightness was settling into Hua Cheng’s brow. “Go on.”

“I think it’s far more likely someone did ascend, someone Jun Wu doesn’t like, and they’re trying to cover up the whole thing. Which begs two questions — who ascended, and where are they now?”

Xie Lian wasn’t sure he liked where this conversation was going.

Chapter Text

The look on Hua Cheng’s face could be interpreted in many different ways. Concern, excitement, anger, joy, frustration, relief — all of these seemed like plausible explanations for whatever the ghost king was currently experiencing. 

“... Do you think it’s him?”

Black Water shrugged. “I can’t say for certain. His name hasn’t come up at all. But personally… I think it’s likely. Don’t go dispersing me if you get your hopes up and I’m wrong though.”

No response came, and Xie Lian glanced up fully expecting to see the ghost king scowling. Instead, he looked… awestruck?

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, Crimson Rain,” reiterated Black Water with a carefully neutral expression. “I really could be wrong. However,” he paused, his mouth as close to a smirk as that stony face could manage, “I rarely am. So, have you changed your mind about treating me to a meal? I think I deserve it, after going through all that trouble with Wind Master and investigating for you.”

The awe hadn’t completely left Hua Cheng’s expression as he shook his head violently and began to impatiently tap his foot. “There’s no time for eating right now, idiot. I need to go find him. I don’t like the fact that his ascension is being hidden. Who knows what that bastard Jun Wu has done to him… He could be locked up somewhere, he could need me.”

Black Water simply raised an eyebrow and scoffed. “You think he needs you? What exactly would you do to help him?”

There was a moment of silence before Hua Cheng broke it by speaking in a low, solemn voice. “I’ll challenge Jun Wu for his whereabouts. There’s no more time to waste fruitlessly searching, not when His Highness could be in danger. If you come with me to the heavens, consider your debt forgiven.”

So all that tireless research Hua Cheng performed really had been for that special ‘highness’, who Hua Cheng mistakenly thought had ascended. Again, the image of a shimmering young mortal, bursting at the seams with potential, filled Xie Lian’s head. Once, ages ago, Xie Lian had been someone like that. Maybe if he could have stayed young and naive, he himself could have been a candidate for Hua Cheng’s heart — But what did that matter?! What a peculiar thought at a time like this , Xie Lian mentally scolded himself.

The offer to be debt-free must have been very appealing to Black Water, for he looked excited for a moment before faltering, followed shortly by a gloomy expression. “I can’t go with you up there, regardless of whether I’m in disguise. It’ll ruin my plans if I’m discovered. Besides, what do you plan to do, beat Jun Wu? What if it wasn’t even His Highness who ascended?”

“There’s a chance it was, though. I can’t stand idly by if he’s possibly in trouble,” Hua Cheng growled, sounding increasingly stressed. “I have to go, I have to do something, I can’t be worthless again —”

Heart aching, Xie Lian let out a low whine. Inadvertently, his ascension and mission had caused Crimson Rain such distress. To see the ghost king filled with false hope that his special someone had ascended, when in fact only a twice-banished god of trash and misfortune had scrambled back to the heavens for a third time, was so terribly tragic. How devastated would Hua Cheng be if he went all the war up to the heavens, only to find no one there since the only person who had ascended was someone who should have simply stayed forgotten? How horrible would it be if Hua Cheng were to fight a pointless battle against Jun Wu, just because Xie Lian had made a complete mess of his own ascension?

… What if Hua Cheng lost the battle? Xie Lian had no idea how powerful the ghost king was compared to the heavenly emperor. What would Xie Lian do with yet another death on his blood-stained hands? To cause the downfall of yet another caring, brave, and strong ghost would be too much to bear…

A hand clamped down on Hua Cheng’s shoulder, startling both him and Xie Lian who remained cradled in Hua Cheng’s arms. Black Water tightened his grasp and gave his fellow ghost king a rough shake. “Get a grip. You’re no good to him if you rush up there and get yourself dispersed. You may be able to defeat regular old gods, but Jun Wu’s a different story. Besides, it might not even be him. Or if it is, he might not even be in danger. Maybe he’s taking a break from heavenly duties. Or maybe it really was just some spell that went wrong which caused the quake. We don’t have enough information right now. What if you go up for nothing, get yourself dispersed, and can’t help him later when he actually needs it?”

Hua Cheng looked extremely annoyed. “You have such little faith in me. I could beat Jun Wu.”

Black Water just groaned as he dragged a hand down his face. “You don’t know that, you arrogant bastard. Besides, you’re missing the whole point — this incident up in the heavens truly might not be related to him at all. Maybe it really was a spell that went wrong, or someone different ascended. You just don’t know . So stop being irrational and listen to my plan.”

Any plan that didn’t involve Crimson Rain storming the heavens was a plan Xie Lian was willing to listen to. However, the trepidation in Xie Lian’s heart was not fully eased, as Hua Cheng continued to glower at Black Water. Hoping to persuade Hua Cheng to consider a less drastic option, Xie Lian turned his head to look at him, chittering softly. 

The gentle noise seemed to snap Hua Cheng out of his brooding, and the arms that held him finally relaxed a little. “Oh? And what’s this brilliant plan of yours?” Hua Cheng scowled with slightly less malice than before, absentmindedly giving Xie Lian a little pet on the shoulder. 

“I already have a performance review with Jun Wu set for three days from now. I’ll be talking to him during that time, but while he’s distracted I can send a clone out around the Palace of Divine Might to look for anything suspicious. If the clone is disguised as one of Jun Wu’s attendants, it shouldn’t attract much unwanted attention. Worst case scenario, you come up, claim ownership of the clone, and cause whatever mayhem you want. But leave me completely out of it.”

There was a tense silence as Hua Cheng considered this, the distracted strokes he gave Xie Lian becoming slower. “... Fine. We’ll try it your way. But if in three days, you find even the slightest sign that he’s up there, I’m going there myself. If I get dispersed in the process, so be it. I won’t rest until he’s free.”

These words did nothing to ease Xie Lian’s nerves, and he desperately hoped that Jun Wu and Ling Wen had done a thorough job of removing any signs of his ascension from the Palace of Divine Might. What if Black Water reported back something unintentionally misleading, which would prompt Hua Cheng to invade the Heavenly Capital and risk his life for nothing?

Maybe it would be best if Xie Lian abandoned the mission now. He could pray to Jun Wu, reveal himself to Hua Cheng, and tell him the truth behind the mystery in the heavens. He would surely be tortured and killed for his transgressions by Hua Cheng, and rightfully so. Perhaps a ghost king like Crimson Rain could even find a way to make Xie Lian stay dead, for good. His conscience would be clear. No longer a spy and no longer the cause of death, Xie Lian could finally be at peace.

There was a time when Xie Lian would have welcomed eternal death like that. He had craved it so desperately when his parents passed away, when he was nailed alive in a coffin for a century, when he was haunted by the memories of all those he had failed. How nice would it be, to finally stop thinking.

… But Xie Lian no longer welcomed the idea. In the past, the kindness of one person had been enough to turn him away from committing the most wicked of deeds. And now, the kindness of the ghost king made him want to stay. It was terribly selfish, really. He could tell himself that revealing his identity as a spy to Hua Cheng would only cause more discord between gods and ghosts, and that coming clean would do more harm than good, but in his heart Xie Lian knew he simply didn’t want to give up the closest thing to care he had experienced since his mother died.

He hated himself for his selfishness, and knew he couldn’t allow himself the sin of indulging in it.

And so, he decided. If in three days, Black Water came back with any suspicions that might cause Crimson Rain to challenge Jun Wu, Xie Lian would immediately reveal himself along with the truth and accept any punishment before Hua Cheng could risk getting himself killed. But, if Black Water came back empty-handed and Crimson Rain continued his search in the mortal realm, Xie Lian would do everything in his power to reunite him with his special someone. It was what Hua Cheng deserved.

Black Water didn’t seem too pleased with Crimson Rain’s vow to storm the heavens at any sign of trouble, but gruffly nodded in acquiescence regardless. “Ok, I guess that’s as good a compromise as I can get from you. You know, if you end up getting yourself dispersed up there, that would be a real problem for me if the heavenly realm ever starts a way with the ghostly realm. But hey, at least my debt would be forgiven by default. So, what do you say to some noodles now?”

A short huff came from Hua Cheng, and he hummed in a way that Xie Lian could feel the vibrations of his chest. “You know what? Fine. You’ll get your noodles, you greedy pig. But in return, you better give a completely detailed report of whatever you see during your meeting with Jun Wu.”

After a very prolonged feast that resulted in Hua Cheng quite literally kicking Black Water out of Ghost City, Hua Cheng resumed his usual research with renewed fervor. However, this time, he procured a small cushion for Xie Lian and set him on the desk. It was the first time that Xie Lian had spent more than a minute in the ghost king’s study, as he always opted to wander the halls of Paradise Manor instead to give Crimson Rain some space. He had only ever watched Hua Cheng researching while reclined in bed in the evening as Xie Lian nestled into his cushion. It was a great deal different from how Hua Cheng was now, as he hunched over his desk littered with seemingly countless maps and furiously scribbled notes in their margins, crossing out cities and drawing new paths. His brow furrowed, his jaw clenched, Crimson Rain seemed somehow even more determined to find the one he was searching for than he had in the two weeks Xie Lian had known him. 

This was exactly the sort of personal information that Xie Lian swore he would not snoop on, especially now that he knew for certain it was that special ‘highness’ that Hua Cheng seemed so fond of. But, if Xie Lian ever wanted to help Hua Cheng find his missing prince, he had to know who exactly they were searching for. So, Xie Lian forced himself to stay on the desk and not run away.

However, he was quickly met with a disheartening realization — the ghost king’s notes were utterly illegible! It was as if an angry chicken had seized a pen in its feet while fluttering about. There was no way to discern any sort of name or identifying description for the mysterious ‘highness’ from his writings. Xie Lian felt thoroughly stumped, and curled up to watch for any sort of hint.

Hours passed, and finally Hua Cheng set aside his maps, much to Xie Lian’s relief. The ghost king really did work too hard, and was long overdue for a lengthy break! Yet, instead of getting up to stretch or rest, Hua Cheng simply drew a long scroll out from his desk and began to read. Concern struck Xie Lian deep in his chest. Didn’t Crimson Rain ever take a moment for himself?

Unaware of his stoat’s worrying, Hua Cheng continued pouring over the text as if it contained the secret to life itself. One thing, however, captured Xie Lian’s attention. As the ghost king devoured the page with his eye, his hand drifted to a piece of scrap paper and began to move. The motion was much smoother than it had been when Hua Cheng attempted to write, yet his eye never left the words he was reading to look at what his hand was doing. His hand moved as if by instinct, gliding across the paper in long, graceful strokes with careful dots and dashes. 

Xie Lian was unable to see what Hua Cheng’s errant hand was doing from his cushion, so he picked himself up, stretched his back with a yawn, and trotted over to see what was happening on the paper. As he stood beside Hua Cheng’s hand, he was confronted with a familiar sight.

Staring back at him on the paper was his own face!

It was such an uncanny likeness that Xie Lian frantically looked down at his paws to reassure himself that he hadn’t accidentally turned back into a human. How on earth did Crimson Rain, who Xie Lian had never met before, know what he really looked like?!

Then, a sobering realization struck him. Hadn’t it been at least five centuries since Xie Lian had last looked in a proper mirror? For ages, he had gotten by with just checking his reflection in ponds and rivers for any signs of dirt on his face, and that almost never guaranteed that he looked clean and presentable. So really, how could Xie Lian even claim to remember what he truly looked like?

He took another look at the drawing, and concluded it was truly too beautiful, too painstakingly crafted to be of him. The man in the picture exuded gentleness, smiling ever so slightly with such a kind gaze that seemed to pierce the paper, making the observer feel as if they were the recipient of the man’s fondness. Although drawn solely with black ink, the warm brilliance of his face was impossible to miss. And though the man may share the same features as Xie Lian by pure coincidence, in his heart Xie Lian knew that there never was and never would be a picture of him made with such care. In short, the man in the picture was not him, and Xie Lian was an arrogant fool for deluding himself for a moment that it could be.

An uncomfortable, churning sensation of coldness filled his chest.

Hua Cheng must have noticed Xie Lian staring at the picture, and moved his hand so he could see what had captured the stoat’s attention. “Ah,” he chuckled as he looked down, “I drew him without even thinking again.”

Xie Lian continued to stare at the paper, and Hua Cheng shot him a glance.

“Why, even the wildlife can recognize his beauty. His Highness truly is the loveliest being to grace our world, wouldn’t you agree, Xueqiu?” the ghost king asked dreamily, his mouth curved into an adoring smile and his eye twinkling.

He’s not all that! Xie Lian huffed internally. Really, he looks very mediocre. Your painting skills are what’s lovely here . But the ghost king looked so eager for Xueqiu’s response, looked so certain that his special someone was undeniably loveable, that Xie Lian was forced to give a reluctant chirp in agreement.

Crimson Rain laughed triumphantly. “I knew you’d agree. Just wait until you meet him. It’s his soul that’s the most exceptional — beautiful inside and out. You will never find a more kind or just man than him. You’ll love him.”

Xie Lian tried to scoff, but it came out more like a sigh. I doubt I will , he thought bitterly to himself. After all, I believe I’ve already met the most exceptional soul.

Indeed, Xie Lian had long decided that Crimson Rain was the most beautiful, kind, and just man that he knew. So even if his heart mysteriously burned at the thought of this ‘highness’ being with Crimson Rain, he knew that he would accept whatever made the ghost king happy. And it seemed like this person truly did.

Yet, his chest continued to feel like it was contracting.

Determined to rid his head of any silly thoughts, Xie Lian took a step backwards from the paper. This turned out to be a mistake, as he immediately felt the cool sensation of wet ink on his paws as he accidentally stepped back into the inkstone. His first instinct was to run off, but that would surely cause little inky footprints to track all over Crimson Rain’s hard work. So instead, he forced himself to stay in place and let out a helpless whine that instantly drew the ghost king’s attention.

When the ghost king saw the predicament Xie Lian was in, he laughed heartily. “Ah, Xueqiu, you little clutz! Or do you want to draw too?” he smiled amusedly, his eye squinted into a playful crescent. 

It seemed Xie Lian’s clumsiness followed him regardless of his physical form, and he sighed wearily. But it was hard to be too upset when Hua Cheng looked at him so fondly and with such mirth. 

Hua Cheng gently picked him up out of the inkstone and held him in the air to inspect his ink-stained paws. “Looks like you’ll need a bath,” he concluded. “I would get Yin Yu to do it, but he’s busy and probably couldn’t get to it until later tonight. Perhaps a quick break from research would help me focus more. Let’s get you to the washroom and I’ll bathe you myself, hmm?”

The thought of Hua Cheng running his hands over him to wash him, even as a ferret, was too embarrassing to bear. He frantically started to squirm in the ghost king’s grasp, who anxiously set him down on the ground. “What, what is it?”

But his question came too late, for Xie Lian had already scurried out the door, leaving a trail of black pawprints in his wake. 

“Hey, Xueqiu, come back here!”

Chapter Text

In the end, Xie Lian managed to evade the ghost king’s playful chase after him. When they both stopped running through the winding halls of Paradise Manor after reaching a dead end, Hua Cheng crouched down with a grin and stuck his hands out as a sign of peace. “Alright, Xueqiu, you win whatever little game you’ve come up with. You’ve made quite the mess for the staff to clean up. At this point, I don’t have time to give you a bath myself. I suppose Yin Yu will have to do it later, huh?”

Xie Lian exhaled in relief and began to bounce triumphantly, earning him a disbelieving laugh from the ghost king. “Why, were you avoiding your bath just now? Is that why you ran off like that?” 

Then, Hua Cheng’s amusement turned into pensiveness. “You really are very smart, Xueqiu. How on earth did you know what a bath meant?”

This was not good! Xie Lian, in his desperation to avoid embarrassment at the doting hands of the ghost king, had completely forgotten to act like an animal! Hua Cheng really had a way of making Xie Lian lower his guard… But what should he do now to salvage the situation??

Hua Cheng tapped his finger to his chin a few times and began to mutter to himself as he scooped up Xie Lian and walked briskly back to the study. “You know, I thought you were a lost pet at first and that ribbon was something from your previous owner. I opened the gate to give you a chance to go back to them or be free… but you stayed. I figured you must not have been a pet after all… but what if you really are? Why didn’t you go home?”

Crimson Rain sounded genuinely stumped for a moment, but as soon as the word ‘home’ left his lips, he gave a sharp inhale and frowned. “Ah, I see… The homes we start out with in life aren’t always good, huh? My first home shouldn’t even be called a home,” he scoffed. But then his voice became softer as he continued. “I found my true home, though. I’ve lost him since, worthless creature that I am, but I’ll find him again. I know I will. If it wasn’t him who ascended, if Black Water finds nothing, I’ll just keep on searching as I always do and always will. I know he isn’t gone from this world. He can’t be.”

That hushed reverence, that stubborn and unyielding belief, that mix of self-loathing and confident optimism — all of it made Xie Lian’s heart feel as if it had been wrung out like a sopping cloth. In his heart, there was immense sadness, loving pride, and shameful jealousy, all combined into one emotion too convoluted for Xie Lian to bear to dissect at the moment. He swallowed it all down like a sword, careful to avoid cutting himself in the process. Because if Xie Lian wasn’t careful, he could easily delude himself that these words from the ghost king were somehow about him. He could tell himself that he wasn’t insane or conceited to wonder if he could have been the man Hua Cheng drew. He could lose himself in the laughable daydream that someone out there had been searching for him all this time, someone who cherished him. Someone as incredible, kind, mischievous, sincere, and beautiful as Hua Cheng.

But to think such things was only a sign of Xie Lian’s arrogance and self-importance, the same that led to him thinking that he could be the one to save his people. Because in the end, Xie Lian wasn’t the sort of person who inspired such awe. Worship had quickly turned to abuse, and rightfully so. He was a failure of a god, one that had mercifully been left forgotten except for the occasional mention of his ties to scraps, pestilence, and misfortune.

When Xie Lian had first been confronted with this reality as a young god, such thoughts had deeply hurt him. He had wanted someone to hold him, to tell him that he wasn’t a failure, that he hadn’t killed the people he loved and was raised to protect, that he himself could be saved to. Of course, no one would lie to him like that. The one person who had shown him such care, such devotion, he had dispersed with his own sword and foolish hatred.

So now, as Xie Lian reflected on his past, he felt no self-pity. When he reminded himself of his failures, of his inherent capacity for ruining whatever he touched, he only felt the comfort of self-hatred wrap around him like the hug of a serpent. Ever since his mother passed, the snake’s embrace was all he had known.

Hearing Hua Cheng speak, albeit briefly and vaguely, of his own troubled childhood broke Xie Lian’s heart. Even with fate pitted against him from the beginning, Crimson Rain had risen from the ashes like a phoenix. And Xie Lian, who had been blessed at birth but squandered it all away, felt utter respect for the man before him.

Yet, the guilt that had been present since Xie Lian first agreed to become a spy was like a sore that had festered into a grave wound. Despite his supposed efforts to preserve the ghost king’s privacy, he had selfishly allowed himself to stay close to Hua Cheng. Covering his ears, leaving the room, looking away — all of that meant nothing. He had still learned far too much about Hua Cheng, information that would surely be of interest to the heavens. It seemed Hua Cheng’s main goal was to find this special ‘highness’, someone who was thought to be powerful enough to ascend but disliked by Jun Wu. In the past eight hundred years that Xie Lian wandered the mortal realm, there had surely been many princes with the potential to ascend. But who could be an enemy of Jun Wu?

Jun Wu himself likely knew the answer to who this mysterious person was. If the heavenly emperor were to learn about Crimson Rain’s motives, His Highness would almost certainly be used as leverage against the ghost king. An innocent person would be sucked into heavenly drama and treated as a pawn. How could Xie Lian let that happen to someone Hua Cheng cared so much about?

Although he took no pleasure in lying, it was something Xie Lian was not afraid to resort to if it meant he could save people. So, if ever he was questioned by Jun Wu, Xie Lian resolved to admit nothing and to claim that the mission was a bust. Indeed, it seemed that the end of this charade was drawing near. It was becoming more and more difficult to convince himself that he wasn’t doing more harm than good, and that he wasn’t getting overly attached to Hua Cheng. Perhaps Hua Cheng was even becoming somewhat attached to him, which could only lead to heartbreak down the line.

The ghost king spoke again, momentarily disrupting Xie Lian’s spiralling thoughts. “Don’t worry, Xueqiu. You don’t have to go back to the home you came from. You can stay here, and when you meet His Highness, I’m sure you’ll have a true home too.”

Paradise Manor already feels like a home, though. The weight of such a thought sunk in. He had only been here two weeks, yet in all his travels he had never found a place where he felt so at ease. I really am becoming too attached , he lamented. 

The day before his meeting with Jun Wu, Black Water came to visit again, although this time he arrived at the front entrance instead of spawning in the middle of Paradise Manor. Yin Yu had seemed quite nervous when he had to relay the message that “Lord Black Water is at the door and says he requires sustenance before tomorrow, Chengzhu” to Crimson Rain, but fortunately Hua Cheng was in such a restless state that he simply waved his hand, instructed Yin Yu to have the cooks prepare food and keep a tally of expenses, and walked briskly towards the door with Xie Lian cradled in his arm.

Indeed, Crimson Rain had been growing increasingly agitated since he had learned of the suspected ascension. Xie Lian had watched as the ghost king’s seemingly endless energy for research turned into endless energy for pacing, hovering over Yin Yu, and practicing sword techniques. Not that Xie Lian minded that last one — in fact, it was a great joy to watch Hua Cheng’s elegant swordsmanship. Whoever led him to use a saber was well-informed , Xie Lian remarked in his thoughts. 

Now, as Hua Cheng met Black Water at the door, it seemed his energy had found a new outlet.

“Black Water,” he said coolly, although his voice sounded ever-so-slightly strained to Xie Lian’s ears. “I hear you’re demanding food again.”

Still sporting that same dour expression as last time, Black Water nodded. “You heard correctly. It better be free food too, since I’m doing you a favor tomorrow.”

Hua Cheng raised an eyebrow. “A favor? I thought I was the one doing you a favor by not immediately storming the Heavenly Capital.”

“You know very well that was a terrible idea. If anything, I should be given an extra helping of beef for dissuading you.”

Xie Lian chirped in agreement — it really was a good thing Black Water had talked Hua Cheng down from taking any reckless actions. 

The noise caught Black Water’s attention. “See, even the animal agrees with me. You said it was a gift last time. I presume it’s for His Highness?”

Hua Cheng shrugged before turning on his heel and leading Black Water down the hall to the dining room. “What’s it to you?”

“Oh, nothing at all. It’s just that if it really wasn’t His Highness who ascended, it may be… a while before you find him. Stoats only live about five years, and he looks to be fully grown already. What if he dies before you get to give him to His Highness? Will you just keep raising stoats?”

Hua Cheng stiffened and picked up his pace. “What a pointless conversation to have now.”

“Ok, then I have perhaps a more relevant question for you. Suppose it was His Highness who ascended, and you somehow convince him to trust you enough to accept gifts from you. What if he doesn’t even like stoats?”

“Then I’ll keep him myself.”

“Well, what if His Highness moves into Paradise Manor, and is allergic to the thing? Or simply dislikes it and wants it out of his home?”

Hua Cheng suddenly stopped mid-step and whipped around to face his fellow ghost king. “What exactly are you getting at, Black Water? Do you have some sort of point, or are you just trying to antagonize me?”

“My point is that it’s out of character for you to get His Highness such a gift. It doesn’t seem well-thought-out in the slightest. You have no evidence that the creature will be well-received or even received at all. What possessed you to allow this animal in your house?”

Xie Lian could feel the arm that held him tense momentarily, before a low chuckle came from Crimson Rain. “Why, I’ve had far worse company in this residence. After all, aren’t you in here right now?”

Black Water’s perpetual grimace seemed to deepen even further, his eyes squinting into slits and his mouth pursing as if he bit into a particularly sour lemon. “Fine, ignore me if you want. Just don’t come crying to me if His Highness doesn’t like his gift, or if the thing dies.”

With entirely too much force, Hua Cheng yanked the door to the dining room open and shoved Black Water inside before shutting the door with a loud slam. He spent a minute glaring daggers at the closed door, as if he could somehow pierce the wood and the man inside, before giving a long, irritated sigh.

“What a pain in the ass,” Crimson Rain muttered as he turned to go back to his study. Now both arms held Xie Lian, but neither seemed to have relaxed at all. “There’s no way he’s eating for free now.”

Unfortunately, Black Water’s words had clawed their way under Xie Lian’s skin. Although Xie Lian couldn’t die, not even as a stoat, there was a very real possibility that he wouldn’t be liked by His Highness. Although Xie Lian knew they wouldn’t find His Highness in the heavens, it seemed likely, with all of Hua Cheng’s persistent searching, that he would be found soon. Wouldn’t Hua Cheng be put in a hard position if his special someone disliked Xueqiu? What would happen? It was as if another weight had been added to Xie Lian’s shoulders, reminding him of all the complications his presence in Paradise Manor was causing.

After a while, when Yin Yu had approached Hua Cheng in his study and informed him that “Lord Black Water has emptied the larder, Chengzhu,” Hua Cheng returned to the dining room to drag the other ghost king away from his heaping pile of noodles and duck. With one hand gripping the back of Black Water’s collar and the other gently carrying Xie Lian, Hua Cheng towed his scowling guest off of his property before releasing the other ghost king onto the ground with a thud.

Crimson Rain pointed a well-manicured finger. “Black Water, you better not miss anything tomorrow. Report everything in full detail — I want to know if there’s a single hair out of place on that bastard Jun Wu’s head. If you aren’t going to let me send a butterfly with you, it’s the least you can do.”

Black Water dusted himself off as he stood up with a gloomy expression. “Having one of your butterflies on my clone or me would be a death sentence. There’s no way it’ll get past Jun Wu. So just quit your fussing, I’ll relay to you everything I see.”

Hua Cheng huffed. “You better. Now get the hell out of my city.”

With a mocking, overexaggerated bow, Black Water disappeared.

That night, Hua Cheng surprisingly decided to sleep. It was the first time Xie Lian had ever seen him do so. Previously, the ghost king had stayed constantly dedicated to his studies, both day and night. Now, he lingered by the vanity where Xie Lian rested on his cushion, and stared at the mirror. Xie Lian watched him as his face remained blank at his reflection, as if he was unimpressed with what he saw. 

“Xueqiu,” he said, voice barely above a whisper as he continued to look into the mirror. “There is a chance I will have to leave you tomorrow. If I have to leave, I’m not sure if I’ll come back. But it’s something I must do, ok? Yin Yu will take good care of you. He’s very responsible, but don’t tell him I said that.” The ghost king laughed slightly at his own joke and glanced up at the ceiling, as if some answer was written up there, before continuing.

“Black Water’s right. It has been out of character for me to take an animal in like this. I’m not exactly a… caring person, as I’m sure you’ve noticed. I was not meant to bring comfort. Fate created me as a vessel for spreading misfortune — created me as a weapon. In life, my existence was a curse to those with the heart to come close to me. I was a too-sharp blade, a poison to those who touched me. In death, I have had the opportunity to take control of myself. I can wield myself now, use myself against my enemies and the enemies of my beloved. It is an honor to be his weapon.”

Hua Cheng slowly tilted his head down to look at Xie Lian, who stared up at him with bated breath. The soft light of the bedroom was beginning to dim as the lantern’s flame burned out, but a few stray shadows danced across the ghost king’s face, giving him a radiance previously unknown to Xie Lian.

“Weapons are not people. Weapons are not loved. You have been very good to me, Xueqiu. In truth, you have been a comfort beyond anything I’ve experienced in centuries. I don’t fully understand how you have managed to bring me such joy, but I thank you for it. You’re a remarkably smart and caring creature. And because of that, you deserve to have someone to love. I hope one day, you find that.” With that, the ghost king shut his eye, and turned away to return to his bed.

Xie Lian had always loved weapons. One of his earliest memories was sneaking into the royal armory, just to catch a glimpse of the famed armaments that would one day be his. No sword was too dull, no spear was too rusted — every weapon had been a story to him. Each carried the memories and will of their past owners, each had seen moments of victory and defeat, each had been crafted with dual purpose — to protect, to hurt. But perhaps the two were the same. What could be protected without inflicting harm, and what could be harmed without in turn protecting something precious? It was a question Xie Lian had long debated, a question that resurfaced every time he tried to save something and failed. But nonetheless, even after he had been maimed a hundred times, Xie Lian loved weapons.

So now, as the ghost king laid down to rest and prepare himself for whatever tomorrow would bring, Xie Lian followed him. He leapt off his cushion, the one that Hua Cheng had so caringly picked out for him, and bounded across the room to the bottom of the bed. Without a moment’s hesitation, he flung himself upwards, landing on the soft mattress with a quiet thump. In a blur of white barely visible in the darkening room, he reached Hua Cheng’s head, and burrowed into the crook of his neck fiercely. 

Crimson Rain immediately stiffened at the sensation of warm fur pressed against his skin, before instinctively raising a hand from his side to stroke at Xie Lian’s back. A disbelieving chuckle rumbled from his throat, one that Xie Lian could feel every vibration of as he cuddled even closer. 

“Ah, Xueqiu, you never fail to surprise me. I’ll… miss you. I hope you won’t miss me. I doubt you will. But who knows, perhaps Black Water is wrong, and nothing at all has happened in the heavens. My worrying is doing no one any good,” the ghost king sighed heavily.  He gave a few more lingering pets. “Let’s just go to sleep, hmm? I’d like to be in top shape for tomorrow. So, won’t you stay here with me for tonight, Xueqiu? My little good luck charm?”

If it had been any other night, Xie Lian would have readily agreed to spend the night curled up against Hua Cheng’s shoulder. It was something he often thought of doing as he nodded off on his pillow while watching Hua Cheng tirelessly flip through pages. But the heavy, suffocating parasite of guilt would allow him to make no such promise. For Xie Lian was certainly no good luck charm, and he certainly couldn’t stay. He had already decided while Hua Cheng was speaking that the mission must come to an end before any more misunderstandings and conflict arose, before the ghost king either stormed the heavens out of false hope or had his heart broken at yet another dead end. It was time for Xie Lian to stop pretending and to return to being the debt-riddled, disrespected god he deserved to be. To linger any longer would simply make parting even harder in the future. Xie Lian had only hopped up on the ghost king's bed to say goodbye. 

But, of course, there was no way to tell Hua Cheng that. So instead, he softly chirped, pressing his cold, wet nose into the ghost king’s jawline. Ever so gently, a cool hand wrapped around his body, as if enveloping him in a hug. 

“Goodnight, Xueqiu,” Crimson Rain whispered, relaxing his hand but keeping it draped over Xie Lian as a comforting weight.

Xie Lian waited for what seemed to be ages until the sound of Crimson Rain’s unnecessary, artificial breaths evened out. And with that, Xie Lian carefully slipped out from under the ghost king’s hand, slid down the bed sheet to the floor, and crept out of the bedroom, which always had a cracked door to allow his coming and going, just like every entrance and exit of Paradise Manor.

Chapter Text

In the dead of night, Xie Lian scurried along the edges of the winding walls of Paradise Manor. In human form, this would surely have been a difficult task. Paradise Manor was already dimly lit at the best of times, but at night it was nearly pitch black. However, Xie Lian had been delighted to learn that stoats have excellent night vision, something he had never had to test before while being a completely spoiled house pet. He could clearly see the familiar turns and corners he had come to know during his almost three-week stay at Paradise Manor. 

As he got further from the bedroom, Ruoye began to stir around his neck. He stopped a moment to give a quick shake, hoping that Ruoye would catch the hint to be still. Yet Ruoye continued to twist and tug at him, as if trying to lead him back to bed. How willful! Xie Lian made a mental note to have a stern conversation with Ruoye once he regained his ability to speak.

However, Ruoye’s antics had forced him to confront what he was leaving behind. He thought of the soft, plush pillow on top of the vanity that had served as a bed. He thought of waking up with the knowledge that he would be given a hearty meal whenever he wanted, even if it was raw meat — hey, he had eaten bugs and tree bark while human before, this was practically a delicacy! He thought about idle mornings and sunny afternoons chasing butterflies. He thought about a red-robed man who dedicated himself so wholly to another. He thought of a charming, slightly-fanged smile and a twinkling black eye. He thought of cold hands that somehow gave the warmest embraces.

He willed himself to think no more as he slipped into the garden where Hua Cheng often placed him while he worked in his studio. Past plum trees and chrysanthemums, he found the latticed wall which separated the garden from the rest of Ghost City. The openings in the red lattice were far too small for any ghost, mortal, or god to fit through, but certainly big enough for a stoat. 

The urge to look back at the manor felt almost irresistible. But doing so would only weaken his resolve, so Xie Lian rushed forward and climbed into the biggest gap, tumbling through to the other side.

The hardest part, leaving Hua Cheng, was complete. Now, he just had to find a safe, empty place to pray to Jun Wu at and be reverted to human form so he could show himself to Black Water’s clone and prove that Hua Cheng’s beloved really hadn’t ascended… simple enough!

Since he had very limited experience navigating the streets of Ghost City, he chose a random direction to run towards and hoped no more butchers or opportunistic children would notice him. The buildings became taller and taller as he hurried into what must be the heart of Ghost City’s nighttime marketplace. Xie Lian had considered the city to be quite busy during the day, but it was almost pure chaos at night. After all, ghosts needed no sleep, and mortals who snuck in preferred to carry out their shady business under the guise of night. Xie Lian could have sworn he even recognized a disguised god or two from one of his past ascensions. It seemed that the notorious, illicit goods of the ghostly realm appealed to those from all walks of life.

Hugging the shadows of stalls, Xie Lian skirted around the many vendors and streetwalkers vying for the attention of the masses. After too many close encounters with stomping feet during what seemed to be an endless journey through a sea of ghosts, he got to the other end of the marketplace in one piece. 

With the clamor of peddlers fading behind him, he continued his search for a place to pray. The landscape had changed from towering buildings to residential properties, similar to where he had met the ghost children at the beginning of his adventure. This time, not a single ghost was outside. It seemed this neighborhood of Ghost City was not as affluent as the one he had passed through earlier. The houses were more decrepit, fences were beginning to rot, and there were no obvious signs of habitation. It was a strange sight in such a lively city, but exactly the sort of place that Xie Lian was looking for.

Halfway down the street he was on, he picked a building that looked particularly abandoned. It must have been the oldest building, and was definitely the largest. There would likely be many rooms where he could pray, turn human, and be brought back to the heavens without being noticed.

The door was closed, but the wood had decayed and splintered enough that he could claw and gnaw through it. It wasn’t pleasant and he felt rather bad for defacing Hua Cheng’s city, but he added it to the long list of things to apologize to the ghost king for once he had the chance. After a few minutes of effort, the hole in the door was large enough for him to squeeze through.

There was no lighting inside the home, as to be expected. Only the faint red glow of Ghost City illuminated the interior through the windows. Xie Lian’s vision adjusted quickly as he walked in, and he saw no trace of anybody in the house. He found the room with the least furnishing, just in case he broke something during his transformation. Sitting down in the center, he closed his eyes, and began to pray.

Heavenly Emperor, your servant would like to return.

There was silence. 

Undeterred, Xie Lian tried again, this time with a little more flair.

Heavenly Emperor, Divine Might, Jun Wu, this lowly Xianle humbly requests that he be restored to his true form and allowed back into the heavens.

Still nothing.

Alarm was beginning to set in. Was Jun Wu able to respond to someone in the ghostly realm? Was he even able to respond to an animal?

… Was he just choosing not to respond?

Somehow, the cursed shackles on his tail felt even heavier.

Panic would solve nothing. Perhaps Jun Wu simply needed some time. Xie Lian resolved to wait patiently. He lay flat against the rough, rammed earth, and closed his eyes in an attempt to meditate.

It could have been minutes or hours before the light of Ghost City began to slowly intensify. Xie Lian opened his eyes, and gave one last, futile look around him. Just as he feared, there was no change to his appearance or surroundings. Jun Wu had simply not answered.

The fact that the city was brightening was a sign that sunrise was coming in the mortal and heavenly realms. Hua Cheng would surely awaken soon to await Black Water’s report. It couldn’t be more than a couple hours until Black Water would meet with Jun Wu and send his clone. There was no more time to waste sitting around — he had to return to Hua Cheng and step in if things went wrong or Black Water’s report was misleading. He could dip his paws in ink again and spell out a warning, an apology, an explanation! He couldn’t just sit back and hope that everything worked out!

He quickly ran to the door and scrambled so hurriedly out of the hole that he cut himself deeply on one of the splinters. His bad luck, which so curiously was held at bay while he stayed with Hua Cheng, seemed to have returned in full force. No matter, the blood quickly flowing from the gash was just a bit of red to help him blend in with the rest of the city.

With a racing heart and anxious mind, he darted down the street, intent on retracing his path from Paradise Manor as quickly as possible. However, an unexpected shout cut through his concentration, and against his better judgement, he faltered. What if Jun Wu had sent someone after all?

The shout had come from a figure emerging from one of the houses he had just passed. A ghost, grotesquely shaped and adorned with a green lantern on his head, was pointing a crooked finger right at him in shock. 

“Xiongdi, look! A stoat, just like the one Hua Cheng is rumored to have picked up!” the ghost hollered.

Not good, not good! Xie Lian didn’t want to stick around long enough to meet this guy’s xiongdi. He sprinted off from the ghost as fast as he could, but the sound of footsteps quickly followed.

“Don’t lose sight of him! If we manage to catch him, Boss will be so pleased! Maybe he’ll use the thing as bait for Crimson Rain and finally knock him down a peg!” a new voice called out.

Although his lungs were beginning to burn, the threat to Hua Cheng pushed Xie Lian to run even faster. It was a frantic blur, shrubs and buildings whizzing by him, as his two pursuers gained on him little by little. Although stoats could run quite fast, his small legs still put him at a disadvantage. Once the ghosts were in closer range, they began to throw random scraps they had found in their pockets at him — a few coins, a crude hairpin, even some sort of seal — in the hopes of breaking his sprint. Even now his scrap-collecting tendencies arose and he felt the urge to inspect the state of what had been thrown at him to see what it was worth. With much self-discipline, he refrained.

He didn’t feel like he was in any real danger until a small dagger was flung clumsily at him, its hilt landing on the ground a few inches from his head with a thump. Perhaps these ghosts were more armed than he initially thought. Ruoye began to squirm again, and this time he gave a small nod, allowing it to fly out like a viper eager to strike. The ghosts startled at the sight, skidding to a halt.

“What the fuck?! What is that thing?! Did Hua Cheng put some sort of protection device on his pet?” 

“It’s tiny though! Like a kid’s hair ribbon! What kind of harm could it do?”

Xie Lian continued to run, only slowing a bit so he could turn his head to see Ruoye expand and tie up their pursuers. However, what he saw instead made him trip over his own paws in shock. 

Ruoye hadn’t been able to expand at all! Not even able to lengthen itself like normal, the poor silk had tried to wrap itself around the ghosts. Unfortunately, it couldn’t even encompass one of their waists, earning a chuckle from the ghost. 

“Ha, it’s powerless, just like I thought!”

Horror was beginning to set in, like ice water was flowing through Xie Lian’s veins instead of blood. He was stuck as a stoat, and Ruoye’s power had diminished too? Was the ghostly realm interfering with Jun Wu’s spell? Had the spell been improperly casted to begin with? Had…

A hand clamped down on his back, pinning him to the ground. While Xie Lian had worriedly been watching Ruoye struggling with the laughing ghosts, a third had snuck up behind him. 

Stupid , Xie Lian chastised himself.

“Ah, is this what you two morons were chasing after?” the third ghost said, staring down at Xie Lian with a predatory glint in his eyes.

“Liu Gang, hand it over! We found it first, it’s ours!” one of the two ghosts cried, as the other managed to tie Ruoye into a knot and discarded him onto the ground like a piece of litter. Xie Lian couldn’t suppress the whine he made at the sight.

Liu Gang simply plucked Xie Lian up by the scruff of his neck, dangling him for inspection like some necklace he found at a common stall. The ghost, who was considerably larger than the other two but had the same green lantern on his head, eyed him appraisingly as Xie Lian flailed around with all his might. 

“Hmm, but you didn’t manage to catch it though. I did, so doesn’t that make it mine?”

The other two ghosts stomped their feet. “No, you thief! You can’t just take the credit for it!”

A harsh laugh cut through their whines. “Ah, but you two won’t be able to contain the little beast. Look, it’s quite feisty.” Liu Gang extended the violently-thrashing Xie Lian towards them, as if to show off. 

He continued. “If it landed a bite on you, I’m sure it would hurt. Luckily, I’ve got just the thing.”

Although Xie Lian tried to wrench himself free from that punishing grasp with all his might, a paper talisman was slapped on his back regardless. “Freeze,” Liu Gang said with a laugh.

And Xie Lian froze.

It didn’t take long to realize that these must be lackeys of Night-Touring Green Lantern, the imitative ghost king who didn’t quite live up to his peers. The lanterns atop their heads were blatant signs of their loyalty, which Xie Lian immediately figured out once he had quite literally been forced to stay still and stop focusing on running away. It wasn’t clear if they camped out in the empty neighborhood of Ghost City or simply had been in the area, but it seemed that Night-Touring Green Lantern was almost constantly trying to gain some sort of advantage over Crimson Rain, always to no avail.

After Liu Gang had placed the command talisman on him and threatened to do the same to his peers, he began walking further from the center of Ghost City, down a road that looked increasingly overgrown. He continued to hold Xie Lian by the scruff, like some game he had successfully hunted. With his cut from the door still bleeding slightly due to being handled so roughly, Xie Lian was sure he looked the part. The two ghosts from before trudged along a few paces behind with sour pouts on their faces. 

They walked in silence for some time, the sounds of Ghost City fading away in the background. As he was haphazardly swung around with every step, Xie Lian could barely make out a forest in the distance. Liu Gang seemed to hasten his pace once he caught sight of it. 

“You two, stop moping and help me find the closest gate to the mortal realm. They’re typically invisible and always shifting, but a lot of times you can tell where one is by the grass patterns around the tree roots. The quicker you find it, the more I’ll consider mentioning your names when I present the beast to Boss,” he called out.

The two ghosts spared each other a surprised glance before eagerly running up to the trees, crouching down to inspect the ground. Liu Gang hung back a bit and turned around to look at the road they had just walked down. He shifted on his feet a little, his grip on Xie Lian’s neck tightening, his gaze locked on the horizon. What is he watching for? Xie Lian wondered apprehensively.

Frustrated grumbles came from behind. “It all just looks like regular old grass! Is there another way to tell?”

Liu Gang huffed but didn’t turn to look at them. “Maybe it’s not the grass this time, geez, I don’t know! Just look for some sort of anomaly, something out of the ordinary. A gate can’t be far from here, the flow of life is strong at this spot.”

The grumbling continued, but the other ghosts began to shuffle around a bit more, swatting at branches and kicking tree trunks as they searched.

Like Liu Gang, Xie Lian stared off into the distance in the direction they came from. The light of the city on the horizon had grown even brighter. It might already be mid-morning, Xie Lian despaired. Black Water will surely deliver his report soon. I hope my absence isn’t a distraction for Hua Cheng.

After thinking this, Xie Lian cringed at himself. Wasn’t it more than a little pretentious to think a missing stoat could compare to the news Hua Cheng had so anxiously been awaiting? 

Suddenly, an immense pressure manifested in the area, crashing upon them like a fearsome wave. The air grew hot, almost humid with intent. Liu Gang stiffened. The two ghosts behind him ceased their searching, and turned around.

Down the road, a red figure was rapidly approaching.

“Shit!” Liu Gang swore loudly. “Shit, shit, shit!”

One of the ghosts began to stammer and wail. “How the fuck… how the fuck did he know where to find us?! How did he know it was us??”

His companion gasped, then turned on him in a rage. “You idiot! He probably found that seal you threw along with that thing’s ribbon! That was Boss’s seal, he must have spotted it on the ground then tracked our footprints!”

Liu Gang whipped around to face them, his eyes wide as his voice uncharacteristically began to tremble. “We need to get the hell out of here, right now —”

But it was too late. There was a blinding flash of red, black, and silver, and instantly Hua Cheng appeared before them, his hand gripping a limp and tangled Ruoye, his eye aglow with a red gleam. The three ghosts fell to their knees under the weight of the evil aura emanating from the ghost king.

As they fell, Liu Gang’s grasp on Xie Lian’s scruff slackened, and Xie Lian felt himself begin to drop towards the earth like a dead weight, still rendered immobile by the talisman. However, the impact he expected never came. Instead, a gentle, familiar hand had caught him in the midst of his fall.

Xie Lian stared up in shock at the ghost king, who cradled him to his chest. That lone, dark eye stared back, softening with relief and some foreign emotion. Xie Lian didn’t move — couldn’t move. That was when Crimson Rain’s eye drifted to the talisman on Xie Lian’s back, and the gash along his ribs.

His eye became an inferno.

“Tell me,” he growled, his gaze not wavering from the wound. “How would you three like to meet your end? Will you hand over your ashes to me now, or do I have to torture you until I find them myself?”

The ghosts began to choke on the air as they tried to respond.

“I-it was inj-injured when we found it!” one cried out, voice warbling and cracking.

The ghost king laughed, but it was nothing like how he laughed fondly at Xueqiu’s antics. It was cold and malevolent, like some ancient curse that had been unleashed.

“That’s not what I asked. I have no more time to waste on you — you’ve wasted more than enough already. Your window of opportunity, which you so strongly undeserved, has closed. Torture and a slow, agonizing dispersal it is.” And with a snap of Hua Cheng’s fingers, the three ghosts vanished.

Throughout the whole ordeal, Hua Cheng’s eye had not left Xie Lian. But now, as they were left alone at the treeline of the forest, that eye turned sorrowful and almost misty. He tore his focus away to reach into his pocket and draw out his dice. With a quick roll, they were transported back to Hua Cheng’s bedroom in Paradise Manor.

Setting Xie Lian down softly on the bed with the knotted Ruoye, Hua Cheng carefully peeled the talisman off of Xie Lian’s back, allowing him to instantly relax his aching muscles. Xie Lian took a few deep breaths, savoring the way his chest could move unconstricted. A thumb brushed gently over his wound, and instantly spiritual energy flooded the opening, stitching the skin back together.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice like a scared child’s, and Xie Lian’s heart immediately rioted. 

There was no blame that didn’t lie solely with Xie Lian. It was his mission, his stupidity, his arrogance that had caused all of this.

“You were hurt and scared, and I wasn’t there. I’m never there. Never where I need to be. I’m sorry.”

The ghost king sat down next to him on the bed, looking down at his hands, and there was a long silence.

“He wasn’t in heaven,” Hua Cheng said quietly after a while, and Xie Lian stilled once more. “Black Water found nothing to report… I’ve failed to find him once again. It should be easier to accept at this point, shouldn’t it?” He barked out a laugh. “After all, all I’ve ever done is fail him, time and time again. And now, I’ve failed you. What if he’s out there somewhere, hurt and scared just like you were, and I’m not there? I’m sorry, I’m — ”

Xie Lian would have no more. He chirped fiercely, and scrambled up the ghost king’s arm to reach his neck, which he wrapped around in his best attempt at comfort. Hua Cheng’s hand rose to cup his back.

“My love is a ruinous thing, Xueqiu,” the ghost king rasped. “You shouldn’t be near me.”

Xie Lian just squeezed tighter before relaxing a bit to perch on Hua Cheng’s shoulder and press his nose to Hua Cheng’s jaw, just like he had done the previous night. As if on instinct, Crimson Rain tilted his head down, and his lips pressed a light peck on Xie Lian’s head.

Perhaps the ghost king thought Xie Lian needed more spiritual energy to recover from his shock and wound, or perhaps his emotions were too turbulent and caused him to lose control over how he transmitted his power. Regardless, a strong, almost-overwhelming flow of qi started to rush down Xie Lian’s spine, and the ever-present weight of the shackles on his tail strangely began to lift.

As Hua Cheng pulled away, his eye flickered to something just behind Xie Lian, and he froze with a peculiar expression on his face. Xie Lian, slightly dazed from the transfer of energy and relief, turned to follow his gaze and froze as well.

The stark blackness of the tip of his tail had begun to fade, shrinking in size until it was only a narrow band!

At that moment, Ruoye, still on the bed, gave a weak wriggle against his knot, so subtle that it could be mistaken for a wave in the breeze. However, the ghost king, who was already on high alert after seeing his stoat’s tail change color, immediately whipped his head to the side to face the ribbon. Ruoye wilted slightly into the bed, and Hua Cheng gave a sharp inhale, staring at the white piece of cloth as if he had suddenly realized something.

“...”

The ghost king’s widening eye and slackening jaw was not noticed by Xie Lian, who was still staring at the small strip of black on his tail. The tip of his tail no longer felt as if it weighed four times his body weight, and was now only perhaps twice as heavy as it should be. He flicked it experimentally, entranced by the way it cut through the air so easily. In fact, every movement he made seemed easier. But there wasn’t much time to test out his new strength before a light yet urgent tap landed on his head. He turned forward to face the ghost king, whose returning gaze looked closer to a gawk. 

“Excuse me,” Crimson Rain murmured, voice trembling ever so slightly on the first syllable. And before Xie Lian could question it, Hua Cheng kissed the top of his head once more.

The transfer of spiritual energy came instantly. Like the most radiant heat, it spread through his neck, his torso, his limbs, his tail. It buzzed like pure adrenaline in his veins, making his heart pound. The pressure surrounding the black band on his tail grew and grew, to the point where Xie Lian began to wonder if it would simply burst.

And then, something did burst. The weight on his tail completely lifted at once, and it was as if he had never had a tail at all. All of the sensations ended abruptly afterwards, like a flame snuffed out, and Xie Lian was left with a weightless, floaty feeling, gasping for air. 

After a moment of simply staring up at the ceiling while trying to fill his lungs with the breath he had been holding through the whole ordeal, Xie Lian felt his mind begin to calm. With a shaky exhale, he forced his head down to look back at his tail and see the state of the black tip. Perhaps the cursed shackles had shrunk even more.

But behind him was nothing. Not just no band of black on his tail, but no tail at all! He stared blankly at the empty space, before realizing that the huge bed he had been set on before suddenly felt much more reasonably sized. In fact, everything in the room seemed much more reasonably sized.

His heart began to race so quickly that he thought it would rupture his chest. He pressed his fingers to his neck and ankle and felt no shackles. Whirling around, he stared down at himself, and saw pale, familiar arms and legs in front of him. Human arms and legs. 

Bare human arms and legs.

The sight was enough to snap him out of the daze he had been in. He shrieked, immediately yanking up the bedding to cover himself. And finally, with a fiery blush and anxious heart, he forced his eyes to meet the burning gaze he had felt on him the whole time.

Even after a lengthy moment of Xie Lian searching for some distinguishable emotion, Crimson Rain Sought Flower’s expression could not be parsed. His eye was wide enough to see the white surrounding the dark iris all around, his brow comically lifted to where the skin of his forehead rippled, and his mouth was agape, like his jaw had suddenly become dead weight. Somehow, Hua Cheng simultaneously looked like he had witnessed his entire bloodline slaughtered before him and had just been gifted all of the world’s most precious treasures.

“I’m sorry!” Xie Lian blurted out without thinking, voice slightly raspy from disuse. “I’m sorry!” he groaned as he pressed his hands to his face, feeling completely overwhelmed in deciding how best to explain himself. 

Hua Cheng instantly stiffened and shook his head violently, as if the apology was a curse. “No, Your Hi —” he began urgently, before abruptly cutting himself off. He coughed a little. “You’re… human?” he asked instead, his pitch awkwardly high. 

With his head still in his hands, Xie Lian nodded as best he could. He knew the ghost king deserved a detailed, honest, heartfelt explanation, but at that moment it took all his fortitude to simply remember to breathe. 

You’ve already embarrassed yourself enough , a voice in his head chided. You don’t deserve the dignity of saving face and looking presentable while you apologize. You gave up those rights when you agreed to this mission.

Xie Lian peeled his hands away from his face, but before he could bring his gaze up to meet Hua Cheng’s, a warm fabric suddenly was draped over his shoulders. His head lifted in an instant, but the ghost king was already retreating, putting a respectable distance between them after having given up his outer robe. Xie Lian was at a loss for words once more before remembering himself. He wrapped the robe tightly around his person before falling into a kowtow.

“Lord Chengzhu, this lowly one is called Xie Lian, and is entirely to blame and cannot apologize enough. I have violated your trust, and I will accept whatever punishment you deem fit. If you’ll allow me, I can explain how I ended up here.”

If Xie Lian hadn’t had his forehead pressed to the bed in a bow, he would have seen the way that Hua Cheng instinctively reached towards his shoulders to lift him from his kowtow, only to hesitate at the last second and withdraw. 

“No, please, there’s no need for that,” the ghost king said quickly. The gentle, entreating tone he used only worsened Xie Lian’s guilt. “Just tell me, who… did this to you?”

It really was all just too much. Traitorous tears began to well up in Xie Lian’s eyes, and he didn’t dare lift his head yet. “No one,” he replied shakily. “I did this entirely to myself. I recently ascended, and caused a complete mess in the heavens. This mission, spying on you , was how I was supposed to repay my debts. I told myself I would give you your privacy and stay out of your affairs, but it was all just a way to make myself feel better for accepting the mission. I told myself that I wouldn’t share any of your secrets with the heavens, but isn’t it bad enough that I have intruded like this? I have failed in keeping my distance and have overheard your concerns about your beloved in the heavens. And I’m so, so sorry, but it wasn’t him who ascended weeks ago. It was just me.”

There was a long silence, and finally Xie Lian looked up. Tears had already been on the brink of spilling, but seeing the utter disbelief painted across the ghost king’s face was the final push. 

“I’m so sorry,” Xie Lian whispered.

Chapter Text

Upon feeling his cheeks grow wet, Xie Lian stiffened and quickly rubbed his eyes with the heel of his palms. “Ah, I’m sorry, I don’t know why I’m crying. It’s ridiculous of me…”

“No, please, don’t apologize for anything,” Hua Cheng sputtered, seeming quite alarmed at the sight of tears. “It’s completely understandable that you’d be upset right now. After all, you’ve spent the past weeks trapped in a foreign body, captured by ghosts on a leash, treated like a pet, kidnapped and injured by malicious spirits…” listed Hua Cheng, growing increasingly strained-sounding as he continued. “I’ve called you Xueqiu on a whim… you’ve been subjected to boring days around the manor… Black Water and I have argued repeatedly around you… you’ve seen and heard all of my rambles… oh… ”

Although it was fascinating how the ghost king’s face went from deathly pale to deathly paler to suddenly bright red with embarrassment as he sat frozen on the bed, Xie Lian couldn’t stand to see him so worked up.

“Ah, don’t think anything of it! Really, the last few weeks with you have been the best I’ve experienced in a long, long time. Truly, none of those things you mentioned are making me cry right now… Are you ok?!”

While Xie Lian had been responding, Hua Cheng’s eye had only been growing wider as his gaze frantically flit about the room like he was recalling everything about the past three weeks. At Xie Lian’s concerned inquiry, he seemed to snap out of his frenzy and cleared his throat.

“Ahem, yes, I’m perfectly fine, don’t worry about me.” His expression became anxious. “What about you? Are you alright? Is your injury not healed and causing you pain? What made you cry? Tell me, and I’ll do whatever I can to fix it.”

Xie Lian could only look at him in shock. Was this how Crimson Rain Sought Flower treated every spy that the heavens sent? 

Maybe he forgot that Xie Lian had been a spy all that time and needed a reminder.

“Lord Chengzhu,” Xie Lian ventured hesitantly, only to watch Hua Cheng flinch in response. “Perhaps I wasn’t clear before. This whole time, I’ve been a spy from the heavens.” 

Hua Cheng looked pained, and Xie Lian prepared himself for the heartache that was sure to come. However, the ghost king’s response only shocked him further. “Please, don’t call me Lord Chengzhu. It’s much too formal, and I’m in no position of power over you.”

Xie Lian felt his jaw drop. He was sure he misheard. “What?”

Hua Cheng scratched his head a little before taking a deep breath. “Call me San Lang, if you’d like.”

San Lang?!

“Lord Cheng — S-San Lang , I fear you might not be understanding what I’m saying. The Heavenly Emperor, Jun Wu, disguised me as a stoat and purposefully sent me here to gather intel on you without you knowing. Doesn’t that make you upset at all?”

Indeed, Hua Cheng’s expression grew distant and murderous, and Xie Lian relaxed. Finally, he would get the punishment he deserved for betraying the ghost king’s trust so atrociously.

“I haven’t misunderstood you, and I apologize for making you think I haven’t taken this seriously. The sin is unforgivable. I will not rest until all parties are sufficiently dealt with.”

Sensing real anger from Crimson Rain, Xie Lian nodded along encouragingly. This was good. Maybe he’d be thrown in the dungeon soon and could start acclimating to his new living situation right away.

Hua Cheng’s gaze focused on Xie Lian once more, burning with intent. “Tell me, what would you like me to do to them? I have many ideas, but your wishes come first of course.”

Xie Lian blinked. “Huh? Are you asking me what sort of punishment I’d like?” he asked, stunned. No one had ever asked him for his preferences like that. It was oddly endearing.

It was then Hua Cheng’s turn to look surprised. “What?”

Xie Lian pointed at himself. “You’re going to punish me and you want suggestions on how to do so, right? Well, I used to be unable to die, but you shattered my cursed shackles when you transferred spiritual energy for my wound, so you could probably kill me successfully now if you’d like. As for torture —”

He wasn’t allowed to finish his musings, as Hua Cheng hurriedly interrupted him. “No! I’m not punishing you!” The ghost king looked utterly distraught at the very suggestion, as if Xie Lian’s casual offer to die or be tortured was simply too much. Inhaling shakily, he steadied his voice and plastered on a calmer facade. “No more harm will come to you, please believe me. I only wish to know how you’d like me to punish the heavens.”

Something very strange was going on. Why did the ghost king demand no recompense from the spy himself? With that sort of attitude, Crimson Rain was only opening himself up for more intruders and attacks. Slightly flustered, Xie Lian felt the need to point this out.

“San Lang, you really shouldn’t let me get away with this. Going easy on those who have wronged you probably isn’t good for your reputation as a Calamity.”

Bewildered and flushed, Hua Cheng stared intensely at Xie Lian. With such a pinched brow, he was sure to get a headache soon. “Do you… want to be punished?”

Rubbing his forehead, Xie Lian considered this briefly. Crime could only be absolved through punishment, but it wasn’t like Xie Lian particularly liked being in pain. 

“I don’t think it’s a matter if I want to be punished, but more like I’m concerned for your safety and the security of your manor if you’re this lenient…”

Hua Cheng started to massage his temples. “I see…”

He doesn’t sound like he understands at all , Xie Lian thought to himself. Should I lay it out more clearly?

Wrapping the red outer robe that Hua Cheng had provided him a little more securely around himself, Xie Lian squared his shoulders and continued. “Even if somehow you could forgive me for spying, you should realize that my ascension was what caused all the confusion about your special someone. And I’ve completely ruined your plan to raise a pet for them! Now that the cursed shackles are gone my luck should come back slowly, maybe I can help you find your beloved and a new stoat for them?”

Hua Cheng massaged his temples even harder and faster as his lips began to purse. “Ah…”

Although Xie Lian waited for the ghost king to continue, there was only an awkward silence as the man rubbed his head furiously.

Well, quite a lot had happened. Poor Crimson Rain was likely overwhelmed, faced with the ugly truth about his pet stoat and all. Perhaps he needed a moment to process everything. Xie Lian gathered up his robe and prepared to stand up. The movement seemed to break Hua Cheng out of his reverie, and he looked at Xie Lian with alarm, his shoulders tensing into a rigid line. “Your H — you’re leaving?”

This was said in such a fearful tone that Xie Lian instantly halted and explained himself. “I just thought you might like some space, that’s all! I won’t leave if you don’t want me to.” 

Dropping his hand from his temple, Hua Cheng shook his head. “Please, don’t leave on my account. I understand if you feel uncomfortable around me and would like to go, but know that I need no space from you.”

These words sounded so sincere that Xie Lian’s flustered mind started to ease a little and he sat back down. He truly is too kind for his own good, Xie Lian thought fondly. How on earth did he get so mischaracterized?  

“I don’t want to leave,” said Xie Lian gently. Looking at Hua Cheng, it seemed the man might pass out at the slightest disturbance. It was best to keep things even-keeled. So, he allowed himself to smile softly at Hua Cheng. It felt more than a little shameless, seeing as how he was a traitorous villain and all, but Xie Lian genuinely wanted to smile at Hua Cheng and it seemed Hua Cheng genuinely could use a smile. And what shame did Xie Lian even have left in him?

But as soon as Xie Lian offered that small smile, the ghost king’s eye widened and his face went red once more. It was quite interesting, when Xie Lian thought about it. Did ghosts even have blood to flush like that?

Taking blood circulation to be a good sign (maybe it was Hua Cheng’s way of showing his approval of Xie Lian’s humanness?), Xie Lian continued. “You know, you’ve been very good to me. In just a few weeks, you’ve shown me what a truly exceptional man you are,” Xie Lian praised whole-heartedly. Hua Cheng’s face was starting to look more purple than red, but Xie Lian pressed on. This was important, after all. “The heavens are completely wrong about you. If you wish to keep me here prisoner, I’ll gladly stay. However, if you wish for me to go back to the heavens, I would give them nothing but the highest praise for you. I have no intentions of telling them any of the things that I’ve learned during my time here, but I could act as a diplomat of sorts. I could even act as an extra pair of eyes searching for your beloved.”

Saying that last part tasted a little sour in Xie Lian’s mouth, but he tried to school his expression. It was only right that he should help San Lang however he could, after all. An idea struck him.

“Why don’t you show me your drawings again? I saw one of your doodles briefly before stepping in that ink, but I think my mind must have been befuddled when I saw it,” he admitted, internally cringing at the recollection of how he had thought the picture looked like him. Really, he had no shame at all! “You’re very talented, by the way. Even if my mind was distracted, I could tell just by that doodle that you must be a wonderful artist.”

If ghosts could sweat, Hua Cheng definitely was. His cheeks were like shiny plums, and his hands trembled like leaves. He mumbled something that suspiciously sounded like, “I must not draw very realistically,” but Xie Lian couldn’t understand why he’d say such a thing and decided to ignore it since it didn’t seem like the ghost king meant for him to hear. Best not to intrude more than he already had.

Wiping his brow and taking a shaky breath, Hua Cheng began to speak in a strained voice. “Ah, it seems there is much to discuss indeed. But first, I fear I have been a careless host and must make amends. You could surely, uh, benefit from some new c-clothes, a bath, and a meal, perhaps?”

Xie Lian blinked. Then, he suddenly recalled his current state — completely naked except for the ghost king’s outer robe, hair a mess, probably smelling like an animal…

He flushed furiously, all other thoughts immediately discarded. “Oh gods, I must reek! I’ve been talking your ear off while assaulting your poor nose! Forgive me San Lang!” He moved to kowtow once again.

Aghast, Hua Cheng clasped his shoulders and lifted him up. “No! You smell wonderful!” he declared passionately. Then he seemed to cringe at himself, as if realizing what he just said. “Ah, I mean, I only offered a bath since I thought you might find it relaxing. N-nothing more.”

Relieved, Xie Lian sighed. “Oh thank goodness.” Then a memory came to him, and he laughed. “Haha, will you try to bathe me like you did when I got ink on my paws?”

It had seemed like a funny joke to Xie Lian before he said it, but once it left his mouth he started to feel that it was entirely improper to be saying now that he was human. The rattled expression forming on Hua Cheng’s face seemed to confirm this. Xie Lian gave a nervous chuckle and hid his head in his hands. “Ah, please forget I said that…”

The ghost king made no agreement to forget those words, but spoke instead. “Don’t worry about it at all. Forgive me, but I already ordered a bath and clothes while we were talking. It should be ready now. A servant…” he started saying, before his eye trailed down to the robe slipping off of Xie Lian’s shoulder. He snapped his gaze up. “ I will show you to the bath,” he finished firmly.

Xie Lian nodded gratefully. “Thank you, San Lang.” The kindness from the ghost king was making him feel particularly bold, so he tentatively continued. “Perhaps after my bath, we could share a meal and continue our discussion?”

Anyone else would have seethed at their potential prisoner/diplomat showing such insolence as to presume to eat a meal together, but Hua Cheng, goodness incarnate that he was, lit up and grinned like he had just received a thousand blessings. “Yes, of course, what a wonderful idea. I’ll tell the staff to prepare something for us.” 

The ghost king’s smile was radiant to the point of being blinding, and Xie Lian felt his heart race and cheeks tingle. Do I still have heart murmurs as a human?! He pondered this, alarmed at such a persistent medical issue.

But before Xie Lian could definitively diagnose himself, Ruoye started to flail and flop around on the bed like a toddler throwing a tantrum, and Xie Lian snapped his head to look at him, horrified to realize that he had momentarily forgotten about his silk companion. “Oh, Ruoye! I’m so sorry, let me untangle you right now!”

As his fingers worked to tug at openings in Ruoye’s knots, worries began to resurface in Xie Lian’s mind. Ruoye was still as small as he was when he was captured by the ghosts. Had he permanently lost his powers to expand? How had that happened? When the ghost children first found Xie Lian, Ruoye was long enough to act as a leash…

However, the moment Ruoye was freed, he stretched into the silk band Xie Lian was so familiar with. Xie Lian couldn’t contain his joy and laughed in amazement. “Ruoye!”

Pleased with his recovery, Ruoye stretched even further and enveloped Xie Lian in an attempt at a hug. Xie Lian laughed even more giddily as his friend gave his shoulders a squeeze. Then, pausing as if taking a moment to think, the silk released his hold and backed away. Before Xie Lian could even mourn the lost embrace, Ruoye wrapped an end around Hua Cheng’s neck and tugged his unsuspecting victim towards his owner, twisting in such a way that the poor ghost king’s face came crashing into the front of Xie Lian’s shoulder as he wrapped around the pair.

Before Xie Lian could even think of the impropriety of the situation, his mind focused on the sensation of the cool nose and lips pressed to his collarbone. He shivered, and that increasingly familiar sensation of his heart skipping multiple beats returned.

Ah, maybe it really isn’t heart murmurs , he reflected, before the weight of such a thought came crashing down on him like a sack of bricks and he remembered what a position he was in.

“Ruoye!” he cried, this time with indignation instead of relief like he had before. “What on earth are you doing?!” 

The ghost king let out a strangled sound from the back of his throat, and Xie Lian immediately worried that Ruoye’s grip was choking the man. Hua Cheng’s hands were firmly planted on the bed on either side of Xie Lian to steady himself, and Xie Lian wondered if the reason his knuckles were so tense and white was because of lack of air. But did ghosts even need air? Xie Lian’s hands flew up to grasp Hua Cheng’s head to pull him away, just in case, and only then did Ruoye loosen up.

Held by Xie Lian’s hands, Crimson Rain’s face once again took on the color of a plum. He gasped like a man who just got saved from drowning. So ghosts do need air… 

Shaking such musings from his head, Xie Lian examined Hua Cheng’s race with concern, tilting it around like a precious vase he was inspecting for cracks. “Are you alright? I’m so sorry about Ruoye, I have no idea what came over him!” He glared at the silk band, who shrunk back like a scolded child. 

Grunting harshly like he had something stuck in his throat, Hua Cheng gently pried Xie Lian’s hands away and turned his head, fixing his eye intently down at his feet on the floor. “No need… no need for apologies. I’m… uh, glad you have such a spirited companion,” he reassured weakly. Then, he paused, and sucked in a breath, turning solemn. “Does… he do that often?”

Xie Lian frantically shook his head. “No, never!”

Shoulders slumping forward, Hua Cheng sighed, appearing very relieved at that answer. “Good, good, that could be very dangerous, having people in your personal space like that…” 

He was right. The average person would likely throw a fit at being manhandled in such a way by a silk band. Once again, Xie Lian felt very grateful for Hua Cheng’s easy-going and kind nature.

“Yes, you’re right, I’ll make sure to tell him never to do that again!”

Hua Cheng spared Ruoye a contemplative glance. “Well… it’s ok if he does it to me. I don’t mind. Just make sure he doesn’t do that with anyone else.”

Hua Cheng was truly too kind! Xie Lian nodded seriously.

And with that, the ghost king stood up from the bed and faced Xie Lian, hand outstretched like a true gentleman. His complexion was finally settling back into its usually paleness, and the corners of his lips were tugged up into a smirk.

“Shall I show you to the bath now? It’s just down the hall, and the water should be ready now.”

This was said in a calm, collected manner that truly was remarkable considering all the events that had just unfolded, but all Xie Lian could focus on was the patient hand waiting for him. He smiled at the sight, and placed his own hand in Hua Cheng’s as he grabbed Ruoye with his other. “That would be lovely. I cannot thank you enough.”

“Nonsense,” Hua Cheng said smoothly, leading Xie Lian out of the room. “It’s the least I can do.”

Xie Lian huffed a laugh. “I think the least you could do would be leaving me to rot in some dungeon, or having me killed on the spot,” he teased.

Pouting, Hua Cheng raised his other hand to his chest as if he had been pierced by an arrow. “Gege, you wound me. Do you really think me so cruel?”

Gege?! 

Well… Xie Lian certainly wasn’t going to complain. The nickname sounded rather nice… He mulled it over in his head, tasting it like a candy whose flavor he was trying to decipher.

The ghost king must have taken this momentary silence as disapproval and frowned. “Ah, that was overly familiar of me… Apologies.”

“No, I like it! It’s only fair that you call me gege if I’m to call you San Lang, hmm? But how are you so sure that I’m older than you?”

Relieved, Hua Cheng grinned. “Gege carries himself with such wisdom and grace, of course he must be older.”

Xie Lian stared off as flashbacks of all the ways he had flopped about as a stoat, gotten himself kidnapped, and failed to control his silk band in the past weeks flooded his mind. He concluded that the ghost king was full of shit, and he chuckled amusedly. 

Finally, they reached a mahogany door with a carving of lotus flowers and water lilies drifting on serene waters. Hua Cheng released his hand, leaving Xie Lian feeling a little empty. 

“Here we are. Please don’t hesitate to ask for anything.” Hua Cheng pressed a metal bell, which must have spawned out of thin air, into his hands. “Just ring this bell if you need something, and someone will gladly bring it to you. You can ring it when you’re ready for your clothes too.”

“Ah, thank you, San Lang. I’ll see you in a bit.”

Not wanting to take up any more of the ghost king’s time, Xie Lian smiled and turned to open the door, stepping inside and letting it close behind him. 

If he hadn’t been so entranced by the lovely decor of the bath that immediately greeted him, Xie Lian would have surely heard the sound of hasty footsteps scrambling away from the other side of the door. 

The room was quiet, save for the gentle peal of wind chimes, fluttering in a breeze that must have been created using spiritual energy, seeing as there were no windows. The bath was a vast pool in the center, large enough to row a boat across. Lotuses and water lilies bobbed up and down as they floated over subdued waves. The scent of jasmine, strong enough to be enjoyed but not overpowering, drifted past his nose. Arranged neatly around the bath was a plethora of oils, soaps, cloths, and combs. It rivaled the opulence of the royal baths of Xianle, perhaps even besting them.

In a daze, Xie Lian shrugged off the robe and walked to the edge of the water, not yet daring to step in. It would be a great shame for the dirt and sweat clinging to his skin to sully such a beautiful bath. Releasing Ruoye from his grasp so that the band could fly about and clean himself as he pleased, Xie Lian dipped one of the spare pieces of cloth into the pool and tried his best to wipe himself off before finally walking in. The water was so hot against his aching feet that he almost froze in shock before sighing and sinking in fully. 

The warmth was like that of bathing in the sun on a summer day, with a refreshing breeze cooling his face. Xie Lian felt like he could melt into a puddle and become one with the pool. He sighed again in bliss, allowing his eyes to fall shut.

However, they quickly snapped open once he remembered how badly he must stink. There was work to be done, after all! He pushed himself to standing and made his way to the bottles and jars. It was hard to tell what the purpose of each was for, so he simply sniffed them, gathered the ones that smelled best, and began to apply them sparingly. He didn’t want to needlessly waste Hua Cheng’s supply, after all. 

Once he had finished scrubbing and lathering himself, he noticed a bowl of rice water. He blinked. It had been ages since he had last had the luxury of rinsing his hair in rice water… what a generous host Crimson Rain was. His heart swelled, and he reached for the bowl.

Finally, he felt he was clean enough to hopefully be presentable to a ghost king, and lifted himself out of the pool. Grabbing a privacy screen placed against the wall, he angled it so that it blocked him from the door, tucked Ruoye away, and rang the bell. The low chimes had barely ceased their echo before a knock came at the door.

“Honored guest, may this one come in briefly to drop off your robes?” asked a soft female voice. 

“Yes, yes, come in!”

The door creaked open, and light steps pattered in quickly. There was a gentle thud as the robes were placed on the table by the privacy screen, and Xie Lian expected her to begin to take her leave. However, there was a small gasp, and Xie Lian began to worry something had happened. But before he could consider peeking around the screen to check on her, he heard a stifled giggle and a swoosh, followed by hurried steps towards the door.

“Ah, thank you! Goodbye!” he called just before the door shut. He scratched his nose. What had all that been about?

Unfortunately, the answer became very obvious once he stepped around the privacy screen to pick up his new clothes. The robe he had discarded by the pool, Hua Cheng ’s outer robe, was glaringly absent. He gaped for a minute at the empty spot where it had laid, and then groaned at his past carelessness. 

What must that servant think, seeing her master’s robe outside my bath like that…

Chapter Text

Trying his best to ignore the mortification rising up his throat, Xie Lian grabbed his new robes and resolved to simply focus on getting dressed.

It took only a glance and a moment’s touch to tell that these robes were unlike any that Xie Lian had worn in centuries. The inner robes, made from the softest and purest white silk, had been folded neatly on the top of the stack and now flowed from Xie Lian’s hands like a waterfall. Even without seeing the outer robe, Xie Lian was amazed. To waste such high-quality silk on someone who was at worst a treacherous intruder, at best an unexpected and likely unwanted guest… Crimson Rain must be extremely hospitable, not to mention obscenely wealthy.

Slipping on that robe after such a warm bath was like standing in cool rainfall. He suppressed a shiver that arose from the contrasting sensation of cold silk against his hot skin. It was a delightful way to cool off and tame the flush that the steam had set upon his cheeks. But as enjoyable as it was to revel in such finery, that tiny voice in the back of Xie Lian’s mind nagged once again. You know you don’t deserve this, how can you accept?

But there were no other clothes for Xie Lian to wear, so he had no option but to accept.

Once the inner robe had been fastened and fit to his body suspiciously well, he turned his attention to the outer robe and was similarly stunned. The material was a white, airy chiffon, flowing like fog in the morning after a chilly night. Embroidered with golden thread and beads, the robe’s patterns depicted delicate flowers on the hem, waist, and chest. 

And again, the chiffon robe fit him like a glove, just like his inner robe had. It was cut exactly to his measurements as if it had been made by the royal seamstresses of Xianle. His old cultivator robes, which he guessed must have been lost somewhere in Jun Wu’s palace when he was transformed, had been too long and required him to bunch up the excess fabric with his belt. He hadn’t been able to bring himself to cut off the extra material back then — what if someday he needed that fabric for scraps?

Now, decked out in robes that seemed to be nicer than the ones Hua Cheng himself usually wore, Xie Lian’s head was really starting to spin. The clothing struck the ideal balance of comfort, functionality, and beauty. The silk inner robe glided across his skin as he moved freely, and not a stitch was out of place to even remotely scratch him. Were these truly just some spare garments that Hua Cheng had lying around for visitors?

Feeling a bit dazed by it all, Xie Lian reached for the white leather boots left for him by the privacy screen. Although it shouldn’t have surprised him at this point, he still couldn’t help but marvel at how the boots were also painstakingly embroidered with the same flowers. As he put them on, he prepared to ring the bell to tell the servant he needed a different size, or to simply go barefoot. But somehow, the boots were miraculously a perfect fit and needed no adjustment. 

He felt like he was in a dream. How on earth had everything been so catered to him? It couldn’t be explained… 

Ah , he thought. There must be some spiritual energy behind it…

This brought to mind the fact that now, with both his shackles broken, he had his own spiritual energy. The matter of his spiritual energy had seemed less pressing during all of the… commotion surrounding his return to being human, but now that he reflected on his newfound freedom he felt simultaneously giddy and guilty. On one hand, it was an incredible relief not to bear the literal weight of his sins. On the other, he hadn’t truly been forgiven and earned his freedom from the shackles. What would Jun Wu think when he learned that the shackles had been undone?

That too was a whole other issue. With his identity revealed, what would Jun Wu even expect him to do now? For some reason, praying hadn’t worked. Was Xie Lian supposed to try again? Was he supposed to go to the mortal realm before praying? That theory made the most sense — the mortal realm was where Jun Wu had dropped him off. Perhaps the heavens truly had no power in the ghostly realm.

But if that was the case, why had Ling Wen and Jun Wu suggested he pray if he ran into trouble? If he was having a hard enough time that he felt compelled to pray and end the mission, how could he be expected to find an exit to Ghost City first when the city was notoriously difficult to leave?

Such mental debates were enough to bring on the beginnings of a headache. Xie Lian sighed as he massaged his brow with his knuckles. There was simply no way of knowing what was going on without asking Jun Wu himself. But even if the truth was impossible to fully know, he couldn’t help the growing suspicion that perhaps this mission was never meant to succeed. That perhaps, as blasphemous as it was to even consider, Jun Wu wasn’t telling him something.

Hmm.

Before he could get even more lost in his thoughts, Xie Lian spotted a flash of white out of the corner of his eye. It was Ruoye, shooting out of the bath like a firecracker and spinning rapidly around in a circle to expel water from himself like a wet dog shaking himself. Xie Lian took cover as he ducked behind the privacy screen to protect his new clothes from getting sprayed.

“Ruoye! You’ve really become so mischievous! And what were you thinking back there, pulling poor San Lang around like that? Don’t think I’ve forgotten!”

Ruoye perked up and floated over to Xie Lian. Suddenly, he wiggled in the air and shaped himself into a heart. 

Xie Lian gasped. A brilliant flush burned across his cheeks. “Ruoye! What is this?!”

Ruoye loosened himself, only to expand and turn into an even bigger heart! It was as if he had taken Xie Lian’s question literally. To make it even clearer, Ruoye circled around Xie Lian, formed a heart, circled around Xie Lian, formed a heart…

Stomping his foot, Xie Lian narrowed his eyes and pointed his finger sternly. “Stop that! You traitor, how did you even know? I barely knew!”

Ruoye merely twirled around, almost teasingly, and Xie Lian put a hand to his head. “Please tell me San Lang couldn’t tell… was I really that obvious?”

Ruoye wiggled again, and Xie Lian groaned. “I don’t know what you mean by that, and I’m not sure I want to.”

Xie Lian turned serious as he reflected. “Besides, it doesn’t matter how I feel. San Lang already has a beloved who he’s completely devoted to. I should be happy he isn’t throwing me out onto the streets.”

Ruoye stopped suddenly, and if he had eyes, his stare would surely be described as blank and disbelieving. But weren’t all of Ruoye stares technically blank, seeing as he was a plain white piece of cloth? Xie Lian shrugged off the thought.

“Ruoye, do you promise to behave yourself from now on?”

The spiritual device turned away avoidantly, and Xie Lian suspected that even if Ruoye had a mouth, he would not have promised.

Xie Lian huffed. “Whatever. Come rest on my arm for now.”

Giving his master a squeeze around the shoulders like the good spiritual device he was, Ruoye flitted up Xie Lian’s sleeve and wrapped himself around his bicep. Unable to resist despite his disapproval, Xie Lian gave him a pat.

“Ruoye, you take advantage of this old man. You know I can’t bring myself to discipline you,” he sighed. Ruoye just gave him another affectionate squeeze.

In hopes of distracting himself from being called out by his sentient silk band, Xie Lian focused on what to do with his hair. Currently, it was wrapped up in a knot, still damp from the shower even after drying it to the best of his abilities. But wouldn’t going to meet a ghost king with a wet head be a sign of disrespect?

Suddenly, he remembered his spiritual powers once again. He really kept forgetting about that! With a smile, he waved some energy over his head and allowed his hair to dry completely. Tugging it free from its bun, he admired the shiny strands that fell over his shoulders and past his waist. His hair hadn’t felt so soft and clean in ages — not a leaf or bug to be found! 

He looked around for a hair pin or ribbon, but there was none. He frowned. Wouldn’t he look a little… unkempt? Well, he supposed the robes were luxurious enough to distract from his hair. And it wasn’t like his loose hair was anything the ghost king hadn’t seen before… and more. Although that was something Xie Lian tried very hard not to dwell on.

Now, fully dressed and dried, there was no reason to keep delaying the inevitable. It wasn’t like Xie Lian to avoid facing his issues head-on, but something about discussing the whole ordeal with San Lang made him apprehensive. What if Hua Cheng came to his senses and was angry? Or worse, hurt and upset?

Taking a deep breath, he vowed to do his best to ease San Lang’s worries. He had no intentions of sharing anything he had learned during his time as a spy, after all, and he would gladly do anything the ghost king asked of him. With steely resolve, he stepped forward and pushed open the door to the hallway, turning in the direction he knew that the dining room was in from his time as a stoat.

When he was a stoat roaming the halls of Paradise Manor, the staff had often observed him. They seemed fascinated by the notion of their Chengzhu taking a pet, and also terrified of the possibility of stepping on said pet. So, they kept a watchful eye out for Xie Lian and gave him a wide berth. 

Now, it almost seemed like nothing had changed. As Xie Lian passed through, servant girls stilled and hushed. Eyes wide and unblinking, they turned to each other with whispers and giggles that seemed too quiet to not be about him. However, not all were quiet enough to avoid his notice.

“That must be the lover that Kai-Ming was talking about… he’s quite beautiful, isn’t he? And such splendid robes… Chengzhu must like him a lot,” one of the female ghosts tittered in much too loud a voice. A couple of her friends swatted at her arms and shushed her, looking nervously over at Xie Lian.

It took all of Xie Lian’s years of training to stop himself from choking on his own spit at such gossip. So the servant girl, Kai-Ming, had already spread the word about Hua Cheng’s robe being in the bath! It had only been, what, half an incense time? How had everyone learned about it so quickly?!

He forced himself to keep walking at a normal pace, and tried to ignore the whisperings about his loose hair that arose as he passed by. Surely nothing good could have been said!

Finally rounding the corner into the dining room, Xie Lian was met with the sound of a loud crash. It seemed a ghost servant had just walked face-first into a wall, and Hua Cheng had a hand on their back between their shoulders, presumably to help them out of their blunder. However, the ghost king made no move to free the ghost and simply stared at Xie Lian’s hair.

Hua Cheng’s voice was a little rough as he spoke. “Ah, hello gege. I hope you enjoyed your bath. Did you… not like the pin that was brought to you?”

Xie Lian frowned confusedly, not expecting such a question. “What pin? I looked for one and couldn’t find any.”

It was Hua Cheng’s turn to frown, but unlike Xie Lian’s, it was one of displeasure. “... I see. It seems I shall have to talk to my staff about carelessly excluding items I specifically asked for —”

“Ah, no need, no need! The staff was very, er, helpful!” Xie Lian piped up, thinking awkwardly back on Hua Cheng’s discarded outer robe on the floor and the whispers in the hallway. “Please, don’t talk to them on my account! Actually, don’t talk to them at all!”

Hoping to change the subject, Xie Lian continued. “Besides,” he said hurriedly, “the bath was absolutely lovely and they brought me such exquisite robes! Really, these are too nice, are you sure you meant to let me borrow these?”

Finally breaking his gaze away from Xie Lian’s hair, Hua Cheng looked down at his robes and immediately broke into a smile. His eye grew so soft, his lips so curved with contentment, that Xie Lian wondered if perhaps the ghost king was an avid fashion admirer. That would make sense, seeing his bold sense of style.

“Ah, you aren’t borrowing them, gege,” Hua Cheng corrected warmly, still studying the clothing framing Xie Lian’s body.

Just as he thought! He really wasn’t supposed to wear these robes. Xie Lian nodded, understanding that there had been a mix up. “Of course, I’ll go —”

“They’re yours. You’re keeping them, not borrowing them.”

Xie Lian felt his jaw drop quite ungracefully. “W-what?”

Appearing very pleased, Hua Cheng’s gentle smile morphed into a kittenish grin as he turned his gaze to Xie Lian’s face. “The robes look too dashing on you for me to give them away to anyone else, gege. You’d be doing me a great service by accepting them.”

A disbelieving laugh bubbled out from Xie Lian before he could swallow it. “San Lang, how am I doing you a service? You’re the one giving me such lavish robes… how can you treat me so well, after everything I’ve done?”

Although he tried to say the last part playfully to match the ghost king’s tone, even to Xie Lian’s own ears it sounded a little hesitant. He fought the urge to wince.

Hua Cheng’s expression turned a little more serious, but he kept a smile on his face even as he yanked back the ghost he still had pressed to the wall and flung them out of the room in such a way that the ghost never faced Xie Lian. A distant “oof” could be heard before the sound of hastily fleeing footsteps.

A thought crossed Xie Lian’s mind. Did he do that to spare me the embarrassment of having another person look at my loose hair? For what seemed to be the millionth time, Xie Lian’s heart swelled at such consideration from the ghost king. Concern for the ghost servant came after.

“Gege, I think we better have a chat. But first, would you like me to find you a hairpin?”

Once again, Hua Cheng’s eye drifted up and intently fixed itself upon the sight of Xie Lian’s hair. Xie Lian flushed, not even wanting to know how messy it must be to cause the ghost king to stare like that. “Ah, that would be appreciated, thank you…”

Still looking at his hair, Hua Cheng nodded and pressed two fingers to his temple momentarily. Then, he gestured towards the table. “Please, take a seat. Someone will bring the pin shortly.”

Xie Lian nodded before looking down at the table for the first time, only to be instantly taken aback. He had been so distracted by Hua Cheng when he entered the room and hadn’t even noticed the feast that was laid out. Dozens of dishes covered the lacquered wood dining table to the point where the table’s design could barely be seen. The sight and smell was enough to make his mouth water and stomach rumble, which were responses that Xie Lian had mostly lost over centuries of never quite having enough to eat.

“Gege, I’m going to the hallway to fetch your hairpin. I’ll be right back. You can have whichever cushion you want, make yourself at home.”

Xie Lian was in too much of a trance staring at the food to wonder about how the hairpin had been delivered so quickly, so he just nodded and seated himself at the nearest cushion, eyes wide as he took in all the different meals. He barely heard Hua Cheng leave and come back.

“Here, gege.”

A golden hairpin, shaped like a butterfly, was placed in front of him on the table. Blinking, Xie Lian slapped a hand to his forehead. 

“San Lang! This is also way too nice for me! Please tell me you aren’t giving me this too?!”

“But gege, it was just something I had laying around! Besides, I don’t wear gold. Silver is my signature look. I have no use for that pin personally.”

If you have no use for it, why do you own it? Xie Lian wondered as he shook his head with fond exasperation. Carefully, still not quite believing he should really take it, he picked up the delicate pin and started to gather his hair until a niggling worry stopped him. What if I do my hair messily, and offend San Lang even more? He’s very forgiving and wouldn’t mention it, but he’d have to sit and look at it for all of the meal…

Sensing his concern, Hua Cheng raised an eyebrow. “Gege? What’s wrong?”

Feeling rather silly for worrying about such a trivial matter, Xie Lian waved his hand dismissively. “Ah, don’t mind me. I was just worried I wouldn’t do a good job since I don’t have a mirror…”

As soon as he said those words, Xie Lian realized that it was very likely that the ghost king would offer to get him a mirror, and he prepared himself to wave off such a concern. But what Hua Cheng offered instead surprised him even more.

“Hmm… would you like me to do it for you?”

Xie Lian couldn’t believe his ears. “What?”

The ghost king’s earnest expression turned sheepish as he turned his head to the side and looked down. “I overstepped, apologies.”

No! Such a remorseful look on Hua Cheng could not be tolerated!

“No, no, it’s not that at all! I was only surprised to hear that you’d be willing to do such a thing! Isn’t that lowering yourself as the ruler of Ghost City?”

Straightening as hope returned to him, Hua Cheng’s eye turned earnest once more as it fixed its gaze back on Xie Lian. “Of course it isn’t. Such a thing could only be an honor for me,” he said with nothing but gentle sincerity.

Heat was starting to rise to Xie Lian’s cheeks. Why did San Lang have to be such a flatterer?!?

He laughed nervously. “Haha… San Lang, you tease…”

Earnestness gave way for mischievousness as a glint sparked in the ghost king’s eye. “It’s no tease, gege. If you’ll allow it, I’d be delighted to do your hair.”

Something in the burning gaze that Hua Cheng casted his way made Xie Lian squirm, although not unpleasantly. His tongue suddenly felt very dry, and all he could do was nod dumbly and hand the pin to Hua Cheng.

With a few sweeping steps, the ghost king knelt behind where Xie Lian was seated. The top half of Xie Lian’s hair was gently gathered like it was something precious, and Xie Lian’s breath hitched in his throat at the sensation of being handled with such care. Hands that Xie Lian knew had wielded weapons that slaughtered gods now swept through the strands of his hair like a paintbrush on a canvas. He was unable to move a muscle, his body fully dedicated to awaiting the next move. Steady fingers smoothed the edges of his hairline, ridding it of any bumps, and tucked away stray hairs, mindful of tugging too hard.

Xie Lian knew it was stupid, but he truly could cry at that moment from the tenderness of it all. He forced himself to take a deep breath instead.

In what could have been an instant or a century, a pin was slowly fastened in the bun Hua Cheng must have made with the top part of Xie Lian’s hair. The ghost king slowly rose from behind him. 

“Done,” he announced quietly. The air felt very still. “I hope you like it.”

Xie Lian couldn’t restrain himself anymore; he sprang up to his feet and whipped around to stare up at Hua Cheng, whose eye turned comically wide. 

“Why?” Xie Lian pleaded, voice trembling as he clenched his shaking hands into fist by his side. “Why are you being so kind to me? I just don’t understand… what have I done to deserve all of this?”

It was getting harder to breathe evenly, but Xie Lian pressed on. “I’ve come to learn that you must be the most honorable man to have existed, but even the most perfect soul wouldn’t treat me like such an esteemed guest after I betrayed them. Why do you hold no anger? Why —”

“Gege, please, don’t work yourself up,” Hua Cheng interrupted, face full of concern for how quickly Xie Lian was talking and breathing. Xie Lian took a few ragged breaths as he stared at Hua Cheng in shock, who in turn only sighed and pinched his nose. 

“You’ve not betrayed me, not in the slightest. Really, I should have made that clear at the start, instead of waiting for this meal,” he said with a frown, huffing at himself. 

“You see, I knew when the Waning Moon Officer announced a gift from the Ghost City residents that there was a high chance of a trap. While the vast majority of my people really do just harmlessly want to give me their trash, there’s been a few attempts at breaching Paradise Manor’s security. Most of the time, it’s from the same people who kidnapped you, those idiotic followers of Night-Touring Green Lantern,” scowled Hua Cheng, appearing rather pissed off at the memory.

“But when I saw you, I sensed no ill intent. If you were someone disguised as a stoat, you seemed unwilling to hurt me. If you were really a stoat acting as some set of eyes for an evil spirit, there was no trace of malicious qi on you. So, I figured you really were just a stoat that had wandered in from the mortal realm and had been picked up by the ghost children. I knew from the start that there was a risk, but I took it anyway.”

Xie Lian had collected himself enough to protest. “But San Lang, that’s hardly a good argument. I still tricked you into thinking I was a real stoat in the end, and that I didn’t have ill intent.”

“But you didn’t have ill intent, did you? That bastard Jun Wu surely did, but you’ve done nothing to intrude on me. I noticed the way you’d leave the room I was studying or holding meetings in. You only stayed when I had you in my arms, or when the door was closed. And as soon as you turned human, you swore up and down about how you wouldn’t reveal any secrets. So really, what have you done wrong? If you didn’t come as a spy, Jun Wu would have just sent someone else. You did your best to follow what you thought was right in difficult circumstances,” Hua Cheng replied calmly. Somehow, despite everything that had happened, his expression remained light. “I could never fault you for that.”

It really was too much… Those words, words he had longed to hear for so long for an entirely different reason, lifted his soul more than Hua Cheng could possibly have known. 

Unsure of what else to do with the gratitude, relief, and love suddenly swirling around inside of him, Xie Lian fell forward and wrapped around the ghost king in a crushing hug. Hua Cheng immediately stiffened, but after Xie Lian showed no sign of letting go, he allowed his own arms to gently encircle Xie Lian for the first time since he’d turned human.

Sniffling despite his best efforts, Xie Lian squeezed his eyes closed to stop any bold tears from escaping. “You are too kind. You deserve nothing but the ultimate happiness. I swear,” he whispered fiercely, “I will do whatever I can to reunite you with your beloved.”

The ghost king’s arms tensed and shifted slightly, but he didn’t let go of his hold on Xie Lian. “Ah… there’s no need,” he said quietly, his tone shockingly content.

Xie Lian frowned and leaned back enough to look at Hua Cheng but not enough to break the embrace. “I really can help, though! Now that my shackles are gone, I’m much more powerful. What is their name? I, uh, wasn’t able to read your writing as a stoat,” Xie Lian admitted with an apologetic smile.

Almost imperceptibly, Hua Cheng’s brow furrowed and his lips pursed. But as quickly as it had happened it had passed, and Xie Lian wondered if he had only imagined it.

“Ah, he… has gone by many different names, I believe.”

What an evasive answer! Xie Lian couldn’t help but chuckle at the ghost king’s timidness. It was easier to laugh than cry at the reminder that Hua Cheng’s heart was taken.

“Oh San Lang, having a beloved is nothing to be embarrassed about. In fact, I think it’s the most admirable thing in the world. Go on, tell me his name! The one he mainly uses, the one that first comes to your mind!”

“...”

The ghost king was starting to look a little constipated, and Xie Lian grew genuinely concerned. Had he really pushed too much? He quickly decided to backtrack.

“Ah, are you perhaps a bit shy? I’m sorry, I’ve really forgotten my manners, it’s completely understandable that you wouldn’t want to share such private matters with someone who's basically a stranger.”

Snapping out of his worries, Hua Cheng shook his head decisively. “Gege, you’re no stranger. I’d be glad to share anything with you… but like you said… I’m very shy,” he concluded. As if to prove his point, the fearsome Crimson Rain Sought Flower, Scourge of the Heavens, lowered his gaze and batted his lashes like a blushing maiden.

It was extremely difficult not to giggle or coo at the display, so Xie Lian stepped back from hugging Hua Cheng and covered his mouth with his sleeve, praying he looked apologetic rather than amused.
“I see,” he said, clearing his throat after his voice shook slightly. “Well, we can talk about something else. But just know that I’m always here to help. Not that I can do much. I’m not, ah, experienced in the least, and I’ve been told I’m rather dense when it comes to matters of the heart.”

Hua Cheng lifted his gaze demurely and Xie Lian could have sworn that the corner of his mouth curled up in the briefest of smirks.

“Thank you, gege. I’m sure gege has unknowingly left quite the trail of broken hearts in his wake. I just wonder how many failed attempts at wooing have gone unnoticed by his lovely gaze…”

Xie Lian’s face had never burned like this before, and he almost thought he could smell smoke from the fire that must be raging in his poor, overworked heart. “San Lang!” he cried. “That’s hardly what I meant! Besides, I really doubt there has been a single person out there interested in me like that. I wasn’t exactly living a glamorous lifestyle before I ascended, you know.”

Hua Cheng’s expression darkened slightly at the last part, and he shook his head. “Nonsense. Even in the dark, even in the dirt, gold is still gold. Those who think otherwise are nothing but fools who miss out on riches,” he said with nothing but the utmost gravity and sincerity.

If Xie Lian’s heart wasn’t in danger of combusting before, it surely was now. Something flickering in that lone, obsidian eye seemed to pierce Xie Lian’s very soul and strip him bare. Frantically, Xie Lian peered around the room for something to talk about instead. Fortunately, the feast that Hua Cheng had prepared was still in front of them, untouched. 

“Haha, S-San Lang, enough of that, let’s eat! The food will grow cold!”

In a hurry, Xie Lian plopped down on a cushion and gestured enthusiastically to the seat across from him. Chucking softly at the behavior, the ghost king acquiesced and moved to sit down. 

“Gege,” he said once he had settled, “what would you like to try first?”

Xie Lian’s eyes immediately went to the steaming pile of baozi. Before he could humbly ask that the dish be passed, three were dropped on his plate. Startled, he looked up to see Hua Cheng’s hand retreating. 

The ghost king was too attentive! Xie Lian’s cheeks would be stuck in a permanent blush, his eyebrows permanently raised, if this continued!

However, Hua Cheng looked so hopeful and eager that Xie Lian could do nothing but smile, bow his head in thanks, and take a bite. And to no surprise, the bun was the most heavenly thing he had tasted in centuries. An appreciative hum slipped out, and Hua Cheng smiled at the noise. 

“Do you like it?”

Xie Lian nodded vigorously while he finished chewing. “It’s delicious! But San Lang, you should eat too! Aren’t you hungry?”

Xie Lian realized it was a silly and possibly insensitive question — after all, ghosts didn’t need to eat. But Hua Cheng just put an elbow down on the table and propped his cheek in his hand with a lazy smile on his face. “On the contrary, gege, I’ve never felt more full. Please, try some more.”

And with that, he began to serve a little bit of every dish, as if wanting Xie Lian to get to experience all of them. Xie Lian was struck dumb for a moment at the rapidly moving hands scooping and placing every sort of food on his plate, before he finally came to his senses and grabbed Hua Cheng’s wrist before the man could slip away again.

“Aiyah, I’ll burst if I eat all of this! San Lang, I know ghosts don’t need to eat, but isn’t it still enjoyable for you? If so, please, eat with me. A meal is best shared, you know.”

Although Hua Cheng’s wide eye temporarily flickered between Xie Lian’s grasp on his wrist and his expression, it finally rested on Xie Lian’s face. Softening, Hua Cheng nodded, and Xie Lian released his wrist with a pleased hum. 

But Xie Lian wasn’t done yet. Now, it was his turn to pick out the best-looking pieces of meat and buns for Hua Cheng. The ghost king opened his mouth to protest as Xie Lian started to place items on his plate, but one stern look from Xie Lian was enough to quickly shut him up. It was rather comical, seeing how obedient Crimson Rain became. Xie Lian couldn’t suppress his grin.

The meal was truthfully more of a game of seeing who could sneak the most food onto the other’s plate, but Xie Lian wouldn’t have had it any other way. Not when such pure joy, joy that even Xueqiu failed to evoke, was displayed on Hua Cheng’s face every time he managed to make Xie Lian laugh at his antics. 

However, it was hard to appreciate the moment fully when in the back of Xie Lian’s mind, he knew it couldn’t last. And although Xie Lian had grown very good at learning to live in the moment and count the small blessings, it seemed that a very greedy part of him, one that he had so carefully tried to eliminate, emerged around Hua Cheng.

He couldn’t help but wish that times like these would never stop, and that he could stay by Hua Cheng’s side. It didn’t have to be romantic, it didn’t have to be reciprocated — just being there to see that radiant smile would be enough. 

The playfulness of the meal had passed, and Hua Cheng seemed to recognize that Xie Lian had grown pensive. And miraculously, he seemed to read Xie Lian’s thoughts.

“Gege,” he ventured slowly, almost hesitantly, “what are you going to do now?”

It was a loaded question that went beyond just what Xie Lian planned to do for the day. Rationally, the thing for Xie Lian to do next would be to return to the heavens. With his shackles released and powers restored, he didn’t need to wait around for Jun Wu to respond. 

But Xie Lian didn’t want to leave. Not only did he not want to return to the heavens, he didn’t want to leave Ghost City, to leave Paradise Manor. 

To leave his San Lang.

Ah , he thought to himself tiredly, when did I get so possessive? 

His inner turmoil must have been obvious, for Hua Cheng spoke again in a softer, more hopeful tone. 

“Well, if gege isn’t sure what he wants to do yet, perhaps I could show him around Paradise Manor? A proper tour, now that you’re back.”

Now that you’re back. Although Hua Cheng had surely meant ‘back to being human,’ something about the wording yanked at Xie Lian’s heartstrings. It felt like something that one would tell a loved one after they had returned home from being gone for a long, long time.

Xie Lian smiled through the sadness. “There’s nothing I would love more.”

Chapter Text

Visiting the gardens in the afternoon was Xie Lian’s custom as a stoat, and when asked by Hua Cheng where he wanted to tour first, the gardens were immediately what came to mind. When he responded with a humble request to begin there, Hua Cheng was all too happy to oblige.

Smiling, the ghost king offered his arm to Xie Lian, who stared at it blankly for a moment. Is he…

Hesitantly, afraid of having misunderstood, Xie Lian placed his hand in the crook of Hua Cheng’s elbow. Hua Cheng’s smile only grew at the contact. “Ok gege, let’s go then.”

So, hand in arm, the two began down a hall leading to the garden. When they first entered the hallway, Xie Lian immediately looked around to see if any servants were about. The last thing he needed was for some giggling maids to make Hua Cheng uncomfortable because of Xie Lian’s mistake! But, fortunately, no one was out. In fact, he had never seen Paradise Manor so empty.

He quietly sighed in relief.

Walking with Hua Cheng felt like walking with an old friend. A companionable silence had descended upon them, allowing them both a moment of respite from the day’s tumultuous start. However, the lack of conversation made it all too easy for Xie Lian to fixate on the firm lower bicep that his hand was currently wrapped around. There was a certain warmth that seemed to radiate from that spot, although such a thing should have been impossible given that Hua Cheng was a ghost. And the sturdy, dependable muscle there was also… distracting. Purely from a martial god’s appreciation for physique, of course!

As if his traitorous fingers had a mind of their own, Xie Lian gave Hua Cheng’s arm a squeeze. The ghost king tensed at the sudden action, his bicep flexing involuntarily. 

Oh… that’s nice.

“Gege? Is everything alright?”

Xie Lian’s runaway thoughts were interrupted, and he immediately was horrified at how improper they had become. “Ah, yes, everything’s fine! I think I just had a hand spasm, haha, sorry!”

Hua Cheng’s budding concern was cut short, and he smiled once more. “Ok, let me know if the spasm persists. Perhaps I can help. But anyways, we’ve arrived.

The gardens were more manageably scaled now that Xie Lian was human-sized, but they still seemed overwhelmingly beautiful and extravagant. Clear paths from each cardinal direction  converged in the center, where there were large fish ponds that split into rivers that ran along the rest of the gardens. The surrounding design was like a pleasant maze, challenging enough to stimulate the mind but not to the point of frustration. Simply put, it was the sort of place that Xie Lian could spend every day admiring and never get tired of.

They took one of the longer, twisting footpaths, which was elegantly patterned with pebbles. Roses and lilies of various reds, whites, yellows, and blues lined the trail. Whenever Xie Lian even so much as slowed down to look at something, Hua Cheng would immediately notice and stop in his step to gently guide Xie Lian to the best viewing spot.  

After a long, leisure stroll, they arrived at the center of the garden. There was much to see according to Hua Cheng, who was trying to steer Xie Lian in various directions. However, Xie Lian had one very specific location in mind. 

“I remember, in the afternoons while I played here as a stoat, you would disappear into a small building. Could we visit that, or is it private? I was always curious as to what you did in there.”

Something flashed in Hua Cheng’s eye, but as quickly as it came it was gone. An easy, practiced expression came to his face. “Nothing’s private, gege. That building is my studio. I find painting and sculpting to be relaxing, and I keep most of my current projects there. The art quality is nothing much — just the product of a pastime.”

“How can you say that? I saw that doodle you drew, it was beautifully done! And you only spent a few moments on it, I can’t imagine how amazing your more serious projects must be. I’d love to see them, if you’re willing to share.”

That easy expression was starting to look just the slightest bit strained, but Hua Cheng’s voice remained gentle. “Of course you can see it. But really, I’m afraid my art will only disappoint you. I don’t think I’ve truly mastered realism or achieved anything special.”

“Now you’re just spouting nonsense. Something that you dedicate such time and care to can only be special.”

As soon as he heard himself say these exceedingly honest words, Xie Lian felt his face heat up. He really had no filter sometimes and said the most embarrassingly earnest things! 

But the ghost king didn’t seem to mind at all, and that strained expression softened considerably. “Well, if it would make gege happy, then we’ll go to the studio,” Hua Cheng acquiesced. 

True to his word, he began to lead Xie Lian to the studio, and they stopped at a nondescript statue of a woman holding a platter by the door. It was a curious feature that Xie Lian hadn’t noticed before, but Hua Cheng didn’t offer an explanation — he simply reached into his pocket, drew out his dice, and rolled them onto the tray. 

Surprisingly, he rolled snake eyes, which caused Xie Lian to raise a brow. From what he had heard and observed, the ghost king had astonishingly good luck. Such a thing was a necessity to run a gambling establishment as successfully as Hua Cheng had. So how had he managed to roll Xie Lian’s signature snake eyes?

Xie Lian’s pondering was interrupted as the door slowly swung open. Hua Cheng stepped in assuredly, and Xie Lian could only follow.

With no windows, the studio was lit only by lanterns, generously placed throughout the different workstations. The room was much larger than it had appeared from outside, and displayed at least a dozen paintings.

Each painting seemed to depict a unique natural landscape. Some were of autumnal forests made golden from gingko trees, others were of hills studded with budding flowers in the spring. Snowy cities, vibrant green canopies — each piece of art was the perfect representation of the best that the seasons had to offer. Other paintings featured the ocean in different states of unrest and calm, the moon and the stars, the sun in the sky…

“Oh, San Lang, these are absolutely enchanting,” Xie Lian breathed, his eyes flickering over all of the works, trying to drink in every brushstroke. “I feel like I could just walk into each of these paintings and find myself in a beautiful world.”

Hua Cheng laughed. “Gege is too kind — he flatters me,” he said with a smile. “But thank you.”

Xie Lian just shook his head. “It’s not flattery at all! I’m being completely honest. You have incredible talent. Let me go see each up close.”

And so, Xie Lian broke away from the ghost king and stepped forward to examine each painting. Even more details seemed to appear as he got closer. Sometimes, a tiny figure or two were in the background, barely distinguishable. It gave the nature in the paintings a sense of vastness, which Xie Lian appreciated. The world was an awfully large place to wander, after all.

Many of the landscapes looked familiar, like places Xie Lian had passed through during his time roving the mortal realm. But the ghost king was likely well-travelled, so it was nothing to dwell on… that is, until he came upon a particular painting at the back of the room.

To anyone else, the painting would have looked just like the others. It was of a red maple grove, with a cleared path leading to a distant spring in the background. It could easily be dismissed as just another depiction of natural beauty, but curiosity began to twist in the back of Xie Lian’s mind as he noticed certain details.

Wasn’t that awfully similar to one of the offshoot paths from the Royal Holy Pavilion on Mount Taicang?

His eyes scanned the painting, searching for some concrete evidence. But before he could find anything, a hand landed gently on his shoulder.

“Would gege like to see some sculptures?”

Brought out of his trance, Xie Lian looked behind. The ghost king was smiling, but there almost seemed to be a certain nervousness underlying it.

Hmm.

It would be poor manners to insist on looking at the painting longer, so Xie Lian tucked the thought away for the time being. After all, his memories of Mount Taicang’s former glory were quickly fading, as overgrown as the paths surrounding the Royal Holy Pavilion. 

“Ah, yes, I’d love to see your sculptures! Please, lead the way.”

Xie Lian followed Hua Cheng to a long table hosting an assortment of figurines. Some were of butterflies on branches, others were of intricate swords… but what Xie Lian liked most of all were the delicate ones of flowers. Those sculptures seemed so tenderly and meticulously crafted — each individual petal was a testament to Hua Cheng’s precise skill. 

And now that he was in a nostalgic mood after seeing that painting which so closely resembled the outskirts of the Royal Holy Pavilion, the flower seemed familiar too.

Xie Lian breathed out softly as he placed a hand on the table a careful distance away from the art work, still gazing at the flower. “You know… you’re truly incredible, San Lang. Everyone regards you as this fearsome ghost king, but look at the beauty you create in this world.”

There was a pause, and a long inhale could be heard from Hua Cheng. “... That’s very nice of you to say, gege. But… I’m not… as good as you think. I was born as a curse to others. My very existence has brought many people great suffering. As a Calamity, I’ve done things others deem wicked. I can be angry, vengeful, obsessive, impatient. I’m afraid I’ll disappoint you, if you think of me so highly.”

Hua Cheng’s tone was steady as he listed his flaws, but there was a thread of fragility to it. He had never sounded so vulnerable, and so hesitant. It was spoken as if he was a child confessing to a crime, terrified of the judgement he would receive. 

Xie Lian turned around from the table to look at him. Like this, they were nearly face-to-face.

“San Lang,” Xie Lian said slowly, “I’ve brought people much suffering too. Not by the nature of my existence, but by the choices I’ve consciously made. People I loved have died trying to help me fix mistakes caused by my own self-righteousness. So how could I ever judge you for things outside your control, when I’ve misused my own will so often?”

Xie Lian swallowed back the sadness rising in his throat, and continued.

“I have met many people. I have talked to both gods and beggars, heroes and villains. But I have never met anyone like you. You have been nothing but wonderful to me. You have a strong sense of justice, you’ve built a whole city caring for the lowly, you stay true to your heart — what could I possibly find fault with? I like what I like, regardless of what others say or think. And I like you. So there’s no need to worry about me changing my mind. I already know about your actions as a ghost king and I’m telling you: I like you.”

Although Xie Lian felt extremely serious while saying this, watching Hua Cheng’s eye grow wide and impossibly wider made Xie Lian a little uneasy. Had it been too much? 

Hua Cheng just stared. And stared. Unblinking. Xie Lian fought the urge to slap a hand over his face. He really did have a penchant for saying the most awkward things! But it was true and important, so how could he lie by saying otherwise or apologizing?

“Gege,” Hua Cheng breathed finally. “I…”

But the man was unable to respond further, stupefied. After a moment of consideration, Xie Lian smiled understandingly — after all, he too was shy about receiving compliments — and gave him a pat on the shoulder. 

“Let’s continue the tour, hmm?” he offered.

Hua Cheng nodded dumbly, and turned around to lead Xie Lian out the studio. But before they stepped out of the door, Xie Lian noticed something by the door. He gasped.

“San Lang!! Is that a sculpture of me?!”

The ghost king whipped around immediately, fear written all over his face. “What?” he asked, voice shaking slightly. 

But once his eye landed on the statue, he immediately sighed in relief. It was a life-size sculpture of Xueqiu in all of his stoat glory.

“Ah, yes,” he said, huffing breathily. His tone evened out, and a smirk appeared on his face once more. “You were too cute not to sculpt, you know. Your little paws, that adorable button nose…”

Xie Lian flushed at the teasing that seemed to come so naturally to the ghost king. “Ahaha… well, it’s very finely crafted! Truly exceptional! We best keep moving though!” 

And with that, Xie Lian rushed out of the studio in a tizzy. Hua Cheng chuckled before following.

*

*

*

After a long tour of Paradise Manor, made even longer by Xie Lian’s eager inspection of every weapon in the armory, the two settled back down in the dining room for an evening meal. 

“San Lang, your house is truly extraordinary! The gardens, the library, the armory… I loved it all!”

Looking extremely pleased, Hua Cheng rested his chin in his hand and gazed at Xie Lian with a delighted smile. “I’m glad to hear that. The armory really is yours, by the way.”

The ghost king had offered the entire armament collection to Xie Lian once he had noticed the way Xie Lian fluttered around the swords like an excited hummingbird tasting every nearby flower. Of course, Xie Lian had dismissed the offer, thinking it to be nothing more than a tease, but now he was doubting that assessment. Still, he just brushed it off with a friendly laugh. How could he accept such a thing?

“Oh San Lang, as much as I love it, there’s no way I could maintain it,” he smiled. Then he sighed as a pesky thought came back to him. “After all, I’ll have to go back to the heavens at some point.”

Hua Cheng’s smile flattened into something a little less happy. “Hmm. Well, if that’s the case, gege is always welcome back. If you’d ever like to visit, just roll these dice, and I’ll come pick you up.”

As he spoke, Hua Cheng produced a pair of jade dice and handed them to Xie Lian. They truly were of a fine quality, and Xie Lian stared at them appreciatively before looking up at Hua Cheng with a large smile. 

“Thank you, San Lang. That means so much to me.”

Nothing more was said on the topic, as the food was shortly brought in. The servant carrying it would only stare down at the floor, not daring to look in Xie Lian’s direction. Using his eight arms, he placed the various trays on the table, bowed so low that his scalp brushed against the floor, and scurried out of the dining hall. Xie Lian watched, wondering about how strict ghost rules must be for proper servant manners.

Again, the food was as diverse as it was delicious. And again, Hua Cheng and Xie Lian fell into their previous game of piling food on each other’s plates, competing to see who could sneak the most on without the other noticing. And again, the meal was the nicest Xie Lian had experienced in a long, long time.

He was just about ready to declare himself too full to move when Hua Cheng straightened abruptly and raised two fingers to his temple. Instantly, his relaxed, playful expression turned into a deep scowl as he looked away from Xie Lian and out the window instead.

“What is it, San Lang?”

Hua Cheng let out a growl-like huff, still staring outside. “I’ve just received word that they’ve caught more of Night-Touring Green Lantern’s men hiding in the periphery of Ghost City. I think they’re guarding the ashes of the bastards who kidnapped you. It’ll be easy to kill them, but I wanted to do some interrogating first.”

Xie Lian simply nodded in response. He felt a bit sorry for the ghosts that had kidnapped him, but it wasn’t really his place to request that San Lang free them. And more importantly, they had tried to bait the ghost king into a trap. Endangering San Lang was unforgivable.

With another sigh, Hua Cheng stood. “Gege, I’m very sorry but I should probably oversee the interrogation. Night-Touring Green Lantern is a slippery nuisance, and I don’t like that his men were targeting you. I should be done in about a shichen.”

And then, the ghost king paused and turned hesitant as he faced Xie Lian. “Will gege still be here when I return?”

If anyone else had asked, Xie Lian would have taken this as a polite way of asking him to leave. There had been many villages and towns in which he had overstayed his welcome, after all. But judging by the way his eye shone like a lone star, Hua Cheng seemed to be truly hopeful that Xie Lian would stay.

So, of course Xie Lian would stay. Heart brimming with fondness, Xie Lian smiled. “I’ll be here, as long as you’ll have me.”

Hopefulness gave way to surprise as Hua Cheng registered those words, but he quickly recovered and grinned. “That’s a dangerous thing to say, gege. What if I want to have you forever?”

Xie Lian laughed at such playful insincerity. “I don’t think keeping me as a pet human will be as fun as keeping me as a pet stoat was,” he teased back. 

Hua Cheng suddenly looked affronted, as if memories of keeping Xie Lian as a pet came flooding back. “That’s not what I meant! Gege is not a pet, I’m sorry that I —” 

Seeing such a panicked expression on the ghost king only made Xie Lian laugh harder as he interrupted. “I know, I know, I’m just being silly. But seriously, you should go. I’ll be here, waiting for you.”

Mood shifting quickly like a storm clearing into a beautiful rainbow, Hua Cheng’s eye curved into a crescent as a wide smile stretched into his cheeks. “Well, I pray not to keep you waiting too long. Feel free to continue exploring the manor while I’m gone.”

Xie Lian nodded. After a few more moments of smiling at each other, Xie Lian laughed again. “San Lang, go! I don’t want to make you late.”

The ghost king continued to smile broadly as he stood up and bowed. “Alright, gege, I’ll really go now.” 

And with that, he was gone in a puff of smoke.

If there was a wistful edge to Hua Cheng’s voice before he left, Xie Lian didn’t notice it. Now alone, he was too caught up in his own thoughts. Maybe it was reckless of him to say that he would stay for as long as Hua Cheng would have him. Maybe at some point, his presence would become a burden upon the ghost king. And if he was gone for too long, there definitely would come a day where Jun Wu or Ling Wen would find some way to contact him…

He groaned as these issues swirled around inside his head like nettlesome spirits. He was starting to feel restless just sitting at the dining room table and ruminating, so he pushed himself to stand. Perhaps he should take Hua Cheng up on his offer and explore the manor on his own in order to clear his mind. 

The idea of exploring brought to mind that interesting painting in the studio. It really bore such a striking resemblance to Mount Taicang. Maybe if he could take a longer look at it, he would recognize more features. 

But Hua Cheng had almost seemed to steer him away from looking at it. Would it be invasive of him to go back for another peek? The ghost king had said he could explore, and that nothing was private…

Ah, I’m surely overthinking it!  

Right then and there, Xie Lian decided to go back to the studio. He felt around in his pocket until his hand landed upon the jade dice he had been given. Hopefully they would work just as well for opening the door like Hua Cheng had. 

As he walked through the manor towards the garden, he could have sworn he felt eyes on him. Stifling a groan, he tried his best not to look around for the ghostly servants that were almost certainly observing him. Still, when an especially bold ghost popped their head out from behind a doorway, Xie Lian couldn’t help but give an awkward laugh of acknowledgement. As if somehow shocked that they were caught, the ghost gasped and quickly retreated. Xie Lian sighed. I’ve really become the hot topic for gossip, huh…

With a shake of his head, he pressed on and stepped into the garden. Ghost City was becoming dark as evening fell, and lanterns along every trail had been lit throughout the garden. Watching the candle flames flicker behind the red and white paper as he passed, he chose to take the same winding path he had walked with Hua Cheng earlier. There was no rush, after all.

He stopped at every flower he had seen with Hua Cheng, and looked upon every tree with a sense of peacefulness. Surrounded by flora as lovely as that of old Xianle, it was like his most treasured memories were coming back to life. A morning spent as a child playing in the royal gardens, an afternoon tea with his mother in the gazebo, a nighttime excursion to practice his sword-fighting among the trees…

There was a time in his life when these memories would have only brought pain and longing. But in this moment, he felt only gratitude to have experienced such lovely things.

He passed on and tried to pick up the pace. He had already spent an incense time or two just admiring the sights, and at this rate he wouldn’t be done looking at the painting in time to greet Hua Cheng the moment he returned.

Walking more purposefully, he finally came upon the center of the garden. More lanterns brightened the area, and the path to the studio became clear.

At night, the white flowers outside the studio seemed to glow. He smiled as he walked up to the display, and turned his attention to the statue holding the tray outside the door.

San Lang had rolled snake eyes to get in, right? That should be easy enough for Xie Lian!

Closing his eyes for luck (or lack of it), Xie Lian shook the jade dice and let them fall onto the tray. He heard something rumble in front of him, but when he opened his eyes to look at his roll, he did a double take. And then a third. And when he was certain that his eyes were not deceiving him, he gasped. Somehow, he had rolled double sixes!

Such a feat was unthinkable given Xie Lian’s disastrous luck, but maybe now that both shackles were broken, his luck was returning? However, double sixes was not the dice roll outcome that he needed, so maybe his bad luck was still around? It was a complicated matter, and Xie Lian sighed, unsure whether to laugh in triumph at such a high roll or cry at not getting snake eyes the one time he needed them.

He was about to pick up the dice to roll again, but to his surprise, the door slowly began to open. Eyes wide, he stepped forward and caught it in case the door somehow changed its mind. Feeling successful, he slipped in.

As soon as he entered, Xie Lian wondered if he had made a mistake. The room was pitch black, and even the faint light coming in from outside the cracked door didn’t illuminate anything. 

I guess I really do need snake eyes , he thought to himself. He turned around to catch the door before it closed, but it was too late. 

Somehow, the door had shut and then completely disappeared!

Rather befuddled and a tad concerned, Xie Lian started debating his options. Was he stuck? If so, he had no choice but to wait until San Lang returned and hopefully started looking for him. But what if there was another way to exit the studio? Maybe he could save San Lang the hassle and find his own way out. If only it wasn’t so dark…

Ah, I have spiritual powers again!

With a pleased hum, Xie Lian focused his energy into making a few light orbs. But as soon as they manifested and his eyes adjusted, his heart dropped to his stomach and he nearly fainted in shock at what he saw before him.

A sea of statues bearing his exact likeness were posed around him, each capturing a unique, elegant form.

He was unable to summon a single thought — it was like his brain was filled with the whining of cicadas. All he could manage to do was stare, as a pressure started to build inside his head. 

One Xie Lian was floating on a sculpted cloud, hanging a star in the sky. Another was sitting on the ground in humbleattire, laughing with delight. Another was wielding a sword defiantly at the viewer, eyes narrowed in determination. Another was…

Oh my.

Seeing a statue of himself like that was enough to scare away the cicadas from Xie Lian’s brain and get it working again. His jaw dropped so quickly, he felt it might have come unhinged. Eyes wide and cheeks burning, he tore his gaze away from that scandalous sculpture, only to have it land upon yet another figurine of himself. This one, thankfully, was much more modest, standing tall and only a few paces away. Stumbling over his own feet in a daze, he approached.

He stared right back at himself.

Xie Lian hadn’t seen a proper mirror in a long, long time. Xie Lian hardly knew what he looked like anymore. Xie Lian wasn’t beautiful. Xie Lian was prone to thinking too highly of himself — that was what had caused his kingdom to fall. Xie Lian was nobody’s beloved. Xie Lian could be delusional sometimes, overly hopeful and optimistic. Xie Lian wasn’t —

But that marble face continued to stare.

How?

All other thoughts quieted to make space for that single word. How?

His legs felt like they might as well be made of jelly. Shakily, he took a step back and rubbed his eyes as hard as he could. But even when he looked up again, that statue graced him with that same small, earnest smile.

How could he know me? How could he care?

A strange thing was happening to him. As much as his mind felt cold and heavy with questions, his heart felt warm and inconceivably light. 

Trying to gather himself, he whipped his head around the room to look more. There were dozens of statues, some finished and others still in progress. Feeling like a ghost, he drifted around each.

It was like each statue was more lovingly and painstakingly created than the last. 

Finally, he came to a wall of darkness. Even with the balls of light he had summoned, nothing past that point could be illuminated.

But the darkness seemed to call to him, radiating some intent that he was unable to identify. He couldn’t look away

 As if pulled by some imaginary power, he reached forward blindly until his entire arm was engulfed by warm nothingness.

In the void, he felt something cool and smooth to the touch. He grabbed it without a second thought.

And as he pulled his hand back, a smiling white mask came with it.

The mask fell to the ground with a thud.

*

*

*

Hua Cheng had just finished kicking one of Qi Rong’s minions into a crater in the dirt when he felt a pull on his core — it seemed that Dianxia had rolled his dice.

Immediately, his thoughts went to the darkest places. What if something had happened while Hua Cheng had been gone? What if those piece-of-shit ghosts had somehow escaped his dungeon? What if Dianxia was in trouble, and needed him, and he wasn’t there?

Without a moment’s delay, Hua Cheng looked at Yin Yu, gave a curt nod, and disappeared. 

But when he materialized where the dice had been rolled, right in front of the studio, his thoughts went in an entirely different direction than they had before.

Oh god.

To his horror, two jade dice sat primly atop the platter, proudly presenting double sixes.

No, no, no.

Insecurities and frantic questions flooded his mind, racing around like hornets that had been shaken in a jar. Screaming hornets, ones that stung over and over again.

E-Ming began to tremble uncontrollably at his hip. Hua Cheng didn’t even bother to hit it to make it stop.

How much had Dianxia seen? How much did he know?

Where was he now?

Before he lost his nerve and completely spiralled out of control, Hua Cheng yanked the door open. And just as he had feared, he was met with the sight of balls of spiritual energy casting light over shadow, revealing the secrets of the room to the person standing inside. The only person who ever mattered, who was now facing away from him, staring down at something on the ground.

“Gege?” 

God, he hated how he sounded. Like a foolish child, scared of the dark and calling out for comfort. 

Pathetic, he thought bitterly, his wide eye becoming dull. And now he knows.

He dropped his gaze down at his feet, unable to brave whatever expression Xie Lian had made when he turned around. He heard footsteps rushing towards him, towards the door. He didn’t look up.

I bet he’s making his escape now . 

Hua Cheng felt utterly wretched. He thought of the little stoat who had slipped into his city and into his heart, who stayed even when the gate was open for him to leave. He thought of the tumultuous anguish he had felt when he realized that it wasn’t just Dianxia who possessed all his love, but also Xueqiu. He thought of how a furry face had nuzzled against his jaw when he was sad. He thought of how a beautiful face, the most beautiful face, had suddenly appeared before him, a god restored to their full glory. He thought of his god letting him style his hair, like he had fully trusted someone as lowly and depraved as hua Cheng. He thought of his beloved laughing and playing with him, just like he had done in Hua Cheng’s most cherished dreams.

He thought of how all of that was over.

He was about to summon the bleak remains of his courage to tell Xie Lian that he didn’t have to run, that Hua Cheng would willingly let him go, when all of a sudden a powerful force sent him toppling back from the doorway and crashing into the flowers outside of the studio.

Blinking from the impact, he briefly wondered if Xie Lian had thrown a punch at him. It would have been deserved, and he would treasure that final contact forever. But a familiar weight draped on top of him quickly dispelled that theory. As he finally ventured a glance down at his beloved, he was met with two golden eyes peering up at him, misty from unshed tears. His beloved’s lips, perfect as rose petals, were parted in disbelief.

“Wu Ming?”

Chapter Text

“Your Highness,” Hua Cheng breathed, still knocked flat on his back and looking down at the face of his god on top of him, trying to make sense of that searching gaze piercing through him. But at the address, Xie Lian’s eyes only widened, his mouth trembling as he choked on emotion. Trying to swallow and failing to do so, Xie Lian finally managed to speak.

“Wu Ming, Hua Cheng, San Lang , it’s you, it is you, isn’t it? Tell me it’s you, tell me that you’re okay, that you’ve made it out of that nightmare at Lang-Er Bay in one piece and that I’m not crazy.” 

Xie Lian pleaded similarly to how he wept — rarely but with abandon, unafraid to fully reveal his emotions and ignore his shame, unafraid to be human. The way Xie Lian stared Hua Cheng made the ghost feel like his body had gone translucent and his very soul was on display. A soul that belonged entirely to Xie Lian, a soul that would never allow Hua Cheng to even consider turning away. And so, he nodded. 

“It’s me, Your Highness. I’m okay. You’re not crazy. You were never crazy.”

Hua Cheng numbly wondered what would come next, what reaction his words would bring.

Xie Lian let out a hard exhale, like he was dispelling a spirit that had lived inside of his chest for a long, long time. His head sagged back down, his cheek landing on Hua Cheng’s collarbone with a thud, and the ghost king instinctively brought a reassuring hand to Xie Lian’s back. A shudder reverberated from Xie Lian’s spine into Hua Cheng’s fingertips.

“It’s okay, Your Highness. I’m okay. You’re okay.”

The shudder grew into a single sob. “I… called you such a horrible name, and I killed you, twice … how could you —”

Hua Cheng loathed to interrupt his god, but some things needed to be corrected immediately. “Your Highness, you can call me whatever you like, and you didn’t kill me. A war beyond your control killed me, a war you tried so desperately to stop, you did everything in your power, you did everything perfectly —”

“No! When I was White No-Face, I was the one who decided to unleash the vengeful spirits, I was the one who failed to stop you from taking the sword!” Xie Lian cried out, tears now streaming freely down his face. “It was me! I killed you! Don’t spare me from blame, from taking responsibility!”

The anguish carved into Xie Lian’s features was something Hua Cheng would do anything in his power to smooth away. To see his beloved in pain, so undeserved and because of him no less, was unbearable.

“No Your Highness, don’t do this to yourself please. The choice was mine, and I would do it again, as many times as I needed to.”

“Why?!”

Such a simple question, but it hung heavy in the air, dense and inescapable. What to even say? Hua Cheng could answer in many different ways — he could say that Xie Lian saved him as a child from a painful, cursed death, that Xie Lian gave him a reason to continue on, that Xie Lian was the only one who ever believed in him. But these were all things that Xie Lian had done for Hua Cheng, and the truth behind Hua Cheng’s existence went far beyond whatever favors Xie Lian had performed in his mortal life. It was not a matter of what Xie Lian had done, but of who he was at his core.

And so, Hua Cheng spoke truthfully.

“Because I love you, Dianxia. I have loved you since I first saw you and heard your voice. I love you when you’re shining, when you’re grieving, when you’re simply at rest. There is nothing you could say or do that would make me stop, for it is your soul, you , that I love… do you understand?” 

Although Hua Cheng tried to speak gently and in an even tone, his voice betrayed him at the end and collapsed into a raspy, shaky whisper. It is a difficult thing, to bear the inner workings of your heart when it might not be wanted, when it might be best left ignored. But if the truth was to be revealed, then Hua Cheng needed to make sure it was done correctly. If his words didn’t make sense to Dianxia, he would try again, would create a new vocabulary that conveyed what he meant. Anything and everything.

But it seemed no more words were needed — Xie Lian whipped his head up from Hua Cheng’s chest to meet his eye. And before Hua Cheng could even begin to analyze the emotions painted across his god’s face, hands shot up to cradle the side of Hua Cheng’s face and the distance between them closed completely.

Lips, soft and warm and dewy from having been anxiously bitten, chastely pressed against his own, and Hua Cheng felt like a part of his very being, one that he always knew was missing but never dared to hope would ever arrive, fell into place. 

It ended entirely too quickly. Xie Lian pulled back ever so slightly, eyes shyly downcast, the space between them small enough for them to share the same breath. Hua Cheng had barely begun to mourn the loss when those lips were on his again, and again, and again, attacking him with sweet pecks, each one accompanied by a tiny huff.

Hua Cheng, cheeks squished by Xie Lian’s palms as he received kiss after kiss, began to wonder if he had somehow been dispersed without noticing when Xie Lian crashed into him and had been blessed with a divine hallucination as his soul returned to the universe. All he could do was stare in awe as his beloved blushed furiously, eyes squeezed shut and lips puckered to deliver seemingly endless smooches.

After dozens of frenzied kisses, Xie Lian slowed down his attack and hesitantly opened one eye and peeked at the man laying beneath him. What he saw must have embarrassed him even further, and he groaned, removing one of his hands from cupping Hua Cheng’s face in order to shield his own. 

Although his eyes were covered by his hand, the god’s fluster was evident enough from the flush that traveled down his neck and disappeared in the luxurious robes that had been gifted from Hua Cheng.

“San Lang, I’m sorry… I don’t know how to kiss properly, I thought I could make up for it just by giving lots of little kisses…”

Struck dumb with disbelief, jaw clicking from having dropped so suddenly, Hua Cheng stared. And stared. And stared. 

Before he could even think of words to say, an all-encompassing wave of fondness, love, adoration, and devotion crashed over him, and he burst into laughter so hard that he thought his ribs might break from the force of it. Let them!

Xie Lian’s hand fell from his face as he stared at Hua Cheng in shock. “San Lang! You’re laughing at me!”

Hua Cheng could only throw his head back to laugh even harder, his shoulders shaking tremendously with utter glee. “No, Dianxia, I’m not! I’m just so happy right now that I’m overflowing with joy, ah, I love you so much.”

And with that, Hua Cheng brought his hands up to tenderly grasp Xie Lian’s face and began planting kisses of his own wherever he could — on his lips, his jaw, his nose, his cheeks, his eyelids, his ears. Xie Lian began to squirm under all of the attention, softly protesting as his cheeks grew heated but making no real effort to get away.

“San Lang,” he whispered after a while, his breath a little ragged from Hua Cheng’s relentless pecks. “I didn’t say it out loud, but I love you too. It was impossible not to fall for you as Hua Cheng, and knowing now that you were there as Wu Ming, that you saw me at my worst and continued to search for me, how could I be any more blessed?”

Surely Hua Cheng’s soul was about to arrive at the sea of other lost souls swirling around in the center of the universe to be consumed to provide energy for new life. There was no other explanation for the words that left Xie Lian’s lips, for the ardent light in Xie Lian’s eyes. But Hua Cheng didn’t believe in fate controlled by some incorporeal universe — he believed in Xie Lian. And so, he stopped and looked Xie Lian straight in the eye, unable and unwilling to hold back anymore.

“Can I kiss you, beloved?”

Xie Lian’s eyes widened at the address, and then softened into playful crescents as a grin spread over his face. “Haven’t you already been doing that?”

Hua Cheng grinned as well before lowering his voice. “ Properly kiss you, as you so wisely put it, beloved.”

That was enough to make Xie Lian flush anew, somehow turning an even more brilliant shade of crimson. Hua Cheng rather liked seeing his beloved in his color. 

“Ah, of - of course… beloved, ” muttered Xie Lian quietly. 

Not quietly enough, for at hearing that loving term incomprehensibly, impossibly directed at himself, Hua Cheng flipped them around so that Xie Lian was the one lying on his back in the flowers instead and descended upon the prince’s mouth with eight hundred years’ worth of passion.

It was not until it started to rain that the couple reluctantly stood up from their spot among the flowers. At the first drop of water, Hua Cheng considered pulling away from the lengthy kiss so that he could usher Xie Lian inside, but before he could do so he found himself drawn even closer by strong hands grasping his collar. How could he refuse such a clear, nonverbal command from His Highness? He stayed right where he was, only shifting slightly to better shield Xie Lian from the rain.

But the rain only intensified, and soon Xie Lian was shivering not from emotion but from a genuine chill. When he noticed this, Hua Cheng added the weather to his list of enemies for harming his god. But that was a revenge mission for later — for now, he stood up, drew out his umbrella, and quickly guided Xie Lian inside. Although Hua Cheng only offered his god his hand out of fear that the rest of him was too cold and wet for Xie Lian to lean on, Xie Lian seemed not to mind at all and pulled his arm in to hug as they walked.

Now well into the evening, Paradise Manor was illuminated solely by lamplight. A few servants had come out to tend to the oil, but upon seeing their Chengzhu, drenched in rainwater and with his lover almost literally hanging off his arm, they decided to quickly abandon their task and return later.

Xie Lian watched them scurry away, even more mortified now that he could no longer honestly refute their assumptions about him. And then, he thought of something tragic.

“San Lang, I completely ruined the beautiful robes you gave me by rolling around in the dirt!”

Hua Cheng laughed. “It’s not a problem at all gege. I have many more robes to give you.”

As soon as he said this, Hua Cheng realized his mistake, but it was too late — Xie Lian’s eyes were already peering up at him, narrowing in thought.

“Does that mean you really did make these robes specifically for me? And that you made multiple ?”

An image of the room full of clothing, accessories, and jewelry that Hua Cheng had designed for Xie Lian came to mind. 

“No comment,” the ghost king said simply.

Chuckling fondly, Xie Lian just squeezed his arm tighter. “Well, if it was the case that San Lang had found clothes just for me, I would tell him thank you.”

Then, Xie Lian’s expression turned contemplative. “Perhaps I can still get the dirt out of these robes though… San Lang, can you check to see how muddy the back got?”

Ever dutiful, Hua Cheng nodded and looked at Xie Lian’s back. He nearly choked on his spit. 

Mud had stuck to the robes where Xie Lian’s body had pressed into the ground, leaving a rough, dirty shadow that clung to his form. In an instant, Hua Cheng’s outer robe was wrapped around him, shielding that area from view.

Xie Lian blinked, staring at Hua Cheng’s now exposed inner robe as he released his hold on Hua Cheng’s arm. “Why’d you do that, San Lang?”

Hua Cheng quickly tried to think of an excuse that would avoid making Xie Lian self-conscious, but there was none: he couldn’t pretend that he had given Xie Lian his robe in order to warm him up, seeing that Hua Cheng’s robe was soaking wet from the rain and likely didn’t provide any comfort. At a loss, Hua Cheng simply smiled in what he hoped was a natural manner and opted to give a vague but truthful response. “It seems gege’s robe did get a bit muddy. Why not wear mine for a bit?”

This seemed to amuse Xie Lian, who looked at Hua Cheng with tender regard. “You know, I’ve worn muddy robes before. Really, you should keep your robe.”

Hua Cheng’s smile grew more strained. “No, no, gege, I insist — take the robe.”

Laughing, Xie Lian pulled the robe over his shoulder more tightly and grabbed Hua Cheng’s arm once more. “Fine, fine. How can I refuse my San Lang?”

Being referred to as ‘ my San Lang’ was enough to dispel any pesky thoughts from Hua Cheng’s head: he immediately used his free arm, the one that Xie Lian wasn’t hugging like a precious doll, and pulled his beloved into a tight embrace. 

“Gege can refuse this one anything, and he still will always be your San Lang, for as long as you want.”

Holding him just as fiercely, Xie Lian nodded before replying in a soft voice. “Those are dangerous words — what if I want you as my San Lang forever?”

“Then you’ll have it, beloved,” Hua Cheng swore, distantly wondering once again if he was in some sort of achingly beautiful dream. But the feeling of Xie Lian in his arms was too real, too wet and cold from the sudden storm in the garden, to question for long.

It was the coldness of the embrace that made Hua Cheng pull away, purely out of concern for Xie Lian who had been shivering earlier. “Gege, I’ve asked for a hot bath to be prepared for you. Allow me to lead you there. I’ll be just outside the door.”

For reasons unknown to Hua Cheng, a blush came onto Xie Lian’s face as he spoke. “What about you, San Lang? Don’t you need a bath as well?”

Hua Cheng smiled at his beloved’s thoughtfulness. “Ghosts don’t need baths, gege. I don’t get hot or cold the way you do, it’s more of a temporary sensation for me. And my form is something I can manipulate, so I don’t stay dirty.”

Hearing this, Xie Lian seemed almost a little… disappointed? Hua Cheng wasn’t sure, and before he could analyze it for too long, the expression had passed and turned pensive. “Hmm, why do you have a bathing pool then?”

That was a question that Hua Cheng could not bring himself to answer entirely honestly — how was he supposed to say that he had specifically made the bath, like all things in Paradise Manor, for His Highness centuries ago without sounding like a presumptuous creep? Which maybe he was, but Dianxia didn’t have to know that!

Once again, he responded in a vague yet honest way. “I find baths to be relaxing on occasion, so I sometimes will take one.”

And this was true, Hua Cheng really did enjoy a warm bath. It could be nice to indulge in the luxuries he hadn’t had as a mortal, when he had mainly bathed in rivers or cold tubs if he was lucky.

HIs reminiscing was interrupted as Xie Lian shivered again, prompting him to hasten their pace towards the bathroom. Xie Lian tried to convince him not to pay it any mind, but Hua Cheng would hear none of it: his guilt for having caused His Highness to be caught in the rain would not allow him to rest until Xie Lian was warm and clean.

And so, after a few more unnoticed sidelong glances from Xie Lian as he stepped into the bathroom, Hua Cheng found himself stationed outside the door, glaring at every servant who had the misfortune of passing by. Contrary to his fierce gaze, his mood had never been more elated, and on the inside he felt as if he had just won a thousand-mile footrace. His god was safe. His god was found. His god loved him. The joy all three of these revelations brought him was indescribable to the mortal mind, and could only be half-understood by a ghost sustained by one emotion and purpose alone.

Lost in this feeling, Hua Cheng only came back to reality once he heard the door of the bathroom open. A wave of excitement rushed over him, and he swiftly turned around to see his beloved, now refreshed and in clean robes. Perhaps what made Hua Cheng happiest of all to see was the rosy flush on Xie Lian’s skin, indicating that he had finally gotten warm again.

Xie Lian smiled before being interrupted by a yawn overtaking him.

“Ah, I fear I’m rather tired after today’s emotions. Was San Lang planning on going to bed now?”

“It doesn’t matter what this San Lang was planning to do. If gege is sleepy, then he’ll sleep. Pray gege allows me to guide him to his room.”

Xie Lian’s smile fell abruptly. 

“ My room? There’s a separate room for me?”

Hua Cheng fought back the urge to chuckle — did his beloved truly think that Hua Cheng wouldn’t have a room prepared for him? 

“Of course there is. Like I said before, gege is welcome to stay here as long as he wishes. That means gege gets a room.”

For the second time, Xie Lian’s face twisted with some inscrutable emotion. The closest match Hua Cheng could think of was, again, disappointment, but the thought of that made him anxious. What could Xie Lian be disappointed by?

Hoping that it was just in his head, Hua Cheng held out an arm, and the two of them began walking through the halls once more. This time, the silence felt stilted instead of peaceful, and Hua Cheng’s inner turmoil grew as he tried to think of things Xie Lian could be unhappy with.

They reached Xie Lian’s room before Hua Cheng’s mind could land on any particular grievance Xie Lian might have. Nothing had seemed amiss…

“Gege, feel free to use this room as you please,” he said, hoping his voice didn’t betray his confusion.

Xie Lian looked at the door like a stranger would an ugly child they were trying their best to be kind to. “I see… thank you, San Lang.”

Not feeling very encouraged by his beloved’s reaction, Hua Cheng grew a little frantic. “Is there something else I can get for gege?”

Xie Lian fixed his face and smiled more politely. “I’m alright, but thank you.”

Hua Cheng was truly going crazy now, but decided that repeatedly asking His Highness if he needed anything would just be annoying, so he forced himself to nod and turn away. But as he did so, a hand reached out to stop him, surprising both him and Xie Lian, who looked down at his own arm like it had betrayed him.

After a moment of staring blankly down, Xie Lian chuckled nervously, letting go of Hua Cheng and scratching the back of his head instead. “Ah, sorry San Lang. I’m being much too clingy right now, don’t mind me.”

Mind grinding to a halt, not daring to believe what His Highness might be implying, Hua Cheng treaded cautiously in this unfamiliar terrain.

 “Gege could never be too clingy… Is there truly nothing this San Lang could do to make His Highness more comfortable?”

To his amazement, Xie Lian blushed and looked down to the side. “San Lang… are you really going to make me say it out loud, and just invite myself over?”

Invite himself over? Does he mean…

Finally, it clicked.

Much too giddily, Hua Cheng grinned and leaned forward to meet Xie Lian’s avoidant gaze. “Is gege trying to say that he would like to sleep in his old room, this San Lang’s room?”

Xie Lian huffed and refused to look up. “So you knew all along what I was hinting at, huh?”

“No, this one truly didn’t understand until just now… won’t my beloved look at me?” Hua Cheng crooned, unable to keep the mirth out of his tone. Huffing yet again, Xie Lian finally raised his gaze and opened his mouth to retort, but before he could, he was swept up into Hua Cheng’s arms in a bridal carry.

“San Lang! What are you doing?”

Hua Cheng raised an eyebrow at him, continuing to walk forward towards their room. “Gege said he was feeling clingy, so I’m just letting him cling as much as he wants to. I want to cling as well,” he smirked.

Feeling rather flustered, Xie Lian put his head in his hands and was silent for the rest of the journey.

After an incense time of preparing for sleep as if they had always done such a thing together, the ghost king and former scrap collector settled into bed.

Before he could allow his dignity to tell him otherwise, Xie Lian nestled against Hua Cheng, relaxing once he felt the physical presence of the other man. He really wasn’t trying to be so needy, it was just that his emotions were still running high. After all, he had just found out that his charming ghost king wasn’t upset with him for spying, that his most devoted believer hadn’t dissipated horrifically centuries ago, and that his beloved loved him back. That was enough to make anyone feel a little dependent!

Of course, Hua Cheng didn’t seem to mind in the least. “Is gege comfortable?” he teased, sounding entirely too pleased with himself. Not that Xie Lian had any desire to reprimand him for it. Instead, he just nodded and pressed himself even closer. As a result, the ghost king practically vibrated with contentment.

The two of them lay there for a while, too blissfully exhausted from the day’s events to say or do anything besides staring at each other in quiet awe. However, Xie Lian remembered the reason he had returned to the art studio in the first place, and grew curious once more.

“You know, I went back to the studio after you left because there was a painting there that looked exactly like the area around the Royal Holy Pavilion. I wanted a closer look, and that’s when I saw all of those statues of me…” Xie Lian trailed off, suddenly feeling quite bashful at the memory of it all. “Those statues, and that painting, it feels as if you were somehow acquainted with my life before everything happened with White No-Face… could it be that you knew me before your time as Wu Ming?”

Maybe a completely awake and alert Hua Cheng would have hesitated before answering. Maybe he would have anxiously wondered if perhaps Xie Lian might feel disgusted to know that the grimy street urchin who ruined his parade and cursed his future was now lying before him. But he knew those were simply his own insecurities, and not what Xie Lian had ever given him reason to believe. So now, feeling content beyond words and deliciously tired, he simply smiled and nodded before responding. 

“Dianxia is very clever. I did in fact know you during my mortal life. Do you remember the child who fell during the Heavenly Procession of the Shangyuan Festival?”

The words took a minute to sink in before Xie Lian abruptly pulled back a little to stare at him incredulously, mouth opening and closing like he wasn’t sure if he understood correctly.

“Are you saying…?”

Hua Cheng nodded. “And do you remember the child you told to live for you? And the soldier from the cave on Beizi Hill? And the one from the Royal Holy Temple? And the ghost fire who seemed to follow you around on multiple occasions?”

Xie Lian’s jaw had dropped so low that Hua Cheng fought the urge to gently close it, lest a fly enter. It seemed that any drowsiness had left Xie Lian’s system, and now all he could do was gape and stammer incoherently like he had just seen a ghost. Which he had.

“San Lang!” he finally cried, rousing himself from his stupor to fling himself over Hua Cheng so that his hands were on either side of him, caging him in from above. “Do you really mean that all of those times, it was you?” His eyes, which had been half-lidded with sleep before, now were shot open.

“I do.”

After a few more moments of staring so hard that Hua Cheng worried he might pull a muscle, Xie Lian’s arms gave out and he crashed into Hua Cheng, immediately drawing him into a crushing hug. 

“You’ve been there all along, haven’t you?” he breathed.

Acting on instinct, Hua Cheng returned the embrace tenfold, remembering the way he had held onto Xie Lian as a lifeline during the Shangyuan Festival, recalling the scent and warmth of him then and comparing it with the scent and warmth of him now. Comparing not for the sake of favoring one over the other, but for noting every minute detail and difference within his beloved.

“I want to always be there for you, Dianxia. Just as you have always been there for me.” 

He had meant to say this reassuringly, to be a rock that Xie Lian could rely on while feeling emotionally vulnerable, but the words came out in a tremulous whisper. Because despite all the trials that Hua Cheng had gone through to become Crimson Rain Sought Flower, the overflowing love he had first felt as Hong Hong-er still remained in full.

Chapter Text

Hua Cheng did not sleep that night. Sleep had always been a rare indulgence for him. He’d tell himself that it was time better spent looking for Dianxia, time better spent improving himself for Dianxia, time better spent reminding himself of all the ways he had failed so he’d never repeat those mistakes again. But now, Dianxia was here . Dianxia was alive, breathing softly and occasionally snoring in the cutest way imaginable, and he was safe. And somehow, perhaps most incredibly of all, he loved Hua Cheng. 

So although Xie Lian quickly fell asleep while wrapped in Hua Cheng’s arms, Hua Cheng did not close his eyes at all. Instead, he stared at his god, his mind transcending thought itself and thrumming that single emotion which had sustained him all this time. Love.

Every twitch of Xie Lian’s nose, every fluttering of his eyelids, was something precious, and Hua Cheng resolved to never miss a single second of it while he was able. Because the terrifying truth was, he didn’t know what came next. Although the two of them had confessed much to each other, there were still things left unsaid. What would Xie Lian want to do, now that his mission was over? Would he return to the heavens and his duties as a god?

Hua Cheng, although he would never stop his beloved from doing anything he wanted to, didn’t like that idea at all.

Why should the heavens get to have Dianxia, when all they did was cast him out, over and over again? Why should Jun Wu get to have any sort of authority over him, after sending him on such a mission?

The mission was something Hua Cheng grappled with his feelings over. On one hand, it had brought Dianxia to him. After centuries of relentless and futile searching, such a thing was a miracle in his mind. But on the other hand, there was no way the mission had been assigned with good intent. Hua Cheng was informed and observant enough to know that the heavens were bound to send a spy at some point. They had sent countless ‘diplomats’ in the past, all trying to find out his weaknesses. Clever, that they would finally find one and exploit it.

The heavens had always been loathed by Hua Cheng, yet he felt even more malice towards them now that they had endangered his god in such a way. Xie Lian’s safety and well-being could not be entrusted to them in the slightest. If Dianxia chose to return and rejoin his fellow gods, Hua Cheng would simply have to find a way to protect him from afar. Or maybe, Hua Cheng could ascend again. Wouldn’t that be amusing, getting to see the horror that would flash across those mangy heavenly officials’ faces?

Hua Cheng was a planner. A person doesn’t become as successful as him without extensive planning. In a world with so many unknowns, especially regarding his elusive god, planning was often frustrating and could drive him half-mad. But now, as he lay in bed and plotted out the various ways of shielding his beloved from any harm, he felt no annoyance at all. How could he be anything but entirely at peace while gazing upon His Highness in the flesh?

Morning came entirely too quickly. A single night of undistracted staring was not enough to observe all of Dianxia’s wonder. When pesky ghost birds, which Hua Cheng now deeply regretted ever inviting into Ghost City, began to sing, Xie Lian stirred and smacked his lips. Hua Cheng watched in awe as amber eyes slowly opened and met his gaze. After a moment of surprise, as if Xie Lian hadn’t been expecting to wake up so pleasantly, a wide smile stretched across his face.

“Ah, good morning San Lang,” Xie Lian said, voice still a little raspy with sleep. He lay so close that his breath warmed Hua Cheng’s nose upon speaking. The sensation was so lovely that Hua Cheng felt as if he could weep.

“Good morning, gege. Did you sleep well?”

Xie Lian rolled from his side onto his back and stretched his arms over his head. “Very well. You know, this bed is even more comfortable than that pillow you gave me as a stoat,” he teased with a grin.

Before Hua Cheng could even begin to apologize for making His Highness sleep on a lowly cushion, Xie Lian continued as he turned his head to face Hua Cheng. “Ah ah ah, none of that. That pillow was truly exquisite, San Lang. Why would you waste such a thing on a dirty stoat from the streets that you didn’t even know?”

Well, Hua Cheng could easily answer that. “Because you are the most adorable being ever, even as a stoat,” he said with full confidence. 

A blush came onto Xie Lian’s cheeks at that. “You’re shameless,” he muttered, squinting his eyes in an attempt to come across as stern.

“No, I’m just honest. I promise, you’ll never find someone more sincere than me.”

The blush only intensified as Xie Lian rolled away, putting his back to Hua Cheng and sitting up. “W-well, we better get ready for the day!”

And with that, Xie Lian sprung to his feet and quickly scurried over to the vanity, picking up a random comb and brushing his hair with alarming speed. Hua Cheng chuckled before rolling out of bed and walking up to him. 

As Hua Cheng approached the mirror, he noticed that Xie Lian’s brushing motions had slowed and that his reflection had turned thoughtful, as if something was weighing on him.

“San Lang, the heavens mentioned that you once smiled at a stoat. They seemed to think that this was the only time you showed any affection towards a living thing. Are you fond of stoats, or was the rumor false?”

“I suppose I’ve always liked stoats, even before I met you as Xueqiu. They’re adorable of course, but the truly amazing thing about them is that they can survive in extreme harsh living conditions. They’re intelligent and resolute, and use those traits to adapt to their surroundings. In winter, they turn white to blend in with the snow. In other seasons, they use their brown coats to camouflage against the ground and tree trunks. They’re small, but they can easily take down prey their size and larger just with a well-placed bite to the neck. It’s extremely difficult to take one as a pet. Most of them simply won’t stand for it. They won’t be controlled. So, to sum it up, they’re cute fluffy noodles that bravely face any hardship thrown at them, are much stronger than most credit them for, and won’t yield to so-called authority. Precisely like my beloved, minus the fluffy noodle part.”

Xie Lian’s expression went from curious to wondrous as his lips parted. “You must be the only one who thinks of me that way…”

“It’s true, though. That’s why I have a soft spot for stoats. That’s why I smiled at one, once. It stood up on its hind legs and stared at me with its inky little eyes, as if it was sizing me up. Any other animal would have taken one glance at me and run away, taking me to be some sort of predator. But that little stoat was fearless, and took the time to really try to understand me and what I was. So of course I smiled. How could I not?”

Xie Lian dropped the comb onto the table and wrapped Hua Cheng up in a hug. “My San Lang is incredible, I’m glad that stoat could see it too. The story of you smiling at that stoat really baffled the heavens, you know. It was the only lead that Ling Wen could think of for this mission.”

Hearing that the topic which had been plaguing him last night had been broached, Hua Cheng decided to try to push a little more. “How exactly did they determine that you were the one to be sent on this mission?”

“Ah, well… I ascended again but accidentally caused quite the amount of damage, haha… Jun Wu had directed my ascension to the Palace of Divine Might in hopes of avoiding the destruction with a protection spell, but it seems the spell was faulty somehow. Anyways, the heavens were a complete mess after I landed, and I found myself in some debt. This mission was offered as a way to pay it back. I was hesitant, but Jun Wu was insistent that he’d send a different spy if I didn’t do it. He said that you had a grudge against the gods that needed to be addressed.”

Hua Cheng frowned. “Well, they only made that grudge worse by sending you in such a degrading way,” he huffed.

Xie Lian peered at him a bit bashfully. “After everything we talked about, I began to wonder if I was the reason for the grudge… San Lang, you must know, the heavens aren’t to blame for what happened to me. Everything in Xianle and during my banishment was the consequence of my own decisions.”

The frown on Hua Cheng’s face only deepened. “Perhaps they were the consequences. But if choosing to do good is a fault and something to be anything but praised, then there is nothing in this world worth doing. Acts of kindness that lead to bad things are still acts of kindness. No one can predict the future. If people were to stop being kind in fear that it would backfire, there would be no good left in the world. So, I resent the fact that you would be punished for doing what was objectively the kind and good thing to do.”

“It’s not as simple as all of that,” Xie Lian said quietly, looking down at his feet. “I was naive, and overly confident that I could change fate. I used my power as a prince and as a god to execute my own foolish plans. I didn’t listen to the many, many people who told me what to do. If I had listened, maybe everyone’s suffering would have been eased.”

“Or maybe it wouldn’t have been,” Hua Cheng said. “Maybe everyone would have suffered even more if you hadn’t intervened. Alternative realities cannot be known. Fate isn’t always right. Sometimes, other people use fate as a disguise or an excuse to do their own bidding unquestioned.”

Xie Lian glanced at him curiously. “You say that like it’s something you’ve seen happen before.”

“I wonder about it. Gege, what do you plan to do, now that the mission is over?”

Startled at the sudden change in discussion, Xie Lian pulled out of the embrace and crossed his arms nervously in front of himself. “I’m really not sure. Jun Wu told me to pray if I needed to return, but he didn’t respond to my prayers earlier. Now that I have my shackles broken and am human again, I can either contact him using my communication array or simply reenter the heavens on my own. The proper thing to do as a god would be to at least let Jun Wu know that the mission is over and that my shackles are gone. But… I don’t want to leave you. I can’t stay and hide here forever while ignoring my responsibilities, but the thought of leaving now is far worse than any punishment I might face in the heavens for avoiding my duties. We just found each other, you spent so long looking for me and I spent so long grieving you, how can I —”

“Gege, it’s ok. Even if you return to the heavens, I will always be here for you. I don’t want you to feel like you have to choose between me and being a god. It was your dream to be a god, and you are the only true god in that sea of clowns. I couldn’t tear you away from that if that’s what you want. Is it what you want?”

Xie Lian stared down at his hands. “I want to help people to the best of my abilities. But I want to be with you just as much. If I return after failing this mission, Jun Wu may just give me my shackles back. I’ll lose my luck again. What if we get separated?”

Hua Cheng reached out and grasped his hands. “We’re not letting Jun Wu put those shackles on you again. I’m not letting him separate you from me.”

As he spoke, Xie Lian felt a tingling on his finger. When Hua Cheng let go of his hand, there was a red string wrapped around his ring finger. 

“This string will always lead us to each other, as long as the other lives. See?”

As Hua Cheng lifted up his own hand, the red string around his finger extended to the one around Xie Lian’s. Xie Lian watched in awe.

“Even if we are somehow separated, we can always find each other. But gege, if you’re feeling stuck, I have an idea. You may not like it and it’s alright to refuse — we can think of another way.”

“What is it, San Lang?”

As Hua Cheng continued and explained his plan, a pleased smile grew on Xie Lian’s face.

Xie Lian decided that he would return to the heavens the next day. He was already pushing his luck by staying so long when there was a chance Jun Wu could sense that his shackles had been broken, but he couldn’t find it in himself to break away from the cozy bubble he had with Hua Cheng in Paradise Manor. He would miss the days he had spent with San Lang, free from godly duties and court gossip. 

They had finally managed to actually get ready for the day together and were enjoying tea and a meal, which was much more reasonably portioned this time at Xie Lian’s request. However, they were not even an incense time into eating before the sound of footsteps rapidly approached. 

Yin Yu bustled in and threw himself down into a bow. “Greetings Your Highness, Chengzhu. I apologize for interrupting your meal, but Lord Black Water is at the door and demanding to speak with Chengzhu in person. He says it is a matter of the utmost importance and that he tried reaching out through the array but was dismissed before getting the chance to speak.”

Hua Cheng sighed. “I told that fool not to bother me for the time being. But, I suppose I do need to discuss my upcoming plans with him. Gege, I’m sorry to ask, but is it ok if he comes in?”

“Of course. I’ll be happy to meet Lord Black Water as a person for the first time.”

Hua Cheng frowned at that, but waved Yin Yu away regardless. It wasn’t until the coast was clear that he spoke.

“Gege, you need to be careful around Black Water. He may not be as powerful as me, but he is a ghost king and not to be written off. There are certain things you overheard him say as a stoat, and I strongly advise you to forget all of it. If he is aware that you know of his presence in the heavens, he will become extremely hostile towards. You will only cause trouble for yourself if you get involved with him. So please, don’t let him know that you were Xueqiu.”

Xie Lian thought about this. He had, of course, learned that Black Water was a spy in the heavens while he himself was acting as a spy in Paradise Manor. He remembered that Black Water had mentioned plans that could be endangered if he was exposed in the heavens, and he knew that Black Water was someone who was prominent enough in the court to speak with other gods and to have a performance review with Jun Wu. But this information wasn’t enough to identify who he could be parading as. Even middle court officials could be brought in for a performance review if they were doing extremely well or poorly, and a change in status was being considered. At this moment, Xie Lian couldn’t conclusively determine who Black Water was disguised as. And Xie Lian himself had been a spy, so who was he to judge a ghost king’s mystery plan in the heavens? 

Yet, the situation did not make him feel at ease.

“I won’t reveal that I was Xueqiu. But San Lang, is Black Water someone to be considered a threat?”

“He’s no threat to you as long as you stay out of your way. Even if he did threaten you, I would knock him down in an instant. But he’s a ghost king, and it would be foolish of me to challenge him unnecessarily.”

“... But is he a threat to other people?”

Hua Cheng grimaced. “Fate has made an error that he believes he must correct,” he said somewhat cryptically, picking at his nails a bit.

Seeing how strained Hua Cheng’s expression had grown, Xie Lian decided to back off.

“It’s alright if you can’t tell me more, San Lang. I understand that as ghost kings, you two probably have some sort of accord. As long as he continues to show no signs of being a danger to someone, I’ll stay out of his way.”

Although he didn’t appear entirely pleased with this response, Hua Cheng nodded and lifted two fingers to his temple. “Send Black Water in,” he instructed Yin Yu.

Not even ten seconds later, a very excited-looking Black Water came rushing into the dining room as Yin Yu trailed meekly behind him.

“Crimson Rain, get ready to erase my debt! I found out a certain white robe was left in the Palace of Divine Might…” Black Water bellowed uncharacteristically loudly as he entered. However, the minute he came within eyesight of Xie Lian, his eyes widened before his face fell like the rug had just been swept under his feet. Yin Yu simply bowed and exited quickly.

Black Water’s smile twisted down, the twinkle in his eyes dimmed, and his voice returned to its normal melancholic tone as he appraised the two men in front of him.

“I should have known,” he muttered. “Nothing that lucky could ever happen to me.”

Hua Cheng grinned. “Nope,” he said with a self-satisfied pop of his lips at the end of the word.

With a strangled-sounding groan, Black Water straightened up and levelled Hua Cheng a miserable look. “Congratulations are in order, I suppose,” he muttered, although his voice didn’t sound congratulatory in the least.

Hua Cheng simply raised a brow at him while Xie Lian chuckled awkwardly.

“Ah, San Lang and I thank you, Lord Black Water.”

Now it was Black Water’s turn to shoot Hua Cheng a skeptical look. “ San Lang? ”

Hua Cheng smirked like a cat who had gotten the cream. “Yes, San Lang. But only my beloved has the right to call me that. Say that name again and I’ll rip out your tongue.”

Black Water’s eyes just about bulged out of his head at the word ‘beloved’. 

“You crazy bastard… he knows ?! You told him about your deranged obsession with him?”

Placing a hand protectively over Hua Cheng’s, Xie Lian spoke for them. “Please don’t say such things about my San Lang, Lord Black Water.”

“ Your San La — oh good grief. You’re just as bad as him.”

“If you refer to His HIghness as being ‘bad’ in any way again, I’ll gladly rip out your tongue and disperse you.”

Black Water huffed and put his hands up in surrender. “Whatever. I suppose this means that my debt isn’t going away,” he grumbled slowly, as if his disappointment was immeasurable.

Was it really fair that Black Water would walk away with nothing? It was hard to watch the man king sitting there like all the little joy he had in his ghostly form had been sucked out of him. Xie Lian cast Hua Cheng a pleading look, earning him a resigned sigh. 

“It’s definitely not going away, but… consider an eighth of it forgiven. I’m feeling generous, and my beloved seems to want you to have some sort of reward for knowing that he was the one who ascended. Even though I personally don’t think you really accomplished much with that information.”

Although the other ghost king seemed more slightly chipper at this news, his expression was still pained. “Just a measly eighth? Really?”

“Are you perhaps forgetting just how much you owe me? Shall we do the calculations on exactly how much an eighth of your total debt is?”

Wincing like he had just been stung by an eyepatch-wearing wasp, Black Water waved his hand hurriedly. “Fine. An eighth it is. But I am curious, how exactly did you find His Highness so quickly after his ascension? He was nowhere to be seen in the heavens.”

Xie Lian clapped his hands together, his answer already prepared. “I was sent to Ghost City on a secret mission. That’s when I met San Lang. Things sort of… escalated from there.”

Black Water just fixed him with a blank look. “Right… escalated ,” he said dryly.

“Listen,” Hua Cheng interrupted, commanding Black Water’s attention. “His Highness and I will be travelling a bit, and I won’t always be in Ghost City from now on. Yin Yu is prepared for my future absences. So don’t come storming into my domain expecting to find me all the time, and don’t do anything stupid where you’ll need my immediate assistance. But even with His Highness found, our deal continues. Keep me updated on anything you learn in the Heavenly Realm.”

Black Water glanced suspiciously at Xie Lian. “Can’t His Highness just tell you what the gods are up to?”

“It sounds to me like you don’t want to uphold your end of our agreement, Black Water. Is that right?”

“... Fine. I’ll keep being your heavenly rat.” Then, Black Water looked around the room. “Speaking of rats, where’s that pet of yours?”

Although he exuded malicious energy at Xie Lian being called a pet rat, Hua Cheng plastered on his usual smirk. “He’s in the manor, and he’s coming with me on the upcoming travels.”

Black Water chuckled, although it came out as monotone just like the rest of his persona. “I knew you had gotten attached to that thing. Giving it to His Highness as a gift was just an excuse to keep it.”

Strangely enough, Hua Cheng’s smirk turned almost into a genuine smile for once. “Guilty as charged.”

Chapter Text

The heavens had never been in such disarray.

There was no “weather” in the Heavenly Capital. Rather, it was always in a perpetual state of sunshine, accompanied by a gentle, fragrant breeze. 

But for the first time in centuries, it rained. And just like the last and only time it rained before, the rain was red.

The looming figure of Crimson Rain Sought Flower, leisurely strolling through the Heavenly Capital like he owned the place, was enough to distract most of the terrified gods from the humble cultivator next to him. Too horrified by seeing that smug face which haunted their dreams in the flesh, the vast majority of the gods who unfortunately happened to be wandering outside fled to their palaces and barricaded the doors.

Only two gods remained frozen where they stood, staring not at the infamous ghost king but at his companion who walked next to him under a shared red umbrella.

His was a face that Feng Xin and Mu Qing could never quite forget. How was one supposed to move on from the prince you had spent your formative years serving, had sworn to protect with your life? Especially when the prince was someone like Taizi Dianxia.

For once, Feng Xin and Mu Qing spared each other a glance that wasn’t entirely contemptuous.

“I’m not hallucinating… right?” Feng Xin whispered harshly, his wide eyes flickering between Xie Lian and Mu Qing.

Although annoyed that Feng Xin’s whisper was the equivalent of a normal person speaking a full volume, Mu Qing couldn’t find it in himself to be snarky in that particular moment.

“If you’re seeing His Highness promenading with Crimson Rain Sought Flower through his blood rain, then no, you aren’t hallucinating. What the actual fuck is going on?” Mu Qing hissed, looking more and more disturbed by the sight in front of him.

When he finally looked back at Feng Xin, he saw that the man had turned as pale as Hua Cheng. 

“This is bad… What happened to His Highness?” Feng Xin whispered-yelled.

“We won’t know unless we trail them. It looks like Crimson Rain is taking him towards the Palace of Divine Might. I bet he’s going to demand to speak with Jun Wu. Follow me.”

Feng Xin was nodding along until Mu Qing said the words “follow me.” Instantly, his expression turned sour. “Why am I the one following you? You’re always bossing me around!” he grumbled. However, since he wasn’t a complete idiot who couldn’t realize the severity of the situation, he still tagged along as Mu Qing started sneaking away. Mu Qing could at least appreciate that, not that he would ever voice it.

Sure enough, Crimson Rain and Xie Lian walked up the steps of the Palace of Divine Might. As they approached the entrance, the grand doors suddenly swung open as if their visit had been expected, and the two continued in. Giving up on stealth, Mu Qing and Feng Xin managed to slip in after them.

As soon as the doors shut behind them, Xie Lian turned around.

Feng Xin had always thought that he would be glad to see Xie Lian again. He had spent years, decades, centuries even, trying to reconcile the Xie Lian he had known in his youth with the Xie Lian he ultimately left behind. It was like he had been possessed once Xianle fell. And as much as the guilt and anger and pain surrounding Feng Xin’s departure stopped him from ever wanting to think about the crown prince again, a part of him deeply wished to see his friend once more. And now that Xie Lian was here, staring at him like a deer right in the aim of his bow, he didn’t know what to do.

When Xie Lian’s gaze turned to Mu Qing, Mu Qing was expecting it to sting like the mud the crown prince had thrown at him so many centuries ago. But instead, it was strangely… peaceful.

Not even a moment after Xie Lian turned around, Hua Cheng followed suit. And unlike Xie Lian, who could carefully hide away his true feelings and maintain a serene facade, Crimson Rain’s expression was nothing short of hellish. Instinctively, Feng Xin and Mu Qing reached for the weapons. But at that Hua Cheng simply sneered, as if the very thought of fighting them was amusing, before turning around and walking towards the throne with Xie Lian.

“Crimson Rain Sought Flower. It’s interesting to see you all the way up here, good sir,” Jun Wu said evenly, his voice betraying no surprise at seeing the scourge of the heavens in his own throne room. His gaze turned to Xie Lian, and his eyes softened. “Xianle, I’m glad to see you are well.”

When Jun Wu’s eyes fell lower on Xie Lian’s bare neck, devoid of any shackle, his mouth twitched almost imperceptibly.

Hua Cheng laughed, slow and deep, and it was as if the temperature in the room dropped below freezing. “Glad? Does the Heavenly Capital have a habit of simply sending their officials off into the lion’s den with no protection, hoping that it’ll work out? How bold.”

A number of attendants tensed up at such a taunt directed at the heavenly emperor, but Jun Wu simply waved them off with a gentle smile and nod. Then, he turned back to Hua Cheng with a solemn expression.

“You’re right. I was overly bold. There was an opportunity for Xianle to restore his good standing in the heavens and for us to better understand the ghost realm, and I took it without proper precautions. I accept the blame. But let me be clear — if I thought Xianle would have been in any real danger, I never would have sent him.”

“Is that so?” Hua Cheng asked, seemingly disinterested and picking at the nonexistent dirt under his long fingernails as if it was a far more important task than talking to the heavenly emperor. “Since he can’t die, that means there’s no real danger to you? The heavens are much more brutal than I thought. I think His Highness is safer in my hands after all.”

Feng Xin could stand quietly no longer and spoke up from the back of the room. “Ha! A god, safe with Crimson Rain Sought Flower? Leave His Highness alone!”

The ghost king hummed, not even bothering to turn around and look at Feng Xin. “No, I don’t think I will. Having His Highness keep me company these past weeks has made me grow rather attached to him. I thank the heavens for the generous gift of his presence.”

Although Hua Cheng’s voice never wavered from his typical condescending tone, there was a disconnect between his words and the sentiment behind them that Feng Xin couldn’t quite place. That, combined with the pale, ghostly hand that came to rest on Xie Lian’s shoulder, was enough to make Feng Xin break out into a nervous sweat.

Jun Wu maintained his usual calm demeanor, but a crease was beginning to form on his forehead. “Have you come here just to thank us, good sir?”

“No, not quite. As I’m sure you can imagine, I’m rather livid right now. There I was, minding my own business with my adorable new stoat, only to find out that the heavens have arranged the whole thing as a way to spy on me? If you all are so desperate to know me better, you could have just asked. No need to endanger His Highness in such a way.”

Mu Qing scoffed from where he and Feng Xin stood in the back of the throne room. “Fine then, since you’re suddenly so open to communication, let’s skip the theatrics and get to the root of the problem. Why do you hate us so much? Why are you constantly causing problems and refusing to speak to us?”

Hua Cheng chuckled darkly as he turned his head to meet Mu Qing’s stare. In that lone, dark eye, Mu Qing swore he saw a flash of something infernal, something infinitely hateful and condescending. 

The ghost king then fully turned around to face the growing crowd of attendants and gossip-hungry officials who had congregated once they had realized that Crimson Rain wasn’t showing any intentions of attacking. As he turned, he released his hold on Xie Lian, who continued to stare blankly ahead towards the ground at Jun Wu’s feet. 

“There was a time when I would never waste the breath to divulge such information to low lives like you all,” Hua Cheng sighed. “But alas, His Highness is too keen, and has already discovered my secrets. I may as well air them out for all to know, hmm?”

Mu Qing must have not expected such ready agreement, for his mouth began to open and close as he struggled to think of what to say. In the end, he settled on grimacing and putting a cautionary hand on his saber. 

Hua Cheng waited until an uncomfortable silence had settled around the court before speaking again, this time in a much more serious voice. 

“The heavens, time and time again, have proven to be nothing but a rotten tree that sheds every lively bloom. Rot does not recognize the flower and rejects it. Likewise, corrupted gods do not recognize goodness and reject it. Here in the Heavenly Capital, greed festers within each palace like insidious mold.

“I have a beloved in this world who has been wronged beyond measure. You all will never be able to atone, never be able to become worthy of sharing their air, and worst of all, will never be able to fully understand the depths of your cruelty and cowardice.

“I hate you all for your willful blindness, for keeping this system out of fear and avarice. But most of all, I hate you for shaking off the flower.”

Noises of confused indignation began to rumble from the crowd, but the two martial gods of the south remained deathly quiet, both looking at the back of their former master standing beside Hua Cheng.

“Mu Qing,” Feng Xin whispered in a much quieter voice than before as he stared at the motionless Xie Lian facing away from them. “What do you think Crimson Rain is planning?”

Anyone who wasn’t intimately familiar with Feng Xin would likely detect no emotion on the man’s face. But Mu Qing, despite all his efforts to forget their shared past, immediately saw the utter concern etched into Feng Xin’s features as he stared at the former prince of Xianle.

Ever the loyal bodyguard.

“I don’t know,” Mu Qing said blandly. And I don’t care, he wanted to add, but strangely could not voice the words.

Instead, what came from his lips next shocked both him and Feng Xin. 

“We’ll protect him,” he said, as if making a simple observation about the weather and not declaring to protect one of the strongest martial gods in history from the greatest threat to the heavens. As soon as he registered what he had just said, Mu Qing felt his heart begin to beat uncomfortably fast.

Slack-jawed, Feng Xin stared at him like he had just spouted a second head. It took every ounce of Mu Qing’s willpower not to punch him for looking so surprised. Instead, Mu Qing felt his face burn under Feng Xin’s gaze and shifted around, crossing his arms even more tightly in front of him as he continued to watch the scene in front of them.

Mu Qing couldn’t tell what was more uncomfortable, Feng Xin’s or Hua Cheng’s watchful silence.

“Of course.”

Mu Qing’s head finally whipped around to meet Feng Xin’s stare. “What?”

“I said of course. We’ll protect him.”

A knot that Mu Qing hadn’t even realized was there began to unravel in his stomach. But there wasn’t much time to dwell on that, as Jun Wu began to speak.

“Good sir, I’m afraid I don’t quite follow. Could you be more specific? What flower do you speak of?”

Hua Cheng smiled. “I think I’ve said quite enough. Perhaps the heavens are willfully deaf as well.”

Jun Wu smiled as well, but it was noticeably tense at the corners. “Suit yourself. It seems this grudge is not one you are willing to let go of, and so the details are pointless. Which brings us back to my previous question — why are you here?”

“It’s like I said earlier — I’m livid. The heavens have been cruel yet again. Their behavior cannot go unchecked. And so, as you sent a spy to me, I’d like to send a spy to you.”

Whispers began to bubble up among the officials. What kind of person so arrogantly requested to place a spy? Didn’t that defeat the purpose of having one?

Ignoring the rabble, Hua Cheng inspected his nails again. “His Highness knows an awful lot about me now. It also seems that the heavens like to make His Highness do their dirty work. That seems like a recipe for disaster to me. So, I have a simple request: allow me to accompany His Highness as I please. I swear not to interfere with his heavenly duties. Think of me as a shadow of sorts.”

Some of the tension in the room significantly eased among the onlooking heavenly officials. Although it wasn’t a perfect outcome, how much harm could come from a ghost king monitoring a simple scrap god? It was a far better alternative to Hua Cheng declaring war and burning everyone’s temples again.

But despite the relieved smiles creeping onto the faces of the rest of the gods, Jun Wu’s serene smile began to turn downwards.

“Crimson Rain, the idea for a spy was mine. Don’t hold His Highness at fault.”

“I would never. It’s like I said — His Highness knows so much about me, and I’ve gotten rather attached. Why shouldn’t I be able to tag along on his missions? Is there perhaps something you’re trying to hide?”

Jun Wu’s expression was beginning to grow stormy, but before he could respond, a gentle voice spoke up.

“My lord, I accept Crimson Rain’s request. There’s no reason to hesitate for my sake.”

The crowd’s attention turned to Xie Lian, whose previously inexpressive face now was set in determination. 

Jun Wu’s eyes only darkened.

“Xianle, there’s danger that I believe you aren’t considering. I assume Crimson Rain is the one who broke your shackles. Although I fully heartedly believe you’ve worn those curses long enough, I can’t imagine his reason for deciding to get rid of them.”

“It wasn’t something I decided, actually,” Hua Cheng corrected. “I accidentally broke them, as they were rather flimsy on his form as a stoat. I suppose they shrunk along with him. Unless all of your shackles are built poorly to begin with?”

The chuckle that Jun Wu let out was that of a father amused by a tantrum, but as his eyes drifted to the bare spot on Xie Lian’s neck, his laugh died out and a twisted smile lingered on his face. “I see Crimson Rain is as flashy as ever. I suppose time will tell what your intentions are.”

And with that, Jun Wu turned back to Xie Lian. “Xianle is the one who will carry the burden of Crimson Rain’s request. If he accepts, I have no reason not to allow it. But Xianle, this is not your only option. I can help you.”

For the first time in the whole ordeal, Xie Lian smiled. “No, thank you, my lord.”

“Gege. Gege, look at me.”

Xie Lian shook his head furiously and continued to bustle around the inn room they had rented by Yu Jun Mountain, cleaning up random corners as he moved. There are many things to do to prepare for tomorrow, he told himself. A tidy room lends a tidy mind which lends tidy thoughts…

A noise that sounded suspiciously like a whine came from behind him, but Xie Lian remained stalwart and focused on inspecting under the table for splinters.

“Why is my beloved ignoring me?” Hua Cheng pouted. After a moment, the misery in his tone turned far more genuine. “Gege, did this one offend you earlier? I swear I tried to stick to the plan, but if I said something out of line…”

“No!” Xie Lian cried out, finally turning to face Hua Cheng but bumping his head on the table in doing so. Immediately, Hua Cheng was at his side, ready to blast the table into smithereens for daring to hurt his god. The poor table was only saved by a gentle hand resting against Hua Cheng’s.

“Ah, I mean, no, that’s not it at all. I’m not upset with you in the slightest, San Lang.”

“Then what has made Gege so quiet?”

While Xie Lian might have developed a thick skin over the centuries, there was no way he could say what was truly on his mind so easily!

But Hua Cheng would not relent. “Will Gege at least tell me if it’s something I did?”

“Haha, well…”

Now Hua Cheng looked utterly crestfallen. “Dianxia, I’m sorry. This one was out of line back in the heavens, I never meant to make you feel like a prisoner.”

The pitiful sight of a sad San Lang was enough to make Xie Lian crack. “I liked it!” he blurted, face burning with embarrassment.

“... Huh?”

Xie Lian groaned and threw his hands over his face, hiding away from Hua Cheng’s incredulous stare. “Don’t make me say it again…”

If Xie Lian hadn’t been covering his face, he would have seen the shift from disbelief to intense, burning desire in Hua Cheng’s eyes. Unfortunately for Xie Lian, Hua Cheng’s next move came as a complete surprise. 

Without a word, the ghost king scooped Xie Lian into a possessive bridal carry. “Oh? Does Dianxia enjoy being at the whims of this foul Calamity?” he whispered, his chest rumbling against Xie Lian as he leaned into his space with an impossibly wide smirk.

Xie Lian shrieked and began to babble on about how many cobwebs he had left to clean in the room when suddenly the door flew open.

“We heard a commotion, is — Crimson Rain! Unhand His Highness this instant!” Nan Feng cried as he came barrelling in with a rather annoyed Fu Yao slinking in after him.

In such a chaotic moment, it took all of Xie Lian’s willpower not to melt into a puddle of embarrassment on the floor. When Feng Xin and Mu Qing had demanded to send deputies with him and San Lang on their hunt for the ghost bridegroom, he had taken them at their word. How was he supposed to have known that they would simply disguise themselves as Nan Feng and Fu Yao? And what a poor disguise at that! Truly, it was almost comical if Xie Lian thought about it long enough. Did they really think he wouldn’t notice?

Although Xie Lian was ready to ascend or descend or do whatever would get him out of this situation, Hua Cheng looked far too pleased. “No, I don’t think I will. I rather like having His Highness in my arms, where I know he can’t wander too far.”

“Bastard!”

Xie Lian sighed internally. Perhaps I will have to develop an even thicker skin, he lamented, already feeling embarrassed by the thought. But as he finally ventured a sheepish smile at Nan Feng and Fu Yao and noticed how their eyes shone with concern, a tucked-away piece of his heart warmed for the first time since Xianle had fallen. 

It’s nice to be so cared for. 

And so, with a light chuckle, Xie Lian pried himself out of Hua Cheng’s hold and stepped onto the ground, where he tried his best to ignore the pout that surely was on his ghost king’s face. “Now, that’s enough from all of you. San Lang was just…”

Unfortunately, there was no good and proper excuse for what San Lang was doing! Xie Lian resisted the urge to rub his forehead and continued on with all the bravery he could muster.

“Well, it doesn’t matter what San Lang was doing! What matters is that we’ve got a busy day ahead of us tomorrow, and we’ll need to get some good rest tonight. After all, we’ve got a ghost bridegroom to catch!”

Xie Lian had tried his best to sound confident and authoritative at the end, but was beginning to doubt himself as he watched Fu Yao and Nan Feng stare at him in… disgust?

“San Lang???” they squawked, almost in perfect unison. 

It really is uncanny how they compliment each other, Xie Lian thought to himself as he smiled politely at the two disguised gods.

“Yes, that’s right,” he said. If a slight blush overtook his cheeks, well, how was he supposed to stop that?

At such an admission and such a sight, the two martial gods of the south could only turn to each other in their incredulity. With an air of grimness, Nan Feng raised two fingers to his temple in silence as he entered Fu Yao's communication array.

Mu Qing, I think we’ve made a grave mistake coming along.