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Shi Wudu didn’t know the moment he fell for Ming Yi.
Maybe it was the way Ming Yi always fell in line with his brother. The dark calm he radiated in match to Shi Qingxuan’s bright energy.
But none of that mattered. Shi Wudu’s heart ached when he saw the earth master.
Shi Wudu trailed after Ming Yi the same way waves crashed against the shore. To stick close for only a moment, then retreat back into the sea. Dots of sand intermingled with the salty sea foam, but they never truly mixed.
Shi Wudu’s eyes slowly opened. Black, damp, tile surrounded him. His hands were chained behind his back, but that didn’t matter. His limbs were to weak to move anyway.
Blackwater Mansion. His mind ever so helpfully whispered. The place he had always dreaded being.
And pacing in from of him, the one he always loathed to see.
“Ming Yi?”
Shi Wudu’s voice rang through the dim lit room. Ming Yi paused, his body going rigid.
“Ming Yi, you have to save my brother.”
“Save him?” Ming Yi echoed.
“Please, who knows what Black Water wants with him.”
Ming Yi laughed. Feral and unforgiving, he laughed from the very bottom of his heart.
“Shi Qingxuan is no bother. He’s back in the mortal realm, probably crying his eyes out.”
"We need to get out of here. There must be an array somewhere,” Shi Wudu trailed off. Dozens of thoughts ran through his mind. They fluttered by, dissipating before Shi Wudu could truly think.
“You fear the very one you call for help.”
Shi Wudu paused, his pain-addled mind trying to comprehend Ming Yi’s words.
“You don’t get it, do you?”
Shi Wudu didnt move. Couldn’t move.
“You motherfucker, you don’t get it!”
Ming Yi’s words weren’t a question. It was years of suffering weighed down by the cut off satisfaction of finally having the one who wronged you in the palm of your hand, and yet they don’t even know your name.
“Speak!” Ming Yi wrenched Shi Wudu’s head up, to let their eyes meet.
Those blue eyes, the color of the sun hitting the sea, the color Shi Wudu saw in his dreams. Now, they glared down upon him in contempt.
“Earth Master-”
The sharp burn of Ming Yi hitting him across the face cut Shi Wudu off.
“Have you truly forgotten? Did your diligent searching really slip out of your mind? It hasn’t even been a few hundred years, is your memory truly so short?"
Oh.
Oh.
There had only been one man Shi Wudu had searched so far for. Only one man on this earth he had scoured the earth in hopes of finding.
“You’re still alive?” The words slipped from Shi Wudu’s mouth.
“I’m dead!”
Shi Wudu’s mind was heavy. Weighed down by pain and despair, the only thing that kept him tethered to consciousness was Ming Yi — no, He Xuan’s — grip on his hair. His scalp was torn open. Rivulets of blood dripped from his chin.
Shi Wudu didn’t dare breathe. But he inhaled as he felt He Xuan’s cold breath graze his ear.
Up close, his skin was too pale, teeth too sharp, pupils too wide.
Shi Wudu would gladly drown in those eyes.
“I fell for you, you know,” He Xuan whispered.
“But you never loved me, did you?” He Xuan traced a nail down Shi Wudu’s jaw, following the drops of blood.
Shi Wudu wouldn’t let himself cry. He opened his eyes wide, to let them dry, closed his eyes, to hide.
Shi Wudu’s throat constricted, and yet those horrid words slipped by.
“I’ve always loved you.”
Ling Wen would be lying if she said she knew.
Ming Yi had played his role too well. Sticking to Shi Qingxuan and hiding in her shadow. He knew how to craft a personality, and how to remain hidden. Clones across every god’s palace, all similarly hidden.
But Ling Wen oversaw all the records. Ling Wen kept track of everything, from finances to new deputy officials appointed. She should have seen, she should have noticed the discrepancies. She had walked on the uneven road that led to He Xuan’s lies, and yet she hadn’t noticed a single pothole.
So now she stood behind him, a dagger hidden in her sleeve. Pei Ming by her side, confidence thrumming through her veins.
Pei Ming stepped forward, but Ling Wen pulled him back.
“Don’t,” she whispered.
Shi Wudu was crying. Tears mingled with blood as it ran down his face. He Xuan held him close, nails digging into the god’s flesh.
The two were alone in the world — but alone together. So absorbed in each other, in their vengeance and wrongdoings, that they didn’t notice the two gods.
The two gods drew closer. Silent footsteps rang only in their heads, an illusion of sound. Ling Wen pulled the dagger into her hand. She held the dark metal between fingertips calloused by years of writing.
She nodded to Pei Ming.
Showtime.
Shi Wudu couldn’t, wouldn’t, remember what happened next. A blur of blood seen through a screen of tears. Shouting and a flash of light. Back in the heavenly capital — safe, but no where would ever be safe again.
Tears had stopped running from his eyes. They had dried, like a puddle the day after a storm. The dirt beneath was still damp, but you would only find moisture if you dug deep.
Shi Wudu had fallen for a mask. A perfect, porcelin, doll. And when it shattered, the monster that lay within devoured him alive.
Shi Wudu hadn’t left his palace for days. He lay in the light, in the silence. He flinched at the slightest drop of a hairpin, he shied away from the shadows.
In case the monster was still lurking in the background noise, in case it still hid in crevices he could not see.
He Xuan had not truly died. His ashes still lay on the sea floor, concealed by algae and fish bones. He lay in wait, away from the heavens. Away from a place he had once called home, but never truly lived in.
He hid beneath silent waves, chasing lightbeams that shone in the sea light.
He Xuan had hoped and wished Shi Wudu was innocent — that he was truly ignorant of his crimes. But revenge is the hardest when you love the one who hurt you.
He Xuan had fallen for a man that loved his facade.
And he broke that facade, even though he loved that man.