Work Text:
The morning sunlight poured through the palace windows, washing the small space in a soft, golden hue. Thin whisps of incense smoke drifted in the quiet air like tworling spirits. On the wooden table, Xie Lian was folding his robes, neatly setting aside a few scrolls and a small pouch of coins.
“Gege, are you going somewhere?” Hua Cheng’s lazy voice drifted from the doorway, rich with fond amusement.
Xie Lian turned with a smile. “Mm. The Heavenly Capital. There’s a few temple matters I must attend to. It will take only a few days.”
Hua Cheng tilted his head. “Must you go alone? I could-”
“It’s all right,” Xie Lian interrupted gently. “Just small errands. I’ll be back before you miss me.”
Hua Cheng’s eye softened, though his lips quirked with that playful smirk that always set Xie Lian’s heart fluttering. “Gege, I miss you even when you’re beside me.”
Xie Lian’s ears reddened instantly. “San Lang!"
Hua Cheng only chuckled and leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, watching as Xie Lian adjusted his sash and tightened his hair ribbon. “Then hurry back. Ghost City feels dull when you’re not in it.”
Xie Lian smiled faintly. “I’ll do my best.”
And with that, he ascended.
---
In truth, Xie Lian’s “errands” had nothing to do with heavenly business. Hua Cheng’s birthday was approaching again, though Hua Cheng himself would likely never celebrate it if left alone, ever since xie lian had entered ghost city he made sure hua cheng participated in the grand, city wide celebration of his birthday.
The problem was, what could he possibly give the Ghost King who already had everything? This question ate him every birthday
He thought of asking Mu Qing and Feng Xin, his oldest companions, for advice. They had, after all, spent years watching his hopeless attempts at gift-giving. Perhaps now they could help.
---
The Heavenly Capital was bustling as ever. As soon as Xie Lian arrived, he was met with the familiar bickering.
“Your Highness, you’re still terrible at planning ahead,” Feng Xin sighed, crossing his arms. “You always wait until the last minute.”
Mu Qing gave a sharp look. “And you’re asking us? For his gift?”
“Ahaha,” Xie Lian laughed awkwardly. “Well, San Lang has been very kind lately, and I just thought-"
“You think too much,” Mu Qing muttered, but his expression softened. “However, I did recently hear of, a sword- rare, ancient, and said to mirror its owner’s soul. It’s hidden somewjere in the southern forest..”
Feng Xin nodded. “It’s not easy to find, but you can handle yourself. Still, it’s not something you can just buy.”
“I don’t mind searching,” Xie Lian said earnestly. “If it’s something San Lang might like, I’ll find it.”
---
Two days later, the forest swallowed him whole.
The air was thick with mist and whispering spirits. The deeper he went, the darker the sky grew, until the light dimmed to silver shadows. Twice he fought off stray resentful ghosts. Once, he slipped on wet stone and tumbled into a ravine.
By the time he found the sword’s resting place - lodged in a boulder beside a dying tree - his robe was slightly torn, his cheek a little bruised, and a faint stain of blood seeped though the robes of his upper arm.
Still, when his fingers brushed the sword’s hilt, a faint hum of energy answered him.
The blade was beautiful - clear as crystal and sharp, glimmering faintly with a light that reminded him of moonlight on water.
Perfect, he thought, smiling through the exhaustion. Just like San Lang.
---
The day of Hua Cheng’s birthday came like quiet dawn over Ghost City.
Hua Cheng, though not one for ceremony, allowed it for his gege's sake.
Paradise Manor gleamed under the crimson glow of lanterns, every corridor bathed in a soft warmth that reflected Hua Cheng’s presence. Though the Ghost King claimed to dislike grand occasions, this evening was different, it was his birthday, and Xie Lian had always insisted that they host a celebration.
Guests had come bearing gifts: boxes of rare treasures, fine wines, weapons, and jewelry that glittered like stars. Hua Cheng accepted each one with polite indifference, his red robes flowing behind him like liquid flame.
But when a streak of black entered the hall, Hua Cheng’s expression cooled.
Mu Qing, immaculate as always, strode through the doors, two underlings following behind. One carried a closed chest; the other, a long glass box within which rested a sword. The blade shimmered faintly, pale light rippling across its surface.
“Your Highness,” Mu Qing greeted curtly, bowing first to Xie Lian, then stiffly to Hua Cheng. “A delivery.”
Xie Lian smiled nervously. “Ah, thank you, Mu Qing.”
He had arranged for Mu Qing to bring the sword personally, to keep the surprise intact until the right moment. The sword was special, found after two days of travel and searching, the result of scraped hands, a bruised shoulder, and one very close call with a vengeful spirit.
He wanted to see San Lang’s face when he opened it.
Instead
Hua Cheng’s eye fell on the sword and narrowed.
“Mu Qing,” he said, voice lazy, sharp. “I see even the stoic general brings gifts now. What, trying to curry favor?”
Mu Qing’s brows drew together. “I’m only delivering what I was asked to.”
“Oh?” Hua Cheng’s lips curved into a grin that didn’t reach his eye. “Then this-” he gestured at the sword, “-is from you?”
Mu Qing didn’t answer. Xie Lian opened his mouth, but Hua Cheng was already speaking.
“Aiyah, truly typical,” Hua Cheng drawled. “Pretentious, polished, shallow. Just like its supposed owner.”
The hall went silent.
Hua Cheng’s voice, smooth as silk, carried an edge sharp enough to cut air.
“Look at that blade, Gege,” he said to Xie Lian, tilting his head toward the glass box. “Pretty enough, but useless. Too light for real combat, too fragile for parry or strike. The kind of weapon a person picks when he’s more concerned with appearances than strength.”
“San Lang-” Xie Lian began softly, but Hua Cheng continued, unaware.
“I bet it’s decorative, gege. Maybe meant for a wall, to collect dust among other trophies.” He smirked faintly. “Ah, that fits, doesn’t it? Some people have to decorate to feel powerful.”
Mu Qing’s jaw tightened.
“San Lang, please,” Xie Lian tried again, but Hua Cheng waved a hand.
“Really, Gege, it's quite an an eyesore. Even the handle screams of vanity, look at that filigree, the overdone carvings. It’s laughable. General Mu Qing if you wanted to impress me, you might as well have sent a mirror. Atleast I could admire something more handsome then.”
The few ghosts nearby laughed out loud, supporting their lord as he laid into the heavenly official
Mu Qing’s underlings stiffened, glancing nervously between the two gods.
“San Lang,” Xie Lian said quickly, voice strained, “that’s-”
But before he could finish, Mu Qing cut in, his tone cold and sharp as frost.
“Enough.”
The word sliced through the hall like a drawn blade.
Hua Cheng tilted his head,, one brow raised in irritation. “What?”
“Shut your mouth if you don’t know everything,” Mu Qing said flatly. “That sword isn’t mine.”
Hua Cheng paused.
Mu Qing continued, calm but deadly precise. “It is a gift hs highness found for you. He spent two days tracking it down, fought three minor spirits, crossed half a forest, and tore his shoulder open hauling it back. He only left it with me so you wouldn’t find it early and ruin the surprise.”
The silence that followed was absolute.
Even the lanterns seemed to dim.
Hua Cheng stared, his usual composure collapsing in an instant. “…What?”
Mu Qing exhaled slowly, almost enjoying it, though his gaze softened when he turned toward Xie Lian. “He got hurt and bled for it, you know. And yet you stand here insulting him to his face. Some devotion, Ghost King.”
Hua Cheng’s blood ran cold, as cold as a ghosts blood could.
He turned slowly, looking at Xie Lian, who stood beside him, face pale, lips pressed into a smile hua chneg couldn't read.
“Ahaha,” Xie Lian laughed softly, though his voice cracked. “It’s nothing like that, Mu Qing. San Lang didn’t know. I should’ve said something sooner.”
Hua Cheng’s heart clenched painfully.
“Gege…” His voice broke, unsteady. “You, you went through all that? For me?”
Xie Lian only smiled, faint and awkward. “I just wanted to give you something you’d like. But perhaps I chose poorly again.”
His gaze dropped, lashes trembling. “It’s my fault. I’ll find a better gift next time.”
“No.”
The single word escaped Hua Cheng like a prayer.
He reached out, but hesitated, as though he no longer deserved to touch him. “Gege, don’t say that. Please.”
Mu Qing crossed his arms, unimpressed but no longer hostile. “If you’re done embarrassing yourself, I’ll leave you two to clean this up.”
He turned to go, but not before adding pointedly, “Try not to trample over your lover’s efforts next time.”
And with that, he was gone.
The hall doors closed behind him.
---
For a long moment, there was silence, only the faint hum of the sword within its case.
Then Hua Cheng turned fully to Xie Lian, his usual self-assured smile nowhere to be seen.
“Gege,” he said softly, almost hoarsely, “I’m sorry.”
Xie Lian blinked. “San Lang-”
“I didn’t mean a word of what I said.” Hua Cheng’s hands clenched at his sides. “I thought it was from him. I thought-" He stopped, inhaled sharply. “I wanted to sound clever in front of you. I didn’t think.”
He stepped closer, red eye burning with guilt. “You went through all that trouble- fought, bled, searched- and I called it worthless.”
Xie Lian tried to speak, but Hua Cheng kept going, his voice low and desperate.
“You could’ve given me a broken pebble from the roadside and it would’ve been a treasure. And I mocked this. You must think I’m-”
“San Lang,” Xie Lian interrupted, reaching out to touch his arm. “It’s all right.”
“No, Gege.” Hua Cheng caught his hand, eyes glimmering like molten silver. “It’s not.”
He dropped to one knee before him, head bowed. “I was wrong. I insulted what you offered with your heart. If you wish to strike me, I won’t stop you.”
“Strike you?” Xie Lian said, startled. “San Lang, don’t be ridiculous.”
But Hua Cheng’s face twisted with guilt. “You even got hurt.”
He reached up hesitantly, fingertips brushing the faint scar near Xie Lian’s shoulder through his robe- so light, it was more reverent than touch.
“That’s why you flinched when I teased you earlier,” he murmured. “You are still hurt!.”
Xie Lian flushed, averting his gaze. “It wasn’t serious. Just a scrape.”
“That’s not the point.” Hua Cheng’s voice trembled. “You risked yourself for me. And I mocked it.”
Xie Lian exhaled slowly, then smiled, small, gentle, but genuine this time.
“You didn’t know,” he said softly. “And I didn’t tell you. Let’s not dwell on it, San Lang.”
Hua Cheng shook his head, still kneeling, still holding Xie Lian’s hand as if it might vanish.
“I’ll never forgive myself if you do.”
“Then,” Xie Lian said after a pause, his tone teasing but kind, “I suppose I’ll have to forgive you first, so you can stop punishing yourself.”
That drew a faint, broken laugh from Hua Cheng.
He rose, slowly, carefully, and lifted the sword’s glass case. Inside, the blade shimmered faintly, clear as water, sharp as starlight.
“This,” he said quietly, “is the most precious thing I’ve ever received.”
Xie Lian tilted his head. “Really?”
“Really,” Hua Cheng said. “Because it’s from you. And because I was too much of a fool to see it at first.”
He looked down at the blade, then smiled faintly. “I’ll cherish it forever. Even if I never draw it.”
Xie Lian blinked, touched despite himself. “…San Lang.”
Hua Cheng turned back, his grin returning, soft now, humble, adoring. “Next year, Gege, don’t wander through forests and fight ghosts for me. If I want to see stars, I’ll just look at you.”
Xie Lian groaned quietly. “That line was terrible.”
“But true,” Hua Cheng replied easily, stepping forward and pressing their foreheads together.
“Gege,” he whispered, “thank you. For the sword. For the thought. For everything.”
Xie Lian smiled, voice barely above a breath. “As long as you like it.”
“I love it,” Hua Cheng said simply. “And I love you more.”
Outside, the lanterns of Ghost City flickered softly, like countless red butterflies taking flight.
And somewhere, in the Heavenly Capital, Mu Qing sneezed once, muttered something about idiotic couples, and decided that maybe it had been worth delivering the gift himself after all.