Work Text:
For three days straight, Puqi Shrine had been unusually peaceful.
No bandits.
No cursed items.
Not even a person from the nearby village requesting a midnight exorcism.
Xie Lian should have known this calm was suspicious.
He was sweeping the courtyard when a cold wind swept across the gravel, raising the hairs on his arms. It wasn’t the gentle breeze of afternoon or the sharp edge of a storm, this was the cold of deep sea currents brushing against his soul.
Xie Lian straightened. “San Lang…?”
Hua Cheng materialized at his side in the effortless way he always did, a small smile curving at his mouth.
“Gege,” he murmured. “He Xuan is here.”
Xie Lian blinked. “He Xuan? After all this time?”
Hua Cheng didn’t answer, because the air shifted again, and a tall figure stepped across the threshold of Puqi Shrine.
He Xuan.
Black hair tied loosely behind him, robes swept by a faint mist, expression the same infuriatingly calm indifference he’d always worn. He paused just inside the courtyard, gaze sweeping over Hua Cheng and Xie Lian with unreadable disinterest.
But he wasn’t alone.Behind him, stepping lightly, was a small, pale girl about sixteen.
She was thin in the way famine left its imprint. Her jade eyes sharply swept the shrine grounds with cautious calculation. Not fear but calculation. As if she were mapping escape routes, cover points, and angles of attack all at once.
When her eyes finally me them she bowed, “Greetings, Crown Prince.”
Xie Lian was honestly surprised. Hua Cheng’s expression stayed mild, but he slightly shifted, instinctively shielding Xie Lian with half a step.
Xie Lian waved his hands quickly. “Ah—please, just Xie Lian is fine!”
She only blinked at him with grave seriousness.
He Xuan stepped forward. “…This is Mu Xiyan.”
The girl dipped her head slightly, “Hua Chengzhu.”
Xie Lian smiled gently while his husband only stared at the pale maiden, “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mu-guniang. Are you… traveling with He—”
“She follows me,” He Xuan cut in, tone flat but not annoyed. “I did not invite her.”
Xiyan made no move to dispute this.
Hua Cheng raised a brow. “She’s a ghost.”
“Savage-rank,” He Xuan confirmed, as casually as one might announce the weather.
Xie Lian stared. “She’s so young…” Being a savage-rank ghost meant her power was fierce and dangerous. At full strength, she could destroy an entire village and even shift her form to attack or hide. Yet her abilities were unstable, driven more by instinct than skill, and she could be killed relatively easily. Supreme ghosts, by contrast, were controlled and enduring; their essence could only be destroyed if their ashes were completely annihilated. Compared to them, Mu Xiyan’s strength was intense but fragile. a force to be feared, yet vulnerable.
It was no surprise, then, that she remained so guarded around them.
He Xuan continued with no elaboration. “She hasn’t caused trouble. Yet.”
Xie Lian cleared his throat. “Well then… would you both like to come inside for tea?”
He Xuan didn’t object, so he accepted. Xiyan followed him like a silent shadow.
And Xie Lian, watching their steps, noted a detail neither of them mentioned:
She never walked in front of He Xuan, never beside. Always behind, one precise step out of striking range, but close enough to avoid losing him.
Like someone following a lifeline.
And the realization sparked faint unease in him.
Inside the shrine, Xie Lian prepared tea while Hua Cheng observed their guests.
He Xuan sat with effortless stillness, gaze forward, not sparing a glance toward the pastries Xie Lian set on the table.
Xiyan, on the other hand… stared at the food as if witnessing divine light. Xie Lian smiled warmly. “Please, help yourself.”
She hesitated—not with shyness, but calculation—before taking exactly one pastry, small and cautious.
Then she devoured it in three bites.
Xie Lian froze in surprise.
Hua Cheng’s brow rose very slightly.
He Xuan sighed quietly, as if this had been happening for days.
Xiyan wiped her mouth with flawless etiquette… and immediately reached for another pastry, swiftly, as if worried someone would notice.
Xie Lian couldn’t help it, he laughed softly. “That mannerism… it reminds me a little of…”
He stopped. Hua Cheng immediately turned to him. “Gege?”
“Oh, nothing…” Xie Lian coughed lightly because it reminded him exactly of someone.
And combined with the way she spoke, the way she bowed to him as Crown Prince, the way she quietly watched every exit in the room—
Xie Lian felt a hunch forming, unwelcome and sharp.
A hunch with the surname: Mu.
He poured more tea. “Mu Xiyan… where are your parents?”
Xiyan’s fingers tightened around her cup, but her expression did not change, “I don’t remember.”
Hua Cheng lifted an eyebrow—not at her words, but at the blatant lie. Xie Lian hid a frown behind a sip of tea, “Ah… forgive the question.”
She nodded once, expression returning to its blank, guarded neutrality.
Hua Cheng spoke, voice smooth, “Why are you following He Xuan?”
Xiyan didn’t look at him. She glanced instead at He Xuan’s sleeve, “…I am searching for someone.”
He Xuan gave a quiet huff, “And for some reason she decided I was a useful guide.”
“Because Great Lord He Xuan wanders many realms. I thought… I might encounter someone from my past.” Xiyan lowered her gaze.
Xie Lian’s heart squeezed. Hua Cheng’s eyes narrowed slightly—not suspicious, but thoughtful.
He Xuan added, “I told her I had no interest in her personal matters. She followed anyway.”
“So you let her?” Hua Cheng asked.
He Xuan rolled his eyes. “She wasn’t doing harm. And she doesn’t talk.”
Xiyan blinked. “…I talk.”
“Too much,” He Xuan deadpanned.
“I only asked where the Heavenly Capital was,” she protested quietly.
“You asked eight times.”
Xiyan went silent.
Xie Lian laughed weakly, failing to hide how tender he suddenly felt toward her. Beside him Hua Cheng silently smirked from the revelation he just realized.
And then it clicked.
They knew.
They knew so well what she was searching for.
He Xuan had unwittingly dragged the lost sister of a Heavenly Official into their lap.
But as Xie Lian’s revelation settled—
A loud bang shook Puqi Shrine.
The front doors burst open.
“Your Highness!” Feng Xin called, stepping inside. “We came to give you—”
Mu Qing stepped in behind him. “Shut that mouth will y—”
His voice cut off.
His eyes froze.
Because standing beside He Xuan, holding an unfinished bun, was a girl he had last seen centuries ago.
A girl whose birthday he still remembered, though no one asked him to. The same one he had mourned in the quiet of the old training grounds, believing she was dead.
Mu Xiyan.
The bun slipped from her fingers.
“Ge…?”
Her voice was soft. Uncertain. Fragile.
Mu Qing’s jaw tightened but he didn’t lunge forward.
He didn’t shout.
He didn’t break.
His entire reaction, a lifetime of restraint condensed, was a single controlled breath as he stepped toward her, “…You’re alive?”
Xiyan stiffened at the question.
He Xuan set his teacup down with a quiet clink.
“She is dead,” He Xuan corrected. “Obviously.”
Mu Qing shot him an icy glare. Xie Lian hurried between them. “Mu Qing, wait—please, let her speak—”
Xiyan bowed her head, voice low. “I apologize, gege.”
Mu Qing inhaled sharply, but his voice stayed calm, “You apologize… for dying?” She flinched.
“…I apologize for hiding,” she whispered. “I… I didn’t want you to look for me. Or blame yourself.”
Mu Qing’s eyes flickered—a microsecond of pain, “So all along you followed him instead?” His gaze slid to He Xuan, sharp and unforgiving.
He Xuan raised his hands lazily. “She followed me. I didn’t encourage it.”
Xiyan bowed her head lower. “…He didn’t even talk to me most days.”
“Correct,” He Xuan added.
“Except when teaching me how not to be eaten.”
“That,” He Xuan admitted, “was necessary. You had the survival instincts of a fish.”
Xiyan’s cheeks warmed with embarrassed anger. “…I was new.” Mu Qing looked between them with a stare that said he was one second from arresting a Supreme on charges of being involved with his sister.
Feng Xin leaned toward Hua Cheng, whispering, “This… looks like trouble.”
Hua Cheng smirked. “Quite entertaining, actually.”
Xie Lian sighed deeply.
“Mu Qing… she only followed He Xuan recently because she was trying to find you.”
Mu Qing froze, Xiyan closed her eyes, small shoulders trembling. “…I didn’t know how to reach the Heavenly Capital,” she whispered. “But a Supreme would know the realms. I thought… if I followed silently, one day he might cross paths with you.”
Mu Qing’s eyes softened—barely, but unmistakably.
Xie Lian could see the war playing in his heart.
Anger. Relief. Guilt. A fear so old it no longer had words.
He took one step toward her.
Xiyan flinched like a startled bird.
“I won’t scold you,” Mu Qing said quietly. “Not now.” Her eyes lifted, surprised. Mu Qing drew in a breath he’d been holding for years, “…Come here.”
Xiyan hesitated.
Then walked to him.
Slow. Careful.
As if approaching a memory she feared would vanish.
When she finally stood before him, Mu Qing reached out, still composed and placed a hand on her head. Xiyan choked on a breath.
Mu Qing cleared his throat and said, in a voice rougher than it should have been: “You… you’re safe now.”
Xiyan blinked rapidly, hands twisting her sleeves, “Gege… I’m not alive.”
“That,” Mu Qing said tightly, “changes nothing.”
He Xuan sipped his tea, unimpressed.
Hua Cheng leaned into Xie Lian, whispering, “That’s the crybaby i know from centuries ago.” Xie Lian elbowed him gently.
And Feng Xin, muttered, “Good grief… I thought today was going to be simple.” But the reunion was not done.
Because Xie Lian still sensed something heavy beneath Xiyan’s silence, something she had not yet revealed.
Something dark. Something about how she died.
And He Xuan… knew more than he said.
The courtyard had finally settled into a quiet that felt too fragile to disturb.
Mu Qing still stood with his hand resting lightly on Mu Xiyan’s head, as if afraid that removing it would make her disappear again. Xiyan stayed absolutely still, not frozen in fear, but soaking in the simple warmth of being recognized.
After a long moment, she stepped back.
She bowed deeply towards Black Water, “Lord He Xuan… thank you.”
He Xuan blinked once, slow. “For what?”
“For letting me follow you.” she raised her head, eyes steady but soft. “For letting me stay alive.”
He Xuan huffed. “You were already dead.”
She shook her head. “I mean… you taught me how not to be destroyed. You didn’t have to. You still did.”
He Xuan looked vaguely irritated, but not the kind of irritated that meant he wanted her gone. More like the irritated of a man who was being thanked for something he preferred not to acknowledge.
“You tried to fight a man barehanded,” He Xuan said. “who was out to kill you.”
Xiyan flushed slightly. “I was… new.”
Mu Qing’s eyes snapped to her. “You WHAT—”
He Xuan lifted a finger. “Quiet.”
Mu Qing instantly bristled. “Don’t tell me to—”
“Quiet,” He Xuan repeated calmly. “She didn’t die. And I’m not repeating the story.” Mu Qing’s jaw worked silently.
Feng Xin whispered to Xie Lian, “He looks two seconds from bursting a vein.”
Hua Cheng smirked. “Such a scene to watch, i’m getting bored at watching the deadbeat dad and him banter honestly.”
Xie Lian shot them both a mild, pleading look.
Meanwhile, Xiyan took a small step forward. She looked at He Xuan with a seriousness no sixteen-year-old should ever have learned.
“You didn’t owe me protection,” she said quietly. “I wasn’t your responsibility.”
“Still aren’t,” He Xuan replied.
“Yes.” She smiled faintly, almost shyly. “That’s why I’m grateful.”
He Xuan paused.
Not visibly moved.
Not flustered.
Just… still.
Xiyan bowed again, not fragile, but strong, deliberate. A warrior’s bow.
“I’m going with my brother now,” she said softly. “But… may I visit?”
Mu Qing stiffened beside her. “Visit—? Xiyan, you can’t just wander around sup—”
“Fine.”
Everyone was stunned.
He Xuan had already stood, robes falling into place with cold grace.
“You can visit,” he repeated. “If you insist.”
Xiyan’s eyes lit with a quiet, blooming relief. “I do.”
“Good.” He Xuan adjusted his sleeves. “Just don’t follow me between realms anymore. I don’t have time to drag you away from dangers you didn’t see.”
Xiyan nodded firmly. “I’ll be careful.”
“You said that last time.”
Xiyan looked away. “…I will be more careful.”
Mu Qing pinched the bridge of his nose. “I cannot believe this.”
He Xuan turned to him, “You. Don’t let her wander alone. She attracts trouble.”
Mu Qing bristled again. “I am aware.”
“Are you?” He Xuan’s tone was dry. “She followed a Supreme for a month rather than ask the Heavenly Capital for directions.”
Xiyan sputtered. “I didn’t know how to enter the Heavenly Capital! I’m not a high-ranking ghost—!”
“You could have asked literally anyone,” He Xuan replied.
She looked away, cheeks reddening. “…They all looked busy.” Mu Qing breathed in slowly, as if counting numbers to maintain composure.
Xie Lian intervened gently. “Well… none of it matters now. Xiyan has found Mu Qing. And He Xuan has been very… unexpectedly kind.”
He Xuan clicked his tongue. “I wasn’t kind. She was just—small. And clueless.”
Xiyan puffed her cheeks. “I was surviving!”
“Barely.”
Mu Qing stepped between them, expression sharp. “Lord He Xuan. Regardless of what you call it… thank you. For not letting her be destroyed.”
It was formal. Restrained. The most Mu Qing could bring himself to express in public.
He Xuan accepted it with equal restraint.
“You owe me nothing,” he said simply. “She decided on her own.”
“Even so,” Mu Qing insisted, voice low. “I thank you.”
He Xuan gave a small nod.
Xie Lian clasped his hands. “Mu Qing, what will you do now?”
Mu Qing looked at his sister—the thinness in her arms, the faint marks left by past struggles, the way she swayed ever so slightly like she wasn’t used to safety anymore, “…I’m taking her back to my palace,” he said simply. “Immediately.”
Xiyan blinked. “Right now?”
“Yes.”
“But—I wanted to say a proper goodbye to Lord He—”
He Xuan cut in. “You already thanked me.”
Xiyan blinked, then nodded. “Then…”
She looked at Mu Qing.
A small, hopeful smile touched her lips, “Let’s go home, gege.”
Mu Qing inhaled deeply, steeling himself, then nodded once. “Mn.”
He wonders if his mother was still alive, would she be happy that Xiyan still existed in this world or nag at him for being such a neglectful brother by letting her youngest child wander with a supreme ghost.
Xiyan turned one last time toward He Xuan.
“Lord He Xuan.”
He looked down at her, arms folded loosely. “Visit,” he said. Not a question, a command.
Xiyan’s smile widened into something bright, genuine, once lost in death and returned now in the presence of those who still cared, “I will.”
He Xuan flicked his fingers. “Good.”
A pale mist swirled around him and vanished before Xie Lian could even blink.
He Xuan was gone.