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“Are you sure you’re alright?” Xie Lian asked.
Hua Cheng’s response was muffled. His face lay deep in the fabric covering Xie Lian’s thighs as he sat, knees apart, on the edge of the bed.
“San Lang, I can’t — Ah!” He gasped, feeling a hand crawl from his calf, to a higher vantage point. Xie Lian dug his hand down, wedging it between himself and his husband. He cradled Hua Cheng’s chin in his hand and wordlessly stared down with a look of mild concern.
Hua Cheng huffed. One might say he pouted, but that one would never be the man himself. “Gege, I’m fine. Why do you ask?”
Xie Lian’s brow creased. “You’re never this warm… And you’ve been sneezing all day. Maybe we should rest tonight. It’s very unlike you, and we have been on the road for quite some time.”
It was true. They both had work to do further west, and despite Xie Lian’s luck being free to flow for centuries now, he still ran into enough trouble that his work was almost doubled upon arrival. Once his own task was handled, Hua Cheng met back up with him and did what he could to help.
Things had changed over the years. Technology advanced, and they had to be more careful when taking on what the common people may consider ‘the supernatural’. This meant using a bit more spiritual power than normal to properly hide any evidence before, during, and after altercations on the job. It was annoying, but nothing they couldn’t handle.
Or, so they thought.
Xie Lian mulled it over in his mind. Technically, both of their work loads doubled on their trip, but Hua Cheng was also providing him with the extra spiritual power. The trip was tiring outside of work as well. Mei Nianqing insisted they stop by on their way home, and a full game of cards with that man was far more draining than any monster. Not to mention the other monster still sealed in the mountain with Xie Lian’s old master. His bite was no longer potent at all, but that didn’t mean things weren’t incredibly awkward.
Even the common people could tell you how much energy one awkward conversation can sap away from any being, no matter how powerful.
“I feel fine.” Hua Cheng repeated earnestly. He stared up at Xie Lian, chin still cradled in his hand. “I’m only warm because I’m thinking about you, and when you touch me, I get even warmer.”
The concern quickly faded from Xie Lian’s face as he puffed out a laugh. “You’ve tried that one on me before. Did you think I would forget after all these years?”
“Of course not. Gege’s memory is as strong as ever.”
“And yet you still want me to believe it?”
“Maybe Gege’s pity for this one has grown stronger as well.”
“San Lang is like a child. Only wanting the pity that gains him treats instead of the pity that gains him health.”
Hua Cheng circled his arms around Xie Lian’s waist, still kneeling in between his legs, and nipped at his pants zipper. “This would greatly aid in my health, I assure you.”
Xie Lian sighed, trying to hide his reddening face with exasperation. “It has been some time… I guess —”
He was never able to finish his sentence as Hua Cheng sprang up and pounced on him like a fox in the snow. They tumbled for hours through the night, Xie Lian swearing that it seemed like Hua Cheng was going harder than usual as if to prove to him and the world he was in full health.
He was not sick!
—
Hua Cheng got sick.
Not a light head cold or anything that could be passed off as hay fever. He was SICK sick. So sick, in fact, he lacked any spiritual powers. Whatever he’d topped Xie Lian off with the night before seemed to be the last of it, and Xie Lian was just thankful his husband hadn’t burst into a cloud of butterflies again.
“San Lang…”
The bundle of blankets next to him didn’t move.
“San Lang, please. Ah, I knew this would happen. San Lang, you need to take some medicine.”
A sleepy red face poked out of the blankets. Hua Cheng’s hair sat uncharacteristically messy upon his head, his single eye was unfocused with a dark circle underneath, and his lips looked a bit chapped. “Gege is so far away.” Hua Cheng rasped.
“Gege is right here,” Xie Lian replied, adjusting Hua Cheng’s soft sleep eyepatch and brushing back his sweaty bangs.
“But you won’t be for long,” Hua Cheng pouted.
Xie Lian sighed. He had another big assignment come up, and according to Ling Wen, there was no getting out of it. He’d gotten a message early that morning just before finding his sick husband passed out next to him.
If he didn’t need to go out, he could have at least transferred back half his spiritual power, but now he needed as much as he could get for his assignment. Not to mention, Hua Cheng was too stubborn to accept a transfer from anyone else.
It was an unfortunate combination of events.
The morning sun poked its way through the blinds of their bedroom window and Xie Lian looked at his watch. Two arms wrapped their way around his waist as if sensing it was time for him to leave.
“Gege, stay,” He whispered, “the heavens would be better off sacrificing someone useless to take care of your work. They have plenty of candidates up there.”
“Don’t be rude,” Xie Lian scolded.
Hua Cheng looked at him with one big unfocused pleading eye.
“This assignment won't take long, and if I leave, it means I can pick up your favorite takeout for dinner.”
“Or you tell Ling Wen to piss off and we order it now for delivery,” Hua Cheng said, squeezing Xie Lian a bit tighter. It sounded as though he was about to make another comment when he was wracked by a sudden coughing fit. His arms quickly retracted from Xie Lian and he turned as far away as he could to redirect himself.
Taking advantage of the opportunity, Xie Lian slipped off the bed and made his way towards the door. Hua Cheng finished his cough and looked back up pathetically.
“It’s only for the day,” Xie Lian soothed, “Like I said, I’ll be back for dinner with your favorite takeout.”
Hua Cheng’s body ached, but he swung his long legs over the side of the bed, and slipped his slippers on to follow Xie Lian to the door. His head spun upon standing and he wrapped a blanket around his shoulders.
Their current residence was a spacious luxury apartment in the city. Hua Cheng insisted on investing in it since some of their old dwellings had been taken over by historical societies. It was almost like a full sized house sitting at the top of the building, fit with two floors, a kitchen, a sizable living and dining room, laundry, a guest room, and a nice entryway.
Xie Lian padded down the stairs and headed toward the entryway for his coat. Hua Cheng followed at a distance and pathetically whined the entire way.
“My poor San Lang,” Xie Lian cooed, grabbing his bag and making sure he had a few talismans tucked away.
Hua Cheng wordlessly scooped him into a hug as one last attempt to keep him in the apartment for the rest of the day. Xie Lian returned it, giving him a kiss on the chin.
“Don’t worry, I made sure not to leave you alone all day when you’re this under the weather.”
Hua Cheng huffed. Ah, so Yin Yu was coming over. His head pounded and the last thing he wanted was to be in the presence of anyone other than Xie Lian, but Yin Yu made a good assistant for a reason. He was quiet, minded his own business, and he could be trusted with things like this.
“Gege takes such good care of me.”
“Of course. You’re sick with no spiritual power. How could I ever leave you alone up here. Just please… be good.”
Before Hua Cheng could process Xie Lian’s words through his sickly addled mind, their doorbell rang.
Yin Yu would have waited politely for them to answer the door and invite him in, but to Hua Cheng’s horror, that didn’t happen. The door quickly swung open after the ring and in walked Feng Xin, tailed by Mu Qing carrying a small medical bag.
“Hope we’re not late,” Feng Xin said, already slipping his shoes off and plopping his backpack on the floor.
“Not at all!” Xie Lian easily turned out of the stunned Hua Cheng’s arms and moved to welcome his friends in. “I was just about to head out. Thank you both for coming in such short notice.”
Mu Qing hung his coat in the closet and brushed the snow out of his hair. “Can you give me a rundown on how he’s been feeling?”
“I’m feeling much better than you will if you don’t leave my hou—” Hua Cheng’s comment was cut short by three consecutive sneezes that left him in need of a tissue.
Xie Lian quickly fished one out of his pocket and tried to console him.
“I’m so sorry, San Lang. I know this isn’t an ideal situation, but not only are you sick – you have no spiritual powers.”
Hua Cheng glared over his head at the two intruders.
“They’re both martial gods and Mu Qing has medical knowledge.” Xie Lian continued. “This was my decision to have them come take care of you because I knew they’d be the best for you. If you want to be angry at someone, be angry at me.”
Hua Cheng’s gaze softened and he looked back down at his husband.
Feng Xin and Mu Qing finished hanging their coats up and awkwardly stood off to the side watching the couple have a quiet moment. It wasn’t long before it seemed like Crimson Rain gave in and let Xie Lian go. His dull eye followed his husband’s form sadly.
“It seems like it’s just the flu, but as I stated in my texts, he’s lacking spiritual power. Don’t bully him or each other.” Xie Lian said sternly while putting his boots on. “Ah, am I forgetting anything?”
“Only the mission you should have been on five minutes ago,” Mu Qing replied blankly.
“Right! Thanks again! I love you, San Lang!”
And with that, Xie Lian grabbed his coat and flew out the door.
Quiet fell upon the room.
Two looked at one.
One looked at two.
Mu Qing sighed. “Ok, Crimson Rain –”
“Get out.”
Feng Xin put his hands up, “Listen, we all understand how much none of us want to be in this situation.”
“Oh good,” Hua Cheng hissed, “Then you should understand why you need to get out of my house.”
“We’re not leaving.”
“Then I’ll go. There’s much better places to rot than with the two of you.” His voice still sounded rough, but the previous pathetic tone he used while talking to his husband was gone. Hua Cheng threw off his blanket and dug into his pajama pocket to retrieve two red crystalline dice. They sparkled in the light as they were tossed into the air.
Two perfect sixes landed in his palm.
Normally this would have summoned a portal door. One of which Hua Cheng could have taken to a different residence, or at least to wherever Yin Yu was currently doing work, but instead, the three men found themselves in the same predicament as before.
Two looked at one.
One looked at two.
Ah. Right. He had no spiritual power to use.
“A walk would clear my head.” Hua Cheng stated, ignoring his failed dice and heading toward his shoes.
Mu Qing picked up his medical bag again. “Take him upstairs.”
Everything about what transpired seemed out of character. Feng Xin listened to Mu Qing’s order without a second thought and moved to take the most powerful ghost king upstairs. The same ghost king he’d normally never approach for a civil conversation, let along a physical altercation. Except, unlike most days, the most powerful ghost king was about as powerful as any other mortal with the flu.
“Quit squirming or we’ll both fall down the stairs!” Feng Xin grunted, keeping his tight hold on Hua Cheng. After a brief struggle, the only way he managed to lift the other man was to knock him off balance, which was easier than expected considering how congested Hua Cheng was, and quickly get him into a fireman's carry. That way, at least one arm and one leg could be pinned down to avoid getting smacked or kicked easier.
“The only reason you’ve stayed alive is by the request of his Highness.” Hua Cheng hissed from his back.
Feng Xin swiftly kicked the bedroom door open and unceremoniously tossed Hua Cheng onto the bed. Not a second later, Hua Cheng swung around and nailed a kick directly into Feng Xin’s shin.
“FUCK!!” He yelled, doubling over. “ALWAYS WITH THE FUCKING SHIN??”
“Your ability to remember yet your inability to protect yourself from it speaks louder than your crass vocabulary.” Hua Cheng coughed, sliding back out of bed.
Mu Qing quickly intercepted him at the door allowing Feng Xin to recover and once again toss him back into bed where they wrestled for a good five minutes.
“Ugh,” Mu Qing rolled his eyes, “at this rate you’re going to wear yourself out until you pass out. Please, I just need to check you over and we’ll leave you to sleep.”
Feng Xin twisted and managed to pin Hua Cheng to the bed. “Want me to hold him down while you take his temperature?”
“Don’t you fucking dare!” Hua Cheng hissed.
Mu Qing silently looked at Feng Xin and then back down at Hua Cheng. “Calm down and I’ll kick him out.”
“What?? I’m helping!”
“Are you at this point?” Mu Qing gestured at the two men. “You’re a god and he’s basically a sick mortal. If you were helping properly I’d be downstairs reading my book by now.”
Feng Xin looked as though he was about to spit out another round of swears when Hua Cheng suddenly went limp in his hold.
Seeing that the stubborn ghost finally gave up, Mu Qing snapped his fingers at the stunned Feng Xin and silently shooed him out the door. They shared an irritated glance in passing, but held back any further arguments. Tension was already high enough between them and Hua Cheng, it didn’t need to rise between the two of them as well. Not that they usually meant any ill will towards each other anymore considering their marriage, but old habits are hard to beat.
Feng Xin now seated in the livingroom, Mu Qing turned his attention back to his patient.
Hua Cheng lay like a dead fish on top of his sheets, staring tiredly at the ceiling. Mu Qing made a mental note to go retrieve the other blanket from downstairs later.
“You should get under your blankets.”
Hua Cheng didn’t move.
Mu Qing sighed and started digging through his medical bag. He’d had his fair share of stubborn patients over his long lifetime, and he already started mentally preparing for the worst as soon as he received a text from Xie Lian begging for his assistance. All he needed to do was get a temperature, listen to his lungs – if he even used them as a dead man – and get some medicine in his stomach. Ignoring how it could be possible for a ghost king to fall ill, this should be fairly easy.
He quickly found his thermometer and stethoscope and stood back up. “Come on. If you aren’t going to get under the blankets yet, can you sit on the edge of the bed to make this easier?”
To his surprise, Hua Cheng listened this time, slowly moving his aching body to sit up and position himself on the edge of the bed… Except he decided to roll to the far end of the king sized bed and park himself with his back to Mu Qing.
“I need you to be on this end and face me,” Mu Qing said, shoving down his rising anger. He was not going to let Crimson Rain get the best of him. Especially considering he was supposed to be there helping him.
“And why would anyone want to do that?” Hua Cheng asked as if the request was to face a pile of shit and not one of his husband’s friends. To him they might as well have been the same.
“What, are you afraid of the doctors?”
He must have been losing steam because all Mu Qing got in response was a stink eye. He did put up quite a fight afterall, and in his condition, it was a surprise he hadn't already passed out.
Seeing that egging him on didn’t work as well as Mu Qing had hoped, he decided to change tactics.
His voice softened. “Crimson rain, please?” He patted the bed closest to him. “I know how much his highness would like for you to feel better. Can we agree to collaborate on his behalf? Again, I only need a few things from you and I’ll be out of your hair.”
It was like coaxing a child. Fix your tone, cater to their interests, and promise a reward. Hundreds of years had passed, but Mu Qing still remembered his experience taking care of all the street children in his area. From cuts and bruises, to illnesses just like Hua Cheng’s. There may have even been one or two moments when he’d tried helping small Hong’er himself. After all, he never seemed to be lacking in cuts and bruises back then. He was always too skittish though, and it looked like not much had changed. Once out of fear and now out of pride – possibly something else as well.
“For Xie Lian, I will. But I still hate you..” Hua Cheng said softly as to not hurt his voice anymore.
Ah, there it was.
He slowly rose from the bed, opting to walk around and sit back down instead of rolling. Everything ached from the fever and it took everything in him just to make it back in front of Mu Qing.
Hua Cheng sat, eyeing the stethoscope. He wouldn’t admit it, especially not to Mu Qing, but doctors did make him quite nervous. He didn’t have much experience with them outside of when he was a child. They didn’t do much for him except claim he was a monster and refuse to treat him. Sometimes he even wondered if they would experiment on him.
“I’m going to listen to your lungs,” Mu Qing explained. He put the stethoscope on and gave the diaphragm a quick warm up in his hand.
Hua Cheng kept a bleary eye trained on him but allowed him to move his hand behind his back.
“AH!”
Mu Qing jumped. “What??”
“It’s cold.” Hua Cheng barely hid a smirk.
Mu Qing rolled his eyes. “It won’t last long. Breathe in for me — and back out. Good. And again.”
His lungs sounded congested and on his third breath, Hua Cheng broke into a coughing fit. Mu Qing retreated, having gotten what he needed, and gave the other man some space. One check down, two to go. He disinfected his stethoscope and stored it away, grabbing the thermometer next, but still holding back.
Hua Cheng continued coughing, and in his daze, decided to crawl back under the blankets. Mu Qing silently watched him and thanked the heavens he wouldn’t have to try and get him to lay down himself. Once Hua Cheng got comfortable again it was easy to see he looked worse than before. Sweat beaded on his forehead, his eye looked even more unfocused, and his brow creased, signaling a bad headache.
Seeing him like this, Mu Qing decided it was time to break the silence and finish up.
“So…why do you hate me again?”
Hua Cheng furrowed his brow even more. “You hurt Xie Lian.”
“I hadn’t meant to. Sometimes people have to mind themselves before they can take care of the people around them.”
Hua Cheng’s eye cracked open and he glared at Mu Qing. “A poor excuse.” Suddenly he sat back up, taken by another sneezing fit.
“You’re a poor excuse right now.” Mu Qing scoffed, leaning away from the spray.
Hua Cheng whipped around, anger emanating through his illness. “Xie Lian may have forgiven you so easily but I never will!”
“good, so we can finally agree on something.”
“What?”
“You think I forgave myself for that? It was a bad situation and it wasn’t handled well. I didn’t forgive myself, I learned from that event, and I moved forward.” Mu Qing replied sternly.
Hua Cheng clamped his mouth shut, but continued to glare at him.
“I know you tend to lump Feng Xin and I together, but don’t assume I’m as meat headed as him! I’m aware of how things were!” Mu Qing continued, letting his anger get the best of him.
Not wanting to continue arguing, Hua Cheng huffed to himself and rolled over. The only confrontation he planned to have with the other man in relation to his disrespect of Xie Lian was the fight against the 35 gods. 33 considering the two idiots now in his house never showed. He didn’t care to hear the other side, nor did he feel compelled to accept any apologies. His head pounded and it made him even more dizzy to consider the man’s words.
“No! Ugh. Roll back over and let me take your temperature already or I’m shoving this in your ass!” Mu Qing fumed at Hua Cheng’s sweaty back.
At that moment the door swung open and Feng Xin popped his head in.
“I heard my name.”
“Of course you did,” Mu Qing sighed, “Help me prop him up in bed. It’ll help with the congestion.”
To their surprise, it seemed like the previous conversation completely wiped Hua Cheng out. He barely grumbled as Feng Xin carefully eased him into a sitting position while Mu Qing tucked a few more pillows behind him. Taking advantage of how docile he’d become, Mu Qing slipped the thermometer into Hua Cheng’s mouth. The man didn’t seem to notice much.
As suspected, his temperature was quite high. Not dangerously so, but it still came as a shock.
“Wow. So ghost kings can get sick.” Feng Xin muttered, bringing in a cold washcloth and passing it to Mu Qing.
Hua Cheng’s eye could no longer stay open. Feeling the cool cloth placed on his burning head he couldn’t help but feel some semblance of gratitude, but he quickly pushed it away.
“Don’t fall asleep just yet. Here, drink some of this first.”
Hua Cheng technically heard Mu Qing, but he didn’t process what he was saying until a warm bitter liquid flowed between his lips. His face twisted and he moved to spit it out. Hands gently held onto him, one covering his mouth, forcing him to swallow. They weren’t as aggressive as before and soon he heard a distant mumbling followed by some clanking.
When the spoon came to his lips again he tried to lazily move his head away, but stopped when the warm liquid managed to pass his lips again.
Oh. It’s sweet.
The overly bitter concoction now had a sweetness to it, successfully cutting through the original acrid flavor.
Weakly, Hua Cheng allowed whoever it was to feed him the rest of the medicine.
He didn’t know how long it took, but soon he felt someone get up from their sitting position on the edge of the bed and the now warm cloth on his head switched out for a new freshly cooled one.
His headache began to ease and his mind guided him into a deep sleep.
—
“That was exhausting.” Feng Xin complained, bringing down the empty medicine bowl and setting it in the kitchen sink.
Mu Qing stood at the stove stirring a small pot. “Is he asleep?”
“Yeah. I think so.”
“Good. We can let him rest for a bit, but I want him to eat and drink something in a few hours.”
Feng Xin nosed his way over and peered into the pot, sneaking his arms around Mu Qing’s waist.
“I’m shocked I could find enough to make this.” Mu Qing complained. “Everything in their fridge looks like a child’s science experiment. How is it that Xie Lian has been alive for this long and he still can’t grasp basic flavor combinations that work??”
Feng Xin rested his head on Mu Qing’s shoulder. “This doesn’t look terrible.”
“That’s because I made it.” Mu Qing huffed. “He doesn’t need more than basic congee anyway.”
Feng Xin gently squeezed his waist.
“...”
“...”
“Yes, you can have some too.” Mu Qing sighed.
Feng Xin grinned and planted a kiss on Mu Qing’s cheek.
“This… wasn’t as bad as I expected.”
“I have to agree.”
—
Hua Cheng woke for the third time that day. He didn’t know how many hours had passed but his headache was gone, his fever broke, and he finally felt a bit of spiritual power stir in the pit of his stomach again.
An ache still rang through his body as he sat up in bed. Looking outside he could see it was already dark out and fresh snow was silently drifting down, coating the city below. He was about to get up when his fingers brushed against something that hadn’t been there all day. Someone had brought the blanket he left downstairs and covered him with it as he slept. Hua Cheng stared at it, running his hands over it a few times.
Suddenly, the door clicked open. He turned just in time to see a bag of take out pop through the door followed by the best view he’d seen all day.
“Gege,” He greeted Xie Lian warmly.
Or, at least he tried to greet Xie Lian warmly. It turned out yelling at two idiots all morning while sick was the best way to lose his voice.
Xie Lian looked stunned for a moment seeing Hua Cheng’s mouth move but no more than a shaky whisper fall from his lips.
“Ah, my San Lang.” Xie Lian smiled, setting the bag on the bedside table and leaning in to plant a kiss on Hua Cheng’s forehead.
The gesture was both sweet and informative as Xie Lian mentally noted that his husband felt much cooler than that morning.
“I’m so happy to see you’re feeling better. I hope that wasn’t too much trouble.”
“Not at all. Thank you for taking care of me, Gege.” Hua Cheng whispered, grabbing his hands and trying to pull him down into the bed with him.
“San Lang!” Xie Lian laughed. “Wait just a little longer. I brought your favorite takeout as promised but you should go shower first.”
Hua Cheng frowned dramatically.
“Don’t give me that. Your fever must have broken just a bit ago. Go shower, I’ll change out the sheets for you, and then I’ll join you to freshen up as well before we eat.”
At that last bit, Hua Cheng lit up and scrambled out of bed.
Xie Lian didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Even while sick, he could still bribe his husband with promises of being close.
Just before entering the bathroom, Hua Cheng suddenly stopped.
“Gege,” He whispered, “Where are Mu Qing and Feng Xin?”
Xie Lian paused his stripping of the bed. “Oh. Don’t worry, they’re already gone.” He replied.
Hua Cheng continued to stand in the doorway, seemingly turning something over in his mind.
“What?” Xie Lian asked. Then his face lit up. “You bonded with them, didn’t you?”
Hua Cheng looked aghast, but quickly averted his gaze and whispered, “Given the circumstances, how could we not?... in some way? It was inevitable.”
Xie Lian beamed.
As soon as Hua Cheng was out of sight in the bathroom, he used the little bit of spiritual energy he managed to gain back to quickly jump into his communication array with Yin Yu.
“Send a small gift to Mu Qing and Feng Xin as thanks for today.”
…
“Make it more for Mu Qing. Feng Xin didn’t do shit.”