Chapter Text
Warm candlelight filled the Thousand Lanterns Temple. Xie Lian smoothed the loose strands of hair by Hua Cheng’s cheek carefully.
Half a quarter-hour earlier, he had received an urgent summons from the Upper Court—assistance was needed to subdue a major calamity. Ordinarily, unless the situation was truly dire, the Upper Court would never disturb the foremost martial god of the Three Realms so lightly. Xie Lian understood at once: the recent unrest at Mount Tonglu, which had driven countless ghosts into chaos, must have escalated beyond control.
Yet even so, what worried him more was Hua Cheng.
This disturbance had once again deeply affected the GhostKing. But perhaps because he was now married to the very source of his long-standing obsession, Hua Cheng’s reaction this time was different. Instead of the familiar loss of consciousness and uncontrolled spiritual backlash, he remained lucid—only now, very very clingy—He had grown exhausted and dependent. And so, Xie Lian stayed by his side day and night, never straying even half a step.
The communication array flared to life once more. Seeing how Xie Lian’s worry could no longer be concealed, Hua Cheng forced a smile and said softly, “Gege, don’t worry. Go deal with that thing. Just…be careful.”
Xie Lian frowned with deep worry. “But if I leave, San Lang, you’ll be alone—”
“It’s fine,” Hua Cheng replied hoarsely. “If gege is still uneasy, then just come back sooner.”
The restlessness hidden beneath those words made Xie Lian reluctant to part, yet the calamity could not wait. After a brief calculation, he coaxed gently, “Alright, San Lang. I’ll be back before an incense stick burns down. Wait for me.”
Hua Cheng nodded obediently. “I’ll listen to gege.”
Only after several lingering, reluctant farewell kisses did Xie Lian finally step out, moving like a gust of snow-laden wind. By the time the candlewick at the altar had burned down scarcely an inch, the great calamity had already been dispatched by sheer force.
The watching officials whispered among themselves.
“Why does his highness seem so fierce today…?”
“Yes, yes, it’s like that someone of his—cough, cough—”
“Figures. Stay together long enough, and even tempers start to resemble each other…”
Xie Lian paid them no mind. Just as he reached into his sleeve for his dice, a voice suddenly called out, “Your highness?”
It wasn’t Hua Cheng—it was Yin Yu.
His heart tightened. The moment the connection opened, Yin Yu spoke rapidly: “Your highness, if possible, please return at once. Not long after you left, there was a loud voice at the Thousand Lanterns Temple. I tried to approach, but the Chengzhu’s barrier forced me back. You—”
“I’m coming back now.”
Before Yin Yu could finish, Xie Lian tossed the dice and shoved open the temple doors.
Chaos.
The candlelight was dim. The altar stood empty. No answer came no matter how loudly he called “San Lang.” Xie Lian searched like a storm—until his heightened senses caught a faint, trembling breath.
It’s Hua Cheng. Xie Lian’s heart steadied instantly. Following the sound, his gaze snapped into focus—In the darkest corner of the hall, a figure in red was curled tightly in on himself.
Xie Lian flashed to his side. “San Lang!”
But when he saw him clearly, he froze.
Hua Cheng was clutching his head, the light in his eyes sharp with violence yet soaked through with grief.
Xie Lian’s heart clenched painfully. He pulled him close at once, calling again and again, “San Lang? San Lang?”
Only broken murmurs answered him.
“I made him stab himself… I made him get hurt…such a serious wound… so serious…”
Xie Lian tightened his arms. “No, no—no one was hurt. San Lang, I’m here. It’s me. It’s alright now…”
Yet Hua Cheng only whispered darkly, “I made him suffer such a grievous wound… I drifted farther and farther from him… farther and farther…”
It was clear—he was trapped in a nightmare, his mind no longer clear.
Guilt crushed Xie Lian’s chest. He had only just left, and already the separation had driven Hua Cheng into this agony.
I never should have gone…
Without hesitation, Xie Lian drew a talisman from his sleeve, bit his finger, and traced the lines in blood.
Though Hua Cheng was not fully conscious, he still instinctively reached to stop him hurt himself. But Xie Lian was faster—slipping aside as the blood talisman flew into the air.
In the next instant, silver butterflies roared forth. The heavenly mirror shattered.
Wrapped in brilliant star-wind, Xie Lian held Hua Cheng tightly as they plunged into a butterfly dream.