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When Xie Lian wakes there's a buzzing in his ears and a strange thick muffled feeling in his head. Disoriented he tries to rub his eyes but as soon as he shifts his hands he feels the tug of cable around them …Holding them together… binding them… binding him… What???
Blearily he blinks his eyes open. He is in a chair, his head tilting downward to his chest giving him a great view of the elegant mosaics covering the floor. The art is gorgeous, rich and floral and he must be in either a palace or a temple but where… He can't recall. His mind and memory still feel hazy and disoriented as though… Drugged. He must’ve been drugged. Someone must've put something in his food or his tea that rendered him unconscious so that they could abduct him.
The thought doesn't overly alarm Xie Lian, he's been in far worse situations than a little light abduction after all, but it does make him wonder who and why and how long. That last question quickly takes hold. How long has he been unconscious? Long enough for San Lang to notice he’s missing, to start to worry? Not wanting to upset his husband if he doesn't have to, Xie Lian quickly mentally recites his array password and feels … Nothing. It isn't the nothing of a connection denied rather the nothing of no connection. A sudden suspicion comes to Xie Lian and he tilts his head a little to see the bindings around his wrists. Sure enough they glow with a divine golden light. Heavenly binding cables. They must be suppressing his spiritual power which means his abductors are…
“I think he's awake.” It's a woman's voice sharp and no-nonsense and perhaps slightly familiar.
“Your Highness, are you conscious?” This voice is male, mild and polite despite the circumstances.
Xie Lian raises his head and blinks a couple of times, trying to clear the haze from his vision. As he does, three figures come swimming into view. They are all gods, Xie Lian can tell that instantly, their auras unmistakable. One, the first speaker, is a woman dressed in elegant green robes, the pouch of herbs hanging at her side marking her as a god of healing, or perhaps, Xie Lian thinks wryly, a god of poisons. The second, and presumably the second speaker, is dressed in the somber robes and hat of a scholar. The third… The third rings a vague bell of recognition in Xie Lian’s still somewhat muddled mind.
“…Wang Tu?”
“So you recognize me? Good, I'm glad to see the drug Wa Ying gave you didn't completely addle your wits.”
“It did not.” Xie Lian says it mildly, his eyes finally focusing on the other man. Wang Tu is a martial god, newly ascended, brash and wild and if Xie Lian recognizes him more quickly than the others then it's probably because of the sheer number of arguments and fights he's caused since his ascension. “Would someone mind explaining what I'm doing here?”
“Your highness doesn't need to worry.” It's the scholar god who speaks, his voice part respectful and part conciliatory.
Xie Lian gives him a small wry smile. “It's not a matter of worry. I would simply like to know why three heavenly officials have decided to drug and abduct me.”
“Forgive our methods, Your Highness, but it was the only way we could think of to rescue you.”
“Rescue me?” Xie Lian arches an eyebrow at the man, mentally racking his brain to try and remember the scholar's name or anything else he can about him or his companions, but Xie Lian has spent far more time at Paradise Manor or in Puqi Shrine over the last few years than he has in the heavens and so these three young gods are barely known to him. “From what?”
The healer god, Wa Ying, lets out an exasperated huff of breath. “From that monster of course.”
Instantly Xie Lian stiffens, his back straightening and his tone cooling. “What monster?”
Wong Tu lets out a mocking laugh. “The one you call your husband of course and I told you before,” this to his companions, “he's not a victim. He's a willing participant.”
The scholar god shakes his head. “And I told you, that doesn't make sense. His Highness is probably just too deep in the demon’s thrall to see things clearly right now, but don't worry your highness,” this turning back to Xie Lian, “we will save you.”
The prince’s eyes narrow, his tone continuing to cool until it carries the echoes of winter’s frost. “I am not worried and I don't need saving but I would appreciate it if you stop speaking about my husband in such a way.”
Wa Ying clicks her tongue. “There he goes again with that husband nonsense. I tell you the calamities really done a number on him.”
The words and the continued disrespect to Hua Cheng has anger stirring in Xie Lian’s chest but he takes a breath and tamps it down, forcing his shoulders to relax and his voice to calm. Clearly there is a misunderstanding here and rage will not settle it.
“What is it exactly you think S-Hua Cheng has done to me?”
Wang Tu rolls his eyes. “Don't act all innocent like you don't know what's going on.”
The scholar shoots him an aggravated look then turns his attention back to Xie Lian. “Your Highness, I know this may be hard to hear but the calamity has put you under his thrall in order to use you as a puppet to control the heavens.”
Xie Lian blinks a couple of times, taking this in. “I see… What makes you believe this?”
The scholar and the healer glance at each other, obviously startled by the calmness of his reaction. In the end it's the healer who answers.
“Your Highness, to be blunt, we all know how Crimson Rain Sought Flower used you to overthrow the last heavenly emperor and put you on his throne.”
Xie Lian leans back a bit in his seat, noticing as he does so that while the heavenly binding cables tie his wrists nothing is actually tying him to the chair itself. They must believe that cutting him off from his spiritual power is enough to neutralize him. They are so very young. Perhaps it is this thought which allows the prince to smile calmly back at his captors, a flicker of amusement dancing his eyes.
“Is that how they're telling the story now?”
The healer narrows her eyes. “What's that supposed to mean?”
Xie Lian shakes his head. “Nothing, never mind, but your story has a flaw in it, you see that don't you? Because I am not heavenly emperor.”
“Not in name.” Wang Tu crosses his arms. “But we all know. No one on the council makes a move without consulting you first. Not Nan Yang, not Xuan Zhen, Not Ling Wen, not even Ming Guang dares to step outside your highness’s grace and we all know why. They’re cowards, too afraid to do anything that upsets the calamity’s puppet.”
“The calamity’s puppet, is that what I am?” As he speaks, Xie Lian’s eyes wander the room, looking for inspiration. They must be in the palace of Wa Ying for the whole hall is filled with paintings and pillars and mosaics all covered in a motif of leaves and vines and other growing things. On a table nearby sits a number of flasks, a tea set, and, looking rather incongruously out of place, his sword. Xie Lian’s heart warms at the sight of it, for it was a gift to him from his husband, and yet he feels no desire to reach for it. Other than drugging him no one here has laid a finger on him and it isn't as though he's in any true danger. Perhaps there will be a way to get through to at least one of them, save them from the grisly fate they are so inevitably inviting whenever San Lang hears about this.
“You know you are.” Wang Tu all but spits the words. “These two might be convinced you're just a victim but I know better. I know you’re a willing part of this, living it up and lording it over us despite the fact you're only a god of trash and misfortune.”
“Wang Tu!” The scholar whips around to glare at his companion. “You go too far! There's no need to be so disrespectful.”
Wang Tu rounds on the scholar. “What is it with you? You keep going on and on about respecting him when he’s just some ghost king’s whore!”
The scholar stiffens, outrage obvious in every line of his body. “For shame! His highness is the *victim* here! The records speak of his wisdom and kindness! What’s happened to him isn’t his fault!”
“Bullshit! There’s no way you’ll convince me he’s not in on it!”
The scholar's eyes narrow. “That you think that says more about you than it does about him.”
Wang Tu bristles, looking as though he's about to go for the other god but before things can devolve into a fight Xie Lian quickly raises his hands in the best approximation of a calming gesture he can make with his wrists still bound together.
“No no, no need to quarrel. I don't mind, and really he is right. I'm not a victim and I really am willing.”
“What?” Wa Ying’s eyes narrow and she takes a step toward him. “Are you really saying that you willingly … Consort with that calamity?” The way she says the word consort is filled with horror and disgust, as though Xie Lian has just admitted to letting himself be bedded by wild dogs and while he doesn't mind the insult to himself the implied insult to Hua Cheng is enough to bring the ice back to his voice.
“With my husband, yes, I do, and I have already asked that you speak of him more respectfully.”
“See! I told you!” Wang Tu points a triumphant finger at Xie Lian but the scholar shakes his head.
“I already told you he would say things like that but it's just the power of the calamity at work on him. That's all.”
The healer throws up her hands. “Well, it will be settled soon one way or the other.”
Xie Lian’s eyes narrow. “What do you mean, ‘settled’?”
The scholar shrugs elegantly. “The ghost King can't control the heavens without his puppet can he? If he wants to stay in power he'll have to come for you.”
Xie Lian considers this for a moment then nods and asks, “What do you plan to do when he does?” He isn't overly fond of threats to his husband of course but if they only plan to attack him, one young martial god and two civil gods… Well Xie Lian isn’t actually worried
Wa Ying gestures proudly around her palace. “Poison that only affects ghosts. It's taken us a long time to research and just as long for me to brew it but it's finally complete.” She points triumphantly at the beakers on the table next to Xie Lian’s sword and he leans forward to get a better look. “Once I’ve released the first draft to the air it will slow him down enough for the poison on Wang Tu’s blade to reach him. Just a single nick will paralyze him and then…”
“What's that!” The scholar's voice cuts through Wa Ying’s explanation, his words sharp with alarm in a way Xie Lian hasn't heard them before.
“What's what?” Wang Tu asks, his eyes narrowing.
“That!” The scholar points at Xie Lian’s chest and the prince notices with surprise that his finger is shaking. Curious he glances down at himself to find that the speed at which he leaned forward when Wa Ying began talking about poison caused the chain around his neck to fall forward as well, it's ring now peeking out from between his robes.
“What?” Wang Tu raises his head to look at his companion in annoyed confusion. “It's just a bit of jewelry.”
The scholar shakes his head, his entire face going pale. “No, it's not. I've seen drawings of rings like that in the scrolls Wa Ying and I went through on ghosts. That's…” His eyes travel from the ring upward to Xie Lian’s face and he gulps. “I think we got it wrong. …Very wrong.”
Xie Lian inclines his head. “You did.”
“Got what wrong??” Wang Tu demands, taking a step toward Xie Lian. Wa Ying moves as well, peering forward to get a better look at what so alarmed the scholar.
“But those are ashes! Ghost ashes!” She turns wide eyes on the scholar. “You don't think… Crimson Rain’s…”
The scholar nods, his breath coming quickly.
“But that would mean…” The healer turns back to Xie Lian, slow horror dawning in her eyes. “Crimson Rain was never the one in control was he?”
“Hold up! Those are Crimson Rain’s ashes!?” Wang Tu cuts in before Xie Lian can reply.
“No wait!” The scholar shouts but it's too late, the martial god is already lunging for the chain at Xie Lian’s throat.
Until that moment Xie Lian has been calm, angry certainly at how they spoke of his husband, but still calm, unworried, sure of himself, sure of Hua Cheng, sure that the most difficult part of resolving the situation will be to do so in a way that leads these three foolish youths to the truth rather than to banishment or death. Now though… Now at the sight of that greedy crushing hand reaching for his husband's essence, ready to grind the precious thing into dust and wipe Hua Cheng from existence forever, something shifts in Xie Lian, his calm shattering like glass as rage and fear burst to life inside him and a remembered haze of silver butterflies dances before his eyes.
Not again!
Never again!
Wang Tu is fast but Xie Lian is faster. Before the martial god’s hand can close around the ring Xie Lian is on his feet, his bound hands slamming into Wang Tu’s shoulder and shoving him back. The martial god lets out a growl of rage and jerks the sword from his sheath just as Xie Lian sends Rouye flicking out to wrap around the hilt of his own blade. Steel rings against steel as their swords meet, the force of the blow cracking mosaic beneath their feet. Wang Tu is a martial god young and strong in his power, fighting within the realm of heaven, an endless well of spiritual energy flowing into him like air. Xie Lian’s hands are bound together so tightly that he can barely fit the hilt between his fingers, his spiritual powers bound still more tightly until he is as powerless as any shackled god.
Yet Xie Lian was once a shackled god. For 800 years he walked the world with nothing more to rely on than his own strength and will and a few decades of power and easy living have not been enough to drive the memory of those centuries from mind or muscles. Their blades meet only three times before Wang Tu is crashing against the far wall, chips of stone and drops of blood scattering all around him. A high-pitched gasp escapes his throat and then he is crumbling to the ground, and though a soft moan proves that he is not unconscious still he does not rise.
Xie Lian surveys him for a moment then turns to face the two civil gods who, as one, drawback from him, shock and fear and a new respect burning in their eyes. Xie Lian half lowers his sword and opens his mouth to speak but before he can there is a crashing noise and the door of Wa Ying’s palace shatters, letting in a torrent of silver butterflies.
The two civil gods cry out, jumping back to cower behind a nearby pillar even as Xie Lian’s shoulders relax and he lowers his sword the rest of the way.
“San Lang, it's alright. I'm not hurt!”
The ominous jingle of silver chains like bells fills the room as Hua Cheng prowls through the door, his single eye narrowing dangerously at the sight of the binding cables around Xie Lian’s wrists and a moment later E’ming flashes out, severing them. Even as he feels the warmth of spiritual energy returning to him Xie Lian slams his sword back into its sheath so that he can throw himself at his husband, the fear he felt moments before only truly easing when he feels Hua Cheng’s arms close around him, safe and whole and still by his side.
“Gege.” Hua Cheng says it softly, only for him, and Xie Lian can hear the other emotions that lurk beneath the ghost king’s rage and he knows that he is not the only one who has been afraid. “Are you sure you aren’t hurt?”
Xie Lian nods. “I’m alright, San Lang.” And so are you, he thinks and holds his husband a little tighter.
The sound of a groan from the other side of the room draws both of their attention back to the palaces three other occupants all of whom now cower against the far wall, Wang Tu still covered in blood and struggling to rise.
Hua Cheng tries to take an ominous step toward them but Xie Lian holds him back, causing his husband to glance down at him in surprise.
“Gege, they abducted you.”
“I know, and I’ll deal with them later, but for now I just want to go home, San Lang.” Go home and hold you and remind myself that you're still here with me.
Something in Xie Lian’s voice must give away some part of his true thoughts, his true fear, because after a moment Hua Cheng nods. “Whatever my beloved wishes.”
He pulls a set of dice from within his robe but before he can toss them out Xie Lian holds up a hand to forestall him then turns, still within the comforting circle of his husband's arms, to survey the three gods before him.
“He doesn't control me, you know that now, but I want to be clear. I don't control him either. San Lang truly is my husband and I am his because we have chosen each other. That is all.”
“But… But he's a ghost, a calamity…” The scholar splutters out.
“Yes,” Xie Lian looks away from the god up at the ghost king who still holds him close, and his expression softens. “My ghost.”
Hua Cheng’s expression softens as well and he leans forward, closing the distance between them to press a tender kiss to Xie Lian’s lips. “Always yours, gege. Now, you’ve given that trash enough of your time. Will you let me take you home so you can rest?”
“Always.” Xie Lian leans forward, resting his head against his husband's chest, and the two of them vanish into silver butterflies.