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It followed her. Its shadow stalked her footsteps, its gaze never leaving her — it was driving Shi Qingxuan insane. She’d wake up in a cold sweat, chest heaving like she had just ran for miles, finding fresh fruits and clean clothing by her side. She could never bring herself to eat the food it left, distributing it amongst the other beggars instead, the clothing repurposed for the youngest and oldest of their group. Some nights Shi Qingxuan woke up screaming, the memory of hands wrapped around her throat, chains binding her wrists to cold, damp walls, the sickening warmth of ichor sprayed across her, staining her — she’d never forget it for as long as she lived.
The other beggars were understanding when her paranoia would spike, when she’d have days of constantly looking over her shoulder, jumping at every shadow — they remembered well the hysteria she was in when they found her, whatever she had gone through to leave her that way must’ve been truly unspeakable. Shi Qingxuan appreciated that they never asked, that they never pushed or prodded for answers. It was almost funny, how she felt more genuinely loved and cared for amongst the lowest of society than she did in heaven.
She missed her brother every day. The pain in her heart never went away, wishing she could feel his arms around her again, protecting her from her fears and anxieties. She missed his roundabout way of showing his love, how he had trouble verbalising his concerns or compliments without them sounding like harsh criticism. She’d give anything to have him back, even if that meant sending that once-innocent man back to hell. It never allowed her to make a grave for him, always coming back to the site desecrated and destroyed, nameplate snapped in half. “A tyrant deserves no dignity in death.” She had found a note after the fourth time, the neat calligraphy she knew well scrawled across the page. She tore the note to shreds, biting her lip until it bled as tears welled up in her eyes.
Its gaze burned, dread rolling in her stomach every time she noticed it. She tried to stay bright, laughing and smiling even as paranoia ate her alive. Shi Qingxuan wouldn’t let it win over her, wouldn’t let it drag her down into the murky depths it made its home. She refused to let it hold power over her like that, even when she spent sleepless nights trembling and flinching at every small sound.
“I know you’re still there…” she murmured into the dark, glaring with all her might. “What do you want from me? What else do I have for you to take?” It could’ve killed her easily if that’s what it wanted, but it cruelly kept her alive even when she begged otherwise.
The darkness didn’t reply, the ice cold gaze staying locked on her shivering form.
She was reaching her limit. She couldn’t stand it lingering, watching her silently. She awoke screaming more and more often, the whisper of its cold breath on her face still stinging her skin. The other beggars were growing increasingly concerned, unsure of how to ease her paranoia, unaware of the ghost haunting just beyond their vision. Shi Qingxuan couldn’t take it, screaming when she spotted it watching her in a crowd.
“You! You! I’ll never forgive you! Give me my brother back! Black Water, I hate you!! Give me my brother back!!!" Two of the beggars held her back as onlookers stared and muttered at her outburst.
“I’ll never forgive you! You traitor!” Her voice cracked as tears poured from her eyes, her bad leg twinging as her knees gave out on her. “Give him back… Ge… I miss you…” She quickly was overcome by her sobs, choking on her tears.
“I hate you, I hate you… I’ll never forgive you for as long as I live!”
It vanished after that day. She couldn’t feel its gaze on her back any longer, the dread it left deep in her core any time it came closer as she slept to leave food and clothing was gone. It was like a heavy shackle had finally been broken, she felt like she could fly away, her smiles no longer so forced. The beggars noticed the change as well, how easily she laughed again, joking and telling stories the way she did before her paranoia took over. Shi Qingxuan no longer felt the need to jump at shadows, the fear of the being that may have lurked in them disappearing.
She was finally able to erect a proper grave for her brother as well, no longer finding it smashed and desecrated the next day. The relief of finally being able to have something for her brother had her crying tears of joy, even if it was a fraction of what he deserved. Maybe Shi Qingxuan was finally allowed to move on, to live her life beyond the horrors of her fate. Even if her body creaked and ached, she was alive, she was free. She knew her brother wouldn’t have wanted his death to weigh her down, so even as she mourned, even when grief snuck up again and again unexpectedly, she continued living.
But shadows still crept in her mind. She would still wake up screaming, plagued by nightmares that felt too real. She’d still flinch when she saw figures that looked too familiar, dread freezing her still. The echoes of its haunting still lingered, even if it itself was no longer there. She’d hear its voice in her dreams, her Ming-xiong dismissing her silly ideas mixing with the cold indifference of Black Water denying her pleas for death.
She mourned the loss of that simple time, the loss of her best friend. She hated that she missed it, wanted it back as much as she wanted her brother back. Ming Yi had been the first person to stay by her side after her brother, even when she pestered and annoyed him. Ming Yi had been the first and only person she ever felt her heart race over, the first person she kissed, the first person she fell into bed with. Centuries they spent together — she didn’t want to believe it was all a lie.
That’s why she hated Black Water, would never forgive it. It had taken more than just her divinity, which she gladly gave up upon finding out it never belonged to her in the first place. It had taken everything she had — her brother, her best friend, her sanity and peace of mind. Some days she thought she deserved it, this was what He Sheng experienced when his fate was stolen after all, maybe fate was finally correcting its course after so long. But that didn’t mean she wasn’t still angry, grief-stricken and tired. She sometimes wondered if He Xuan would’ve truly left them be if she had exchanged her fate with one of the doomed fates in that prison, if she and her brother would’ve been allowed to live after that. Shi Wudu was so protective, so prideful that he’d never allow her to live that way, but she wishes he could’ve swallowed that pride so they could at least have been together still.
Shi Qingxuan was visiting Puqi Shrine, two years after the return of Crimson Rain and the extravagant wedding the couple had thrown not too long after. Xie Lian was the only person after Ming Yi that she could’ve called a true friend, even if the man seemed a bit lost sometimes on what being friends entailed. That friendship was the only thing that let her power through the discomfort she felt — she knew it lingered around the shrine at times, that sinking feeling in her gut with the unexpectedly cold breeze that brush across the back of her neck. Her change in mood was clear to the god, who gave her a concerned look as he refilled her tea cup.
“Is something the matter? I hope my tea isn’t disagreeing with you, I promise I at least know how to brew a pot!” he joked to try and brighten the mood. She couldn’t help but laugh with him, shaking her head.
“Oh no no, His Highness’s tea is just fine! I just… have something on my mind,” she trailed off, looking towards the cherry blossoms on the hill.
“No worries if you don’t know but, um- is… is Black Water… still around?” she asked, stumbling over her words slightly.
Xie Lian looked unsure of how to answer, a small bit of surprise spread across his face before uncertainty set in.
“Why do you ask?” he deflected, sipping his tea. Shi Qingxuan sighed quietly.
“…He used to haunt me, after everything he did to ge and I,” she started, cradling her cup between her palms. “He’d leave behind food and clothing, always watching from the shadows but never coming closer. I felt like I was going insane, the fear was even worse than when I was being hunted by the reverend! But one day he just… stopped.” She gestured wildly as she spoke, missing the weight of her fan or whisk in her hand.
“I’m curious, if he finally passed on, found closure or whatever.”
The god listened to her intently as she spoke, humming quietly.
“Well,” he looked down into his tea, “He Xuan is still around. Elusive as usual, but still active.” He nodded, a small look of pity in his eyes for the water demon.
Shi Qingxuan couldn’t help but laugh bitterly — what was the point of everything it did if it found no closure in any of it? What was the point of infiltrating heaven, killing her brother, leaving her haunted by those horrid memories, if it didn’t even find peace from it all!? Had she not been a weak mortal, the cup in her hand would’ve been shattered by how tightly she gripped it.
“I see.” She swallowed her bubbling anger, trying to keep her voice level.
“Then could you pass a message onto him for me? Tell him I’d like to talk to him face to face, no hiding in the shadows like a coward.” She couldn’t help the resentment that seeped in, but Xie Lian seemed understanding of her feelings, reaching out to hold her clenched fist that trembled against the table.
“I’ll ask San Lang to pass it along.” He smiled sympathetically, giving her hand a little squeeze.
She steeled herself, waiting for He Xuan to finally show its loathsome face to her again. She wouldn’t let fear grip her, even as a shiver ran up her spine as the darkness started to increase in density.
“I thought I said no hiding. Show yourself,” she hissed, gripping her cane to hide the way her hands shook. Its eyes cut through the darkness first, glowing as the rest of the dark melted away to reveal its pallid skin and lithe form.
Shi Qingxuan stood steady as it slinked towards her, even with all her instincts screaming at her to run. Sorrow seized her heart, seeing the features of the man she once loved still shimmering under the gloom of the calamity, remembering when she used to trot alongside it, arm looped through its own as she rambled on happily.
But the person standing before her wasn’t the person she loved.
“So? Was it worth it? Did you find any closure? Are you satisfied?” She didn’t hold back her anger, letting all her grief and resentment pour out. It regarded her silently, letting her words slash through it.
“Everything you did, just to- just to end up looking like a dog left in the rain! What did you gain!? Is this what you wanted?” Its silence only angered her further, any fear she felt initially vanishing to be replaced with fury.
It eventually slowly shook its head, gaze lowered.
“No,” it whispered, “this isn’t what was supposed to happen.” It sounded regretful, Shi Qingxuan’s heart squeezing in her chest.
“Then what was? Did you really intend to let us both live as mortals if you had gotten your way?” She stepped closer to it, making it step backwards.
“Yes,” it replied, still not meeting her eyes.
“And would you have really been fine with that? You would’ve been satisfied?” she continued to push, getting into its personal space.
“Yes,” it repeated, finally meeting her gaze. “I never intended you harm. All I wanted was acknowledgment, regret for what he’d done, an apology,” it explained, an edge of desperation to its voice.
“Did I not apologize enough for you?” she scoffed, clenching her fists.
“Your apology was not the one I wanted — you had as little agency in your fate as I did.” It may have not accepted her ignorance as innocence, but He Xuan still recognised that Shi Qingxuan held less blame than her brother. It didn’t hold her at as much fault, it couldn’t after knowing her for so long, knowing she was truly innocent in her brother’s abhorrent behaviour. All it wanted was for her to make the right decision, to choose it. It gave her so many chances, and yet…
“I- I did not intend on either of your deaths, I knew you would never choose to kill him.”
Shi Qingxuan laughed in its face. “You still killed ge anyways. You still took him from me!” she shouted, unable to hold back the tears that welled up in her eyes.
“He provoked me! Do you not remember him strangling you!? Do you not remember his lack of remorse? Was it truly so painful for him to say ‘I’m sorry’?” Its voice rose with hers, its forced calm falling away entirely.
“How could I forget!? I’ll never have a good night’s sleep for the rest of my life because of you!” Shi Qingxuan realistically knew Shi Wudu had provoked He Xuan into maiming and killing him, had seen his death as the only ‘good’ way out of the situation. She knew the type of man her brother was, prideful and stubborn to a fault. She wiped away the tears that streamed down her cheeks, taking a deep breath.
“I- I understand why you were so angry. What was done to you was unforgivable, and I gave up the divinity that should’ve been yours readily. But,” she looked straight into the calamity’s eyes fearlessly, “I’ll never forgive you for what you did. I agree that ge deserved to face justice - if you had just revealed his crimes and allowed us to be banished, I wouldn’t have been able to be upset with you. I would've stood beside you fully.”
He Xuan went back to silence, staring down at the ground. Shi Qingxuan wouldn’t back down yet, waiting for its retort for as long as she needed to.
“…Maybe in an ideal world, it could’ve ended that way. In a world where we were not used as pawns to further an agenda, perhaps I would’ve been able to handle that knowledge better.” It shut its eyes. Shi Qingxuan was confused by the mention of an agenda, not knowing what the calamity could’ve been talking about. It opened its eyes to continue, its icy demeanour back in place.
“But I am not sorry for killing your brother. No, I am not satisfied and no, I have not found closure, but I do not regret ripping his repulsive head from his shoulders.”
She grimaced, resentment lurching at hearing such a lack of remorse from the being that ruined her. She could almost laugh at the irony, but it didn’t occur in the moment.
“Then I hope you never find peace. I hope you remain stuck in this realm, forever tormented by what you’ve done,” she spat. It seemed there was no resolution to be found between them, there was no forgiveness to be had nor any apologies given. There was no repairing their broken thread, the one that once wrapped around them so tightly that there was no denying its existence.
"I will, just as you will be tormented by your inaction and fear. You poor, sweet, innocent thing." Sarcasm dripped from its voice, its own resentment flaring. Shi Qingxuan fought against the urge to cower, clenching her teeth. She couldn't help the way she began to shiver, mortal bodies were more sensitive to the auras of such powerful ghosts, even if her mind knew not to be. With nothing more left to say, He Xuan turned to leave.
“I have one more question for you,” she said, making it pause. “What was between us, everything we had — was that all just a lie?” Her voice wobbled, fresh tears welling up in her eyes. It froze still, fists clenched at its sides.
“No,” it replied. “No. I loved you. I still do, Shi Qingxuan.” The words sounded painful to speak aloud, like it was being stabbed in the chest as it spoke. Their love was not enough to save them from such a regretful ending. Their love, built on a foundation of deceit, was doomed from the start. A wretched beginning, a wretched end.
The tears spilled over, rolling down her cheeks.
“I hate you, He Xuan,” she sobbed, “I hate you.”
The darkness began to assimilate over the calamity as it left for the last time, face hidden from sight.
“...I know.”