Chapter Text
“You’re not going to believe this.”
Hua Cheng sat up in his chair and frowned. He wasn’t pleased to be shaken from the reverie he’d been hiding in for half the afternoon. The cold, monotone words invading his head belonged to his fellow ghost king.
“What is it now?” he drawled into their shared communication array.
“Someone just ascended to heaven.”
Hua Cheng sighed and deflated back into his chair.
Black Water often kept him up to speed when it came to the drama unfolding in heaven, but right now, he was really not in the mood.
“And? Someone can ascend for pouring wine on someone’s head, right? What is it this time? A world-renowned go player?”
“This one is renowned for collecting scraps.”
Hua Cheng stilled. His grip on the wooden arms of his chair tightened nearly to the point of shattering them, and for the first time in months, Crimson Rain Sought Flower felt the beat of his own heart.
Few things could render Hua Cheng properly speechless, but silence hung heavy in the far space between the two calamities.
“... What would you like me to do?” Black Water followed up.
Hua Cheng still didn’t respond.
Beyond the sheer red curtain that separated his ‘throne’ from the hellish masses in the gambling hall below, no one had a clue that Hua Cheng’s god, the one true god, had returned to his rightful place. The whole world had just tilted on its axis.
I actually know where he is… he thought in a daze.
Hua Cheng slowly sat forward, elbows resting on his knees. The pale hands suspended in the air in front of him were trembling slightly. Uneven breaths huffed from his own mouth, which was very odd. Ghosts don’t even need to breathe, after all.
He was overwhelmed. He couldn’t think.
Hua Cheng had spent his whole life cultivating luck, but fate itself, it would seem, had kept his beloved hidden from him. No matter his power or wealth and resources, whenever clues of His Highness’s whereabouts were discovered, Hua Cheng was always a step behind and unable to catch up. He only ever found out where His Highness had been.
Now, for the first time in eight hundred years, the purpose of Hua Cheng’s very existence was within his reach. His long search and centuries of longing were finally, finally over.
Black Water was still waiting patiently for his response, but Hua Cheng didn’t especially care. He knew that if anyone could understand, it was him. He'd become one of Hua Cheng’s few confidants over the years. Black Water had a keen eye, and despite all Crimson Rain’s attempts to remain aloof and reserved, over time certain details of his search had become known to his fellow supreme. Not all, but some. Enough to know his mind was probably euphoric chaos right now.
“Follow His Highness until he departs heaven again… The moment he does, inform me and tell me where he’s heading,” Hua Cheng finally found his voice and demanded.
While he was not Black Water’s boss, the man owed Hua Cheng a lot of money. The shared use of his heavenly clone spies was part of his repayment plan.
“I figured as much. Anything else?” Black Water replied.
“Yeah. Keep one ear in the Upper Court’s communication array. Pay attention to what everyone is saying, and if anyone is especially disrespectful or antagonistic towards heaven’s new arrival, I want names,” he replied seriously.
There was a pause, and for a moment he expected Black Water to argue about this chore.
“It will be a long list. You should know, he’s already on bad terms with the capital. I’m sure much is being said about him and nothing good.”
“How long has it been since he ascended?” Hua Cheng asked incredulously.
“Less than an incense time. However, his ascension was… dramatic.”
“Dramatic? Explain,” snapped Hua Cheng as he jumped to his feet and adjusted the silver vambraces on his forearms. If anyone there was planning to start a fight again or threaten His Highness, he was more than happy to go up there and back him up.
In fact, he’d relish the chance.
“Let’s just say, heaven was expecting someone more preeminent than the long-forgotten Scrap Immortal. The capital shook so bad the ascension bell knocked itself off its tower and almost landed on someone. Several golden palaces collapsed. Your god is… something else.”
A sharp grin pulled at his lips, and Hua Cheng momentarily believed in karma after all.
He hoped His Highness really trashed the place. It served them right for banishing him twice before. Hua Cheng would have loved to watch this ascension in person—to see that worthless rabble cower and scramble, forced to acknowledge his god’s superiority and importance at last.
“How appropriate,” he replied as he pulled a pair of enchanted red dice from his pocket.
“If you say so. Your god will be held responsible when it comes to paying for the damages.”
Hua Cheng waved his hand dismissively, though Black Water could not see it. Such things would never be of consequence once the Crown Prince of Xianle was backed by the insane wealth of Ghost City.
“Who did the bell fall on?” Hua Cheng asked suddenly.
He heard Black Water snicker, which wasn’t necessary in a telepathic array, so he’d meant for Hua Cheng to hear it.
“Go on. Tell me.”
“It was thirty-four, as you like to call him.”
At this, Hua Cheng let out a loud laugh—loud enough that the unruly horde of gamblers below went silent with apprehension.
Fate? Karma? It really couldn’t be better than this.
“And number thirty-five—”
“Nan Yang’s palace was one of them that collapsed, yes,” Black Water interjected dryly. “An auspicious day for Crimson Rain Sought Flower.”
Truer words had never been spoken. It was almost too good. Hua Cheng half-suspected he must have strayed into a wonderful dream. His heart kept bounding between impossible joy and a raging fear that this wasn’t actually happening. It didn’t feel real yet.
The elusive flower that he had been seeking for eight centuries had finally bloomed, and Hua Cheng would be able to behold him with his own single eye! To speak with him in person! God to ghost king!
The fact that those two ingrates, of all people, had also met with such misfortune during His Highness’s ascension was the poetic icing on top. This was clearly some kind of cosmic turning point. It was a chance to set all to rights.
“Keep me informed of anything else that happens and don’t lose track of His Highness. I shouldn’t have to tell you how important this is,” said Hua Cheng.
“Oh, I’m aware. I’m just glad I don’t have to listen to you whine anymore.”
Hua Cheng left the communication array without responding to the bait.
He was tempted to bully Black Water into a soul-shifting spell so he could look upon his god as soon as possible, but that was probably a bad call. If he did, he might lose all self-control and head straight up there himself—especially if the other officials were acting indecorously, and they almost certainly were.
As much as he wanted to, he couldn’t act on impulse.
Their first interaction after all these years shouldn’t be Hua Cheng making a scene nor putting His Highness in a strange position. This was a delicate matter.
He knew His Highness well, but His Highness would not recognize who he was in return—at least insofar as their shared history. His Highness might even already have preconceived notions about the infamous “Scourge of Heaven.” Few would think highly of Hua Cheng outside the ghost realm, after all.
Considering their positions in heaven and the ghost realm, Hua Cheng had to do everything just right, or he’d be doomed to forever interact with his god in various disguises.
He needed to think. To plan it all as extensively as possible. Despite the fact that he’d been waiting for this day for centuries, he had never committed to one plan or another in regard to their reunion. He needed to see what had become of His Highness first and then he could act accordingly.
Now he at least knew he’d be greeting him as a reinstated heavenly official, but there was no telling how life in the mortal world had changed him or how receptive he’d be towards a sudden bid for friendship. He may not be very trusting.
Hua Cheng had always found it curious that, of all things, His Highness had become a scrap collector. To Hua Cheng, this felt like a statement. Xie Lian had not aimed for heaven again. No, in fact, this choice was an outright rejection of heaven, and Hua Cheng really couldn’t blame him. It was kind of amazing that he’d ended up back there anyhow. Miraculous, even.
Was Xie Lian happy about this? Horrified?
Hua Cheng threw his dice high up in the air, and they landed right back in his palm. Predictably, two perfect sixes peered up at him. If he himself was the god of anything, it was luck.
The distance-shortening spell in the dice was activated, and Hua Cheng stepped forward. The silver chains adorning his black boots jingled as he stepped into his bedroom in Paradise Manor, the palatial residence he was currently favoring.
He needed a disguise and a story, fast.
His Highness could leave the capital at any moment, and there was a good chance he wouldn’t bother to keep his new position. Who would want to have to answer to someone they didn’t respect or might even hate?
As well-read as he was, even Hua Cheng didn’t know the specifics of His Highness’s previous ascension and subsequent banishment, but His Highness and the heavenly emperor might still bear a deep grudge against one another. The only known fact was that the two of them had dueled. It was a very little-known fact that His Highness had even stabbed the emperor, making him the only person in history to get past Jun Wu’s legendary spiritual armor.
He must have had a damn good reason.
Hua Cheng wandered over and stood before the tall mirror perched on his dresser. He stared at his own reflection, sizing the other person up. Trying to see what His Highness would see.
The ghost king staring back at him in the mirror was truly terrible to behold. It wasn’t monstrous or inhuman-looking; he was just currently in a terrible skin.
This was a loathsome guise he often wore while lording over the gambler’s den. It wasn’t entirely different from his true form, but his hair was pulled up high, his clothing was more ostentatious, and his face was especially unkind. Both shrewd eyes were visible, and both matched his red robes.
This was not a form His Highness should ever see. It was designed to give off the impression of a cruel despot completely lacking in sympathy or mercy.
For the moment, he shifted back to his true form, eye patch and all. He wore his long black hair loose, and his red robes were adorned with silver jewelry in the style of his mother’s people. His skin was milky white, the color of death, and his features were as sharp as the iconic silver scimitar at his waist.
He looked rakish and ill-mannered when he smiled, but with even with his resting face he gave off the appearance of a murderous beast. A proper scowl could send those who recognized him fleeing for their lives, shitting their pants along the way.
What would His Highness think? What would a noble, gracious, special person such as he think of a man who looked like this?
Hua Cheng sulked and reached up to tug at the red pearl dangling at the end of a long, thin braid. This was no good. He did know that others were often less critical than he. It wasn’t his own taste, but some were actually attracted to those who appeared dangerous and unkind. He’d used this to his advantage many times in the past.
He rubbed at his chin, scrutinizing, staring himself in his own beady black eye.
Do I dare show up like this? Do I just lay all my cards on the table?
It was a pretty good show of who he really was. It didn’t hide his rough edges. While he was certainly capable of polite courtesy and though he had obtained a wealth of knowledge, which he could use to blend into even the most distinguished settings, this was him at his core.
A scoundrel. An arrogant devil of a man.
It was something most people should already know about him, and surely his reputation would precede him. At the same time, there was more to Crimson Rain than all the rumors would suggest. While he was the first to admit he had no time for the things he didn’t care about and that the things he didn’t care about were vast, Hua Cheng was not heartless or rough.
He was not always cold.
He cared for his citizens in his own aloof way. He certainly enjoyed helping them get their revenge. Just ask the boar spirit who ran the butcher stall. He also had a soft spot for poor kids, as he himself had once been. Few would know it, but he actually respected people who were genuinely kind and he delighted in bringing about the downfall of those who deserved it.
Despite his upbringing, which had filled him with hate for the world, His Highness had instilled within him a terrible beneficence towards innocent common folk. Because of this, like so many taken under His Highness’s wing, Hua Cheng had even unexpectedly ascended—something he took care to keep under wraps.
He’d had no business trying to be a god. A god would never worship another god, and Hua Cheng could never not worship His Highness.
Ascended or not, he had spent most of his life painstakingly hiding any good part of himself behind harsh words and actions that appeared manipulative, cruel, and sometimes brutal. The creatures who took the brunt of this always secretly deserved it, but he never cared to make it known. He didn’t want to be anyone’s hero. He was perfectly happy to be feared and respected and left alone.
As a result of this persona that he’d built as a vindictive trickster and a merciless lord of the ghost realm, few would think him capable of gentleness or love. If His Highness had heard all about him, well...
Hua Cheng shifted into a form that was a bit shorter and not so different from himself on the cusp of manhood.
This was a healthier version of the young lad he had once been, back before he died in battle or lost his eye. It was like beholding a different fate—one where he’d never been cursed and he’d grown up in a noble house. He was dressed well, his hair pulled up into a smart, clean ponytail. He had two dark eyes and no braid, perfectly tidy and symmetrical.
Approachable. Soft. Friendly. Maybe still a little mischievous, but dare Hua Cheng say, not bad-looking? This was very important.
His Highness was the only person in Hua Cheng’s long life that he’d loved. He was the reason Hua Cheng’s soul still lingered in this world. He needed His Highness to like him, and more, if he could manage it.
He did understand that His Highness might not be capable of reciprocating the obscene depths of his feelings. If his god felt no inclination towards men, for instance, it would probably be best if His Highness never came to know about that side of Hua Cheng at all—the bizarre part that couldn’t determine the clear line between worship and desire.
Hua Cheng wasn’t opposed to hiding his feelings forever if need be in order to remain in the prince’s presence, but his heart ached at the thought.
He tried on a smile in the mirror. It looked a little bit fake. He tried again. That smile looked sinister. He huffed out a sigh.
He had to be perfect. He needed to be anything and everything His Highness needed in a friend and a companion. Perhaps, after enough years of devotion and proving his worth… well. Even if wooing his god really was impossible, Hua Cheng would learn how to live with that.
It would probably be best to introduce himself a little bit at a time—like acclimating to a really hot bath. He wouldn’t want to scald His Highness and send him fleeing at first contact. Before the complications of romance, he just had to establish some trust and show himself to be someone His Highness could actually rely on. Once they’d formed a strong, unbreakable bond, he could very gradually begin to show his true colors.
Hua Cheng tried on a few other skins, then he gave up and steeled his nerves, turning away from the mirror. As he did so, he shifted back to his real face. He should probably begin by giving His Highness a glimpse of his true form and gauge his reaction.
If His Highness didn’t like what he saw, or if he instantly perceived the infamous Crimson Rain Sought Flower, as an enemy he must subdue, Hua Cheng would retreat and change tactics.
To start, a silver butterfly would do. He was very curious to see how His Highness might react to his most famous calling card.
I wonder what he knows about me. What all has he heard? Which stories?
He was gripped by curiosity and hope and dread. He sat down on the bed and waited for Black Water’s next message.
Most of the messages to come were about heavenly gossip, and none of it was good.
The emperor was not in heaven at the moment, so many were talking about what it might be like when he and His Highness came face to face again. Others were talking about how His Highness owed the capital something like eight million merits for damages caused by his ascension. It was a record, much in the way that his last ascension was the shortest on record—less than a tea time.
The communication arrays were also apparently filled with bets about how long the Crown Prince would last this time around. Hua Cheng could only hope His Highness wasn’t making himself listen to all this petty nonsense.
A bit later, He Xuan piped up to confirm that His Highness had poked his head in and spoken very briefly. He hadn’t recognized the voice of Xuan Zhen, causing unparalleled awkwardness almost immediately.
The fact that His Highness couldn’t recognize the sweeping general was both fitting and hilarious, as far as Hua Cheng was concerned. His Highness shouldn’t dwell on traitorous trash like him. The same went for the bodyguard.
Hua Cheng never knew what ultimately caused Feng Xin to leave His Highness’s service, and he didn’t need to know the specifics, either. All that mattered was that he’d left him, just like everyone else.
The only person in His Highness’s life, apparently, who was truly loyal even in hard times, was a dead worshiper. He hadn’t been able to do much to help, but he had at least tried.
Hua Cheng was no longer that helpless ghost fire or a newborn wraith. He was a calamity.
He now had the power to give his god the whole world on a silver platter if he so wished. If his prince would ask him for it, Hua Cheng would raze entire kingdoms. He would ruin every heavenly official who had ever uttered a snide remark about him. He would build His Highness a thousand palaces and temples of pure gold and sculpt divine statues of the most resplendent jade.
Xie Lian was not the sort of person who would ever ask for such things, but there was nothing Hua Cheng was not willing to do in order to finally and properly express his admiration and gratitude. Though on some level Hua Cheng was deeply nervous to meet him again, he was far, far more excited for the honor.
It would be a whole day before Hua Cheng finally heard the news that His Highness was planning to depart heaven. Compared to eight hundred years of waiting, this was just the blink of an eye, and yet every single second between was like an eternity.
***
Hua Cheng couldn’t believe this.
His Highness would be descending on a mission in the north for the emperor. Was this supposed to be penance for their fight the last time he ascended? What else could it be? Since when did the emperor appoint members of the upper court as his personal lackeys?
It was a sign of his disrespect. It was almost a show of ownership.
Either way, His Highness was apparently willing. He had been promised merits in exchange for this favor to help pay off part of his newly incurred debt—a debt that wasn’t even his fault. It’s not like people could control the force of their ascensions!
He was going on this mission alone, too.
According to Black Water, the civil official Ling Wen asked if anyone could spare a couple of deputies to assist in a mission for Jun Wu, but Mu Qing immediately guessed it was actually for His Highness and stated his theory loudly.
This all but guaranteed that no one would volunteer to help.
Hua Cheng was making a list of people who were going to pay for their disrespect, and thirty-four was right at the top of his list. So far, only Ling Wen was avoiding his wrath.
“So, Thirty-five didn’t offer to lend a hand either?” he scoffed.
“Nope,” replied Black Water. “Not sure if he was even in the array, though. He stays out of politics.”
Hua Cheng shook his head in amazement.
Neither Thirty-four nor Thirty-five would even have a place in heaven today if not for His Highness raising them up in their youth, and yet now they treated him like this? What ungrateful trash!
“So, he’s not getting any help from heaven. How typical,” Hua Cheng growled for the sake of complaining.
“Please don’t tell me you want me to help,” groaned Black Water.
“Why would I ask you to go help when I can go myself? Where exactly is he off to?”
“Mount Yujun. There are rumors of a ghost groom snatching up brides during marriage processions over the mountain. I guess it’s happened off and on over the years, but this time whatever did it left a severed human foot.”
“Why isn’t Ming Guang taking care of this? That’s his territory,” said Hua Cheng incredulously.
“Why are you asking me?”
“Nevermind. You can go back to your plotting and scheming.”
“Thank you. You’ve been hounding me like I’m your Waning Moon Officer.”
“If I could actually get him back into heaven, I wouldn’t bother with you. Maybe you shouldn’t have made yourself so useful,” replied Hua Cheng.
“I say that to myself every single day.”
Hua Cheng snorted and exited the telepathic array as he jumped up from the bed.
While he was angry on His Highness’s behalf, he was very excited not to have anyone getting in his way.
There were only two villages on Mount Yujun: the homes of the brides and the grooms. His Highness would be descending to one or the other.
Hua Cheng visited both right away, leaving several butterfly wraith patrols. When His Highness came to investigate, at least one of them should catch sight of him. If the silver butterflies could see him, then so could Hua Cheng.
In the meantime, Hua Cheng took a walk through the woods, following the trail the marriage procession must have taken. As he did so, he was left to wonder what their reunion might be like. What was His Highness like now?
Black Water said he’d been soft-spoken and polite, but that didn’t mean much in a place like heaven. Few acted like their genuine selves in a gossip farm like that.
The last time Hua Cheng saw the Crown Prince, he’d been in a pretty bad way, with little faith left in people or himself. That said, Hua Cheng had seen the proof that he hadn’t lost all his spirit or given up on the world yet. So what about now? Had he ever rebuilt his confidence? Did he regain that regal bearing of the crown prince, or had the world beaten him down further into a shadow of his former self? How would he respond to meeting a ghost king?
Would he ever accept an invitation to Ghost City?
Most importantly, how would His Highness react when their eyes met for the very first time? Would he be drawn to the ghost on some instinctual level? Would some part of him inexplicably know this was more than just some stranger he was passing on the road?
As Hua Cheng walked, he kept his eyes peeled, looking for fluttering white cultivator robes amongst the tall dark trees. Any moment he could stumble upon him. The mere possibility kept his dead heart aflutter, his fists clenched with apprehension. He couldn’t recall ever feeling so giddy.
He was also very indecisive.
Should he approach him? Should he take the form of some forgettable traveler? Ask for directions? Ask him if he needed directions? Should he flirt to see how he reacted to that kind of advance?
Maybe he could pretend to trip on this uneven dirt trail and give His Highness a chance to catch him.
He shook the thought from his head. That was far too indulgent.
No, he needed to be someone helpful. Someone who could assist him in this mission, perhaps. Maybe a wandering fellow cultivator? Maybe he was here to investigate the same thing?
Despite his many fantasies about impossibly romantic first meetings, Hua Cheng didn’t expect something all that special. It would likely be a mundane situation. A pair of travelers pausing to have a little chat. He could always ‘stumble’ on His Highness again later and offer to help properly.
Though deep down he would love to be recognized in an instant, it would also be a relief to approach this as a stranger—a clean slate without any baggage between them or direct ties to that dismal time after the fall of their kingdom.
If His Highness had long since moved on, it was all the better. They could both move forward together and build something wonderfully fresh. Hua Cheng had often agonized about how powerless he’d been to help in the past, but with a brand new start, he could leave all of that behind him too.
Hua Cheng found the place along the trail where the violent event with the bridal sedan had occurred. The signs were clear in the dirt. The blood-spattered tracks were chaotic, mixed with footprints of something inhuman. There were also the paw prints of large wolves in the mud. They’d mucked everything up, making it hard to see exactly how it all played out.
It couldn’t be a coincidence that this creature or these creatures were hunting brides and that this region was the purview of Ming Guang, the so-called god of love. All of this was his fault somehow.
Interestingly enough, Hua Cheng had not spotted a single temple to Ming Guang in either village. He’d even asked, and the villagers simply directed him to their temples to Jun Wu or Nan Yang.
Thirty-five’s temple was probably their replacement god in matters of love, considering his scandalous alias as General Big Dick. That still didn’t explain why Ming Guang had been replaced. They were right in the middle of his territory, the north, so why would these people favor a temple to the martial god of the Southeast?
Hua Cheng had been in this region some centuries ago, and he was almost positive there had been a large and grandiose temple to Ming Guang right at the top of this mountain. So what had happened?
He put a finger to his temple and contacted his right-hand man, the Waning Moon Officer.
“Yin Yu, I need you to dig up some information. I need to know anything interesting to do with General Ming Guang and the Mount Yujun region. Anything that might have happened to put him on the peoples’ bad side, or vice versa.”
There was a pause, and his officer responded, “Yes, chengzhu. I’m on it.”
Hua Cheng backtracked a ways and took the overgrown road turnoff in the direction he remembered this temple to be. He was curious to see for himself if it still stood or not. As he drew closer, the air became dense with yin energy—a sure sign of a well-established ghost lair. There was something incredibly malevolent going on somewhere down this path. Hua Cheng could already smell blood and knew many bodies must lay ahead. That temple was most definitely the source of whatever was happening here.
Hua Cheng wanted to continue investigating. However, it dawned on him that he was basically just doing His Highness’s job at this point. He shouldn’t get too far ahead and accidentally get involved. He really should leave the actual work to the god who had been assigned to it. He’d never want to steal his glory or take away His Highness’s first chance to prove his competency. He needed only to step in and help if it was necessary.
Hua Cheng tucked himself away nearby and kept his concentration on his butterflies, waiting for the moment His Highness would arrive. If he didn’t investigate the towns, he would still eventually end up on this road.
The ghost king was missing his right eye, which now existed in the hilt of his scimitar, and though this was occasionally troublesome and inconvenient, over the years he’d cultivated the ability to see other things on that side.
Right now, within the void of that empty socket, Hua Cheng was rapidly flipping between the viewpoints of thirty-something butterflies, all hoping to catch sight of his god at long last. He couldn't help but wonder if the image he had of him had become distorted over the years or not. How much had he strayed from reality with every new statue that he’d carved?
As the afternoon grew late, Hua Cheng became a little worried.
“Black Water. Has His Highness left yet?” he asked into their communication array.
“He left this morning,” replied Black Water, his irritation palpable. “Right after he met with Ling Wen.”
Hua Cheng blinked with confusion. It had been a whole day. The sun was about to set. If not here, just where the hell had he landed when he jumped down from the heavens?
One possibility crept into Hua Cheng’s mind and he felt a cold shiver run down his back. He didn’t even want to think about that possibility, even if it was the most likely one.
What if His Highness never intended to do this mission at all? What if he’d simply abandoned heaven a third time already? Of course he would! Why the hell would he do a mission for the man he’d stabbed the last time?!
Did anyone see where he landed? Was Hua Cheng now back to square one?
Has he slipped through my fingers again?