Chapter Text
Xie Lian had to learn how to be resourceful in the past 600 years. How to turn scraps and songs into food and shelter and warm robes.
Now, after a century worth of deathless agony, he was finally out of the coffin and he had absolutely nothing save for the butterfly mask he was buried in and the bloody dowel he was buried around. But what was a half-millenia old opportunist like him good for if he couldn’t make trash into treasure? He just had to sell a story to the right sucker. So really, even with just his grave goods, he was a rich man.
That’s how he found himself in the Gambler’s Den before the unreasonably attractive lord of Ghost City, trying to wager his nothings for food and maybe a roof above his head. The rabble of ghosts seemingly found his request boring after the bets asking for fortunes, vengeance, the throne or the hand of the handsome ghost king. Despite the mundane appeal, Hua Cheng motioned to Xie Lian to place his side of the bet, humoring him.
“I heard that the esteemed Chengzu is a collector of weapons.” Xie Lian spoke with the confidence and optimism of a much, much luckier person.
“Of great weapons, yes. I hope the mysterious daozhang also heard what I do to people who waste my precious time with ordinary gadgets.” He already sounded dismissive. Not a great start, but Xie Lian didn’t travel this far based on some gossip to back out now.
“Is my Lord familiar with the tale of the Gilded Banquet of Yong’an? Of the Villainous State Preceptor?” It should have been at least a bit shameful to talk about his past like some great legend but after so many years, the skin on his face was thicker than the layers of blood in his coffin.
“Oh? The one whose mask Daozhang seems to have stolen somehow? I am familiar with the story. That’s how I know his sword was not buried with him. And it was nothing exceptional to begin with. Ordinary blade with a talented wielder.”
Xie Lian coughed and blushed a little at the praise. He lamented that if he still had Fang Xin, his very much not ordinary sword, he would have a better wager now. In any case, Hua Cheng being familiar with the story might make this easier. “Chengzu is of course very well informed, the weapon I’m betting is not his sword.”
Hua Cheng heaved an impatient sigh and gestured for him to continue. Right. Xie Lian had to sell the story.
“Nearly a century after the callous traitor Fang Xin betrayed the late king of Yong’An, the thrice-sealed coffin was opened.” He cleared his throat. “There, with the body of the State Preceptor, caked in blood and resentful energy,” He was rummaging in his sleeve. “...a walnut dowel.” Now, he was swinging the piece of wood, which was in fact clearly emanating evil. “I’m sure my Lord knows what powerful spirits can be born of bloodshed. The young crown prince’s vengeance seems to have created a mighty weapon. With a bit of work, it could become” Xie Lian hesitated “ …a dagger?” Losing his confidence, he started to feel hysterical. It took him half a night to come up with any potential for the forsaken peg and hoped that the powerful ghost king couldn’t see through his bullshit.
“Daozhang must take me for a fool.” Well, fuck. Hua Cheng had an excited expression that sent chills down Xie Lian’s spine. “If every squabble of some idiot would result in a worthy spiritual weapon…” The ghost king raised two of his fingers in a beckoning motion and the dowel was snatched from Xie Lian’s hand. As Hua Cheng inspected the wood, his cruel smile turned into a frown.
“You said you found it beside Fang Xin’s corpse? Daozhang should know I’ll take his lying as a death wish.” Killing intent was flowing in the Den like steam. “And I’m in the generous mood to grant such wishes.” Xie Lian didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. If only death was that easy for him, he would have lied to this beautiful man a hundred times while in the coffin. Or tied to an altar.
“I said I found it with his body.” He said with petulant honesty. The lord of the city laughed like he heard the punchline of a joke.
“Forgive me. I didn’t realize I was betting against the famed State Preceptor.” Hua Cheng’s voice was mocking but his expression transformed into something uncertain like he was working out a riddle. “Who is apparently immortal.” He said, softer. His one eye was staring into Xie Lian’s, trying to see behind the mask.