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It has been already 100 years since Wuming last saw His Highness. Since he was a witness of his death. Since he was useless enough to not be able to do anything other than look. Since selfishly deciding to destroy his lifeless body to be able to keep it close to himself every day in the form of ashes later turned into a ring. To match his own already kept on his chest under his robes. The two rings were clanking softly from time to time, from being on one necklace.
Mount Tonglu opened and closed, this time without anyone becoming a new ghost king. Good. One less thing to worry about this century. The whole process was awful even on him, though. The calling of the Kiln was powerful and overwhelming for any and every ghost. He would need a place to be able to rest during that time when it comes the next century. He’s already working on it.
He would also need a name. As much as he loved anything His Highness ever gave him, being called something other than “nameless” when he tried to establish a city would be more preferable. To gain anyone’s respect with “Wuming” for a name would be close to impossible. It wasn’t fitting for a city lord. It hurts, to let go of one of His Highness’ gifts but he doesn’t really have a choice. Nothing wrong would happen with that, right?
**
200 years passed. A former scholar named He Xuan left Mount Tonglu twelve years after it opened and so becoming a new calamity. His only objective and sole reason of existence was revenge and Hua Cheng knew something about it, so he offered to help if needed but he refused. Typical. What was he even thinking, trying to help some random ghost? Be it like that.
Seven months later, He Xuan visited him to beg for food. Hua Cheng gave him what he needed, because he knew something about starving himself. He despised the feeling even now, when he theoretically didn’t need to eat anymore. Some traumas stayed with you even after death, it would seem like.
Also, His Highness educated him well on being nice to others. He knew better than to be bitter just because. So, even if his intentions weren’t as selfless as His Highness would have liked them to be, he did what he was taught. Thus making He Xuan forever grateful and indebted to him. He had to try live with it now, the stupid fish.
**
Once again, a new calamity was born 300 years after Hua Cheng first formed as a ghost. He was a slippery one, that new ghost king. The only thing anyone knew about him was that he always wore a mask, covering half of his face. And also, his color choice was silver. Because every ghost king had a color theme for some reason. A side effect of being a powerful being, it seemed like.
Hua Cheng counted every single year that passed, trying not to forget. But not to forget what? It seemed he already did, a bit. It scared him. After all, that person was his most important memory. That person was the reason he was still alive; a cursed ghost staying with his status as a heavenly official only because of the convenience of it.
He can’t forget more. He can’t. That person’s smile was the most radiant thing he ever saw, making the Sun look dim in comparison. A perfect curve of gentle lips, showing just a bit of pearl-white teeth. A beautiful, soft nose, wrinkling slightly because of the power od that smile, right alongside the skin around his warm honey-brown eyes.
That person was everything to Hua Cheng. And yet…
**
Some idiots saw him extending his umbrella over a lone white flower he felt indescribable longing and grief for and gave him a title of Crimson Rain Sough Flower. That was the last time he ever thought about his confusing past, knowing anything about it.
It seemed as if he left his memories by that flower. He doesn’t even know why he stopped by it that day.
**
Hua Cheng was 400 years old today and He Xuan decided to bother him in his mansion. The fishy ghost king asked him about some god for some reason and Hua Cheng didn’t know who he was talking about. He Xuan looked at him in silence with his almost permanent scowl deepened on his face before walking away. Probably to the kitchen to stuff his face with anything he could find in there. Whatever, Hua Cheng didn’t care. It’ll go on his debt anyway. Not that he was ever going to be able to pay that thing in full.
**
At 500 years since his death, Hua Cheng wondered about the ashes worn on his neck. Which ones were his? Where did the second ones come from? Whom did they belong to? And just why was he wearing them? Did someone give them to him? No, the rings looked almost identical, they both for sure were made by him. Why, though?
Both rings felt equally important to him, as if both of them were made out of his ashes. But no, that’s impossible, they each had different energies in them. They were made from different bodies, that’s for sure. Whose body was he guarding alongside his? He didn’t know. And it’s not like he could just ask anyone, even He Xuan, the freeloader. Ghost’s ashes were something personal, intimate. He just couldn’t do it. Not to someone, whose ashes felt so important.
If anyone could tell him why he felt such an indescribable sadness each time he focused on these rings, he would be forever grateful.
**
These two heavenly officials who seemed to hate him for some reason walked into his city. Hua Cheng didn’t know what they were expecting to happen other than being thrown out immediately. He wasn’t in a mood for a fight today. He never even knew for what reason were they fighting him. Maybe they were simply bored. Or he did something to them in the past. Who knows.
He doesn’t care either way.
**
At 700 years after his death… Hua Cheng was tired. Why was he even here, still? What was his reason for staying as a ghost? A ghost king even? Was it maybe somehow connected to that couple od rings he wore on a necklace? (Which one was his?) Or maybe to that title he gained from people for some reason?
He didn’t know. He didn’t know an answer to any of these questions and it drove him insane. He couldn’t force himself to destroy the rings as only just the thought of it filled him with dread and made him panic. He can’t destroy the wrong ring that is not made from his own body. He just can’t. He also can’t allow anyone else to do it. The second ring is too important to destroy.
He still doesn’t know which ring is his.
He was so, so, so fucking tired…
**
On the anniversary of his 800th year of being a ghost, Hua Cheng decided to join the new heavenly official on his stupid mission at Pei Ming’s territory, out of all the places possible. Nobody else seemed interested in aiding the newbie, which, rude much, what did he even do? Of course, he wasn’t joining him officially, as he himself wasn’t keen on being in the heavenly capital, ever. (He never resigned from being a heavenly official himself, though. For some reason he didn’t know. He might have stayed for the drama, though.)
Hua Cheng changed his appearance to a slightly younger and more approachable one with two normal dark eyes before teleporting himself to the village closest to Mount Yujun – that is, to the place the mission was going to take place in. He looked around for a bit, then decided to wait in a tea shop. Upon walking inside, he immediately spotted an ethereal-looking figure in flowy robes and a mask sitting in one of the corners of the shop. Everything on him was silver, even his long hair. Hua Cheng stopped in the doorway, confused for just a second.
That for sure was the famously unreachable fourth ghost king. Was he the new heavenly official sent on this mission? If so, it was no wonder no self-righteous official wanted to join him. It was turning out to be interesting.
(Also, just why the three currently existing ghost kings were all heavenly officials? That was just too funny.)
Hua Cheng smiled, first to himself then slightly wider, before starting again on his way to the fellow ghost king. “So fancy seeing you there, Silver Mask Guiding Lost,” he said with genuine excitement almost unnoticeable in his voice, grabbing the attention of warm honey-brown eyes looking at him from behind a mask. “Or should I call you Xie Lian, as you introduced yourself in heaven?”
Xie Lian stood up and smiled back at Hua Cheng, his expression destroying any thoughts of him appearing unapproachable from anyone who could see him right now (it was only Hua Cheng and the owner of the tea shop). “Do as you wish, Crimson Rain Sough Flower. Pleased to meet you.”
After returning each other’s polite bows, Xie Lian sit down again, gesturing for Hua Cheng to take a sit as well. He offered him tea, which both of them drank in silence at first. “Say…” Xie Lian started several seconds later, tentatively. He cleared his throat and filled both of their cups again before asking, “Do I… know you?”
Xie Lian – the name woke something up in Hua Cheng. Something deep inside him, forgotten a long time ago. Something so very important. What was it? Why did he forget?
He still didn’t know. He knew nothing. It was starting to drive him insane.
Hua Cheng swallowed nothing and drummed his nails on the table – a nervous human gesture he never seemed capable to get rid of, thinking. “I don’t think so, no,” he answered finally, smiling politely despite the million feelings trying to gnaw on his insides. Trying to tell him he was wrong, somehow. But he wasn’t wrong, was he? He didn’t recognize this person and he wouldn’t even without the mask concealing half of his face, he’s sure of it. Or, as sure as he could be, with unknown grief trying to eat him whole. He felt nauseous.
But even with the turmoil in his head and the rest of his body failing in being obedient to him, he stayed by Silver Mask’s side, trying to aid him in his mission. Even getting rid of the two “minor” officials "volunteering” to help Xie Lian. They were really annoying. And weirdly familiar. As if they needed their help, anyway.
*
Turned out the one who was making such a ruckus on Mount Yujun was one of Pei Ming’s former lovers – a ghost lady by the name Xuan Ji. Pathetic man, that official. He couldn’t even be bothered to descent himself to take her in, instead sending his descendant. Lazy too.
Xie Lian was refreshingly pleasant to be around; Hua Cheng doesn’t remember the last time he enjoyed spending time with anyone, as old and depressed as he was. And so, it hurt him to split ways but he really, truly wasn’t going to return to the Heavenly Capital with Xie Lian, he’s had enough of this place for this century (he was up there for half an incense max several days before). Also, he had something to do in Ghost City anyway.
And so, he waved to Silver Mask, saying, “See you later, Dianxia,” the title falling from his lips without any reason. But it felt right to call him that, even if it made him confused at not knowing the reason why. At hearing the title, Xie Lian’s eyes became comically wide and his lips formed around a syllable he wasn’t able to say before disappearing in the heavenly light taking him, Xuan Ji and Pei Ming’s people to the Heavenly Capital.
Hua Cheng instantly felt lonely and numb, as if something vital was once again took from his existence. It was confusing. It made him promise himself to meet with Xie Lian again as soon as possible.
*
Several days later (too soon and not quick enough equally), Hua Cheng joined an ox cart going to a place called Puqi Village. Soon enough, Xie Lian appeared, asking the cartman for a ride. The old man, predictably, agrees. When Xie Lian notices Hua Cheng lying next to him on the hay, he turns to him and asks with a smile on his face, “Would you like to join me for several days, Hua Cheng?”
Hua Cheng wants to join him for forever, honestly. He agrees without thinking.
*
Hua Cheng busied himself with making a door for the poor excuse of a shrine Xie Lian has claimed as his own, for some reason. He liked doing manual labor, to some extent. And whatever makes the man happy, he guesses.
The day was unbearably hot and so he shrugged off one layer of his outer robes, not thinking much of it. He didn’t notice the necklace with two diamond rings he always wore becoming noticeable as well, not being hidden by the red fabric anymore. They sparkled under the sun and so grabbed the attention of the other ghost, who just so happened to walk by with a basket of freshly washed laundry.
“Oh,” Xie Lian said suddenly, startling Hua Cheng into stopping chopping wood into shapes he needed, lest he chopped something off from his body. Not that he cared much of it, with him being dead and all, but he just didn’t want to make a mess out of the place.
Hua Cheng put down the axe he was holding and straightened himself up as soon as he saw Xie Lian putting down the basket and walking closer, his gaze fixated on the rings. Hua Cheng really wasn’t expecting the next words coming out of the other’s mouth, as he moved his hand as if to grab the necklace he became aware of. “So that’s where my ashes went. I was wondering…”
“Wait,” Hua Cheng demanded, grabbing (gently) Xie Lian’s hand, which was so close to his unmoving chest. His still heart hurt. “Wait,” he only repeated, confused out of his mind. Xie Lian smiled softly and directed his free hand to rest right next to Hua Cheng’s right eye and caressed him under his closed eyelid. Not making any move to free his left hand, still held by Hua Cheng.
“I wasn’t sure before, but now I know I’m not mistaken. Thank you for taking care of that for me for so long… San Lang.”
His name. His stupid name he asked to hear from Xie Lian and Xie Lian alone so long ago. Lifetimes ago. When he was still alive. When Xie Lian was still alive. Oh, Dianxia, the second ashes he wore on his neck were Xie Lian’s and that’s why he couldn’t force himself to destroy any of them, even while lacking the memory needed to recognize them.
“Ge—gege, how—” how could I forget you all these years? He couldn’t say anything else, the tears and sobs making him unable to do anything else than to fell on his knees with Xie Lian held close, close, close to his body, closer than his ashes could ever be, despite lying on his skin right next to his useless heart. His head hurt from memories reappearing in it, his unnecessary, empty lungs ached from tremors wrecking his whole body. He could focus only on the trembling form of Xie Lian in his arms, his lips opening and closing without words.
“Shh, San Lang, I’m here now. I’m here, San Lang,” Xie Lian whispered straight to his ear, also crying uncontrollably. He took the mask off sometime ago and threw it on the grass, uncaring for its condition at the moment. His bare nose was touching the shell of Hua Cheng’s ear and his right hand grabbing the material of his white inner robe. His left arm was squished between them, still in Hua Cheng’s hold.
“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, so sorry,” Hua Cheng finally found himself saying, hugging the body even closer to himself, willing for them to become one, to never, ever separate again. 800 years was a lot.
“What are you sorry for, San Lang?” Xie Lian mumbled, still close to his ear.
“I’m sorry…” for letting you die, for not making a proper funeral for your body, for forgetting about you, how could I even do that? For—
“No, stop, it’s okay, you’re hurting, don’t apologize to me right now, San Lang. Don’t ever apologize, it wasn’t your fault, any of this.”
Hua Cheng only sobbed harder before forcing himself to separate from Xie Lian to arm’s length and open his singular eye, having found himself reverting to his original body without thinking about it. He looked at Xie Lian’s bare face, drinking in the sight of his beautiful, kind eyes, swollen from all the crying. Xie Lian was smiling, perfect with tears streaming down his face and struggling to take in unnecessary breaths. He was perfect, so perfect, just as he always was. With silvery-white hair and almost funeral robes or dressed in reds and gold.
“Dianxia, gege, I love you,” Hua Cheng said, looking at the god in front of him with all the emotions locked in his mind for centuries, but still so abundant and true.
“I love you too, San Lang,” Xie Lian promised back, seeing his most devoted believer he ever had and never truly lost. He hugged the other man again, making sure to leave a kiss on the matching rings still present on his neck. Hua Cheng hugged back with all his might, making them fall on the grass behind him.
They finally found each other, after so many centuries. Now, they had so much more years going forward. Together.