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Xie Lian comes to with a groan. The last thing he remembers is the pull of a dull blade against his throat, the scent of iron, and a coffin placed right in his eye line, just waiting for him to bleed out. At least he wasn’t trapped for long this time. Based on the rumbling beneath his back, he’s laying on a cart of some kind. Ah, seems I’ve been dug up by grave robbers again.
“Whoa what the fuck? That one isn’t dead.” A nasal voice to his left says.
“It was buried! Definitely dead!” A low voice from his right, this time.
He isn’t really back enough to move with intent, but it seems his twitching was too obvious. Hopefully they just dump him, not try to get him the rest of the way dead. Again. Always so bothersome to have to revive twice.
“Not dead, sorry! I’m, ah, rather bad at dying.” He says as non-threateningly as a former corpse possibly can.
Both voices scream in harmony, and he sighs. Not non-threatening enough, I guess. Oh well, it’s not like they can do anything that hasn’t been done before.
When he finally gets his eyes to focus enough for a good look at the grave robbers, it is immediately obvious that they’re dead, themselves. This is far from the first time he’s been hauled off by ghosts, and it’s probably far from the last.
The nasal voice belongs to a tall, thin ghost, who would look mostly human were it not for the grey-blue color of his skin. Not the grey-blue of suffocation or drowning, more the color of foggy skies over the open ocean. As someone who has drowned under the foggy skies of the open ocean, Xie Lian feels uniquely qualified to make that distinction.
The deep voice belongs to a tall, broad ghost. He’s burly, perhaps he was a blacksmith in life. It certainly seems possible, given how his form seems to fade into soot at the edges, his eyes the bright color of metal sparks. Xie Lian thinks he might smell slightly of a hearth, though he’s unsure if that is just a side effect of his nerves reconnecting after his most recent death.
“What’s going on back there?” A third voice says from the front of the cart, “Yer scaring the damn horses. Ya know how hard it is to get them to trust us.”
“We got a live one!”
“We’ve gotten live ones before. Just throw it off the back like usual.”
“His throat is slit ear to ear and he’s talking.”
“And? We’re ghosts. We’ve found undead things in graves before, that’s how we found you, Four.”
“I swear he’s alive alive, like breathing alive.” The burly ghost- Four, apparently- says, still nervously eyeing Xie Lian.
“Oh for fuck’s sake, ya ain’t this fresh out the grave.” The driver huffs, and the cart clatters to a halt.
A head with far, far too many eyes appears in front of Xie Lian.
“Well, I’ll be damned. Thing really is breathing.” He says, despite not having a mouth.
“Told you, One!”
“Hold on, are your names just numbers?” Xie Lian asks, unsure if he’s really seeing ghosts or if they’re just a post-death hallucination.
“Yup!” One says proudly, “Got the idea to name ourselves One and Three-” He nods towards Xie Lian’s left- “-so that any lousy ghost hunters would waste their time looking for Two and we could escape!”
“Very clever.” Xie Lian laughs, making his massive, horrifying neck wound wobble.
“You sure you ain’t dead?” Three asks.
“Yes, very sure. I can’t die.”
“What, like yer immortal?” One’s many eyebrows raise.
“Not exactly.”
The three ghosts exchange glances over his head. One’s eyes split between Three and Four, unnerving but probably very convenient, Xie Lian has to admit. Whatever silent argument they’re engaged in is abruptly halted by the arrival of a new creature. This one is a lot more menacing than the three who dug him out of a grave, Xie Lian thinks. Probably a lot stronger too. A pity, seems like he’ll spend the next few days reviving yet again.
The beast is massive, as tall as three Xie Lians and nearly as wide. It has no head, but is otherwise mostly human. The exception of course is the one large eye in the center of its chest and mouth on its waist. It carries an executioner’s axe, which looks comically small in the monster’s giant hand.
“Well, looks like you did all the digging for me. And I even get some ghosts for dessert.”
Apparently, not having a head has greatly stifled the beast’s ability to come up with on the spot commentary.
“Run for it, Four!” One shouts and takes up his shovel.
Ah, the diversion they mentioned! Very clever, but it does not appear that the beast can count. It swings its axe wildly and Xie Lian moves to counter. He’s still slow from his most recent death, but much faster than the lumbering beast. He knocks the handle of the axe, deflecting it enough to get in close. Ruoye finishes the job, slicing clean through the beast’s chest.
“Wow, dead guy’s got moves!”
“Yeah, dead guy!”
This is by far not the worst nickname Xie Lian has been given, and the ghosts seem to mean it as a compliment, a symbol of camaraderie.
“Oh no, dead guy, look out!”
Xie Lian turns around just in time to see the monster’s corpse slump forward axe first. He then sees his body drop to the ground while his head falls a few feet away. Ruoye quickly moves to drag his parts back together and he thanks it silently, throat currently too filled with blood to speak.
“Okay, now he’s dead.” One says solemnly, “We should probably bury him.”
No, no! Not dead! Please don’t put me in the ground!
“Why not just take him with us?” Four murmurs, “We were going to bringing him to the butcher, originally.”
Bury me! Ground is better than ground meat!
“No way! He saved our asses, we can’t eat him.” Three smacks Four over the head.
As the ghosts argue, Xie Lian regains enough body control to twitch.
“Did you both see that?” Four whispers.
“We sure fucking did! Dead guy! Still kicking?” Three yells, much too loud for poor, still mostly dead Xie Lian.
He manages to groan, wet and pathetic.
“Holy shit, dude, that’s crazy. Do you feel okay?” Three says.
“Obviously not, dumbass! He just got his head chopped off!” One slugs him in the shoulder.
“Well, I don’t fucking know! Maybe ‘cuz he’s immortal he doesn’t feel it or something.”
“I feel it.” Xie Lian rasps.
“Do ya feel it every time?” One asks, horrified.
“Yes.”
“We gotta take him with us.” Four declares.
“We are not fucking eating him-” Three gets ready to deck him again, and Four waves his hands frantically.
“Not to eat!” He shouts, “He’s definitely cursed! Maybe Chengzhu could help him.”
“As if some weird undying guy is worth his time.” One sighs.
“It would be if we took him to the den! He’s broken tons of curses like that.”
“That’s true. Alright, let’s bring him. Dead guy, we’re going to get you a new name!” One shouts, and the others cheer.
Ruoye continues to hold his head on as the ghosts help him back onto the cart. Mercifully, he is not put with the corpses, instead allowed to ride propped on One’s shoulder up front. He could probably escape if he wanted, but these ghosts have been so nice to him so far. They aren’t even trying to eat him anymore! Which is more than he can say for other ghosts who’ve dug him out of graves. If anything, his inability to stay down made him the perfect meal. Infinitely regenerating fresh meat.
“So, dead guy,” Three pipes up from the back, “What’s with the fucking ribbon? Thing stinks of resentment and death, not the kinda thing an immortal ought to be carrying around.”
“Ah, well, most of it was mine.” His voice comes out strange, not just due to his recent beheading.
“Fucking hell, dead guy.” Three mutters, which about sums it up.
There’s a painfully awkward silence after that. Xie Lian starts falling asleep, despite himself. It’s hard to keep his eyes open after dying twice in as many days.
“Rest, dead guy. We’ll tell ya when we get to the city. And we won’t let anything eat ya.” One says gently.
That is not reassuring, considering I had to stop you three from getting eaten earlier!
“Idiot, if anything tries to eat him we’re all screwed.” Three snipes, and Xie Lian laughs a little.
“Wake me if anything tries to eat us.”
Nothing tries to eat them, but Xie Lian still wakes the moment they enter the city. Between the harsh shift in aura as they pass through the veil and loud clamoring of the crowds, he’s jolted from sleep. It’s absolutely fascinating here. His eyes widen as he tries to take it all in. Yes, there is human meat on skewers at a lot of the food stalls, but he knew there would be. Mostly he’s just impressed at the strangeness of this place and how... nice it is to be around others who don’t know when to stay dead.
“Yo, One!” Calls a large man(?) with the head of a boar, “New shipment for me? You know Chengzhu doesn’t let us cook live ones.” He points at Xie Lian.
“Not eating him! He’s cursed and he’s weird and we like him.” Four shouts as he unloads the cart.
“Sure, why not,” The boar shrugs, “Weirder stuff happens here all the time. You gonna get him uncursed?”
“Yeah, we’re taking him to the den.” One says.
“Damn, that bad? Well, you’re in luck, or maybe not. Chengzhu’s in but he’s pissed as I’ve ever seen him.”
The three ghosts nod solemnly, and Four lifts Xie Lian off the cart.
“Oh, I can walk, you don’t need to worry about me!”
“You literally just reattached your own head. ‘Don’t worry about me,’ dead guy c’mon. Obviously we’re going to worry.” Four huffs and princess carries Xie Lian towards a large red building.
The architecture is so familiar, and dread settles over Xie Lian. If the lord they’re meeting is old enough to remember and imitate the royal palaces of the kingdom he killed, Xie Lian is definitely going to die yet again today.
They enter the main hall, and a new wave of horror hits him. This is a gambling den. Not only is Xie Lian going to die, his new friends are going to lose whatever they plan to bet. He is cursed after all, and he deserves it. Maybe he should’ve tried to run. He’s not supposed to get close for this exact reason. Even if these new friends can’t die in the literal sense, that doesn’t mean they have nothing to lose. How selfish of him to stay.
“Actually, I can deal with the curse, really, it’s fine-” Xie Lian starts, but it’s lost in the chatter of the crowds. Of course. This is why he should’ve left when he had the chance.
“So how do we get the lord’s attention?” Four asks, not knowing that the lord in question has been staring at the man in his arms since they entered the room.
“I don’t know, I’ve never bet that big before.” One shouts back.
“Well, what if I just-” Three pauses to clear his throat, “We’re here to make a bet with you, m’lord!” He hollers before One can slap a hand over his mouth.
“Are ya crazy?” He hisses, “Yer just gonna piss him off, yelling like that-”
“Well, step forward then.” A velvety voice comes from behind sheer curtains in the center of the room.
“We are all going to fucking die, ya idiot!” One whispers and smacks Three, “Then how are we supposed to get dead guy uncursed!”
Still, their ragtag group steps up and stands in front of the curtained throne. One and Three are twitchy, while Four has frozen in place.
“Ah, well...” One mumbles and trails off.
“Get on with it.”
One seems to be too nervous to comply. Three, well meaning but big mouthed, is the only one still able to speak. He bows and grabs the back of One’s head to force him down as well. Four is spared the rough treatment so he doesn’t drop Xie Lian. The lord hasn’t immediately struck them all dead where they stand so he mustn’t be to offended by the transgression.
“My lord,” Three says too loudly, “This guy saved our hides and he’s cursed to not die. Which doesn’t sound like a curse, but we saw what it looks when he’s coming back and he feels it the whole time. And that’s fucking terrifying, right? Just awful. Can you uncurse him, my lord?”
“It’s really not that bad-” Xie Lian says, sheepishly waving his hands in front of himself.
“Yer holding your head on manually.” One scolds.
A cloud of- silver? Ah, I wish my vision didn’t get so strange after losing my head- swarms them. Or, it at least swarms Xie Lian and by extension Four. Despite bracing himself for impact and feeling Four do the same, the cloud doesn’t seem at all harmful. After a moment, it dissipates, leaving behind nothing but a single butterfly perched on the bridge of Xie Lian’s nose. He goes cross-eyed trying to get a better look at it.
“Hi there,” He says, surprised that his voice sounds normal, “Aren’t you just the cutest little thing? Did you heal my neck?”
“Dead guy, those are the lord’s wraith butterflies, a weapon, usually.” One whispers.
“Really? But they’re so pretty.”
“And fucking sharp!” Three adds.
Xie Lian, long accustomed to paying zero attention to his own welfare, reaches out and touches one of the butterfly’s wings. It doesn’t hurt him, but seems to stamp its tiny feet disapprovingly. Though his neck is healed, it seems like the little creatures didn’t replace all the blood he lost. They fixed a lot of it, actually, the amount he would have lost if he’d only lost his head. Unfortunately, not enough because he also bled to death a day prior. He’s still a little woozy, but thanks the butterfly and pets its wings again. It glares at him as best it can without eyebrows.
“Right, sorry. I shouldn’t just grab at you without asking.” He murmurs, and the butterfly settles.
“Anyway, my lord,” Three says, trying to ignore scary bug, “We would like to bet. If we win, you help uncurse him. Or at least make it hurt less? I mean, cursed to live isn’t that bad but if dying still hurts then it just seems like torture. We’ve all died once and it fucking sucked.”
“What do you wager?” The lord drawls, sounding somewhat aloof. The butterfly however refuses to move from Xie Lian’s nose.
“Well, he saved all of us at the expense of himself, least we can do is offer the same! We all bet our ashes!” One declares, confidence seemingly regained.
“What, no! I have terrible luck, I couldn’t live with myself if you all died because of me, one ghost was more than enough.” Xie Lian squirms, forcing Four to put him down.
“Hey, dead guy, I would’ve put you down more gently than that. Didn’t have to try and escape.”
“I can’t let you do this,” Xie Lian says firmly, though he sways a little on his feet, “I am not worth dying for. Not- not again, I can’t-”
“What is your name?” The lord says, stopping Xie Lian from spiralling.
“Ah, Hua Xie.”
The room erupts into chaos. Cries of “he would dare?” and “what are the odds of that?” and “fucking idiot mortal” are all mostly drowned out by laughter.
“Is it fucking really?” Three shrieks, and Xie Lian shakes his head frantically, ignoring how dizzy it makes him.
“No, no, but I’ve been using that name for years, why is everyone yelling?”
“Because the lord’s name is Hua Cheng!”
“Ah. Oops.”
“Why would you use a fake name?” One says, looking like he wants to grab Xie Lian by the shoulders and shake him.
“What is your actual name?” Hua Cheng says, sounding somewhat choked. Oh, I must’ve really upset him.
“Xie Lian, my lord. Deepest apologies, I really have been using that name for years. I would never purposefully mock you.”
“Alright, daozhang,” He says, notably not using the name he just asked for, “This curse intrigues me. I’ve seen something like it before, but I can’t guarantee I’ll be able to break it.”
The crowd once again devolves into shouting, this time along the lines of “there’s nothing our lord can’t do” and “where the fuck would he have seen it before?” and “why not ask for proof that he’s even cursed in the first place?”
“It’s really alright. I have terrible luck; we wouldn’t have won the bet anyway! Thank you for your time, my lord.” Xie Lian bows, but misjudges how incapacitated he still is and pitches forward to land on his face.
“Yo, dead guy! What the fuck was that?” Three yells and crouches beside him to help him up, “Here, hold on to me and Four. Is your face okay?”
“It’s fine, I’m fine.” Xie Lian sputters, blood leaking out his nose.
“You don’t fucking look fine! Where’s your little butterfly friend? Can it heal you again? If- if that’s alright with you, my lord.”
There, on the floor in the little puddle of nose blood, the butterfly lays smushed, wings crumpled and legs torn off.
“Oh,” Xie Lian whispers, voice breaking. Maybe it’s the lingering blood loss or that he literally just died a couple hours ago, but he feels tears start to sting his eyes, “It’s right there. I’m so sorry, little friend.”
Hua Cheng stands, rushing down the stairs. He had intended to say something cool and confident, something like, “I can’t accept the bet. However, if you’d be willing to let me look, I’m willing to try. It’s interesting, being cursed to live.” That all went out the damn window when he saw his God face plant on the floor and cry over a stupid little insect instead of the frankly alarming amount of blood coming out of his broken nose. He plucks it from the ground and carries it over to the two rapidly paling ghosts holding Xie Lian upright. Both exchange a look and the loud one opens his mouth again, only to be beaten to the punch by Xie Lian.
“I’m so sorry, my lord,” He sniffles, “I didn’t mean to hurt your- your- your nice little bug friend!”
Hua Cheng practiced for this moment a lot. A lot. Every hypothetical he could think of, he’d prepared for. However, he had not anticipated that his God would be dragged here, half dead and recently decapitated, and cry over killing a bug that was not even alive to begin with. So, forgive him if he isn’t as smooth as he’d hoped.
“It’s fine, they aren’t real butterflies, they can’t die. Look,” He closes his hand, wincing at the way Xie Lian seems to cry harder at that. When he opens it again, the butterfly is back together like nothing happened, “See? It’s fine.”
It takes flight again, giving a quick demonstration of how well its wings work, before landing on Xie Lian’s nose once more, this time healing the break. Xie Lian sniffs wetly, again going cross-eyed to look at the butterfly. He doesn’t try to touch it this time, though Hua Cheng thinks that has more to do with his fear of hurting the bug than himself. Once Xie Lian’s nose is healed, it scampers up his face and settles on top of his head.
The den is silent, though as soon as it’s rolling again bets will be placed on what the hell just happened. Contenders are that their lord knows this weird guy, doesn’t like when said weird guy cries and bleeds on his floors, and the long shot of love at first sight. (These bets all end in a draw when the city discovers that somehow, all three are true at once.)
Hua Cheng takes another few steps forward, hands twitching with his desire to hold Xie Lian and dry his tears. Although the bleeding has stopped, there’s still a large red smear on his face. Between that and his puffy eyes, he makes a rather unfortunate picture. Hua Cheng will always think he’s gorgeous, but he aches to clean him up so he doesn’t have to feel the tacky, itchy sensation of blood drying on his skin.
“Are you alright, Your Highness?” Hua Cheng asks softly, not noticing the slip, but neither does Xie Lian, “Come here, let me clean your face.”
The ghosts holding him again exchange a look before helping him shuffle over. They will be well rewarded, no matter what else happens tonight. Using the sleeve of his very nice robe, Hua Cheng gently wipes the blood from his upper lip. In an effort to get Xie Lian to stop crying before he does something even more rash like wipe his tears, Hua Cheng starts talking.
“Good thing I wear red anyway,” He says, then, unable to stop now that he’s started, “You know it’s not actually that unusual to cry when one of my butterflies is on your face, though usually not out of concern for it.”
The loud ghost (is his name Three? Hua Cheng doesn’t know for sure and honestly does not care) snorts. Xie Lian chuckles as well, before rubbing harshly at his eyes. Hua Cheng longs to pull his hands away and dab his tears away tenderly like he deserves.
“I really am sorry for making such a mess in your place of business, my lord, then making you take care of me.”
“No one can make me do anything I don’t want to, Your Highness,” Hua Cheng murmurs, and this time Xie Lian does notice the title, “The bet is off. I want to look into your curse, but can’t claim I can fix it right away. Would you be willing to tell me about it, perhaps over a meal?”
“Sure, why not.” He hasn’t killed me yet even though he clearly knows who I am. Even if he changes his mind, there’s nothing he can do to me that hasn’t been done before.
“Then we will depart,” Hua Cheng says, keeping the elation out of his voice, “You three. Report back here tomorrow. Depending on how interesting I find this curse, I will reward you accordingly.”
“Yes sir, thank you sir!” All three say in unison.
Xie Lian is guided to lean on Hua Cheng’s shoulder, who wonders frantically where he’s still injured, if putting his head back on didn’t fix the issue.
“Have fun, dead guy! Keep in touch!” Four waves as they leave.
“Why do they keep calling you that?” Hua Cheng grumbles.
“Ah, I was dead-ish when they found me, my lord. Buried, at least.”
“And yet clearly, now you are not. Why did they keep calling you that?”
“I think they meant it as a term of endearment. They’re dead but came back, and so did I,” He shrugs, “I very much like your city, Chengzhu. It’s nice to be around other people who know what that’s like.”
Hua Cheng does not say anything about any of that, instead dissolving both of them into butterflies and reforming in the manor. As soon as he’s solid again, Xie Lian throws up his meager stomach contents, already so dizzy that the teleportation process made him motion sick.
“Your Highness!” Hua Cheng yelps, one arm around Xie Lian to keep him standing, free hand pulling his hair back.
“Ah, sorry! I keep making a mess of your floors.” Xie Lian says, cringing at the puddle of bile on the nice rug of the foyer.
“That’s not-” Hua Cheng stops himself before he can say anything too telling, “Why did that happen? Where are you still injured?”
“Hmm. It might be blood loss?”
“That should’ve been fixed when I healed your neck.” Hua Cheng’s brow furrows.
“Oh, not from that. From the first neck wound. Hadn’t fully healed by the time I got the second.”
“Your Highness, may I please heal that?”
Xie Lian shrugs and nods. He does not expect Hua Cheng to take his hand and kiss his knuckles, nor the massive rush of energy. It’s more than enough for his dizziness to fade and vision to clear. The first thing he sees is Hua Cheng, still holding his hand. He’s obviously an extremely powerful ghost to maintain a form so perfect. His hair is lush and dark, skin bloodlessly pale, single eye brown and bright. He looks very troubled, which makes sense given how Xie Lian has been nothing but trouble this entire time. There’s still a bloodstain on his sleeve from where he wiped Xie Lian’s face.
“Thank you, my lord, I am honored to receive your hospitality,” Xie Lian says, stepping back so Hua Cheng doesn’t have to hold him. What an indignity for an esteemed city lord. Then, because there’s no use drawing it out, “Where do you know me from?”
Hua Cheng freezes, eye widening in mounting horror. After a long pause, he murmurs, “What does daozhang mean by that?”
“You called me ‘Your Highness’ a few times,” Xie Lian says quietly, “And I noticed the architecture of your den. You must be from Xianle. I’m so, so sorry for what became of it.”
“That was not your fault, Your Highness. You did everything you could.” Hua Cheng tries to be as firm as he can without sounding angry. He’d hate for His Highness to think that anger is directed at him, of all people.
“And it still wasn’t enough.” Xie Lian says softly, a quiet, sullen acceptance of blame that he should not have to take.
“Be that as it may, you still tried. You tried so hard; nothing was ever going to be enough.”
Xie Lian smiles sadly, tears pricking at his eyes again. He did try. He fought and cried and screamed, for all the good it did him. For all the good it did his people, his friends, his family.
“May I assume you also know the exact nature of my curse?”
“Yes, Your Highness. I am... intimately familiar with it.” Hua Cheng cringes at the sudden rush of memories.
“Then you must know that I deserve it.” Xie Lian ducks his head, even that rueful smile cracking.
“You do not. You have suffered enough, more than enough. The heavens have been incredibly cruel to you, Your Highness.” Hua Cheng takes a single step towards him, not quite reaching out no matter how badly he wants to.
“No, they haven’t. I asked for both my shackles. I, and I alone, must repent for what I’ve done.” The only other soul with me already paid the ultimate price.
“But you didn’t do it!” Hua Cheng yells before he can stop himself, taking another step towards Xie Lian, hands hovering like he wants to grab him by the shoulders but doesn’t dare, “You had every reason to release the plague, and you still didn’t do it. You stabbed yourself through the chest to protect someone again. You laid there for three days, waiting for someone to prove they’re worth saving. It would have been so much easier for you to choose hatred, but you never have. You have always been so kind, Your Highness.”
“How...?” Xie Lian’s voice trembles and he takes a step back.
How could he possibly know all of that unless he was there? It can’t be him, can it? He flinches away from Hua Cheng, too panicked to notice the heartbreak in his eye. His back hits the wall behind him and he feels as trapped as he did when he was tied to an altar, when a stake nailed him into a coffin. He starts breathing harder, feeling his ribs press into the wall with each ragged inhale. His thoughts move almost faster than he can track. This can’t be him, it just can’t be. He wasn’t so kind to me. Xie Lian’s skin crawls at the memory of arms draped in mourning robes around his waist, cold clawed fingers touching his cheek tenderly. But what did he mean ‘again?’ The only other time I stabbed myself through the chest back then was with those awful plant demons and that brave little soldier. He wasn’t there for that... was he?
His heart spasms painfully in his chest and he tries to push himself even closer to the wall. Hua Cheng stands before him, hunched over like he’s trying to make himself small. Even still, he’s tall enough to almost tower over Xie Lian.
“Stay back,” Xie Lian mumbles, then shouts, “Stay the hell back! You- you can’t know that! You can’t fucking know that!”
“Your Highness-” His voice is drenched in sorrow.
“Shut up! The only people who know that are dead. All the way dead. That- that monster, and my devoted little ghost. My kind, sweet Wu Ming. I know he’s dead; I’m the one who killed him!”
He puts both hands in his hair and tugs at it, chest heaving. It takes every ounce of his self control to keep Hua Cheng from rushing at him to get him to stop hurting himself, not again, not over something- someone- so unimportant. Instead, he drops to one knee and bows his head.
“No curse could ever keep me from coming back to you, Your Highness,” He murmurs, raising his gaze and forcing as much earnesty as he can into his words, “Please, Your Highness. I didn’t take the sword just to have you suffer anyway.”
Xie Lian gasps, breathing coming even faster. He grows dizzy with it, legs starting to shake. It can’t be! But how else would he know?
“Wu Ming?” Xie Lian asks, trying not to let hope take root in his chest.
“Your Highness.” He nods, blinking tears from his single exposed eye.
Xie Lian staggers on his feet, leaning heavily against the wall. His hands drop from his hair, trembling as he wraps his arms around himself. Tears run down his cheeks, dripping from his jaw and soaking into the rug beneath his feet. A sob catches in his throat and he swallows hard before he can speak.
“Don’t- don’t you dare joke about this, Hua Cheng. Don’t you fucking dare. I’ll never forgive you for mocking him,” His voice breaks, anger falling away and leaving only tears, “Please, please don’t be joking. Please be my Wu Ming. I- I can’t, it’s just- please, Wu Ming. Please don’t lie to me.”
“I am always honest with Your Highness.”
The way he speaks, the lilt of an accent not quite lost to time, the bow of his head... this is my Wu Ming. My wonderful, devoted, stubborn little ghost. My guilt, my grief, my biggest regret. Xie Lian sobs, knees buckling. His back slides down the wall, and he falls limply to sit on his feet. He desperately wants to throw himself at Hua Cheng, to hold him and cry and cry and apologize then cry some more. He doesn’t dare subject him to that.
“Your Highness, if you would like to cry on my shoulder...” Hua Cheng trails off, ashamed to have even offered something so unworthy.
Xie Lian pitches forward, face colliding forcefully with Hua Cheng’s collarbone, making both of them wince. They fall back, Xie Lian laying on top of Hua Cheng as he wails, missing the vomit stain on the rug by mere inches. Shuddering and shaking, he winds both arms around Hua Cheng, clutching at his shoulders. He’s making incomprehensible noises, sobbing around what should have been words. His breathing comes in rapid pants, chest heaving and heart hammering.
“Your Highness, please try to breathe slower. In and out. Here, match with me.”
Hua Cheng forces himself to start breathing. It’s easier to regulate because he doesn’t strictly have to do it, but even so, he finds it a little difficult to keep himself steady when his God is choking on grief. Especially on grief over him. Hua Cheng breathes slowly, hoping His Highness doesn’t notice the way it trembles on the exhale.
Xie Lian can’t calm himself down, all the mediation he’s learned over the centuries failing him. The way Hua Cheng tries to guide him just makes him cry harder, seeing how patient his Wu Ming is with him even now. He gasps for breath, feeling himself grow lightheaded again. Panicked and overwhelmed, he puts one hand in his own hair and yanks again. This time, Hua Cheng quickly wrestles his fingers loose, but not before he manages to tear out a chunk of hair, scalp starting to bleed. His other hand lifts to grab at his neck, feeling strangled by his own short breaths. He sinks his nails in around the shackle as though he could rip it off, clawing at himself until he draws blood. Hua Cheng pulls this hand away too, flipping them so Xie Lian is on his back, Hua Cheng pinning both his hands over his head. It would be a titillating position if Hua Cheng wasn’t so terrified, if his God wasn’t on the brink of fainting from panic beneath him.
Xie Lian sobs harder without any physical pain to distract him from the grief burning in his chest. Hua Cheng laces their fingers together, a comfort that he does not deserve. Still, Xie Lian squeezes back, tight enough to make both their bones creak. His nails dig into the backs of Hua Cheng’s hands and he tries to apologize, but can’t draw in enough air to speak properly.
“Your Highness,” Hua Cheng starts, feeling guilty before even bringing it up, for imposing what he thinks could benefit his God as if he has any right, “I know of a spell that could relax you. It causes mild sedation, and should be enough to get you through the worst of this. Is that something you’d like to try?”
Xie Lian nods frantically. His lungs ache, he feels like he’s about to throw up and pass out, and he’s certain he’s hurting Hua Cheng with the death grip on his hands that he can’t seem to gentle.
“Alright, Your Highness. I need you to let go of my hands so I can make the sigils.”
I’m trying! It’s not working, I’m so sorry, my Wu Ming, my fault, always my fault-
“-sorry, so sorry, forgive me, Wu Ming, forgive me even though I will never deserve it-”
“It’s alright, you’re alright, nothing to forgive,” Hua Cheng murmurs, prying Xie Lian’s hands off with great difficulty not just due to his grip strength, “The spell should work almost instantly, Your Highness. You’ll feel better very soon.”
A heavy warmth settles over him as Hua Cheng speaks. His breathing starts to ease under the weight of the spell. Sobs fade to soft whimpers as he goes slack. Everything feels a little fuzzy, panic receding, that level of energy feeling out of reach. He’s still sniffling a little, but no longer feels like he’s about to explode.
“Thank you, Hua Cheng. I’m so sorry about all of this. My Wu Ming, I can’t express how glad I am to see you, and how sorry I am for what I did.”
He pauses to scrub roughly over his face. Hua Cheng gently guides his hands down before he can give himself a black eye from how hard he rubs. Using his clean sleeve, he finally wipes away Xie Lian’s tears with all the tender care he deserves.
“What would you like me to call you? Hua Cheng? ...Wu Ming? How cruel I was, to call you that.” Fresh tears glisten at the corners of his eyes and Hua Cheng hastens to reassure him.
“I have never held it against you, Your Highness,” He whispers, hand still resting on Xie Lian’s cheek, “Would Your Highness do me the honor of calling me San Lang?”
“Of course, San Lang. Can we- can we get off the floor, please?”
Hua Cheng startles, just now noticing that he’s still sitting over Xie Lian’s hips. He scrambles up, taking Xie Lian’s hands and pulling him to his feet as well. Sedated by the spell, he leans into Hua Cheng’s side again and allows himself to be led down the hall. Hua Cheng keeps one arm securely around his waist, thumb stroking soothingly just below his ribs. Xie Lian clings right back, grabbing a fistful of fabric over his chest with one hand, the other clutching at his hip. He’s led to the kitchens, guided to sit in a chair. Hua Cheng tries to pull away, but Xie Lian once again finds he can’t force his grip to loosen. No matter, Hua Cheng simply sits beside him and sends a small flock of butterflies to retrieve a tray of steamed buns.
“Eat, Your Highness. You must be exhausted.”
“Ah, yes, it’s been a few days since I’ve eaten. Thank you, San Lang.”
Hua Cheng does not allow himself to flinch at that, instead pushing another bun into Xie Lian’s hands when he finishes, then another. He’s swaying a little where he sits after the third bun, too tired to keep his eyes open between the spell, a full stomach, multiple deaths, and an incredibly emotional reunion.
“Come, Your Highness. Let’s get you to bed.”
Xie Lian nods, stumbles when he tries to stand. He’s so, so tired. Relying almost wholly on Hua Cheng to keep him upright, he staggers down the hall. Poor San Lang must feel like he’s dragging a corpse. And indeed he does, pausing for a moment to lift a mostly asleep Xie Lian into his arms.
“Is this alright, Your Highness?”
Xie Lian nods against his chest, already starting to doze off. Hua Cheng now faces a dilemma. Should he take Xie Lian to the room made especially for him, which might be terribly overwhelming, or to his own room, which would be less perfect, less lavish, but also less overwhelming?
When he pauses in front of a maple wood door, he realizes that muscle memory brought him to his own room. Sighing, he pushes the door open with his foot and hopes his luck holds, that His Highness doesn’t dislike the place too badly.
“I’m going to set you down, now.” Hua Cheng murmurs, and Xie Lian nods again.
“’s a nice room,” He mumbles, “Shouldn’t wear my dirty clothes on the bed.”
“You don’t need to worry about that. But if you’d prefer, there are robes in the wardrobe. Take whatever you’d like.”
Hua Cheng did not think this through. Xie Lian stumbles over to the wardrobe, still hardly able to stand, feet apart like a drunk man fighting for stability. He paws through Hua Cheng’s robes with clumsy hands, fine motor skills diminished due to his exhaustion. Eventually he pulls out a soft set of sleep robes in a deep, rich red, with little butterflies in silver along the hem. He rubs the fabric against his cheek and sighs appreciatively. Still looking as if he could keel over, he unceremoniously strips out of his tattered white clothes and Hua Cheng slaps a hand over his remaining eye. But what if he falls? I can’t just- just leer at him like a creep, but I can’t not look!
“Your Highness,” He murmurs, hand still firmly in place, “Do you need any assistance? I do not wish to intrude on your privacy, but I cannot allow you to fall and hurt yourself again.”
“Oh, sorry! How rude of me just to- to just undress in front of you like that. I won’t fall; I can just hold onto the furniture.”
“Very well, Your Highness.”
Hua Cheng does not believe him, but isn’t willing to stare after being told he doesn’t need to be watching. After a few minutes of shuffling and something that sounded suspiciously like his God hitting the floor, Hua Cheng gets the go ahead to look. He uncovers his eye and is blessed with the sight of his God, his love, in his clothes. His red clothes, too big for Xie Lian but still screaming wedding. Perhaps the morning after a wedding, picking clothes up from the floor and accidentally donning the robes of his new spouse-
“Is this... your room?” Xie Lian asks, snapping Hua Cheng out of his blasphemous spiral.
“Yes, Your Highness.”
“Then where will you sleep?”
“Ghosts don’t need to sleep.”
“Hmm,” Hua Cheng can tell Xie Lian doesn’t wholly believe him, perhaps already knowing that while he might not need it to live, sleep does help him feel more settled, the way it does for gods, “We can share?”
Hua Cheng really did not think this through. Xie Lian clambers into the bed and pats the space next to him. Admittedly, it is large enough that Hua Cheng could lay beside him without touching. He hesitates, preparing himself to go sleep in his studio if he has to sleep somewhere. Then, Xie Lian pulls back the covers and pats the bed again, more insistently. He fixes Hua Cheng with a determined stare, only somewhat hindered by his glassy, bloodshot eyes.
“We share or I take the floor.” He declares.
“Absolutely not, you are my guest, you don’t sleep on the floor, Your Highness. I can take the floor.”
“Nuh-uh.”
He is so close to being asleep that Hua Cheng considers just waiting for him to pass out then curling up on the floor at the foot of the bed like a dog.
“Please?”
And Hua Cheng is so weak for him. He waves a hand to remove his jewelry and change into sleep robes, then slips under the blankets beside His Highness. There is plenty of room for them to rest comfortably without touching. Despite this, the moment that Xie Lian is asleep, he worms his way over to Hua Cheng, not settling back down until they are plastered together. He is absurdly sticky, an octopus cuddler with the unreasonable strength of several hundred years of martial training. Hua Cheng makes a token effort to move him back over to his own side of the bed, but gives up the moment Xie Lian whines in his sleep.
Hua Cheng does not realize he’d fallen asleep until he wakes up to nervous, sputtering apologies and a lingering warmth on his chest.
“-and I drooled on you, oh San Lang, I’m so sorry.”
“It’s alright, Your Highness, no harm done.” I am never washing these again.
“And last night, I’m sorry for freaking out and crying all over you. I missed you so, so much, and have been nothing but trouble for you. I can leave if you wish.”
“Do you want to leave?” His tone is neutral, even as he mentally pleads stay, stay, stay, don’t leave me, please don’t leave me, I don’t want to be alone again.
“Not particularly. I meant it when I said I like your city.”
“Then stay as long as you’d like. The manor and everything in it are yours to use.”
“I can’t just steal your bed-”
“Not stealing, Your Highness, freely given,” Hua Cheng interrupts gently, “But I have a guest room if you’d like it.”
“Why didn’t you bring me there last night?” He tilts his head to the side like a puppy, and Hua Cheng’s heart flutters in his chest, enough that it would probably be fatal, were he not already a ghost.
“I don’t know, I suppose I thought it might be more comforting for you here than the guest room.” I didn’t want to scare you when you saw that everything in there was tailor made for you, by me.
“And I suppose you were right about that. I slept very well. Although part of that was probably because I had glommed onto you like a leech. I do apologize for that.”
“Everything in the manor is yours to use, including me.”
Xie Lian blushes and suppresses a giggle. It makes him so, so happy to see that his dutiful and deferential little ghost has grown into such a cheeky thing. It suits him.
“What would you like to do today, Your Highness?”
“I’d like to finally get to know you, if- if that’s alright.”
“More than alright, Your Highness. I’d like that too.”
Xie Lian gazes fondly at him, gently taking his hand as they slide out of bed.
“I missed you terribly.” He whispers, still not letting go. He finds that he can’t, too afraid that his ghost will disappear again if he isn’t careful this time.
“And I, you, Your Highness.”
“Could we explore your city together? I want to see the wonderful place you made, and didn’t get much of a chance to sightsee on the way in.”
“Of course, Your Highness. I’d be honored to accompany you.”
He reluctantly releases Xie Lian’s hand to get dressed. Hua Cheng uses his quick change spell again, this time draping himself in wine red robes, high collared black inner layer peeking out around his neck, adorned with enough silver to clink when he moves, a thick black leather belt at his waist. It’s probably his most flattering outfit, and His Highness deserves to have a nice piece of arm candy walking around the city. If he, in all his insufficiency, is to be the accessory, the least he can do is dress well. Lipstick on a pig it may be, but he can’t exactly change forms to a prettier one. That would make it too glaringly obvious what he’s doing.
“Would you care for breakfast before we depart, Your Highness?”
“Ah, yes please,” Xie Lian keeps stealing glances at him, “What’s that spell you keep using?”
“Just a simple trick, nothing special,” He says, though it took him years to perfect and only just now became truly worth the time, “I can also do this.”
Hua Cheng leaps at the chance to change forms. He cycles through a few: tall, short, soft, sharp, all as handsome as he can possibly make himself. Xie Lian watches with rapt interest, but no real reaction to even the prettiest of his skins.
“So? Do you have a favorite? I take requests.” He winks, staying in a form with two eyes specifically for that purpose.
“I liked the one from yesterday the most.”
Hua Cheng wavers, allowing himself to fall back into his true form, still dressed to the nines. Xie Lian nods approvingly and Hua Cheng can barely keep himself from dropping to his knees in joy and reverence. He is so rudely jarred from the warmth being seared into his very soul by Yin Yu’s monotone in his array.
[Sir, there are three ghosts with numbers for names claiming you wanted to see them.]
[Ugh. Yes, I did. Send them to the receiving room, I’ll be there shortly.]
“Would you like to visit your friends first?” Hua Cheng grumbles, poorly concealing his annoyance at being interrupted.
“Yes, that would be lovely. They were so nice to me.”
They walk to the receiving room, making a brief detour for Xie Lian to grab a snack from the kitchen. Pastries this time, still warm and flaky. He nibbles politely on them as he makes his way down the hallway, despite the desperate gleam of hunger in his eyes. Hua Cheng wants to tell him he can wolf it down like an animal and if anyone has any nasty comments to make, he’ll eviscerate them. Easy, easy. Don’t scare him. No offering to disembowel anyone the morning after he had a panic attack so bad I had to sedate him.
When they finally reach the room, Xie Lian pauses his meal to wave at the three ghosts. He even offers them some of his food, which all three decline.
“Ya need it far more than us, dead guy,” One says, “So skinny, so skinny. Ah, I’m becoming my grandmother. Anyway, how are ya? Still cursed?”
“Ah, yes, for now. We’re looking into it.”
“That’s great, dude! And your little friend is still with you.” Four says, gesturing to the butterfly on Xie Lian’s head who has gone entirely rogue. Short of dispersing it, Hua Cheng has no way to get it to obey his commands to leave His Highness alone.
“Ah? Oh, yes, it seems to like me so I’ve just been letting it stay.”
Hua Cheng glares at it, and it glares back.
“Did... Dead guy, did you fuck Chengzhu?” Three mutters, jaw dropped and eyebrows at his hairline.
“What?!” Xie Lian chokes on his pastry, and a panicked Hua Cheng whacks him on the back.
“Just, you know, the clothes-” Three continues as soon as Xie Lian stops coughing.
“Oh heavens, I forgot to change! I only had the clothes I was wearing and I had literally just been dug out of a grave, I couldn’t wear those in San Lang’s nice bed-”
“So you did get in his bed! Damn dead guy, I knew you had moves but that’s fucking crazy.” Three says, looking proud.
Four mouths ‘San Lang?’ at One, who shrugs.
“Yes, I did.” Xie Lian says, not catching the meaning in time.
It’s now Hua Cheng’s turn to choke and sputter and cough, so caught off guard that he stumbles a couple steps. He wasn’t even eating anything or moving at all! He straightens back up just in time to see Three’s meaning dawn on Xie Lian.
“Or, no! No! Not like that! I threw up on his floor and had a panic attack and almost fell asleep at the dining table.” Xie Lian waves his hands frantically, trilling a nervous laugh.
“...and then you still fucking slept with him?” Three does not know when to shut up, “That’s what gets a calamity going, eh?”
Oh, fuck this guy. Hua Cheng is going to vaporize him.
“Calamity?” Xie Lian blinks at him, not unaware that he’s just saved Three’s afterlife.
“Yes, Your Highness,” Hua Cheng softens immediately, “It’s a title given to the strongest ghosts. There are technically four, but one is dead, and another is a vulgar lout only included to pad the numbers. Of the remaining two, I could wipe the floor with Black Water.”
Four mouths ‘Your Highness?’ at One, who shrugs.
“Good for you! I’m so glad you’ve made a name for yourself- or, ah, you know.”
One, Three, and Four share another confused look. Hua Cheng just laughs, delighted.
“So did you or did you not bone?” Three gets back to asking the real questions.
“We did not, Three. He was simply gracious enough to let me sleep in his very nice bed after the... taxing day I’d had.”
“Well, why the hell not! It’s obvious he fucking likes you; I’d take him up on the offer if I were you, dead guy.”
Hua Cheng flinches before he can help it. Am I really that obvious that any schmuck off the street can see it? Xie Lian turns to look at him and he flashes what he hopes is a smile.
“That... actually would explain a few things,” Xie Lian mumbles, “You need higher standards, San Lang.”
“I- that’s- Your Highness?” Hua Cheng stutters.
“You shouldn’t let people treat you like that, especially not your beloved,” This is advice Xie Lian has given many, many times in his travels, “You shouldn’t forgive me, but I’ll try to make up for it anyway. I promise I’ll be nicer this time.”
“That isn’t- I was never- Your Highness, I never held that against you. You were dreadfully hurt and haunted and grieving. I didn’t expect you to be nice to anyone, let alone some clingy little wrath.”
“Hmm,” Xie Lian frowns at him, “I think you need to be nicer to yourself, San Lang. We can work on that.”
“We- we can?” Hua Cheng has never felt so off kilter in his life or death.
“Well, yes,” He pauses, “Unless, I’ve misunderstood something? Do you not- am I not your beloved?”
And he looks so terribly nervous about it that Hua Cheng can’t just brush it off and hope it never comes up again. Or at least hope it never comes up again like this, in front of an audience of the three ghosts who dug his God out of a grave, and Yin Yu, who is deeply grateful for the mask covering his shock.
“You are, Your Highness, and always have been.”
“Good! My memories from then are... hazy, but I remember being so horribly jealous. ‘Why can’t anyone love me like that,’ ah, what a little fool I was.” He mocks his younger self, tone light but edged with shame.
I need to sit down. Hua Cheng thinks. Aloud, he says, “Not a fool, Your Highness.”
“Should we leave?” One asks.
“Yes.” Hua Cheng growls at the same time Xie Lian says, “Ah, no, no need.”
“...No.” Hua Cheng reluctantly agrees.
“So you haven’t boned yet.” Three says, apparently eager to die twice.
“Ah, well, my- my cultivation path prohibits such things and I think it... did something to me. I fear I can’t get it up, even if I wanted to.” Xie Lian mumbles towards the end, suddenly finding the floor very interesting.
“They make talismans and potions for that, dead guy.” Four offers in a genuine attempt to be helpful.
“I... see,” Xie Lian chirps, flustered beyond belief, “Alright! Nice talking to you see you later bye!”
Blushing crimson, he hastily heads towards the door, dragging a very bewildered calamity with him.
“Go get him, dead guy! Here, I’ve got a business card for the best sex apothecary in the city on me somewhere-” Three rifles around in his pockets, “Here it is! They’ve got fucking everything there, and I do mean fucking everything.”
Three waggles his eyebrows and Xie Lian somewhat hesitantly takes the proffered card. He gets even redder at whatever’s written on it, shoving it into Hua Cheng’s hand and all but plowing him through the door. Hua Cheng turns his head just long enough to huff and tell the three that they can ask for anything they desire and he’ll provide it.
“There is nothing with more value to me than what you have provided,” Then, although it pains him a little, “Thank you.”
After they’re gone, Three pipes up again.
“So, what are the odds that dead guy was hauling Chengzhu off to fuck right now?”
“What the hell is the matter with ya, Three!”
“Yeah, Chengzhu’s a gentleman! They’ll get married first.”
By the time Xie Lian and Hua Cheng get around to exploring the city that afternoon, it’s decked in red and gold and they’re left practically fighting off wedding gifts with a stick. Hua Cheng is too caught up in the glowing smile on Xie Lian’s face to bother ending the rumors. Xie Lian loves the city just a little more, and loves Hua Cheng even more than that.