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Wulian Week 2026- Day 1
Happy, Touch, Rain, First Kiss
Xie Lian woke up to the smell of green and the roll of thunder.
But he was dry, and he was whole, lying on a simple straw mat in the repaired hunter’s cottage he and his loyal soldier had found through rumor and won through a game of dice. (All by Wu Ming’s luck, of course. With his sealed at his ankle, Xie Lian had only hovered.)
His soldier, his ghost, was back to his normal self these days.
After Xie Lian had gathered handfuls of his flickering ghost fire at Lang-er Bay and nursed him back to a corporeal state, Wu Ming had stuck around.
Wu Ming was there, sitting in the cottage’s open doorway, his face unguarded as he focused on what he was whittling.
Xie Lian had wanted to watch him quietly, not disturb him with excessive movement, but his attempt to move subtly were foiled as he was quickly, and ruthlessly, found out.
“Good morning, your highness.” There was amusement in his ghost’s voice. His ghost. Ah.
Winter had thawed into spring, and yet Xie Lian’s possessiveness over Wu Ming only grew.
Xie Lian sat up, combing fingers through his hair and laughing, breathy and nervous.
Wu Ming approached him, mouth twisted in a small smile he seemed to be struggling to swallow. His ghost knelt before him and offered him the comb he had carved for Xie Lian in the early days of his corporeal recovery.
“Oh! Thank you, Wu Ming.” Xie Lian offered his own shy smile in return as he ran the comb through his hair.
Wu Ming lingered at his side long enough to offer a hair ribbon or a hair stick. Xie Lian had such luxury of choice these days. Wu Ming had given him that. He had always given him that…
Xie Lian could choose to busk in town, or wash in the mountain stream. He could even take all day to nap in the flower field, or to swing beneath the branches of the grand tree that stood outside their home, in the swing Wu Ming had made for him.
It was always for him, wasn’t it?
He could even spar with the ghost, because he was strong enough to indulge him now. Indulging him, spoiling him rotten, like a little princeling.
“What would your highness like to do for the day?” Wu Ming asked smoothly, deftly sweeping Xie Lian’s hair up into a half-bun with the hand-carved hairstick when Xie Lian merely pointed to it.
As he had said: Wu Ming was spoiling him.
He fought to contain his blush with meditative breathing. Wu Ming’s hands on him were feather-light and didn’t linger, as much as Xie Lian was starting to wish that they would. Wu Ming always pulled away and put distance between them again. It caused an ache in Xie Lian’s chest, and a desire to scream madly, ‘Please! Come back! Don’t ever leave me alone again!’.
“How about a friendly spar?” he said instead, standing and pulling on a set of fresh outer robes and his boots.
Wu Ming looked briefly out of their open door into the mountain thicket beyond.
“It’s raining, your highness.” He said, turning back to face him once he was dressed.
It hurt Xie Lian to smile, in a good way, “It’s good practice for when your terrain is treacherous, Wu Ming. Didn’t you know that?”
Wu Ming had the grace to meekly shake his black-bandaged head and smile back, “Mn-mn, This one is learning so much from your highness. This one is grateful for his instruction.”
Throughly flustered, Xie Lian stormed past his ghost and out into the storm itself, which was no more than a delicate sprinkling of rain and a lot of blustering thunder and winds that stirred the newly green branches to life.
Xie Lian walked over to the now slick patch of grass they normally had their tussles on, and turned to face Wu Ming.
For his part, Wu Ming looked eager as he followed Xie Lian to their fighting place, his one, visible eye shone darkly as he tracked Xie Lian’s every movement.
Wu Ming was used to Xie Lian’s dirty tricks by now, and had played a few of his own, which earned him praise from his teacher.
Seeing Wu Ming step, sure-footed, onto the wettest patch of grass, Xie Lian crouched and swept his leg into Wu Ming’s ankles. Not enough to shatter any bones. Did ghosts have bones? He wondered as he swiftly got to his feet and moved backwards.
Wu Ming had seen though him this time, and was no longer indulging him by pretending to fall for it. Instead, the ghost had nimbly jumped as Xie Lian’s leg had come swinging, and he had landed unharmed. Then, Wu Ming had rushed forward, pinning Xie Lian against the thick trunk of their tree.
Xie Lian took note of the strong arms caging him in the breath before he knocked Wu Ming off balance with a well-placed kick to his knee.
“When Wu Ming focuses on making his arms unbreakable, he forgets his legs.” Xie Lian said, thrumming already with the joy of the fight.
Wu Ming righted himself, and again, attempted to pin Xie Lian down like a flighty, winged insect.
Xie Lian had time enough to dodge every raindrop as he nimbly dodged every palm-strike, every kick, every grasping hand, giving critique freely as a teacher might.
Wu Ming’s sharp features were furrowed in concentration, but his eye was bright with the same liveliness that danced in Xie Lian’s.
They danced around the tree and nearly slipped in the grass, Wu Ming pursuing Xie Lian in a game of chase they both knew Wu Ming had no hope of winning, shackled though Xie Lian was.
Wu Ming had fed him too well on fat Spring hares and other small game for Xie Lian to remain woozy with hunger. He had treated and bandaged his wounds with such care, Xie Lain could never stagger from an old wound.
Xie Lian did not often feel out of breath, but he felt it now, as his attention became stuck on Wu Ming’s pale face, which was suddenly right in front of his without warning.
Xie Lian staggered backwards, and was caught by the wooden seat of the swing.
Wu Ming pressed the advantage, climbing overtop Xie Lian’s lap, placing his hands on the ropes, and his knees on either side of Xie Lian’s thighs.
“Caught you!”
Wu Ming’s lopsided grin was infectious.
Xie Lian found himself smiling back, getting lost in that gleam of sharp teeth and that dark eye beholding him like he were the only thing worth anything. He felt wanted, seen, cared for. Xie Lian briefly and fiercely wished Wu Ming were still a palm-full of ghost fire so he could swallow him down, whole, and keep him burning in his stomach forever.
“Wu Ming.” Xie Lian’s voice came out breathy and edged with longing as he gazed up at his ghost.
Xie Lian licked his too-dry lips and reached up, hooking a wrist over the back of Wu Ming’s neck.
Wu Ming bent willingly as Xie Lian guided him down until their faces were a breath’s width apart.
“Your highness?” Wu Ming’s voice trembled with some soft emotion, awe, perhaps, just before their lips brushed.
Wu Ming’s lips were cool against his, but they warmed quickly as they both pressed in.
Xie Lian felt a hand come up to cup his cheek, holding him delicately there, but giving Xie Lian the option of breaking away easily, but that was the last thing Xie Lian wanted to do.
Regretfully, he needed to breathe.
Wu Ming whined quietly as he pulled back, a sinfully soft, dove-like sound, and a shimmering strand of saliva was left hanging between their lips.
The sound and sight sending heat rushing wildly to every part of his body. He had to remember his vows, scrape up the ethics sutra, anything! But the heavy-lidded, open-mouthed look of longing and desperation on Wu Ming’s face swiftly dismantled any attempt to gather himself.
With him looking at Xie Lian like that, it was easy to remember that Wu Ming had a beloved in this world… one he lingered for.
He should linger for me! Xie Lian thought viciously as he drew Wu Ming down again.
Wu Ming moaned sweetly against Xie Lian’s mouth, the sound sending another possessive thrill through Xie Lian.
His soldier. His ghost. His believer. His. His, his, his!
They balanced together on the swing as it rocked them gently, raindrops falling from the leaves above and onto their heads.
Wu Ming’s lips were finally warm when they parted a second time. Xie Lian chased them, causing their perch to rock enough to dislodge Wu Ming, who slipped off the swing and onto his feet.
Xie Lian opened his eyes and grabbed fistfuls of Wu Ming’s shadowy robes, declaring, “You are mine.”
Brooking no argument.
Wu Ming ducked his head and smiled shyly, kneeling in the grass before Xie Lian. With a hand to his heart, he swore, “Your highness, I am forever your most devoted believer. I was already yours.”
The way he said it, Xie Lian felt more than just the ghost’s devotion, he also felt the love and the joy that tangled with his faith. He knew it to be true, and he would not take him for granted ever again.