Work Text:
Wulain Week 2026- Day 6
Upset, Numb, Ashes, Whump
Xie Lian did not trust this ghost. If everyone betrayed him, his people, his friends, his parents… why not this ghost? There just be something he wanted, some ulterior motive he kept in his dead heart.
If only there was a way to secure a ghost’s loyalty… maybe there was.
Guoshi had said in a distantly remembered lesson that ghosts were tied to their ashes. A person who held a ghost’s ashes would control them, or destroy them on a whim.
As they waited for the rain to pass over their temporary shelter, Xie Lian walked quietly over to where Wu Ming was sat against the wall, saber propped up in his arms.
“Ghost?” He called.
When ‘Wu Ming’ didn’t answer, Xie Lian wondered if the ghost had dozed off.
Xie Lian knelt, considering the ghost from behind his mask.
He’d be quick. He was already a grave disturber, and that’s one step away from grave robber.
With light fingers, Xie Lian began to riffle through Wu Ming’s robes, checking his sleeves and his collar first.
“Your highness… did you need something?”
At the gentle voice, Xie Lian slipped his fingers out of the neck of Wu Ming’s robes, trying not to seem guilty of trying to molest the ghost in his sleep.
“I was looking for something.” He said, getting to his feet.
“Did your highness lose something? I promise, I didn’t take it!” Wu Ming shot to his feet as well, sounding earnest and panicked.
“Do you have your ashes on you, or hidden somewhere safe?” He asked.
“Your highness wants my ashes?” Wu Ming sounded surprised and hesitant, though Xie Lian didn’t hear any sour notes of displeasure.
“I understand that its a—”
“Here.” Wu Ming held out his fist, turning it palm-up and unfurling his fingers to reveal a breathtaking, crystalline ring.
Ten thousand thoughts flooded his mind in a rapid stream.
These were his ashes? They were so pretty. Why is he just handing them over? Is this some sort of trap? Wu Ming was unnaturally calm about this. Could Xie Lian just take them? Would Wu Ming attack him if he did? Was this a trap? Was this a trap? Was this a mistake?
Xie Lian held out his hand and felt the ring drop into the center of his palm with no pain and no fanfare.
Xie Lian dumbly looked from the glittering ring to Wu Ming’s masked face.
Before he could say anything, a stream of words came out of Wu Ming, “Keep them safe, or crush them, do what you want with them, it is in your hands now. I am in your hands.”
The ghost seemed to be vibrating. From nervousness… anger…what?
And him… what was Xie Lian feeling? Having control over another’s life (or continued existence) like this should have made him feel… something! Like powerful, or angry, or accomplished.
In reality, he just felt… numb.
“...I see.” He said, realizing as he looked down at himself that he had no safe place to keep such a treasured object.
He couldn’t trust keeping it at his breast or in his sleeves untethered. He carried nothing on him on his quest for vengeance save a sword and a mask, and the clothes on his back.
Xie Lian bent over and tore at the hem of his slightly too-long robe.
The ghost startled and then watched him curiously before looking away again.
Xie Lian stood up, holding the thin, ragged strip of white cloth. He twisted it and fed the ring onto the strand before looping it around his neck and knotting it securely.
Wu Ming was fidgeting with his hands, but was otherwise inscrutable behind his smiling mask.
Xie Lian scoffed. The ghost just gave him his ashes, if he didn’t like what Xie Lian did with them, then he should keep it to himself.
“Come on, the rain has let up.” Xie Lian said, tucking the ring into his robes.
“At once, your highness!” The ghost said, retrieving his saber and following Xie Lian out into the tentative sunshine.