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When Xie Lian woke up, he was laying on an alter.
He could smell the incense, feel the burnished wood underneath his palms, see candlelight reflected off of soft marble of a divine statue.
Was he back--?! No. No, he wasn’t in that place. It was dark there, and it stunk of mildew and abandonment. And blood, so much blood.
He groaned and pulled himself to sit, patting himself down for injuries, and checking his sleeves for his stowed possessions.
Xie Lian slid from the alter and landed on his feet.
There were several noticeable differences. His body felt strong, spiritual power thrumming through his meridians. More noticeably, his stomach wasn’t clawing at him to feed it.
Xie Lian ran the hem of his white sleeve between his fingers and found that though these robes looked simple, they were made well, and of fine silk that shimmered white in the lantern light.
Who had managed to capture him and taken him to a temple, dressing him in fine garb and feeding him well? And whose temple was this?
Xie Lian turned to look up at the divine statue and was met… with his own face.
The divine statue was carved of the finest white marble, and was a hight grander than most divine statues, yet it was unlike every statue ever carved for the Flower-Crowned Martial God. This divine statue wore simple robes and a bamboo hat strung about his neck, and a gentle smile.
It was also made more accurately to Xie Lian’s image than the divine statues made by artificers in Xianle. The details of his face were so exquisitely crafted that Xie Lian could only assume the sculptor knew him personally.
At the foot of all the stairs before him, the temple doors swung open smoothly and without a single creak.
A figure in black stepped tentatively inside, head bowed, looking at his hand, where a red string floated and curled through the air.
Then he looked up and noticed Xie Lian watching him from beside the alter.
The young man’s face lit up, “Your highness!” He cried, taking the stairs two at a time to meet him on the landing.
Once there, he knelt, bowing his head reverently.
“Your highness, I’ve been searching for you everywhere! Luckily, this string led me to you.”
Xie Lian puzzled for a moment over who this stranger was, and if it could be a trap, but he thought he recognized the soft baritone of his voice, knew what it looked like for this man to be kneeling at his feet.
“Wu Ming?” It came out as a near sob.
His poor, dispersed ghost looked up at him with wide, mismatched eyes.
“What happened to you!? How are you not-- how did I not--?!” He choked, half-believing this was a dream.
“Your highness? Please breathe.” Wu Ming said, standing up and placing a hand to his heart, “I didn’t mean to be separated from you.”
“Separated? You dispersed!” Xie Lian insisted, trying, and failing, to breathe.
A tiny furrow appeared between Wu Ming’s eyebrows, “I don’t remember being dispersed.”
His eyes regarded Xie Lian with such worry and gentleness, Xie Lian felt breathless, there were so many things he had imagined saying to this ghost. In the years since his dispersal, Xie Lian had wandered, and tried to be good. There was so much he wanted to say, too much! In the end, what came out was, a murmured, “You were so young…”
He tried not to fall apart as he reached out to cup Wu Ming’s cold cheek.
When standing and not stooping, Wu Ming was taller than him by a good two cun. How had he not noticed that when they traveled together?
Wu Ming didn’t seem to know what to say, chewing on his lip and looking off to the side, uttering a small, “Mn.”
At last, Xie Lian stepped back, “Wu Ming, do you know where we are?”
Wu Ming set a hand to where Xie Lian’s had just been, and said, “I woke up in… a gambling den, your highness, and I followed the string through the city of ghosts, to this temple.”
“A city of ghosts…” Xie Lian repeated, beginning to pace, “I’ve never heard of such a thing! How can Heaven allow it?”
“Perhaps Heaven can’t forbid it?” Wu Ming suggested.
Xie Lian considered his words, “Perhaps there is something about the land, or perhaps there are some powerful ghosts keeping Heaven at bay…” He turned and looked doubtfully at his divine statue, “It doesn’t explain why this temple is here.”
He touched his throat and could not feel the shackle that has choked him for the last few years. It was truly gone. So much had happened while he slept, or a considerable amount of time had passed…
“Would Wu Ming show me the city?” He requested, and his ghost perked up, looking like an eager puppy as he cocked his head and smiled.
“Of course, your highness!” he said, the joy brightening his voice in a way that made Xie Lian’s heart clench.
He followed his follower down the temple stairs, out the doors, and down more steps again.
It was only until they were outside that Xie Lian realized just how big this temple was.
It stood, golden, glowing with thousands of lit lanterns, and resplendent in the early evening. There were two crystalline pools lining the entrance walkway where lotuses with pink and white petals floated prettily among lantern boats.
Xie Lian couldn’t read the demonic scrawl on the temple sign, but that was neither here nor there. He was taken aback, but tentatively flattered that ghosts, of all people, would choose to build him such a grand, but tasteful, temple.
Ghost city was a marvel, like the temple was, but it was louder, more eclectic, and the color red was everywhere. It blazed in his eyes and screamed of ‘fortune!’ and ‘happiness!’, just like the vendors hawking their wares screaming, ‘fried pork!’, ‘fans, masks, bits and baubles!’, and ‘lovely ladies for the night!’.
Walking just behind Wu Ming, Xie Lian looked to his own hand, where a red affinity knot looped around his third finger. The string drifted through the air and ended on Wu Ming’s own finger.
Could it be that they were soulmates? But what about Wu Ming’s beloved? Where was she?
They were walking down a street lined on both sides with food vendors when someone called out to Xie Lian.
“Grand-Uncle! For you!” A pig-snouted stand-owner squealed, his tusks protruding from his lips as he grinned at Xie Lian. The strange ghost handed him a steaming paper bag with food in it, something small and fried well. It smelled greasy and good. Xie Lian stomach grumbled.
“Human safe!” He said enthusiastically.
“But, sir! I don’t have any money!” He protested. That was a lie, he had found a purse in his sleeves earlier, but he didn’t want to fall for the scam, if this was one.
“Not a problem, not a problem!” The ghost scratched his flopping pig’s ears and grinned some more, “You and Chengzhu do so much for us, and you were looking a little thin today, haha!”
Chengzhu… Xie Lian was known to work with the lord of this city. Grand-Uncle, huh?
“Thank you!” He said with a small bow, returning to Wu Ming, who was only a step behind him.
“Want one?” Xie Lian asked, using the toothpick embedded in a fried thing to lift it to Wu Ming’s lips.
Wu Ming opened his mouth obediently, chewed, and swallowed before speaking.
“They could have been poisoned.”
“Are they?” Xie Lian asked, spearing another.
“Doesn’t taste like it.” Wu Ming admitted.
“Its not like I would die anyways…” Xie Lian joked, taking a succulent bite of fried liver.
Wu Ming stopped dead, a pitiful expression on his face. The points of his ears were even drooping!
“Your highness! Please don’t joke about that!” He cried so sadly Xie Lian felt bad.
Xie Lian sighed and patted Wu Ming’s arm consolingly, “I won’t say it again, so eat and be happy!”
I don’t know if I have immortality at this point… so a I very well could die if I ate the wrong thing! Xie Lian thought. I suppose we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it!
Wu Ming perked up and accepted another tender morsel from Xie Lian’s hand.
They shared the fried bird hearts and livers as they walked, eating from the same toothpick.
Merchants and vendors called out to them as they passed. Xie Lian heard ‘Grand-Uncle’ thrown in his direction a few more times to think it not a coincidence.
Just how old am I at this point? He thought sheepishly.
He and Wu Ming casually perused the offerings of the street vendors, and were met on several occasions with merchants foisting their wares onto a confused Xie Lian.
One merchant says "I wouldn't dream of making chengzhu's husband pay!"
When Wu Ming bristledbeside Xie Lian, the merchant screamed in fright and offered them more.
And another down the street said, "grand uncle helped me mend my broken doohickey! Not a lot of people out there who can do that, so I won't hear of it!" while giving them small collections of broken trinkets. Xie Lian dutifully thanked the ghost and stored them in his sleeves. His sleeves were getting heavy...
On their jaunt through Ghost City Xie Lian had learned so far that he was a god, he collected and repaired scraps often for the citizens of Ghost City, and that he was married! To the chengzhu. Who apparently didn't mind having a scrap god for a spouse! Wins all around! In theory.
He wondered, briefly, about his cultivation path. Surely his path of abstinence would be in tatters if he was to have had a wedding night.
They walked past the gambling den Wu Ming had woken up in. More of that infernal scrawl was inked on the sign and up the pillars of the establishment.
The official city calligrapher must be a lunatic! Xie Lian thought.
“Do you want to go inside?” Xie Lian asked, nodding to the den.
Wu Ming shook his head quite fiercely and said, “Not at all!”
Xie Lian smiled and said, “My memory is… lacking right now, and I suspect yours is too.”
Wu Ming looked down at the street and nodded, “Yes, your highness. I don’t know how I came to be in there.” He gestured towards the den, where a gambler was being tossed out into the street by two massive ghosts in black and red uniforms.
Which looked oddly similar to the clothes Wu Ming was wearing.
“You might work there.” Xie Lian suggested, causing Wu Ming to cringe, his hooked nose wrinkling in distaste.
“Whatever is the case,” Xie Lian continued, “I should find the chengzhu, he might be able to help.”
Wu Ming looked paler than usual, and like he was holding in his opinion, as well as his dinner, behind pursed lips.
Xie Lian set his hands on his hips and said gently, “Wu Ming… if you have something to say, say it.”
“No use wasting your time on that trash!” He spit out after a few more seconds.
“And why is that?” Xie Lian prompted, “How is he trash?”
Wu Ming waved his arms at his sides, floundering as he fished for words.
“He left you, alone, and without much of your memory!”
Xie Lian sucked on the inside of his cheek, then retorted, “What if I wandered off, what if he didn’t know? Wouldn’t it be my fault, then?”
Wu Ming silently gnashed his teeth for a moment before countering with a curt, “No.”
Xie Lian raised an eyebrow.
“Because he’s your…” Wu Ming looked like he was struggling internally with heart demons, “...husband, he should take care of you, and always know where to find you! And he’s not here, so he’s trash.”
“...Always know where to find me… huh?” Xie Lian muttered to himself, his eyes following the red thread that drifted in the air between them.
“Come on!” Xie Lian said, picking a direction and walking in it.
“Where are we going?” Wu Ming chased after him.
“To find a place to sleep, and a place to put all this scrap!” Xie Lian laughed, lifting his heavy sleeves.
Wu Ming’s posture straightened, “I will find you a place to rest! You can count on me, your highness!”
Xie Lian smiled to himself and said, “No need. I have a place in mind.”
“The temple?” Wu Ming asked, glancing back in the direction they came from.
Xie Lian stopped a fleet of street kids as they hurtled past and asked them where the city lord lived.
“Oh, hi, Grand-Uncle! Hi Grand-Uncle’s friend? Don’t you know where you live?”
“Pretend I forgot.” Xie Lian said with a wink and a flash of candy and coin.
The kids gathered around, clamoring to tell Xie Lian all about Paradise Manor. How big and grand it was with its great wooden beams all painted red. Like the gambling den, but much nicer!
Xie Lian passed out the boiled sweets wrapped in paper and gave some of the older kids a few coins each, much to everyone’s delight.
Directions acquired, and sleeves marginally lighter, Xie Lian cheerfully hooked his arm in Wu Ming’s as they walked, bound for Paradise Manor.
Wu Ming didn’t look sour anymore, he just looked wistful, staring off into the night.
Gradually, the misty, cramped alleys around them gave way to a misty mire, and in the distance, another red building loomed. Paradise Manor.
There was a sign here as well, mounted above the door. The calligrapher was the same lunatic who had been commissioned to mark the temple and the gambling hall. Those wild strokes made Xie Lian smile, but he didn’t know why.
They took the bridge that led to the grand entrance, and when they arrived, the doors opened for them. Xie Lian wondered if it was an array, or if there were unseen servants.
The architecture and the interior were all in the Xianle style. Such a familiar sight caused an ache in Xie Lian’s chest.
His husband was either also from Xianle, or loved him enough to have this built for him. Perhaps it was both.
The walls of every hall were decorated with scores of ink paintings. Some were still life or landscapes, many were of Xie Lian. It was Xie Lian ten thousand ways! Xie Lian as the prince who pleased the gods, Xie Lian dancing with swords, Xie Lian meditating, Xie Lian fixing a child’s toy, Xie Lian cooking dinner.
Xie Lian was stunned nearly speechless, but he did manage to ask, “Wu Ming, can you paint?”
Wu Ming’s arm in his tensed, then he said, “Yes, but not like this.”
Xie Lian pulled away from a painting of him walking arm in arm with in a figure in red. His husband?
“What do you mean?” He asks.
Wu Ming looks shyly away from him, (and the painting, Xie Lian notices) and specifies, “I mostly paint flowers. I’m not this good at painting you- I mean, people yet.”
Xie Lian chuckles, “I’m not sure many people are this good. But you should keep at it, I’m sure Wu Ming is a real talent.”
Wu Ming demurred softly, but Xie Lian caught his smile as they continued on.
They peeked curiously into every door they found. They happened upon a receiving room, a dining room, some kitchens, two libraries, a number of art studios, and one bedroom.
They had not run into a single servant, which was strange, but that just meant there was no one there to tell them no.
“Should we be in here?” Wu Ming asked tentatively at the doorway to the bedroom.
Xie Lian looked up from where he was riffling through the vanity, “I recognize those earrings.”
He pointed to a pair of coral beaded earrings that lay cushioned in silk near the mirror.
Wu Ming came over to look, and stifled a gasp when he saw them. Odd.
“If this wasn’t my bedroom, those wouldn’t be there.” Xie Lian said confidently, though, to be honest, he hadn’t seen hide nor hair of that pair since even before the fall of Xianle. He wondered how they came to be on this vanity.
Xie Lian ransacked the room, politely putting everything back afterwards, while Wu Ming looked on in fascinated horror.
After piling a portion of what the closet and dressers had to offer onto the bed, a sea of white and a riot of red, Xie Lian grinned and picked up one of the red robes.
“My husband must wear a lot of red!”
He made his way over to where Wu Ming stood stiffly and pressed the robe to his chest, holding it up so that it created a facsimile of his husband.
“Did Wu Ming wear a lot of red in life?” He asks casually, noting how Wu Ming tenses and swallows as Xie Lian’s hands smooth the fabric against his shoulders.
“A scrap here and there, but nothing like this…” He said, eyes darting over to the spectacle on the bed, “Does he think he’s getting married every day? Who needs so much red?”
Xie Lian smiled to himself and folded the robe back up, “Who indeed?”
Wu Ming helped him put everything away, but before they closed the doors, at the back of the closet they found an ugly, roughly-sewn belt.
Xie Lian traced his fingertips over the roughly rendered faces. There was him, with his straw hat and gentle smile, which looked a little crooked… And there was his husband. Was there something the matter with his right eye…? Oh, was that supposed to be an eyepatch?
Xie Lian sat on the bed, placing the belt beside him. He looked to where Wu Ming was hovering near the vanity.
“Come here.” Xie Lian commanded, trying to ignore his fluttering heart. This was all so new! So sudden.
Wu Ming came to him and when Xie Lian didn’t say anything more, knelt by the bed.
“Yes, your highness?” His voice was sweet, his gaze, expectant, unflinching. His right eye was so pretty and unusual and red.
Xie Lian bit his lip and felt a swell of sorrow for what had become of that beautiful eye, and this beautiful man.
“Sit on the bed with me.” Xie Lian patted the space next to him.
Wu Ming’s eyes dropped to his hand and lingered there, even as he said, “I dare not.”
“Why not?” Xie Lian asked.
“This is your bed.” Wu Ming said, his voice grew bitter as he continued, “And his.”
“Wu Ming.” Xie Lian took Wu Ming’s chin in his hand and lifted his face so that their eyes met once more, “How did you know that following the red string would lead you to me?”
“W-what?” Wu Ming looked startled and suddenly nauseous as he swallowed thickly.
“Answer me.” Xie Lian commanded, with all the gravitas of a crown prince.
“I didn’t know it would, but I hoped it might.” Wu Ming offered weakly.
“You misunderstand. I’m asking, why would you assume I was the one at the end of that string, and not your beloved?”
Wu Ming’s mouth flapped open and then closed, his mismatched eyes looked anywhere but him.
“Wu Ming.” He said, placing his hand on Wu Ming’s shoulder, “I know I have not been fair with you in the past…”
Wu Ming made a strangled sound of protest, but Xie Lian hushed him taking him up by the elbows and drawing him to his feet.
“Sit with me.” He said, taking Wu Ming’s trembling hand and pulling the hesitant ghost onto the bed beside him.
Wu Ming sat gingerly, as if it were a crime for him to sit on such luxurious bedcovers, or next to Xie Lian as an equal.
“I have been cruel to you.” Xie Lian said soberly.
Wu Ming’s head snapped in his direction, “No!”
Xie Lian raised his chin and met Wu Ming’s gaze, “I was.”
Wu Ming shook his head, “Your highness was hurting.”
“Feeling hurt doesn’t excuse cruelty.” Xie Lian said simply, “I would like to apologize, would you let me?”
Wu Ming nodded sullenly.
“Good boy.” Xie Lian praised, eliciting a choked sound and a sudden gray-ish blush from Wu Ming that shaded in the tips of his ears.
Xie Lian squeezed Wu Ming’s hand and said, “I hurt you. For that, I am truly sorry.”
Wu Ming sighed and gave Xie Lian’s hand a tentative squeeze, “There is nothing to forgive, but you are forgiven all the same, your highness.”
Xie Lian smiled and bumped their shoulders together playfully, “I’d like to know how I managed to earn such loyalty from Wu Ming.”
Wu Ming exhaled shakily and gave him a fragile smile, “Another time, your highness?”
Xie Lian hummed his assent, but added, a bit ruthlessly, “I’d also like to know how I became your beloved.”
Shock and panic were plain on Wu Ming’s pale face. Either Xie Lian was very wrong, or all too right with his guess.
“Am I wrong?” Xie Lian asked, hoping very much that he wasn’t. He wanted that to be the reason Wu Ming swore his sword to him, carried him through hardships, and stood by his side. He wanted this kind future with loyal, fierce, handsome Wu Ming by his side.
“… It’s shameful.” Wu Ming said at length.
“What is? That you could love someone like me?” Xie Lian says bitterly, thinking of his plummet from grace, every atrocity he almost committed, every dirty, shameful thing he’d ever done.
Wu Ming must have seen something in his face, or read something in his tone, because he quickly amended his statement.
“No! Your highness, it isn’t you, it’s me! I… I dare too much!” He cried, now squeezing Xie Lian’s hand with both of his cold ones.
“Isn’t that up to me to decide?” Xie Lian asked, setting his free hand to Wu Ming’s cheek and turning his face towards him.
Wu Ming looked shyly at him through his dark lashes as he softly agreed, “Yes, your highness.”
Xie Lian’s thumb skimmed over Wu Ming’s bottom lip and he heard the ghost’s breath hitch.
Suddenly, he was overcome by the need to be tasted, to be savored, to be loved by this ghost. Was it because he had concluded that Wu Ming was his mysterious husband? Was it because Wu Ming handled him like something precious? When was the last time someone really saw him like this?
“Wu Ming, I want…” Xie Lian trailed off, getting lost in the details of Wu Ming’s youthful face.
It was Wu Ming who finally leaned in, though he hovered, hesitating before Xie Lian’s lips for a moment before closing the distance.
The kiss was chaste, and tasted of the treats they had shared on their walk through Ghost City. It was like he was getting to experience all of the day’s simple joy all over again.
Xie Lian breathed out through his nose as he relaxed into the kiss. He found he liked how they fit together, their noses nestled against one another’s, his lips slowly warming up Wu Ming’s to something alive.
All he knew was that it felt right.
Xie Lian was being pushed back onto the bed by strong hands, and like that, the kiss turned unexpectedly filthy as a tongue lapped at his lower lip.
“Wu Ming-” Xie Lian gasped, pushing the ghost back just enough so he could breathe, but-- it wasn’t Wu Ming hovering above him.
It was a handsome, one-eyed man with wild hair and a devilish grin, wearing enough red to justify a wedding.
“Gege always takes longer to come back.” The chengzhu, his husband, said, “Don’t worry, your highness.”
Xie Lian could see Wu Ming’s features in his face, they were still there, just sharper, more mature.
Xie Lian lay on the bed, a bit stunned, but he had enough presence of mind to grab the cool hand stroking his cheek.
Before he could lose his nerve, me asked shyly,“H...husband, will you tell me your name?”
His husband’s eye widened, then he smiled warmly and said in a low voice, “Hua Cheng.”
“Hua Cheng…” Xie Lian echoed thoughtfully, “I’m glad you found a name. Did you pick it, or did I?”
Hua Cheng laughed, and the sound settled like a thick fur blanket over Xie Lian on a cold winter night.
“I did, but I had you in my heart when I picked it.”
“Of course, you stole it from my title!” Xie Lian found himself chuckling.
Hua Cheng climbed closer and flopped down next to Xie Lian, propping his head up on his palm, looking down at Xie Lian.
“Gege calls me San Lang, though.” Hua Cheng added.
“San Lang, then.” Xie Lian acknowledged, “How did you come back? How long until I can see you again?”
Hua Cheng’s teasing smile quite suddenly drooped into a delicate frown and his gaze shifted from Xie Lian to the bed’s gauzy curtains.
Xie Lian shifted up onto his knees and hugged the ghost around his shoulders, pulling him to his chest.
“San Lang, I didn’t mean to make you sad!”
“It’s nothing your highness.” Hua Cheng said dismissively, his face pressed against Xie Lian’s collarbone, “We meet again in eight-hundred years.”
“That’s… not nothing, San Lang.” He said, holding him tighter, “Will I remember this? Will I remember you?”
Hua Cheng expertly wormed his way out of Xie Lian’s arms to plant a single kiss to Xie Lian’s pouting lips.
“Better yet, you’ll remember you.”
And just like that, eight-hundred and some years came back in the blink of an eye.
Xie Lian groaned and felt his throbbing head.
“Is the headache back?” Hua Cheng cooed and fussed over him, helping him to lay back, propped up on their pile of pillows. He pulled off Xie Lian’s boots and stripped him of his outer robe. He fetched him water, and then tea, and dimmed all of the lantern light in the room to a comfortable dimness.
He also tucked the belt, a birthday gift from his highness, back into the closet when Xie Lian swatted at it and groaned softly.
“I will figure out a way for you to not have headaches when you come back.” Hua Cheng swore, changing in an instant into soft sleep clothes and climbing into bed beside Xie Lian.
“It’s just too much to fit comfortably in my head!” Xie Lian murmured tiredly as Hua Cheng began to comb his hair.
Hua Cheng laughed softly and planted a kiss on Xie Lian’s cheek.
“Did you have fun?” He asked.
Xie Lain didn’t have it in him to nod, his head was too heavy and it felt like it was pulsing.
“Mn. Wu Ming was so cute. I got to apologize, too, which was good.” He sighed.
“And gege was so clever! Figuring us out like that.” Hua Cheng moved a finger and the bed curtains fell, obscuring the room’s light and swathing them in comfortable darkness.
“Leaving the string on was a dead giveaway.” Xie Lian chuckled as his husband wrapped him up in his arms and tucked Xie Lian’s head against his chest. His cool skin felt amazing on his burning forehead.
“We could take it off next time?” Hua Cheng suggested.
“No.” Xie Lian said quickly, “It brings me… comfort knowing it will always lead me back to you. Even if we don’t recognize each other.”
“I feel the same, gege.”
Hua Cheng’s fingers carded into his hair in a soothing repetition until Xie Lian felt his eight-hundred years’ headache ease, and he fell asleep against his husband’s chest, dreaming of his loyal soldier.