Chapter Text
The crimson silk drapes of Paradise Manor swept softly against the polished obsidian floor, filtering the warm, golden light of the late afternoon. I leaned back comfortably against San Lang’s chest, letting out a soft sigh of pure contentment. The air around us smelled faintly of sweet maple, fresh tea, and the rich, familiar scent of his incense.
This quiet, post-canon honeymoon was absolute bliss. After eight hundred years of wandering, hardship, and collecting scraps, being here in his arms felt almost surreal. San Lang was spoiling me terribly, fulfilling my every whim before I could even voice it. In fact, he had been so determined to ensure we had completely uninterrupted alone time that he had personally banished our genderfluid spiritual weapons to the furthest depths of the armory, locking them away just so nothing could distract us from each other.
I smiled, turning slightly to look up at him. "San Lang, you really didn't have to lock them away. They might get lonely down there."
San Lang chuckled, a low, rumbling sound against my back as his arms wrapped more securely around my waist. "Let them stay there, gege. They've had your attention for long enough. Right now, this Lord only wants your eyes on him."
Before I could reply to his playful teasing, the heavy oak doors of our chambers creaked open with a sudden, hesitant scrape.
We both looked up. Standing in the doorway was Yin Yu. They looked utterly exhausted, their shoulders slumped and their hands trembling slightly as they held a bizarre, official-looking report. But it wasn't Yin Yu's tired expression that caught my attention—it was the two small figures lagging just behind their robes.
"Your Highness, Ghost King," Yin Yu began, their voice laced with a mixture of dread and profound fatigue. "I deeply apologize for interrupting your... private time. But there has been a highly unusual accident in the armory. A rogue, experimental potion left behind by a guest spilled from the upper shelves. It leaked directly onto the weapons and... well, E-Ming and Ruoye have turned human."
I blinked once. Then twice. My jaw dropped in complete, stunned silence as I stared at the two toddlers shuffling into the room. Then, all at once, my heart completely melted.
Awwww! They were the absolute cutest little kiddy babies I had ever seen!
The black-haired child representing E-Ming was dressed in vibrant, oversized crimson robes that pooled heavily around their tiny feet. True to their scimitar form, a small black eye patch was fitted over their left eye—matching exactly where San Lang's eye was missing, while leaving their right ruby eye wide, blinking, and full of emotion. The moment their single, ruby-red right eye landed on me, it widened with absolute affection.
Completely breaking away from Yin Yu, the little toddler scrambled frantically across the floor, their tiny hands clutching at the fabric of San Lang’s robes until they managed to climb directly onto his lap. E-Ming curled up tightly against San Lang's chest, shifting their head to rest right in the crook of his arm while staring up at me like a needy, clingy puppy begging for pets. They let out a soft, tiny whine, their fingers twitching toward my hand.
San Lang, however, looked completely exasperated by his own inner child's unfiltered emotion. A dark look crossed his handsome face as he stared down at the toddler version of his weapon. Letting out a sharp, annoyed sigh, San Lang reached out with two fingers and gave the child's forehead a firm flick, muttering under his breath about useless, emotional sabers. E-Ming whimpered softly, squeezing their single right eye shut and burying their face deeper into the red silk, refusing to leave the comfort of their master's lap.
Meanwhile, little Ruoye was a picture-perfect angel in pure, snow-white silk robes. Their long, silver-white hair was tied neatly into an adorable, tidy bun at the top of their head, giving them the appearance of a precious, miniature cultivation disciple.
Unlike E-Ming's chaotic, desperate clinginess, Ruoye was deeply loyal, calm, and incredibly sweet. They toddled over to my side, their bright blue eyes shining with pure innocence. When I reached down and gently stroked their soft hair, they beamed happily, leaning into the warmth of my palm.
However, the peaceful moment didn't last long. The moment Ruoye looked over and saw E-Ming occupying the prime real estate of San Lang's lap—right next to me—their childish, competitive streak sparked. Their big blue eyes narrowed slightly, and they puffed out their cheeks in a tiny pout. Reaching out with their small hands, they firmly grabbed the edge of my white sleeve, tugging on it with surprising strength. They tried to pull me away from San Lang and E-Ming, instantly entering a silent, fierce competition to win my undivided love and attention all to themselves.
Yin Yu rubbed their temples, looking between the two clinging children and their terrifying boss. "My Lord... what should we do with them?"
I couldn't help but laugh, wrapping my free arm around little Ruoye to lift them into my lap, while using my other hand to gently pat E-Ming's head despite San Lang's sour expression. Our peaceful honeymoon had just become much more lively.