Work Text:
“Didi!”
Xie Lian looked up, a bit surprised at the warm address.
Who cares if this preceded a beating? The kindness in that call could sustain the fallen prince for another few months.
At the end of the alley stood a middle-aged man, sporting a few grey streaks in his hair and simple clothing.
A man like this wasn’t likely to be a generous donor, but Xie Lian held out hope regardless. He’d seen this person while he was putting up a busking routine on the street’s side. Perhaps he was particularly impressed?
Xie Lian stood up, tipping his bamboo hat.
“Good evening, sir! Can I help you?”
The man came up to him, and Xie Lian’s hope of donations faltered a bit further.
He wore a crooked smile, and the light in his eyes was dim. While Xie Lian had learned that books shouldn’t be judged by their covers, the covers still gave a good idea of what to expect.
Whoever this was, he was likely looking to strike a deal of sorts. Or make a proposition.
However, Xie Lian was still more than happy to listen if he was being offered an odd job somewhere.
“Listen, I saw you out there,” the man said, tone gentle but gruff. “And I couldn’t help but feel like you’re wasting your talents, young man.”
Xie Lian grinned.
“I am afraid there are few other places that require me to spin plates, good sir.”
The man laughed.
“Of course, that may seem true, except…
I own a place. I believe talents— and faces— like yours can be used.”
Xie Lian coughed.
“Forgive me, but I am not really trying to become a professional performer, sir. My street performances are just fine!”
After all, making a name for himself, no matter how small, made it harder for him to leave a place without anyone noticing.
It usually ended in him having to fake his own death before someone realised that the white-clad cultivator hadn’t aged past seventeen in the past decade.
“Really?” the man asked, brows furrowing. “How much could you possibly be making?”
“Not a lot,” Xie Lian admitted. “But I don’t mind!”
“Are you sure you wouldn’t like to try anything else?” the man pressed, taking a small step forward.
Xie Lian felt a bit uncomfortable.
Did this kind sir have to stand so close…?
Choosing to humour him for now, Xie Lian pretended to mull it over.
“What would be my pay if I agreed?”
The man named a decent wage, but it wasn’t enough for Xie Lian to jump at the offer. Nevertheless, he continued.
“And… what exactly is this place of yours?”
“I am certain you would recognise it,” the man said. “You know the large establishment by the river?”
Xie Lian frowned.
“…there’s a building near the pleasure house…?”
The man’s kind smile flickered, and he waited patiently for Xie Lian to catch up.
The prince’s eyes widened as the realisation dawned on him.
“Wait. You own the pleasure house…?”
“Yes,” said the man.
Xie Lian cut him off before he could say anything else.
“Good sir, I appreciate the offer; I very much do, and I have plenty of respect for the workers there, but I’d much rather not indulge in such business myself!”
“Why not?” the man pressed, and Xie Lian took a small step back. “You’d have food and board, and you could earn far more than you do here in the streets.”
“Ah… haha, how do I put this simply…”
Xie Lian made a show of fidgeting with the ties of his hat before turning back to the man.
“No.”
“Ah… that’s a shame,” the man said, taking a step back. “You have a good day, then.”
Xie Lian blinked.
…that’s… it?
He couldn’t believe his luck!
Someone offered him a job, he sharply declined, and this conversation ended without him getting beaten or forcefully dragged away?
The Heavens are merciful!
The man turned back to Xie Lian, a small smile forming once more.
Xie Lian couldn’t help but note that there was something almost… fatherly to it.
A strange expression for someone trying to sell you into prostitution, isn’t it…?
“You know where to find me in case you change your mind,” the man said, reaching out.
His hand landed on Xie Lian’s shoulder with a light pat.
The gesture sent a jolt through Xie Lian’s body.
Before the prince could process what had happened, the man had already turned away, taking the brief moment of contact with him.
Xie Lian almost called him back.
…what was wrong with him? Why was he tearing up all of a sudden…?
The prince lowered his head, swallowing back the sudden emotion choking him.
His hand reached up to feel the remnants of warmth on his shoulder.
It was gone as quickly as it came.
Xie Lian shook his head and walked away in the opposite direction.
Xie Lian couldn’t sleep.
He’d found a perfectly soft patch of grass and had built a decent lean-to over it with branches, shielding him from the cold winds that marked the beginning of autumn, but he still couldn’t sleep.
He rarely needed more than the clothes on his back to keep warm.
His body ached today.
“Ruoye…?”
The white silk band peeked out of his sleeve, looking up at him expectantly.
“C– can you…
Xie Lian swallowed, unsure of how to phrase his request.
He almost abandoned the idea, but… he was growing a bit desperate.
“Can you… p–pat me to sleep…?”
The ribbon, which was usually used for fighting or chopping vegetables, tentatively reached up.
It lightly patted one of its ends against Xie Lian’s cheek.
A tear slipped out.
Sleep never came.
“Gege, gege, calm down, please… look at me, gege…”
“I am p– perfectly calm, San Lang hahaha! Can’t y– you s–see I’m l–laughing hahaha HAHAHA!”
Hua Cheng’s gaze flicked to the third man in the room.
State Preceptor Mei Nianqing sat across from them, a table of cards in between.
For once, he wasn’t focused on gambling, instead holding one of Xie Lian’s hands in a grounding grip as Hua Cheng hugged his beloved from behind.
Xie Lian was laughing so hard he was crying.
Or perhaps it was the other way around.
It was expected that a talk with Jun Wu was bound to end in wounds, which was why Hua Cheng had advised against it from the start.
However, Xie Lian had gently reassured him, reminding him that there was a high chance that Jun Wu would reascend, and if that happened, Xie Lian would need to learn to face him without the weight of the world crashing down on him.
Xie Lian had emerged from the conversation appearing solemn, and Hua Cheng was preparing to teleport them away.
But just as he placed his hand on his prince’s shoulder, he was shoved away.
Xie Lian had broken down in hysterics.
“Shh… shh…” Hua Cheng soothed, rubbing Xie Lian’s back, keeping one arm securely over his chest. “Gege, it’s alright… it’s alright, you’re safe.”
Xie Lian yanked his hand out of Mei Nianqing’s grip and reached up to cup Hua Cheng’s cheek.
“M–my San Lang… w–worries so much…! I– I– y—you’re my San Lang, aren’t y–you…?”
“Of course I am, gege. I always am,” Hua Cheng murmured.
Mei Nianqing pulled his hand back, watching in silence, expression ashen.
He clearly had questions, and so did Hua Cheng, but neither could ask when Xie Lian was like this.
“D– don’t lie to me, please…”
Hua Cheng’s blood ran cold.
Xie Lian was looking up at him, eyes bloodshot, tears still streaming down his face.
“…please… please… please…” he mumbled, again and again and again.
“Gege, why would I lie to you?” Hua Cheng asked, wiping those precious tears away.
A hand slammed down on the table, breaking it in half.
“ANSWER ME DIRECTLY!”
Mei Nianqing’s soul left his body.
Hua Cheng didn’t flinch at the sudden scream, cupping Xie Lian’s face in his hands.
“I am your San Lang. Always was, always will be. I am no one else.”
Xie Lian’s expression softened, the laughter giving way to loud wails as he buried his face into the front of Hua Cheng’s robes.
Mei Nianqing pushed the pieces of the broken table off of his lap and stood up.
“Your Highness,” he said softly. “What did His High— what did Jun Wu say to you?”
Xie Lian didn’t answer, and Hua Cheng knelt in front of his seat.
“Gege,” he whispered, now meeting the prince at eye-level. “What happened?”
Xie Lian swallowed, trying to wet his parched throat.
Hua Cheng procured a glass of water from a storage array, handing it to his beloved.
After taking a sip, Xie Lian finally spoke.
“F– fake sk– skins… th— they were all— they were all—”
“Who, gege?”
Hua Cheng brushed a strand of hair away from Xie Lian’s face.
“Who were fake skins?”
“E— everyone… e— everyone I thought— everyone wh– who—”
Xie Lian shook his head.
“F— f— fake, all fake, all fake, all fake, all—!”
“Shh shh…”
A gentle kiss was pressed to the prince’s forehead.
“Here, listen to me. I’m real, okay?
I am real, and Guoshi is real. We want to know what happened to you, alright?”
Xie Lian nodded.
“Good.”
Hua Cheng pressed another kiss to Xie Lian’s cheek this time.
“Now… breathe in for two counts.
That’s it. Now breathe out. Four counts.
Breathe in. One… two…
Now out. One… two… three… four…
Better now?”
“…better,” Xie Lian agreed, voice still hoarse.
Hua Cheng handed him another glass of water.
“Now, gege… do you think you could tell us what happened?”
“It’s… um…”
Xie Lian cleared his throat and wiped his eyes.
“It’s nothing, don’t worry…”
“I am going to worry,” Hua Cheng stated simply.
“It— it really is nothing—”
“Your Highness, please,” Mei Nianqing said, softening his voice a bit. “Did he do something to you?”
“N– no, no no, he didn’t do anything…!” Xie Lian said. “H– he’s shackled to the corner of the room anyway, how could he—?”
Hua Cheng raised himself into a half-kneel, pressing his lips to his prince’s temple, then to his cheek.
He lifted one of Xie Lian’s hands and pressed a soft kiss to his knuckles.
“Gege doesn’t have to tell us anything that hurts him,” the Ghost King said, lifting a hand to card through Xie Lian’s hair.
“But, qīn ài de, we want to help you. And it would be difficult to do that if you don’t tell us what happened.”
Xie Lian bit his lip.
“I– I don’t want to— to…”
“You wouldn’t be burdening me, gege.”
After a moment of hesitation, Xie Lian finally shook his head, slipping off his chair to sit on the floor beside Hua Cheng and bury his face in Hua Cheng's shoulder.
The Ghost King and the ex-State Preceptor exchanged a look.
Xie Lian stared down at the glass in his hand.
“Go on,” the young man beside him encouraged.
The fallen prince gave the youth a polite smile.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “But I don’t drink. Thank you for the offer, though.”
With that, he returned the strong-smelling cup to the man’s hand.
The youth— named Jia Shen— took it back with a slight pout.
“You’re no fun, A-Xie!” he whined.
Xie Lian— under the alias of ‘Guan Xie’ at the moment— let out a soft chuckle.
“I hope Shen-didi won’t take this too personally.”
“I am taking this very personally,” Jia Shen huffed, putting away the glass that Xie Lian discarded and taking a long drag from his bottle.
“A-Xie comes to my house and doesn’t even bother to share a drink when it’s all I can offer!”
“Ah… then I hope Shen-didi can forgive me,” Xie Lian sighed.
Jia Shen made a show of mulling over his apology before finally shrugging.
“Next time, then.”
“I… wouldn’t be so certain.”
“A man can dream, okay?!”
Xie Lian laughed.
“Sure, sure. I’ll join you for a drink in your dreams, then.”
Jia Shen threw a cushion at him.
“So cruel, A-Xie…”
Xie Lian tossed the cushion back at his friend.
“Likewise, Shen-didi.”
“How you wound me!”
“And I am afraid I’ll have to be a bit more cruel to Shen-didi. I ought to get going now.”
Jia Shen gaped.
“So suddenly?!”
“It’s dark outside,” Xie Lian said with a smile, then added, “Perhaps you shouldn’t drink so much; it’s spoiling your vision.”
“Aiyah, the sun just went down! What are you, some old-timer with weak bones?”
You have no idea… Xie Lian mused to himself.
Aloud, he said, “After laying bricks all day, I do certainly feel like one sometimes.”
“Fineeee,” Jia Shen grumbled. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”
Xie Lian felt a slight pang in his heart.
…he was approaching the five-year mark… he couldn’t stay much longer.
He didn’t want his luck to cling to the villagers here. Not when they’d been so kind.
Ah well… what can be done? There is no banquet that doesn’t come to an end!
“Good night, Shen-didi,” Xie Lian said softly.
Jia Shen stood up on wobbly feet, walking up to Xie Lian.
Before he could realise what was happening, he’d been enveloped in a bone-crushing hug.
He froze.
“Are you sureeee youu can’t stay a liiiiiittleee longerrr…?” Jia Shen slurred against his ear.
Xie Lian couldn’t breathe.
“I– I– um…?”
He knew he had to go.
He knew he couldn’t stay for long, but…
…but…
…could one more night really hurt…?
…who knows when he’d feel warmth like this again…?
“O– okay…”
Jia Shen brightened immediately, tightening his hold.
When Xie Lian’s breath finally released, it was as a choked sob.
…he didn’t want to leave…
…he really didn’t want to leave…
Xie Lian had not spoken much after that initial refusal to explain what had happened.
He sat quietly on the bed as Hua Cheng read to him.
It was a random book that had been picked off the shelf. It was mostly about different cultivation paths and their basic rules.
Nothing important, or even particularly interesting, but Xie Lian wanted to hear Hua Cheng’s voice.
“…the current god known for following this cultivation path is General Xuan Zhen of the Southwest. The Scrap-Immortal His Highness Xianle was a known follower as well, before his marriage to the Red Ghost King— look, gege, your old path is in this.”
Xie Lian let out a soft hum of acknowledgement, gesturing for Hua Cheng to keep reading.
“This method of cultivation is considered amongst one of the oldest existing paths, and its rules are the strictest. It forbids any act that provokes extreme emotional reactions, including gambling, drinking, hatred and, most importantly, licentious acts.
…I still don’t understand the ‘hatred’ part… why is that there, gege?”
“…hatred is one of the strongest emotions… and one of the most harmful…” Xie Lian murmured.
“Though… the restriction on hatred was more of a guideline than a rule… and if you can do the other things in moderation, then those were also allowed…
…just… not the… last one.”
Hua Cheng was delighted that Xie Lian had responded.
“Well, I am quite glad gege has left that behind,” Hua Cheng murmured, breath ghosting over Xie Lian’s neck.
The Ghost King quietly rejoiced in the way his beloved shuddered, light flush crawling up his neck.
“San Lang…!” Xie Lian scolded.
Hua Cheng chuckled before relenting, pushing the book a bit closer to Xie Lian so he could follow the lines.
“This cultivation path—”
“San Lang,” Xie Lian interrupted. “Could we… move to the next one…?”
Hua Cheng shrugged.
“Sure.”
Xie Lian already knew the details of his old path inside and out anyway. Of course, he probably wouldn’t want to hear it again.
Hua Cheng dog-eared the page for himself to read later, though. He was a little interested in this topic, unlike every other path mentioned in the book, which he really couldn’t be bothered about.
His body grew heavy where it lay, but only for a moment.
As if he’d been hoisted into someone’s arms… but who’d hold him?
There was a loud creak, and Xie Lian—
Xie Lian could breathe again.
His freezing cold skin felt a blanket of warmth ease over it, like the winter sun was reaching out to embrace him.
The peachwood nail was still fixed firmly in his chest. He couldn’t move.
And he couldn’t see, so it couldn’t be…
He— he was dreaming again, probably. Dreaming of what life outside was once like.
Maybe it’d be his mother’s voice this time… or maybe Feng Xin’s…
Dreaming was nice. They could still hold him in his dreams.
“Hey, buddy, are we diggin’ over a tomb?”
“Whaddya mean?”
“I found a coffin.”
“And you opened it?! What the hell?! You don’t just open random coffins you find underground!”
…this dream was sounding far more hopeful than usual…
But Xie Lian still couldn’t see.
“HOLY SHIT IT MOVED! ITS HAND MOVED!”
“GHOST! GHOST! RUN! GET OUTTA HERE!”
Xie Lian’s hand could barely move, but he managed to reach up regardless.
He stretched his hand further… and further…
…the smooth wood of the coffin’s lid never came.
Help me, Xie Lian tried to say, but if a sound escaped his dried throat, he couldn’t hear it.
Help me!
I can’t move…
Why can’t I see…?
Ruoye…? Can you hear me?
I can’t see it, but… you feel it too, don’t you? The sun, the wind…
So warm…
I— I can leave now…
Please, help me out.
I want to get out.
Please, I’ve been trapped here so long…
Please…
It hurts…
Pull it out…
There’s enough space now. Please, pull the nail out; I can’t take it anymore. I can’t get up.
It hurts, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts IT HURTS IT HURTS IT HURTS!
Make it stop, please make it stop, someone please!
“Is this the ghost you were talking about?”
This voice was a young woman’s.
Try as he might, Xie Lian couldn’t recognise it.
…he’d never invented new voices in his dreams before, so it must be real, right?
Save me.
“It’s sayin’ somethin’!”
“Ren-gege, don’t worry. I’ll see what’s up.”
“A-Jing, are ya INSANE?! Get back from there!”
Save me, please.
A slender hand was pressed over Xie Lian’s chest, and with a sickening squelch and a shock of pain, the nail was yanked out.
“WHAT ARE YOU DOIN’?! WHAT IF HE’S CURSED OR SOMETHIN’?!”
“Oh, shush! It’s fine!” the young woman said.
…thank you…
“You’re welcome.”
…it hurts…
“It’s okay… what’s your name?”
…Xie…
“Hm?”
…Xie Lian.
“Do we know a ‘Xie Lian’, Ren-gege?”
“Uh… no?”
“Okay… where are you from, Xie Lian?”
…Xian… no… Yong… An…
“Hm? That kingdom fell a hundred years ago.”
…help…
“Okay, okay, hold on.”
Someone had lifted him.
Someone was carrying him out of that coffin.
Probably a man… he had broad shoulders.
The girl was walking beside whoever it was that held him, the light chinks of her anklet trailing behind them.
Xie Lian was certain his eyes were open.
He still couldn’t see.
My… eyes…?
“They’re… uh… a little… red?” the girl said.
…water…
“We’ll get you some, don’t worry. Just hold on a little longer.”
Xie Lian got to drink to his heart’s content, until his sunken stomach grew bloated from the blessed liquid.
It was only a few hours after this that the tears could finally fall, wetting his painfully dried eyes.
The girl— he learned that her name was Sen Jing— told him it wouldn’t be good for him to eat anything yet after going so long without food.
He didn’t have the strength to argue.
The sharp sting of cold water arrived, and Xie Lian let out a cry of protest as he was lowered into it.
“Shh! Shut up! You’re acting like I’m torturing you. Look at how filthy you are, Xie Lian! Covered in all this dried blood… were you the one who made those drawings under the coffin’s lid? Kinda morbid to use blood as paint… what were you even doing? One of them looks like a game of Dots and Boxes.”
…she doesn’t stop talking…
Good.
Xie Lian liked hearing her voice.
And he liked hearing his name too, said so casually.
“Ah… we’re probably gonna have to cut your hair though, Xie Lian.”
Xie Lian couldn’t help a soft whimper.
…he loved his hair…
He’d tended to it for years, carefully preserving it through every hardship. He didn’t want to cut it.
“I’m sorry! But it’s all clumped together with blood and dirt and stuff… it’ll grow back though, don’t worry. And you’d look very nice with a short cut. I did one like that in school. People said I looked weird, but I liked it a lot and…”
Xie Lian tuned out the sound of the scissors, focusing on this young woman’s voice.
His sight returned after a few months, and he could see her face.
They’d both cried that day, hugging each other and wailing on the ground like a pair of lunatics.
The neighbourhood boys— Ren Yu and Nie Fang— had come rushing in, thinking there’d been some sort of catastrophe.
They’d both been scolded severely once they calmed down, but then Nie Fang went and bought a large goat for dinner, as a celebration.
Stories had spread quickly about the man from the coffin, and how he was not only nice and polite, but also a skilled farmhand and a talented singer.
Xie Lian soon found that he had plenty of jobs to do, allowing him to earn money and pay back this benevolent trio that had rescued him.
But he was rewarded with a slap on the head with a broom when he tried to offer Sen Jing the money.
“Do I look like a paid servant to you, hah?! Keep your money to yourself!”
Five years went by in the blink of an eye, and Xie Lian didn’t want to go.
…but how could he be so selfish?
Much to his relief, it seemed he was beginning to overstay his welcome anyway. Sen Jing was growing more withdrawn around him. Her smiles had turned tight-lipped. Her stories turned brisk.
She was growing up, and perhaps growing to learn that she didn’t enjoy looking after a random man whom she’d found underground who wasn’t even related to her. He took up a lot of her time, after all; always trying to start conversations, and being an extra mouth to cook for.
The exit this time might be easier than it would’ve been a year ago, or two years ago.
…why won’t she talk to him…?
“You’re leaving, aren’t you?”
Xie Lian snapped out of his thoughts, finding Sen Jing standing in front of him.
“What makes you say that?” he asked with a light smile.
“You’re not slick. I saw you counting the days earlier.
What, do you have, like, a five-year-only limit wherever you go?”
Xie Lian couldn’t do much more than smile wryly. He wasn’t about to explain to her that he was the God of Misfortune.
“Fine, then,” she said with a huff, turning her head away. “Go, you bastard. Go run off with my heart like some damn thief.”
…
…what?
“A-Jing…?” Xie Lian questioned softly.
“To think— to think I thought this could work…”
Xie Lian could never bear to see tears in Sen Jing’s eyes, and he gently took her hands in his own.
“A-Jing, what’s wrong? Won’t you tell me?”
“I fell in love with you, you idiot! That’s what’s wrong!”
…oh…
What… do you even say in a situation like this?
Xie Lian never saw her as anything more than a loving little sister.
Not to mention… Sen Jing was aware that he was at least a century old!
“…A-Jing… I—”
“Oh, save it… I don’t need the pity speech,” she huffed. “Just… just let me go.”
So saying, she pulled her hands back and dashed away.
Later that night, however, while he was asleep, Xie Lian heard someone sneak into his room.
He heard them approach his bed, and he opened his eyes.
Sen Jing’s face was alarmingly close.
“Ah! A-Jing? What are you—?”
“Shh…” she whispered, pressing her finger to Xie Lian’s lips, a small smile forming.
This felt…
…wrong…
“If you’re going away… then I thought you should leave me something to remember you by.”
Was it really so easy to forget the man you dug out of the earth?
Xie Lian wasn’t sure what was happening, but his hair stood on end.
…though there was really no other interpretation for when her hand closed around the ties of his belt.
Xie Lian bolted upright, backing away.
“A-Jing! What on earth—?!”
“Oh come on,” she purred.
…this was strange… this was completely unlike her…
“Don’t you think I’m pretty? At all? Surely a man like you would like the attention.”
“A-Jing, do you hear yourself?”
“Loud and clear. Now come here.”
Xie Lian left that very night, without so much as a goodbye to anyone around.
Hua Cheng should not have allowed that conversation.
He could never refuse his beloved anything, but that should have been the moment he put his foot down.
Xie Lian hadn’t had a nightmare that affected him this horribly for the past year.
Now he was clinging to Hua Cheng, crying his heart out, the trembling refusing to stop.
And the only words the prince managed to get out were “White No-Face”.
By the time Xie Lian had calmed down, he was so thoroughly worn out that he fell back into deep slumber.
Hua Cheng hugged his sleeping husband tightly, wishing that his own slender arms were enough to shield his beloved against every threat, or at least every horrid dream that tried to touch him while he rested.
My love… what did he do to you?
“Gege, please, you are killing me here…” Hua Cheng said the next morning.
Usually, watching his prince hum leisurely to himself as he looked at the different swords in their armoury was a welcome sight.
It was unbearable this time.
Xie Lian turned around, brow furrowed in concern.
“What happened, San Lang…?”
Hua Cheng wanted to rip his hair out, but he kept his voice even.
“Don’t tell me we’re pretending again… gege you were crying your eyes out.”
“I’m alright now, San Lang…”
Usually, when Hua Cheng was frustrated or angry, the person in front of him would be blown to pieces, or nearby furniture would bear the brunt.
…for the moment, the only release available was angry tears. Like he needed more proof of how pathetic he was.
A gentle tongue told him otherwise, as a pair of calloused but loving hands wiped away his tears, but Hua Cheng felt no relief.
“Gege, won’t you just tell this San Lang what he can do?”
Xie Lian’s expression was grim.
“…you’re doing more than enough, San Lang… so much more… please don’t cry, Qīn ài de.”
Hua Cheng almost melted immediately, the nickname like a soothing balm over the pain in his heart.
…but how much could balm do for a hundred stabs?
“Gege… please, just tell me what’s wrong…”
Xie Lian swallowed.
“…holy cow… A-Lian, I— I’m so sorry that happened!”
“You… had nothing to do with it, Qingxuan… but… thank you for listening.”
Shi Qingxuan shook his head vehemently.
“There’s nothing to be thankful for; we’re friends, aren’t we? You can talk to me any time! But by the gods, that– that is so creepy…”
Xie Lian let out a wet chuckle.
Creepy certainly was one word for it.
“But Xie Lian, I’m a little surprised you came to me instead of your Crimson Rain Sought Flower,” Shi Qingxuan wondered, fidgeting with a patch on his tattered robes.
The prince swallowed.
“I’ll be honest… I would have told San Lang, but… when he learns about anything that happened to me, he gets hurt. But I– I had to talk to someone, or I’d keep… crying…”
Hua Cheng was perhaps a little bit bitter when Xie Lian told him about his plan, but he was glad that Xie Lian had planned to tell someone at all, even if it wasn’t himself.
Shi Qingxuan made a little ‘o’ with his lips.
“Well, your secret’s safe with me, A-Lian!” he said, before making a motion as if locking his mouth, and then throwing away the key.
“Thank you, Qingxuan…”
Shi Qingxuan nodded for a while, but then, as if he couldn’t hold back, he turned to Xie Lian again.
“So you’re… you’re telling me that all those people you mentioned, over the course of eight hundred years, they— they were clones?”
Xie Lian nodded, eyes starting to sting a bit again.
“Clones… puppets… f–fake skins…”
“So they were clones belonging to Jun Wu? Because he was trying to—?”
Xie Lian buried his face in his hands and Shi Qingxuan immediately backtracked.
“Never mind! Um… so I killed a chicken yesterday. Plucked it myself and everything!”
Xie Lian said nothing and Shi Qingxuan kept talking.
“It was really hard to catch in the first place… and watching it struggle for its life wasn’t really fun. I’ve been thinking about going vegetarian, actually… you think that’s a good idea?”
“…I… could ask Lord Rain Master… to send some vegetables, if that’s what you want…”
“Great!” Shi Qingxuan said, clapping his hands together. “That’d be amazing! The meat’s no good without enough salt anyway. Tell her to send one of those radishes. Have you seen the size of those things? They’re so big, they could probably feed half the entire clan here! Imagine two or three of those things… that’d be truly amazing, though…”
…he doesn’t stop talking…
Good.
It reminded Xie Lian of—
She wasn’t real.
—and the light pout when Xie Lian said he had to leave—
He wasn’t real.
—and the light pat on Xie Lian’s shoulder before he turned away—
It wasn’t real.
Nothing was real.
Nothing had been real.
Nothing was—
“Gege, you’re back!”
“S– San Lang… I— I’ll tell you e— everything, just…
…p– please…
Hold me…”
“…it’s not fair… it’s NOT FAIR!”
“Shh shh shh… it isn’t, gege. It really isn’t. But please, take a few deep breaths for me?”
“I can’t— I always f— f— I always believed— he wouldn’t let me believe—”
“It’s alright. Gege can speak freely.”
“I can’t FUCKING take this! P—people can be k–kind out of the goodness of their hearts but that BASTARD he—
…now I don’t know what— what was real, what was fake, what was—?”
Xie Lian had clenched his fists hard enough for his nails to draw blood. Hua Cheng carefully took those hands and pressed soft kisses to them, healing the wounds.
“It hurts… San Lang, it hurts so much…”
“Shh… I know, gege. I know.”
“And it— it was— it was because of my—! Th– they were trying to wreck my— with drinking and— and—”
“Shh… breathe with me first. One… two…
One… two… three… four…”
“I— I can’t—!”
“No, you can. You’re doing so well already. Here, one… two…
That’s it.
Can gege talk now?”
Xie Lian nodded slowly.
“Okay. Come here, sit with me.”
Hua Cheng wrapped an arm around Xie Lian’s shoulders, guiding him to the edge of their bed.
Xie Lian wanted to have this conversation with his face buried in his husband’s shoulder. Hua Cheng had no objections, even if he had to strain his ears a bit to make sense of the muffled sounds.
“I’ve… people…” Xie Lian mumbled.
“You’ve… what?”
Hua Cheng heard something, but he was quite certain that he was interpreting it wrong.
“I’ve—(???)— people…”
This was about to be harder than expected.
Hua Cheng was hearing something between ‘shoved’ and ‘fucked’, neither of which made any sense whatsoever.
<Gege,> he finally said, in their private communication array. <Forgive this San Lang, but he can’t hear you. Could you talk to me in here instead?>
<…okay…> Xie Lian replied, voice loud and clear in Hua Cheng’s ear.
<I’ve loved a lot of people over the centuries…>
Loved.
Of course.
Hua Cheng carded his fingers through his beloved’s hair, heart twisting.
<And when— when my faith began to fade, then… I’d remember these people. Th– that when everyone else was cruel, they— people like them made e–everything worth it.
…m– my shackle… allowed… Jun Wu to know where I was… always.>
Hua Cheng’s hand stilled.
<He kn– knew where I was… and he still felt th– threatened by m– my cultivation, e–even though my p–powers were sealed.
…so he… t– tried to make me break m–my vows… one by one… u– using puppets to— to—
I th–thought they w–were just being p–playful o–or misguided, or—
…Jia Sh– Shen was a habitual drunkard… A-Jing was still y– young… and th–there’s nothing wrong with running an h– honest b–business. I– I never thought those could be—>
<…>
<Th– there were more that he mentioned… and he said that those were only off the top of his head, he— I—
He— he said that he th— thought I should know… but he c–couldn’t even tell me how many skins he’d made… just that… there were others.>
<…>
<San Lang, he said that he never forced it because that’d be too far…>
Xie Lian’s grip tightened around Hua Cheng’s robes.
<Like he was expecting me to thank him! For what? For not raping me?!>
Hua Cheng slowly breathed through the unbearable pain in his chest.
<Gege has nothing to be—>
“How is what he did any better?!” Xie Lian cried out, sitting up straight, gripping Hua Cheng’s collar with both hands.
“How is that any better?! He— I thought they were FRIENDS! I—
…Jia Shen… jiǎ shēnfèn (false identity)… he said I should have noticed, but how was this MY FAULT?
He can use all the clever little wordplay he wants, he still meant to trick me!
And surprise surprise,” Xie Lian released Hua Cheng’s collar.
“He. TRICKED. Me!”
Each word was punctuated by a strike to the mattress.
Hua Cheng sent a few butterflies under the bed to hold it secure. The wood was the finest in the three realms, but his god’s strength was not to be underestimated.
For his own part, every word that spilled from his beloved’s lips, every pained cry, made his own cold blood boil with rage.
But Xie Lian needed this, and Hua Cheng was not about to interrupt.
The prince stood up, teeth clenched so hard that they might have cracked.
“He toyed with me, San Lang… like I’m some little puppet in his stupid, stupid game of— I don’t even know…”
He buried his face in his hands.
“What happened in Wuyong was horrible, but— why me? I didn’t— no, I did NOT deserve ANY of this!
And collapsing my kingdom and stealing my life wasn’t enough?! He— he—!”
Words failed him, and the prince stomped his foot against the ground.
Hua Cheng caught him before he could crumple to the floor.
“…I would have said yes, San Lang…” Xie Lian whispered.
“Hm?”
“J– Jun Wu knew what he was doing… he— he knew that I— that I was so disgustingly desperate f–for—
…for somewhere to stay, for a daily meal, for someone to just hold me instead of— of…
If someone— anyone— had pushed just a bit f– further, I— I would have said yes, if— if it meant they’d s– stay afterwards…”
“Gege,” Hua Cheng said, struggling to keep his voice even. “You were hungry, lonely and constantly roaming. Anyone would have lost their mind if they endured half that pain.
There is nothing ‘disgusting’ about what you wanted. Anyone who exploits that is the disgusting one.”
Xie Lian swallowed.
“Y— you’re right… I— I know you’re right, but…”
A soft kiss was pressed to Xie Lian’s forehead.
“No ‘buts’. What happened was horrific, and it will never be your fault. That musty old hag can frame it however he wants. He is still the predator here. Alright?”
Xie Lian nodded.
“Y– yes…”
Hua Cheng tucked his beloved’s head under his chin.
“…my love…” he murmured. “…my husband is so strong…”
“…it doesn’t feel that way…” Xie Lian whispered, breath ghosting over Hua Cheng’s neck. “I— I’ve been crying all day…”
Hua Cheng tightened his hold.
“But my prince is still standing.”
“Found you!”
“Oh no…” Xie Lian lamented, crawling out from under the table. The little girl in front of him giggled in delight.
“Banyue truly is an expert at this game, isn’t she?”
“General Hua is so silly!” the girl said. “You’re too big to hide under there!”
Xie Lian let out a laugh at that.
“Ah… is that so? I never realised.”
Banyue let out another giggle.
“Okay, now help me find Xiu-gege!”
“Alright, alright. Let me get up first.”
With a light grunt, Xie Lian pulled himself up to his feet.
“General Hua is getting old,” Banyue observed aloud.
“Wha– hey!”
Banyue grinned, and Xie Lian decided enough was enough.
He hauled the insolent child like a sack of rice, carrying her on over his shoulder.
“Ha— General HUA! Put me DOWN!”
Xie Lian chuckled.
“I don’t think I will.”
Banyue kicked at him.
Xie Lian knew, however, that she was only playing around. The girl was far stronger than she looked, and a real kick from her would, at the very least, erase any man’s hopes of future children.
After a while, she stopped resisting, resorting to grumbling to herself instead. The laughter never left her voice, however.
He walked through his small house with her— paid for with a soldier’s meagre wage in the kingdom of Banyue— listening carefully.
As he passed by the closet, Xie Lian heard a small noise.
He put Banyue down, and then put a finger on his lips, signalling her to be quiet.
Banyue nodded.
Then, slowly, he inched towards the closet door.
Someone was laughing inside.
Xie Lian had never known Pei Xiu to smile, much less laugh before. The child must have been caught up in the game.
The thought warmed his heart.
Not enough to spare the boy, however.
Xie Lian pointed at the closet door, and Banyue suppressed a giggle, stepping forward.
“I wonder where Xiu-gege went…” she mused. “General Hua, are you sure you checked outside properly?”
“Of course I have. There’s no one there,” Xie Lian said.
“Oh, well, I’ll just go and check again!”
Banyue exaggerated her footfalls, making loud thumping noises as she pretended to walk away.
Pei Xiu immediately went death-silent. The older boy was not fooled, but he had no escape either.
Xie Lian decided to shorten the boy’s suffering by opening the door right away.
Pei Xiu let out an undignified “OOF–!” as Banyue immediately leapt inside to tackle him into a hug, giggling manically the whole time.
Someone ought to cast this child as an evil sorceress or something… Xie Lian mused.
Banyue dragged Pei Xiu out of the closet, reaching up to try and tickle his sides, but the boy immediately grabbed her in a headlock and ruffled her hair until it fell out of its ties.
The girl screamed, laughing out her protests.
“Pei— Pei Xiu-gege, no—! AAAAHAHAHAHA!”
Once they’d finished their roughhousing, Banyue, thoroughly spent and hair completely disheveled, walked up to Xie Lian and grabbed his sleeve.
“…m’hungry…”
It was said so softly that Xie Lian had to strain his ears to hear it.
No matter how comfortable she grew around him, this was one thing that she grew almost shy to ask for.
Xie Lian smiled.
“Alright. Let’s go buy something.”
Banyue’s face brightened, and she reached up towards him. Xie Lian bent down, lifting her into his arms more carefully this time.
Pei Xiu trailed behind them.
“Your Highness Xie Lian, Lord Crimson Rain Sought Flower, a pleasure to see you again.”
“The pleasure is all mine, Lord Rain Master,” Xie Lian said, bowing courteously. Hua Cheng followed suit.
Yushi Huang mirrored the gesture.
“Your Highness has arrived at a prosperous time. The rice will be ready for harvest soon.”
Xie Lian smiled.
“I am aware. But I hope Lord Rain Master has some radishes to spare this time around.”
“Did Shi Qingxuan ask for them?”
The prince nodded.
“Alright. I’ll have a few sent over,” Yushi Huang said with a gentle smile. “But I don’t believe that His Highness came here personally to ask for radishes.”
“Ah– ahem, well…”
“General Hua!”
A young woman had poked her head out from a cottage on the edge of the Rain Master’s fields.
She came running over at the sight of Xie Lian.
Xie Lian’s smile brightened.
“Banyue, there you are! How have you been?”
Banyue stopped short just a few paces of colliding into him.
“I’ve been well, General, how about—” her face fell a bit as she got a better look at Xie Lian.
“…how about you?”
“I’m alright,” he said easily, patting her head.
Crimson Rain and the Rain Master decided to give the pair some privacy, moving a bit further away to chat amongst themselves.
Noticing that they no longer had company, Banyue leaned a bit closer to whisper, “Have you been crying…?”
“Hm? Oh, um… no, no, just got something in my eyes earlier.”
“Oh… do you need water to wash it out?”
“No no, it’s out now, don’t worry…
Is Pei Xiu back from his travels yet?”
“No… but he did send back a letter saying he’d be back by Mid-Autumn.”
“Ah, well that’s something to look forward to, then.”
Banyue gave him a small smile.
“Would General Hua be spending Mid-Autumn with us this year?”
“I was planning on it,” Xie Lian replied.
“Then Lord Shi would be very happy. He wished you were here last Mid-Autumn. And so did the rest of us…”
“Did he, now? You see, Qingxuan doesn’t tell me these things. Now I have to celebrate with all of you.”
Banyue let out a sheepish laugh, and Xie Lian patted her head again.
“Oh, General Hua, you are crying!”
“Haha… don’t mind, Banyue. These are happy tears.”
“…if you say so… um… come inside! I picked some peaches earlier. Would you like to try them, General?”
“…I’d like that very much.”
<Is gege feeling better now?>
<Much. Thank you, San Lang…
You were right… it wasn’t all false.
Banyue, Qianqiu… they were there…
Also these peaches are so juicy— you should try some!>
<I would, gege, but I am afraid I have been employed.>
<Ah–? Oh, is that you in the fields over there?>
<Alas, gege, I am too skilled to be left idle. The villagers have enlisted my help. I’m trapped until my prince comes to rescue me…!>
<Hm. Perhaps some work would do you good.>
<Gege is so cruel to this San Lang…>
<Hahaha! I’m joking, don’t worry. I’ll come and help you.>
Xie Lian and Banyue were soon out in the fields as well, helping the farmers weed their crops and plant saplings.
Hua Cheng was shielded from the sun by his beloved’s bamboo hat, a fact that he was incredibly grateful for.
He expressed as much by pressing a long, deep kiss to Xie Lian’s lips right in the middle of the fields.
Fortunately, the farmers didn’t complain, instead looking away respectfully.
Xie Lian did complain, however, smearing mud on Hua Cheng’s face as revenge.
Hua Cheng’s grip on his arm was always real.
Banyue’s laughter was always real.
The farmers’ amusement and their goodnatured banter was always real.
Yushi Huang’s gentle, slow voice was real.
Shi Qingxuan’s friendship was real. Feng Xin and Mu Qing’s love was challenged, but real. Lang Qianqiu’s reverence and forgiveness were real. Quan Yizhen’s gratitude was real. Ling Wen’s kindness was real.
Please…
Jia Shen was not real, but the other brick-layers were, and they hadn’t been less kind.
Sen Jing was not real, at least not when Xie Lian knew her, but the rest of the village was.
The villagers of Puqi were real, and their kindness was bountiful.
Don’t take this away…
And that one man in the rain, with a bamboo hat, carefully shielding a cursed prince… he was real.
…right…?
Several precious memories had been tainted, but the truths weren’t erased.
Xie Lian loved the common people, and there were common people who loved him back.
…he couldn’t tell the difference before…
Xie Lian would not take that love for granted.
…how could he tell now?
Mei Nianqing squeezed his temples, willing for a meteor to strike upon this wretched ground right now and spare him from this horrid migraine.
His prince sat across from him, shackled to the corner of his cell, watching him with the apathy of a regular passer-by, rather than someone who just told him about psychological torture.
“Your Highness…” Mei Nianqing breathed out, finally. “Even if fate forgave you for the sins at Wuyong, the crimes you have committed against this one man have outright broken the scales…”
Jun Wu looked up from his corner.
“I know.”
“You don’t seem to know, Your Highness… don’t you feel guilty at all?”
“That’s why I told Xianle. He deserved to know.”
Mei Nianqing was starting to regret choosing to hear this from the horse’s mouth.
“Your Highness… you’ve scarred him.”
“Should I not have told him?”
“That’s not what I— how do you even get into a situation like this…?”
Mei Nianqing heaved a sigh, mulling over his next words carefully.
“Listen. You did right by letting him know, but you should have gathered the full picture before you did that.
You can’t just tell someone, ‘oh, I fabricated a certain number of your memories, and I have no idea which ones they were, or how many there were, so go have fun figuring that out!’.”
“How was I supposed to gather it? In case you haven’t noticed…”
Jun Wu lifted his hands, shackles clinking.
“I. Am. Right here. You could have asked.”
Jun Wu huffed.
“Would you really have helped, or only silently judged me like you always do?”
“I would have helped and silently judged you. Your Highness, you realise that this was a violation on so many levels. And then you proceeded to spin the tale around and pin the blame on His Highness. How could I not judge?
But I still would have helped.”
Jun Wu was quiet for a moment, before turning to face the wall, pointedly turning his back towards his visitor.
Mei Nianqing sighed, standing up.
“Just… let me know, next time, before saying or doing something so suddenly.”
Jun Wu didn’t answer.
He didn’t turn back as Mei Nianqing left.
“Gege? Won’t you come back to bed?”
“Mm… in a bit. The stars are lovely tonight…”
Hua Cheng moved to stand next to his beloved on the balcony, setting down a tray with two cups of tea on the flat railing.
Xie Lian seemed to glow in the starlight, his eyes catching the glittering of the sky as if he held the whole universe in them.
…though, for the moment, Hua Cheng knew, the only thing those eyes truly held was pain.
Xie Lian had woken up in the middle of the night, robes drenched in cold sweat.
He’d stared at Hua Cheng’s face for a good, long moment, before getting up and walking away.
The prince reached for a cup, giving Hua Cheng a small smile as he lifted it to his lips.
Hua Cheng lifted his own cup, taking a small sip.
“This is wonderful, San Lang… thank you.”
“Anything for you, gege.”
Xie Lian shook his head in amusement, turning back to the scenery outside.
This balcony overlooked the garden that Hua Cheng and Xie Lian had grown together after their marriage.
A patch of mud in a place as infertile as Ghost City was now laden with nighttime blooms that captured the moonlight, shining brighter than life in the darkness below.
The moon wasn’t out tonight.
The twinkling of the little stars was still enough.
“Gege… I don’t think I know the names of all the stars…”
Xie Lian let out a soft laugh.
“I don’t think anyone knows the names of all the stars, San Lang.”
Hua Cheng chuckled.
“I know, but this one, regrettably, doesn’t know any.”
Xie Lian’s brows raised in surprise.
“San Lang is so knowledgeable… surely, you know at least a few?”
Hua Cheng rested his elbow on the railing and propped up his cheek.
“I suppose… I was never quite interested in them before.
…but seeing gege love them so much…”
Xie Lian smiled, moving to stand next to his husband so their sights would align.
“Then…
Let me show you, San Lang.”