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“I have a request.” Xie Lian says one day over dinner. He’s been psyching himself up to ask all week.
“Oh?” Hua Cheng grins, absolutely delighted that his kind, selfless husband is asking for what he wants, “Gege should know I am always happy to fulfill his every desire.”
“I know, it’s just this one is... a little out there.”
Well. Now Hua Cheng certainly is curious. What could Xie Lian be thinking of, to make him so blushy and nervous? What wonderful treat is Hua Cheng in for?
“Would you be willing to indulge me and, ah-” Xie Lian stops, looking up to the ceiling of their cottage. He really needs to dust up there. So many cobwebs. He’s not going to give up on making this request, even if Hua Cheng seems to have gotten the wrong idea about the subject matter, if the sultry smile on his face is anything to go by. After a moment, he continues, “Could you bring back Wu Ming, just for an afternoon? I would like to... Well, to treat him the way I should have the first time.”
Although this is not at all what Hua Cheng was expecting, his smile doesn’t fade. If anything, it grows a little brighter, sweeter. He is so lucky.
“Of course, my love,” His voices comes out more syrupy than he intended, but he doesn’t bother trying to curtail it, “Would you like for me to have all my memories, or bring back Wu Ming as he was at the time?”
“I was thinking you’d have all of them and be yourself, just with a different face. But... maybe some other time...”
“That would be fine, gege. So, when would you like him?”
“Tomorrow?” Xie Lian surprises himself with his eagerness, “Ah, if you don’t already have plans, that is.”
“Nothing could be more important than spending time with you, my love.”
“Don’t shirk your responsibilities just for my silly whims, San Lang.”
“I was planning to fix the table from yesterday, but that’s all.”
“Ah. Right,” Xie Lian blushes furiously at the reminder of what he did to that poor table, “Again, I’m so sorry about that.”
“That was in the top five experiences of my existence,” Hua Cheng murmurs, far too seriously, “The table should be honored to have been part of it. It died a noble death.”
“You-!”
Hua Cheng grins wider, and Xie Lian sighs, letting the topic drop. He hadn’t meant to break the table, really! It’s just that he was excited, and still not used to the vast swaths of power running through him, and well, the table couldn’t take it. Hua Cheng could though, and did, and meant it when he said it’s one of the best things ever to happen to him. To have driven Xie Lian up the wall with lust until he literally slammed him through a table is pleasure beyond compare. He wouldn’t even be fixing the table if he hadn’t been asked, would have put it in the treasure room where it belongs. But Xie Lian claims this would make him die of shame, so fixed the table shall be.
Xie Lian stays behind at the cottage while Hua Cheng fixes the table the following day. He says he needs to make preparations for their day out, and Hua Cheng grows yet more curious as to what he’s in for. The second the last nail is in, he appears at the cottage, already wearing his Wu Ming form. Xie Lian whips around to face him, feeling a familiar yet unfamiliar presence.
“Ah, you sealed your energy.” He says softly, feeling Wu Ming’s aura wrap around him like a well worn blanket.
“I only masked it. I’m just as formidable as usual, but no one will know that except us.”
“Good, good. I know you hate feeling weak,” Xie Lian pauses to just stare, “You really do look just like him.”
“Well, he is me. Or at least he was.”
“Yes, but...”
He trails off, tears starting to blur his vision. His Wu Ming is here, and he’s so happy to see him that he might pass out. The tears start to fall, but he remains stock still.
“My Wu Ming…” He whispers, taking a step forward. He’s trembling from head to toe.
Hua Cheng is immediately spooked by the strength of his God’s reaction. He’d figured Xie Lian would be emotional, but not to the point of crying and shaking. This might’ve been a bad idea. Hua Cheng’s energy swells to change back to a more normal form. True form, San Lang, hell, even the pathetic child form didn’t make him cry! As soon as Xie Lian feels the change in energy, however, he’s across the room with both arms around Wu Ming’s shoulders.
“Don’t go!” He pleads, and Wu Ming complies for now. If this is going to be too much, he’ll have to back out, but maybe- maybe Xie Lian needs to cry about it? He never really had the chance at the time. Maybe it would be good for him to let it out.
“Your Highness,” Wu Ming says softly, same voice, still muffled by the mask, “It’s alright if you want me to change back.”
“I don’t, I really don’t,” He sniffles, dragging Wu Ming into a tight embrace, “You’re back.”
“I am, Your Highness.”
“Ah, I probably should’ve warned you that I might cry. Just give me a second and we can head out.”
“Take as long as you need, Your Highness.”
Xie Lian sighs against his collar, then lets out a ragged sob. He tugs Wu Ming over to the divan, then pulls him down so he’s seated on his lap. It takes about an hour for him to calm himself down, shaking in stops and starts. Hua Cheng is still not entirely sold on this idea if it’s making him cry so much, but Wu Ming stays in his lap nonetheless.
“Thank you,” Xie Lian murmurs, voice a little hoarse, “I really needed that.”
“Are you feeling better, Your Highness?”
“Yes, very much so. Ah, maybe I should’ve let myself cry on your shoulder back then. I didn’t realize how much better I would feel,” He pauses for a moment, “You don’t need to call me ‘Your Highness.’ You can, if you want, but I won’t insist on it one way or the other. And while we’re on the subject of names, what- ah, what should I call you?”
“It doesn’t really matter to me, Your Highness.”
“It wouldn’t bother you if I called you Wu Ming? You have a name now, and I shouldn’t have been so awful to you in the first place.”
“You said that you wanted to take Wu Ming on a day out, my love. Wouldn’t it defeat the purpose if you called him something else?”
Xie Lian thinks that over for a moment, then nods. With as much love as he can infuse in his voice, he gently calls that not-name. Wu Ming slumps in his arms. He didn’t realize how much of a relief this would be for him, either. He takes a moment to press his forehead to Xie Lian’s shoulder, long body curled forward, both arms loosely around his neck.
“I love you, my Wu Ming. I think I did back then too, I was just too- well, I was preoccupied with other emotions.”
“Your Highness...” Wu Ming mumbles, overwhelmed and audibly in tears.
“If you had come to me looking like this back on Mount Yujun and told me I was your beloved, I would’ve married you on the spot.”
Wu Ming makes a strangled sound, then, “I would’ve been thrilled.”
Xie Lian chuckles at that. He braids and unbraids Wu Ming’s hair a few times, waiting for him to calm down. Eventually he does, stretching out his back.
“Could you take us to the town from last week? The one we passed through on our way to that haunting?”
“Of course.”
And he does, dice landing them just outside of town. It’s a beautiful little place, with fields and fields of red and white flowers. Wu Ming smiles to himself. He’s a very sentimental man, honestly he’s a downright sap, and it’s always nice when Xie Lian manages to match him in that regard. Xie Lian gently takes his hand and leads them both to a tree in a clearing in the middle of one of the fields. He must’ve been scoping the place out this morning, Wu Ming thinks fondly. He absolutely has the energy to transport himself places these days but often allows himself to still rely on his husband. He knows how desperately he wants to be of use, after all.
Xie Lian pulls out a blanket and basket from behind the tree. The blanket is pretty, and Wu Ming recognizes it as one Xie Lian patched up last week. It’s not the fanciest thing in the world, but perfect to lay in the grass. He spreads the blanket in the shade and takes a seat, tugging Wu Ming’s hand until he sits too, close enough that their knees touch. Xie Lian gives his hand a squeeze, then opens the basket to reveal-
“Flowers?” Wu Ming asks, confused but flattered by all the effort Xie Lian has put into their day out.
“I picked them this morning so we could spend more time exploring. And this way, they’re a little dry but not brittle yet.”
He takes a bundle of white ones, handing Wu Ming the reds. The white flowers aren’t exactly the same as the ones Wu Ming and Hong’er before him used to offer. Those are very nearly extinct everywhere except the ghost realm. Still, they are achingly similar, and Wu Ming watches in awe as Xie Lian gently cradles the bouquet to his chest.
Then, he starts to weave the stems together and Wu Ming smiles under the mask. So that’s what they’re doing to start. How very sweet. It’s been a while since Wu Ming made a flower crown, but he manages to remember well enough. It turns out neat and tidy, a bright halo of red. Xie Lian’s crown isn’t very neat at all, the ends of the stems sticking out at odd angles, some of the white petals crumpled, but Wu Ming thinks it’s perfect. Of course he’d love to wear something Xie Lian made; he never would’ve taken off that belt if Xie Lian hadn’t very nearly pried it off of him. Wu Ming fiddles with his own crown, wondering if he could ask to swap.
“Ah, yours is much better, Wu Ming,” Xie Lian says, sounding sheepish, “I was going to ask you to wear the one I made, but-”
“I love it,” Wu Ming’s smile is audible in his voice as he leans forward and bows his head, “Would you like to wear mine, Your Highness?”
“I would.” He smiles, gently placing the crown on Wu Ming’s head, and allowing Wu Ming to do the same.
It isn’t the fanciest headpiece he’s ever worn- he was a prince- but it’s definitely his favorite. Well, either this one or the wedding veil.
“Shall we get dinner?” He asks, taking Wu Ming’s cold hands and pulling him to his feet.
“You didn’t pack anything?” Wu Ming pouts under the mask, “Leaving me bereft of Your Highness’ cooking, how sad.”
“My Wu Ming is being dramatic.” Xie Lian giggles, delighted to hear Hua Cheng’s usual teasing in Wu Ming’s voice.
They turn a few heads walking into town, Xie Lian in his cultivator robes holding hands with someone who is obviously a ghost. Still, the townsfolk are polite, largely viewing it as none of their business as long as neither are hurting anyone. The ghost seems pretty tame, happy to be dragged from stall to stall on the main street, attempting to pay for things and being promptly shut down by the cultivator.
“I’m not giving you much of a day out if you’re the one paying for everything!” He scolds lightly.
“I like providing for you, my love.” Ah, well that would explain why he’s so tame. He’s whipped.
“And you do a very good job of that. Please, let me do the providing for today?”
“As you wish.”
It’s when they’re eating noodles at a small inn that trouble arises. A group of four cultivators already inside all take notice of Xie Lian and his ghost, watching as they sit across from each other at a corner table. They’d come to deal with that haunting a few towns over, only to find out it was already resolved. Now they’re returning home empty handed and somewhat frustrated.
When their bowls arrive, Wu Ming stares at his food for a moment before taking off his mask. He could’ve just tipped it up enough to expose his mouth, but decides Xie Lian should get to see the face he never had a chance to before. He already knows about the eye, has seen it in E’ming and wasn’t disgusted, so hopefully he won’t mind seeing it in its original location.
“Pretty.” Xie Lian whispers.
“You think so?” Wu Ming asks lightly, fishing for compliments and in genuine need of reassurance.
“I know so. My pretty ghost.”
Wu Ming preens, smile crinkling the corner of his red eye in a very familiar way. Xie Lian wonders if his other emotions look the same as E’ming’s as well. As they eat, both can feel the gaze of the four cultivators still on them. They try to ignore them, instead focusing on the food and pleasant company.
“Want to try mine, Your Highness?” Wu Ming asks, extending a bite across the table. Xie Lian blushes but eats off his chopsticks, humming with delight.
“It’s spicier than mine. Here, you try.” Xie Lian says, and offers Wu Ming a bite from his bowl.
Wu Ming starts to lean forward, but stops abruptly and quickly redons his mask. His eyes catch on the group of cultivators now approaching their table. When Xie Lian notices, he first assumes they’ve taken issue with him and Wu Ming being too lovey-dovey in public. Then, the leader of the group sneers at Wu Ming, and Xie Lian feels something hot in his chest.
“What is something like you doing, following him around?” He huffs. He’s an older man, maybe in his mid forties, and he speaks to Wu Ming like he’s a child. Wu Ming suppresses a snort.
“Hey!” Xie Lian says, quickly standing, “Leave him be, he’s not doing anything wrong.”
“I think I am well within my rights to follow my husband around.” Wu Ming says, brimming with pride on the word ‘husband.’
“Oh you poor fool, duped into marrying that thing.”
“Quit calling him a thing!”
“I can help you, you know, if you need someone to take care of your haunting problem.”
Despite knowing that Wu Ming is still Hua Cheng, just in a different form, Xie Lian can’t help the raw possessive fury that threatens to spill out when that cultivator offers to end his ‘haunting problem.’
“Get away from my ghost.” He snarls, stepping between the two.
Wu Ming’s eyebrows raise under the mask, surprised and elated. Xie Lian is puffed up like a tomcat, arms out a little to block the man’s view of Wu Ming. The man rolls his eyes, tutting at Xie Lian like he’s nothing more than an unruly brat. He doesn’t back off enough, and Xie Lian takes a single step forward.
“You would actually fight me? For that?” He snips, arms folded over his chest.
“No, because I won’t damage this innkeeper’s place of business. I don’t need to fight you,” Xie Lian is still fuming, firmly placed in front of Wu Ming when he lets a brief hint of his aura out. It’s a minuscule amount in the grand scheme of things, but makes the cultivators all jump back, “Leave him alone.”
“You’re crazy! You- you actually keep that thing around? All that power and you don’t make it leave?”
“Do not call him a thing.” Xie Lian growls.
He’s gone from white hot rage to ice cold fury, and Wu Ming decides that enough is enough. He has greatly enjoyed the show thus far, adores how protective Xie Lian is being, but not if it’s making him this upset. He’s starting to pant like he’s genuinely afraid that anything- let alone these four chumps- could take his ghost away from him. Wu Ming stands, tenderly placing his hand on Xie Lian’s shoulder.
“Gege,” He says softly, “You don’t need to stand here and let them piss you off. We can go somewhere else.”
“Ah, but we haven’t finished eating!” Xie Lian says, voice warm and soft again the moment he turns to Wu Ming.
“Then let’s sit and do that. Don’t pay them any mind; you know they won’t be able to lay a hand on me.”
“You’re right,” Xie Lian sighs, shoulder loosening a little under Wu Ming’s palm, “Here, try my noodles. We were so rudely interrupted earlier.”
They both sit back down and Wu Ming takes his mask back off, now completely ignoring the group standing stunned beside them. The leader squawks in indignation, starting to draw his sword. That damn ghost, taunting him, saying he wouldn’t be able to lay a hand on it! His hand only just graces the hilt when a little silver butterfly lands on his nose. He pales, glancing back to the ghost, who’s smiling sweetly at the man across from him. Or, probably not a man. A god. When the ghost’s gaze flicks briefly to him, his smile is suddenly cold and fanged.
“Sorry to have bothered you, sirs! We will take our leave.” He announces, and hauls ass out the door.
Wu Ming chuckles suddenly, struck by a realization.
“What’s so funny?” Xie Lian asks, still feeding him from his bowl, alternating who’s feeding and who’s getting fed. They have each had more of each other’s food than their own.
“We scared them off while still wearing the flower crowns.”
“Ah. We probably didn’t look very intimidating,” Xie Lian laughs, then sobers, “I’m sorry he said all that to you, sweetheart.”
“It’s fine, Your Highness. Nothing I haven’t heard before.”
“But you know it’s not true, right? Right, San Lang?”
“I know. You tell me every day, my love.”
“And I will continue to do so. You spent a very long time with no one around to say nice things to you; someday you will have spent even longer hearing them from me.”
Wu Ming swoons, propping his cheek on his hand and beaming. His full, real smile (complete with his cute little fangs) is still one of the prettiest things Xie Lian has ever seen. His ghost in any form is the most beautiful, wonderful person he’s ever met.
Night has fallen by the time they’re ready to leave town. The innkeeper offers them a room, but Xie Lian shakes his head and claims he’d already found them a place to stay. He leads Wu Ming back out to the blanket under the tree, flopping down on his back and gazing up at the stars. Surrounded by flowers and lit only by the moon, Wu Ming stops to simply stare at him for a moment. He’s gorgeous, always has been, and Wu Ming is so lucky to be laying by his side right now. They hold hands as they lay there, talking softly about all the ever changing stories about the constellations.
“A few hundred years ago, that one was supposedly a cat,” Xie Lian says, pointing a group of stars, “But now the mortals are saying it’s a dog. I suppose both have eyes, ears, and a nose.”
“That they do, Your Highness.”
Xie Lian smiles and leans over to kiss his cheek, then to lay over top of him and kiss him more thoroughly.
“It’s dark out,” He says, and with the night vision of a ghost Wu Ming can see how pink he is, “And the town is a little ways away. We could probably...”
“With me like this?” Wu Ming asks, unsure what answer he’s hoping for.
“If you wouldn’t mind. We’ve never been together like that when you’re like this.”
“I wouldn’t mind at all, Your Highness.”
Xie Lian kisses him again, starts to undress him, and Wu Ming eagerly reciprocates. When they’re laying in the afterglow, still nude with only Xie Lian’s robe over their tangled bodies, Wu Ming presses a kiss to his God’s forehead.
“Was it everything you wanted?” He asks, stroking through his soft brown hair.
“Mm, it was. I love you, my Wu Ming.”
“We should head home before the sun comes up.” Wu Ming doesn’t really care if anyone sees him, quite frankly he’s fine showing off just how attentive a lover his God is, but Xie Lian would cry with shame if anyone saw them naked and sticky in a field.
“You’ll let me keep holding Wu Ming when we get there?”
“Of course. For as long as you want.”
Xie Lian nods, and Wu Ming transports them back to the cottage. The blanket and basket are set aside, and the couple happily snuggle into bed together. True to his word, Wu Ming lets Xie Lian keep holding him all night, only changing back in the morning after he’s given the okay.
“I just didn’t want to wake up with you gone again.” Xie Lian murmurs, embarrassed.
“You won’t be rid of me that easily, gege.” Hua Cheng teases, and Xie Lian nuzzles into his chest.
“I certainly hope not,” He smiles, “Now, I believe I owe you a home cooked meal. Something about being bereft?”
The sun is warm in their cottage, and his God is in his arms. Hua Cheng doesn’t think he’s bereft of anything. Still, he nods, making a production of whining how he’ll waste away unless Xie Lian makes him breakfast. Xie Lian snorts and kisses his cheek, then goes to start the fire in the stove. Hua Cheng thinks he’ll ask to do this again sometime, maybe without his memories. He doesn’t like feeling weak, that’s true, but maybe it’s alright to let Xie Lian protect him every once in a while if it makes him happy. That, and Hua Cheng knows he’ll find it hot whether he has his memories or not. Some things never change.