Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It had been an awful day.
Xie Lian wasn't a stranger to them, those days that felt like the hours stretched into eternity only so that the universe could pack in more moments of panic and discomfort. This was hardly the worst day he had ever had. Things had most certainly been worse before, but it was the worst he had had in a long time. In a way he had almost forgotten what it felt like, being hot, exhausted, and hungry to this extent. His body had almost forgotten the empty ache of being pushed past his limit mentally and physically. It really had been so long.

After their marriage, Xie Lian and Hua Cheng's life had seemed to take on a sort of easy simplicity. They awoke each morning in each other's arms and Xie Lian felt the quiet bliss that most couples only reach in the final years of life. Somehow, the pair had found that domesticity that comes after decades of loving one another in a shockingly short period. Their bodies and lives weaved around each other as if in a perpetual unspoken dance that was as easy as breathing for Xie Lian.

Though, he supposed they had had plenty of time to learn given how many years they spent running towards each other. It made sense, the way they so easily intertwined when finally given the chance.

Their days were usually spent accompanying another on various tasks. Whether tending to Puqi Shrine, a crisis in The Ghost City, or an urgent request from the Heavens, they found ways to do most things together. Xie Lian had once wondered, in his youth and naivety, how one didn't get sick of their partner spending every waking moment with them. The idea of choosing one person to share his life with forever had seemed a daunting task on the rare occasions it was on his mind at all.
Time, as it does with most things, changed that. Time, but also Hua Cheng. Any doubt he might have had in his younger years had been chased away so profoundly by one man. One man who he knew he could never grow tired of. Not his smile, not his laugh, not his hands, not his sharp tongue. Xie Lian could never bore of all of the small seemingly effortless ways he reminded the God of his love every day. Xie Lian realized, that even their most frivolous of conversations, the ones that they would most likely repeat hundreds of times more, still felt engaging and important when the one he was having them with was Hua Cheng.
Wholly and completely, he was loved. Wholly and completely, he loved in return.

Xie Lian supposed it was this easy pattern that made him forget how unpleasant a day could be. A truly terrible day was inevitable, Xie Lian thought, even with his husband's brilliant luck.

It had started out normal, waking into easy silence, cradled in a pair of strong arms, the slight floral and smokey sent the ghost king carried flush in Xie Lian's mind. He had sighed contently and buried his face deeper in the other man's chest before opening his mouth to wish him a good morning.
His greeting was cut off, however, by frantic shouting in his communication array.

Before he knew it, Xie Lian and Hua Cheng were rushing out of Puqi shrine and towards whatever danger lie again in the Banyue desert at Ling Wen's request.
Of course, Hua Cheng had put on a show of annoyance at the heavenly officials for ruining their morning, but neither of them had been particularly perturbed.

There had been groups of cultivators going missing in the area, according to Ling Wen. Concerning, but hardly enough for such an urgent rescue. That is, until some of lower ranking Gods sent to check on the manner had suddenly called desperately for help in the communication array, only to be unresponsive when any of the other officials tried to ask their exact location. Given the amount of powerful individuals who had seemingly vanished without a trace, it was cause for concern.

The couple had been confident they could swiftly resolve the issue, however.
This proved to be false, as the investigation alone took the better part of three days. Three days out in the heat, which San Lang had difficulties with in the best of times. Because of their rush, the two had been uncharacteristically unprepared, and found themselves without adequate supplies early on.

Once they finally identified the cause of the disappearances (a particularly nasty spirit wielding an unusually strong cursed object) they had been in Banyue for nearly five days. By the time they were able to mend the situation, they were thoroughly exhausted and desperate to go home.

Everything that could have gone wrong seemed to. From minor inconveniences like getting lost inside a frustratingly simple maze array for a few hours, to the horrifying moment when Ruoye almost tore anew while fighting to free the cultivators.

In honest, the whole ordeal had left Xie Lian quite rattled. By the time the two were finally able to collapse into the soft bed of Paradise Manor, both felt too exhausted to say much of anything to each other. Perhaps his exhaustion was why Xie Lian had failed to notice anything off about his husband.

Or, at least, that was the only thing Xie Lian could think of. Something must have of been wrong last night, because something was certainly wrong now.

Instead of the usual somehow-warm embrace he awoke to, Xie Lian stirred to find himself cold and alone on his side of the bed.

Curled into himself, and deathly still, was his husband on the far corner of the mattress

"San Lang?" Xie Lian called softly, sleep still clinging to voice.

He couldn't see the other man's face, his back was to him adding to the strangeness. All he could see Hua Cheng's inky black hair spooling around him. His normally impossibly broad shoulders seemed smaller, more fragile, caving in on themselves.

"San Lang? Are you alright?" He questioned again after receiving no response.

He was no stranger to his love's insecurities or how randomly they arose. There were days, though fewer now, where Hua Cheng seemed to inexplicably crumple. He would become less sure, obtaining a timidness he almost never showed. He would apologize so often, and look at Xie Lian with a reverence that made his heart break. Like he suddenly remembered that the other was far too good for him, and that this life they had built was beyond reach for his mangled hands. Xie Lian hated those days, and did all he could to try and bring back the cheeky arrogance that suited his husband best. To assure him of his worth, of his irreplaceable spot in Xie Lian's heart. He hated those days, but also understood they were as much a part of his San Lang as any other. He knew that while he could give Hua Cheng the love he deserved, he might not always allow himself to take all of it.

Xie Lian knew those days, knew all of the signs, but this seemed… different.

He stared intently at the other man's back in a heavy silence waiting for a response.

Without warning, Hua Cheng sat up stiffly and moved even further to the edge of the bed.

Were his shoulders trembling?

At last he spoke, but his words did little to comfort Xie Lian's growing worry.

"I apologize, Dianxia." His voice was low and unsure.

Xie Lian's face twisted slightly, there were times when that title on his husband's lips felt as fine as priceless silk, this was not one of them.

"What for? Dear, what's the matter?" He shifted slightly closer, wanting desperately to touch the other man, but afraid of spooking him.

He seemed too light. Barely there, about to blow away and fall apart right before Xie Lian's eyes.

"This lowly one apologizes, I… I don't know how I got here. But, I- whatever I have done it was never my intention to take advantage of Dianxia's kindness!" His words began to tumble out in panic towards the end.

Whatever restraint he had earlier was swiftly broken, without thinking the God reached out to pull his husband into his arms.

Maybe it was the wrong move, because the instant Xie Lian's arms encircled his waist the other man immediately stiffened. Nonetheless, he held Hua Cheng with the same firmness that he always did. Solid and comforting. Hua Cheng had once told him how much he liked it- how stable and there Xie Lian felt when he held him like this. He could only hope the same was true now.

"It's alright, deep breath." Soothed Xie Lian. Though, he couldn’t be sure if he was speaking only to his panicking beloved.

Despite his obvious stress, the other man seemed to at least attempt to listen. Xie Lian sighed. With his chest pressed against the other's back, he almost expected to feel an erratic heartbeat. He wondered if Hua Cheng could feel his.

"You're ok. You're safe."

"I… I'm sorry."

Xie Lian loosened his hold to push back some of his husband's silky black hair from his neck. He hoped it would be somewhat calming, but he didn't miss the slight shiver it sent through him instead.

"Hey, look at me." Almost obediently, Hua Cheng shifted in the embrace to face him. "You haven't done anything wrong. Although, I'm a bit concerned. You don't remember how you got here?"

Now fully seeing his face, Xie Lian began to suspect what might have happened. Instead of his husband's usual form donning a black eye patch or identical deep maple irises, he stared back at Xie Lian with a mismatched pair: One black and one red. Xie Lian knew Hua Cheng would do what he could to avoid appearing like this. Something was definitely wrong.

"I do not, Dianxia. I wish I did. If I have inconvenienced you in any way it was not my intention." Anxiety laced his words. Unlike his usual layer of unreadability, this Hua Cheng's face contorted in obvious fear.

"You haven't inconvenienced me at all, San Lang," He paused. "Although, should I call you that? What do you go by?"

If the situation was anything like the one Xie Lian feared, he supposed his husband might be confused by that name.

Hua Cheng pulled a face like the question almost burned him. However, he recovered quickly and tried to find a neutral collected appearance.

"Do you not remember either, your highness?"

"Remember wh-"

Before Xie Lian could answer he was cut off by the other man.

"Not that I expect you to waste your time remembering all of your servants! I did not mean to insinuate that I was important enough to be remembered that easily, Dianxia." His eyes were wide and voice shaky.

That didn't sit right with Xie Lian, regardless of the state of Hua Cheng's memory.

"No, no. Don't say that. Of course I remember you. You're my most devoted follower. I know you. I'd know you anywhere.

Hua Cheng's eyes widened. Was there a glassly sheen to them? His lip quivered slightly. An action so small, Xie Lian might not have noticed if he wasn't so on edge.

He hoped it wasn't true, but at this point he needed confirmation so he could figure out how to proceed.

"Wu Ming?" Xie Lian questioned softly.

"Yes, Dianxia?"

Xie Lian drew in a shaky breath of his own. The man in front of him, the one he adored as much as feared, seemed to be aware of the turmoil his response immediately set off.

Hua Cheng, no, Wu Ming surged forward somewhat desperately to try and comfort his God. He wasn't exactly sure what to do, nor had he seemed to notice just how close the two were, yet. Xie Lian's hands had migrated to loosely press along his back, fingers holding him gently in place.

If Wu Ming had his wits about him, he certainly would never allow himself the honor of touching his God like this. But Xie Lian looked as if he were about to cry, and he knew he had to do something.

"Dianxia… why… tell me what to do. Whatever it is that's upsetting you, I'll stop it." Wu Ming feared the culprit was him.

This seemed to snap Xie Lian out of his stupor. He looked at the other man, near inches away from his face, and gave his best attempt at a reassuring smile.

"I'm fine, Wu Ming. Thank you for worrying, though."

Hearing thanks from his God's lips over something so simple did a number to Wu Ming's already jumbled thoughts.

Taizi Dianxia, Xie Lian, his one and only God, was here. Holding him like he was more than just the tool of vengeance he knew himself to be. Dianxia was here and he seemed… frightened… but safe. Nothing like the hallowed empty version of his God Wu Ming had been traveling with only yesterday. The one who had stomped on his flower and snapped at him for space.

He did not blame him, he never could. He understood the pain his God was in, and he only hoped to ease it even a little. If harsh words and revenge against the people who had scarred him so completely were the way to do that, Wu Ming was honored to be a part of it.

This Dianxia, though… there was a light back in his eyes that Wu Ming saw even through his uncertainty. He no longer wore that foreboding two faced mask, his warm deep eyes open and unguarded in their concern.

Concern for him? Wu Ming wouldn't dare assume that, but the thought filled his chest with an unruly warmth. Of course, that warmth was quickly chased by guilt.

But how had he gotten here?

Was this some sort of sick fantasy his mind had conjured up? He hardly ever dreamed anymore, not since his death. When he did it was usually in violent flashes of pain. His, Hong-er's, Dianxia's. So much pain and fear he could hardly tell whose it was most times. This wasn't that, though. But what other explanation was there?

Lost in thought, Wu Ming failed to notice Xie Lian's sudden wave of calmness.

He was still scared. Though he and Hua Cheng had talked at length about the time in their lives when they knew each other as a fallen prince and a nameless soldier, Xie Lian could never quite shed himself of the guilt he felt for being so cruel to the other man. Hua Cheng assured him he did not mind, and that he had always understood that Xie Lian's anger was not all he was. Still, the thought of how his love's heart must have bruised after every attempt to reach out was met only with venom twisted the once prince's guts unendingly.

He was still scared, scared to face himself, scared to face the man he had let down and hurt more than anyone.

He was scared, but he knew this was something. Something he could fix. Something he could do for Wu Ming, a chance to comfort him. A chance to love him, and give him the kindness he always deserved but a younger Xie Lian could not have offered.

Xie Lian moved a feather-light hand to cup the side of the ghost's face.

Wu Ming's churning mind suddenly stopped at the contact. All coherent thought immediately lost.

Dianxia, his God, was holding his face so gently he could almost melt. What was this? What had he done to deserve this? How he prayed it wasn't a dream.

Xie Lian smiled at him, one he knew his husband adored (Hua Cheng had only told him a million times what his husband's smiles did to him).

If Wu Ming still had blood to flow, he knew a deep flush would be coloring his face.

"Wu Ming," Started Xie Lian, "I know you're probably very confused right now. That's alright. I need to explain some things to you. It may be a bit overwhelming. Do you trust me?"

As if he even had to ask.

"Of course, Dianxia. Of course."

Chapter Text

Xie Lian was kind above all else. Wu Ming knew this, and most times it was a much needed reprieve from the cruelness the rest of the world had to offer. In a way, lies could be a kindness. He had seen the way so many people danced around the truth as to not harm one another. He himself had been on the receiving end of many obvious stares and placating words on the account of his eye. There were always ones who tried to be kind and swore it didn’t bother them.

They hardly noticed.

It was a lie. Of course it was, they would cower in fear and turn their heads just the same as anyone else. Only, then their rejection was now colored with fake sympathy and painted on smiles. Smiles full of pity, yet unable to conceal their disgust.

Wu Ming knew that his God would never lie to him, not like that. Or, at least he would never keep information that his servant needed to know. The ghost wasn’t so disillusioned as to think his God told him everything he was thinking. He knew better than to push it. Knew it wasn't his place, wasn't his right to question his God. He wanted to, though. He had more questions than answers.

After waking up with no clue where he was or how he had gotten there, Dianxia had begun to slowly fill him in on everything he had missed. Which had apparently been a lot. Nearly 800 years.

Xie Lian had pulled back slightly to begin his story. Dropping his hand from Wu Ming’s face hesitantly. He didn’t want to overwhelm him, didn’t want to frighten him any more than he already was. The God didn’t want to let him go, not really. He didn’t want to end their precious brief points of contact, but this wasn’t about him.

Wu Ming sat in front of him, colder now that he wasn’t practically in Xie Lian’s lap. He tried not to think about that lest his mind be sent into another flurry of want and subsequent self hatred.

Xie Lian explained, somewhat unsteadily, the events of the past few centuries. He hadn’t enacted his revenge on Yong’an, he had ascended again only to fall moments later. He briefly described his many years as a nomadic trash collector and his brief time as Guishi of a neighboring empire. He had, quite pointedly, left out his resulting extended stay buried alive in a coffin. The God tried to keep it upbeat, perhaps skimming over the more gruesome details of his many failures. He could always tell him later, Xie Lian thought. In his own cowardness he realized he didn’t want to see the flashes of pain that would fill Wu Ming’s face if he knew just how bad things had gotten without him.

He told Wu Ming of Jun Wu’s secret identity, the way he had tried to end Xie Lian when he was discovered. He spoke of their final battle, of reuniting with Wu Ming only a short time earlier, and how the two had become fast friends. Xie Lian did not quite touch on the extent of their relationship. How he desperately wanted to bombard the young ghost with his love, to let him know just how much he knew and how sorry he was. He wanted to hold him as he had earlier, but this time wanted Wu Ming to know without doubt that he did it out of love. The same love he knew the ghost felt for him. He wanted to confirm that aching hope and more.

Xie Lian wanted all of that, but figured husband might be a bit too much for his Wu Ming to process at the moment. He already seemed swamped with thoughts and worry.

After Xie Lian finished his story, Wu Ming looked off to the side, eyes filling with regret.

“And where was I, your highness? Why… Why wasn’t I with you? You claim that I’ve lost memories of centuries, the last I can recall I was with you. You said we were reunited? Hundreds of years later… What happened? Why were you alone? Did I do something to anger you?”

Xie Lian hated that that was the first place his love’s mind went, but he couldn’t say he was surprised.

"No of course not. You did nothing wrong. Quite the opposite in fact, you... You sacrificed yourself for me. The vengeful spirits in that sword, they had to go somewhere. I couldn't contain them, and I realized that punishing the innocent people who had no real say over what happened in Xianle was unjust. I was ready to try and take them myself, but you, you took that burden from me. You let them consume you, it nearly destroyed you and I- I could only watch."

Xie Lian had told himself he wasn't going to get choked up. He needed to stay strong for Wu Ming. He had been through so much because of Xie Lian, he would go through so so much more for him. It was selfish of Xie Lian make him comfort him in this now. Because he knew his husband, that is what he would always try to do.

"I'm sure I did it willingly. I know I did it willingly. I would have taken more. It was my honor."

Those were the words the broke Xie Lian, silent tears fell from his face.

He didn't know how to tell him, how deeply those words hurt. How much he cherished every action Wu Ming did in his favor. The simple gift of his delicate flowers, his endless loyalty, the fact he willingly offered up his life for Xie Lian over and over again.

Even now, he was reaching forward to predictably console his crying God. How could Xie Lian even begin to tell him how much he meant to him? Xie Lian feared no matter what he said the ghost would never fully understand the depths of love the God carried within his chest. He hardly fully understood it himself.

But he had to start somewhere didn't he?

Pulling the ghost into a bone crushing hug seemed as good of a place as any.

________

“Well, this is certainly a problem.” Ling Wen rubbed her temple. “You’re confident it’s related to the incident in Banyue?”

“Well, not exactly… but I really don’t know what else it could be!”

Xie Lian wasn’t exactly thrilled about the prospect of going to Ling Wen for help with Hua Cheng’s condition, but he didn’t really know what else to do. He had already asked Yin Yu to investigate. The once God had been as perplexed as he was, but had promised to do what he could to find more information.

Shockingly enough, it had been his suggestion to bring the problem to Ling Wen. She had more or less acclimated back to her position as Civil God. Her previous transgressions were somewhat overlooked for the sake of having her expertise functional again. These days the heavens seemed to have an uneasy alliance with her. Mu Qing and Feng Xin had been keeping a watchful eye on her. As far as Xie Lian could tell with their constant updates, she hadn’t done anything suspicious of late. If anything, she seemed to carry on business as usual, but with a pointed resigned sadness that was almost impossible to ignore.

Inside what now served as her new (though much less lavish) palace inside the heavens, Xie Lian couldn’t help but feel a pang of sympathy for her. While her actions were most definitely wrong, it would be a lie to say he didn’t understand in a way.

“None of the officials, cultivators, or civilians we rescued showed any sign of memory impairment, your highness.” She sighed as she began to pull scrolls from her overflowing desk. How she found anything in the mess was a mystery to Xie Lian.

“The vengeful spirit in Banyue managed to incapacitate three Martial Gods and many cultivators, do you think it impossible that it may have inflicted some sort of unknown curse on one of us?”

Ling Wen looked at him somewhat irritated. Maybe this was a bad idea, she was clearly overworked at the moment. Honestly, when wasn’t she?

“Anything is possible, your highness. But we have to think of what is likely. Do you honestly think a spirit of that caliber would be able to inflict such damage on Crimson Rain himself? We’ve retained the sword it was using to attack civilians with, you’re welcome to look at it yourself. I doubt it will hold the answers you’re looking for.” Her voice was still full of pleasant diplomacy, but it was clear the conversation was over.

In the end Ling Wen was right. Xie Lian spent hours pouring over the blade looking for any sign of a deeper spell or curse upon it, but found none. In the hands of a spirit with an emotional tie to the weapon, it became an entity with power far beyond itself. Sitting cold among Ling Wen’s many files, it was hardly more than a decorative toy.

No further along on his quest, Xie Lian returned to Paradise Manor. Wu Ming had been alone for so long. He felt guilty about it, but the ghost had assured him he would be fine on his own.

“I’m not a child, your highness. How can I properly serve you if I can’t be trusted to watch myself?” He had said when Xie Lian offered to have Yin Yu stay with him.

He knew full well that Wu Ming could take care of himself, but he still felt uneasy about leaving him alone for too long. So much of Wu Ming’s time until then had been alone. Alone and waiting for Xie Lian in the brief moments he could reach for him. Xie Lian wanted things to be different, however short the time they had together was, and immediately leaving him behind to run to the heavens was not getting off to a good start.

Still, he had to be certain of what was happening. He had to be sure that this lapse in memory was not damaging his husband in any unseen ways. Though despite his efforts, Xie Lian was no closer to figuring that out than if he hadn’t left at all.

Before he had left, Xie Lian told Wu Ming he was welcome to go anywhere in Paradise Manor and that he would give him the full tour when he returned if the ghost was up to it. Wu Ming had nodded solemnly, but Xie Lian doubted he had taken the words to heart.

As expected, he returned to find Wu Ming much in the same place he had left him, sitting patiently on the small stool in the corner of the room. He had at least taken one of the books off the ornate shelf on the western wall of the room and been flipping through it with mild boredom.

As soon as Xie Lian entered the room the man seemed to shift. Not really on edge, because of course even in strange circumstances he felt intrinsically comforted by his God’s presence, but every part of his being seemed to turn towards Xie Lian. Every piece attuned, clear and waiting.

“Welcome back, your highness. I take your trip was useful?” Wu Ming said, rising to greet him.

Xie Lian sighed and pushed his hair from his face absentmindedly, “Not as useful as I would have liked to be honest.”

With the ghost turned to him Xie Lian saw the full span of his face. What he had missed earlier made his stomach sink slightly. Instead of Wu Ming’s earnest but unsure eyes meeting his own, the empty crescents of his signature smiling mask gazed back at him.

The last time he had seen that haunting smile was when the broken screaming souls had consumed his body. When Wu Ming had paid so dearly for Xie Lian’s sake. He had been so new before Xie Lian’s actions nearly destroyed him again. Barely corporal for a few days before he was torn apart by the hatred and black pit of despair that his God had created.

To see it now, that mask grinning back at him as if no harm had come to its wearer at all, it was almost too much for Xie Lian to bear.

“Wu Ming, where did you get that?” He tried not to let the obvious stress in his voice show through, though he doubted he was successful.

“I thought you would prefer this, Dianxia.” Wu Ming ducked his head slightly.

He was horrified to realize in Xie Lian’s absence that he had been speaking to the prince so exposed. Xie Lian had held him in his arms and looked into that awful, awful thing sitting inside his skull for heavens know how long. He knew that Dianxia would never think the same disgusting thoughts others did about him, but surely it mustn’t have been pleasant to try and comfort his follower with a physical reminder of misfortune staring back at him. Surely this was better?

Even if it wasn’t for his God, Wu Ming felt it better for him at the very least. He had taken up the mask first as only a way to serve Xie Lian as what he was, a nameless faceless warrior. A tool undeserving of identity. Why should he have filled his God’s mind with images of himself when it was already filled with enough horrors? He didn’t need to know, he could protect from afar, and a lack of facial recognition was certainly its own form of distance.

It had started that way, sure, but now he found he clung to it as some sort of security blanket. He chided himself internally for his own stupidity, but that’s what it was. Without the mask he felt naked. Too exposed, too vulnerable, too easy to rip apart.

If what Dianxia said of his sacrifice had truly come to pass in that manner, he hoped that his mask hadn’t shattered as the vengeful spirits consumed him. In some strange way he felt it might have kept his pitifully fragile soul from complete destruction.
However, it appeared that his God did not share similar feelings about the matter.

“Is it not better?” Wu Ming hesitantly asked again.

“No, of course it isn’t, Wu Ming. Why would it be better?”

The last thing the ghost wanted to do was distress the man who had been so good to him.

“You’ve seen my eye now haven’t you? Surely you understand why it’s better covered. Besides, in the the past-”

“No, I don't understand.” Xie Lian’s words were soft yet firm in the way only he seemed to be able to command, “I do not find your eye unsightly, or- or dangerous or whatever it is you’re thinking. You don’t need to hide yourself from me. That is the last thing I want.”

His highness’s words seemed to wobble at the end of his speech and Wu Ming’s stomach sank. He really had messed up, hadn’t he?

“This one apologizes, Dianxia. It wasn’t my intention to upset you.” Wu Ming’s head fell forward slightly. Thick heavy shame worked its way through his veins.

Xie Lian’s own panic was cut through by the image of his love, once again, standing small in front of him. With a calming breath he stepped forward to place a light hand on the ghost’s upper arm.

“It’s not about me being upset. I’m not upset, not really. At least,” He paused. “I’m not upset with you. I could never be.”

He rubbed his thumb in rhythmic patterns against the black fabric of his robes. Even through the cloth, Wu Ming could feel his heat.

“I will take it off if you wish.”

“I don’t want you to do anything you don’t want to, Wu Ming. If you want to wear it, if it makes you feel better here, I want you to. I just don’t want you to wear it on my account. I don’t want you to think I expect it of you.” Xie Lian insisted.

Truthfully, Wu Ming’s mind was beginning to be reduced to jelly at the feeling of his God’s gentle touch. His arm was alight in nerves he hadn’t felt since his death. He supposed he should have a response for Xie Lian’s words, yet none came.

Was it dramatic to say his hand had already begun to chase away the worry from his mind? It probably was. If he voiced that he was sure he’d sound like a helpless idiot, though he found that’s what he often felt like in the face of the Crown Prince of Xianle.
Still, he had to respond when Dianxia was staring at him with those burning honey eyes.

“I can leave it in the room if Dianxia wishes.” His voice sounded much smaller than intended, but he had nothing to worry about. Not if Xie Lian was promising it would be alright. He didn’t exactly feel comfortable without it, but he was with his God. Xie Lian would be right there, no one would dare make a comment about his appearance with him by his side. At least, he hoped. And Dianxia said that it didn’t bother him, who was he to question his word?

“Are you sure?” His God, always thinking of others, still looked up at him with obvious worry.

“I am, your highness. I promise.”

Wu Ming slowly lifted the mask from his face. Admittedly, he watched Xie Lian’s face with a careful eye. If Dianxia showed even a hint of discomfort he would put on his covering immediately.

Xie Lian just beamed back at him.

Once again Wu Ming was grateful for the inability to blush. He looked away with a speed that he did not intend and cursed himself internally. How obvious was it that if he had a beating heart it would be pounding in his chest?

Silence stretched between them somewhat uncomfortably. Xie Lian hadn’t wished to upset him, only to let him know that he didn’t need to conceal his face constantly. Somehow Xie Lian once again said the wrong thing and had only ended up making the other man feel worse.

He bit his lip, lost in thought. He had to do something.

“That’s it!” Xie Lian suddenly exclaimed, clapping his hands together. It somewhat startled Wu Ming, but he quickly recovered to look at his God who now wore unconcealed excitement.

Regardless of any awkwardness the pair was experiencing at the moment, there was still so much Xie Lian wanted to show him. Hua Cheng may have always played it modest when it came to the immense city he had built around him, but Xie lian knew that at least some part of him must swell with pride at the visual manifestation of all his work. He figured Wu Ming would at the very least enjoy getting out of their bedroom.

“Do you want to see the grounds now? Or perhaps the Ghost City? It really is a sight, Wu Ming. I’m sure you’ll love it.”

Wu Ming gave a swift nod. “En, I’d be honored to see anything Dianxia wishes to show me.”

Without thinking a second longer, Xie Lian grabbed the ghost’s hand and pulled him out the door.

Wu Ming knew.

He knew his God would never lie to him or intentionally harm him. But something about this didn’t add up. Something was missing. Was Xie Lian keeping something from him? If he was, Wu Ming prayed that it wasn’t something the ghost had done to fail him. He had a feeling it was, though. Dianxia claimed they were friends, but Wu Ming knew himself.

As Xie Lian ushered him down the halls of Paradise Manor, Wu Ming knew the ways in which his desperate heart wanted. He would never do anything to overstep, but had he really managed to keep his feelings for his God hidden for so long? Could he really have gotten that close to him? Close enough that Dianxia allowed him to sleep in his bed without his pathetic feelings betraying him?

He didn’t think he had ever been so close to Xie Lian physically for this long, and even now it was making his thoughts swim and blur. Had he really had the strength to hold himself together enough to be a good friend to the other man? How desperately he wanted to be the version of himself that had somehow been someone trusted to Dianxia.

Maybe Xie Lian had found out his feelings and simply turned him down gracefully, that seemed more likely. Or maybe he had been slowly trying to push Wu Ming away as to not damage his pride. Xie Lian would be kind like that, wouldn’t he? Calling on him less and less until a nameless ghost he had once known was nothing more than an ally on reserve.

Hardly ever needed.

That is, until Wu Ming had gone and gotten his memories erased and become a burden all over again. Xie Lian would never leave him alone, he was far too gracious, even if Wu Ming had become a nuisance.

Worries swirled in his mind as the two walked, but it’s not like he could voice them Xie Lian. He knew he would be fed kindness and platitudes.

Too sweet to tell him the truth. It was a double edged blade, was it not?

Chapter Text

The Ghost City was abuzz with activity in ways it usually was. Crowds contracted and expanded around the curves of the marketplace as shopkeepers barked out sales. Glowing red lanterns hung like tiny fires against the perpetual evening. No matter the time of day, the Ghost City always reminded Xie Lian of a lively summer festival at the peak of dusk.

Well, a summer festival may be a bit of a sanitized way to describe the city. For what standard festival had ghosts and cursed beings alike mingling as if only natural? The streets might be able to pass as just a particularly rowdy town at first glance, but it would be difficult to overlook the inherent supernatural elements of the crowd on a closer look. Creatures Xie Lian couldn’t even begin to guess the origin of even in his many many years of experience filled both the streets and shops.

Scents repulsive and inviting lay in the air and swirled around the street’s inhabitants like an old friend greeting them all. Shouts came from all directions, some in Xie Lian’s native tongue, others reflecting sounds he couldn’t be sure were languages at all. The bright copper tones of string instruments mixed in with the cacophony lazily. When passing by a particularly lively parlor, the heavy beat of deep drums joined the mix as well. Somehow all of the noise seemed to hold a melody of its own, fitting together in a way that was almost beautiful. If there was one thing to be said about the Ghost City, it certainly wouldn’t be that it was quiet.

Despite the chaos (or possibly because of it) Xie Lian loved the city in all of its imperfections. It made him feel safe, the ghosts, the friendly faces eager to call out his name and supply him with (most likely questionable) food. The irony of feeling safe in the Ghost City of all places was not lost on Xie Lian, of course. Feng Xin and Mu Qing still bristled anytime Xie Lian mentioned visiting it alone. But through and through it was something of Hua Cheng. His empire, his proof of his accomplishments. If the amount of red and black was anything to show for it, the city felt like a culmination of his ruthlessness and playfulness alike.

However much Xie Lian enjoyed walks through the city, he worried a bit that the bustling environment may be a bit much for Wu Ming. As the two walked through the streets together, Xie Lian kept a watchful eye on his companion for any signs of stress.

Wu Ming was hardly relaxed, but it seemed like nothing more than the normal tenseness he seemed to carry himself with. Xie Lian had hoped Wu Ming would simply let himself enjoy the atmosphere, but he knew that the other would be on constant lookout for threat. Ever the dutiful soldier, his top priority was his God’s safety.

This didn’t surprise Xie Lian. From time to time he still caught Hua Cheng scanning the waves of people for possible danger when he thought the God wasn’t looking. Whenever he was caught, Hua Cheng would always try to play it off as a theatrical stretch or that a particularly interesting shop had caught his eye. Of course, they both knew Xie Lian wasn’t fooled. Still, Xie Lian would always play along and slip his hand into his husband’s with a soft laugh. Hua Cheng always had a bright smile to return.

In present, Xie Lian wondered if Wu Ming would allow him to lace their hands together like Hua Cheng did. More accurately Xie Lian wondered if Wu Ming would allow himself to hold his God’s hand. He was about to suggest it when he noticed the ghost staring wide eyed at a large building.

Fondness spread through him like a cool stream. The gambling hall, of course. He couldn’t help but watch as the Wu Ming gazed upon the imposing silhouette of the hall with barely concealed awe. It cut quite a striking image. He also couldn’t help but giggle slightly when Wu Ming’s eyes landed on the many practically unreadable banners Hua Cheng had written in his twisting scrawl.

A slight frown appeared on the ghost’s face as he contemplated whether or not he had written them or if someone else in the Ghost City had been found with equally unpleasing handwriting. If they had, that’d be quite the accomplishment.

Still, the idea of a gambling hall did make Wu Ming a bit excited. He had never really been to one before. It’s not like he had that kind of money to waste back when he was alive, and his time spent in death had been in service of Dianxia. That isn’t to say he had never gambled before, he had won (and lost) his fair share of various games of chance and skill out on the streets of Xianle

Sometimes he even managed to pull in enough money to buy himself a hearty bao from one of his favorite vendors. Very few of them would even take his money on the rare occasion he had it, but there had been one that did. The old man who ran the stand would tell him about his granddaughter, and his days in the western nation he had been born in before he came to Xianle with his late wife for a better life. As a child Wu Ming had found his long-winded stories a bit boring, but he appreciated the fact the clearly lonely man didn’t immediately chase him off when he approached. Looking back on it now, he might have even been happy to see the child.

Of course, that was until he had ruined it all.

On the days he didn’t have a win from gambling and wasn't able to slip something from his father’s pocket to try and buy his dinner, he had a habit of simply taking the bao regardless. As a child he had taken the old man for somewhat senile, and he never seemed to notice Hong’er’s presence unless he announced himself. At least he didn’t until one day when the child’s dirt caked hands reached up to snatch the meal his wrist was caught by the elder with surprising speed.

After that the old man no longer took Hong’er’s money. The boy continued to steal from him, bitter and angry having been proved in his distrust of adults once more. In the later years, the man would even chase him off with a broom whenever he was too loud in his approach.

Hong’er knew it was inevitable that the man would come to view him the same way as the rest of the town did. Still, that first instance of rejection had burned something deep in his chest that he had been surprised to have after all his years of exclusion. That night he had curled into his place on the side of his father’s house and felt damp tears run down his cheeks. He should have known better. That’s how it always ended.

Soon enough, he had become fairly skilled at most street games, and without anyone who would sell to him, Hong’er began to acquire a modest pile of coins that he kept stashed underneath a rock lining the house near where he slept. That too had been a stupid mistake. He was never sure if it had been his father who found the money or some of the other neighborhood kids, but one day he returned to find the money gone and the rock shattered.

After that, the drunk useless men he had been playing against began to reject his offers at another go. They had realized that Hong’er was far too good at playing to be taken advantage of and quickly lost interest. The other children had long since stopped betting against him, so once again the hope Hong’er had began to dry up in front of his eyes.

His love for games never fully left him, Wu Ming supposed, but he hadn’t really had the chance to play with anyone since. There was a brief time when with Xianle’s army some of the other soldiers tried to coax him into a round of cards, but he couldn’t stand the mindless squawking and found himself too irritated to speak with them let alone play a round.

Yes, it had been so long since Wu Ming indulged that trivial competitiveness within him. Somewhat childishly he wondered if he could impress his God by winning a few hands of cards.

As if something like that would ever entertain him.

“Do you want to go in, Wu Ming?” Xie Lian asked beside him.

“Pay me no mind, your highness. I would never force you to go into an establishment such as that.” He felt a curl of disgust on his lips at subjecting Dianxia to the no doubt miscreant occupants of the parlor.

“You’re not forcing me to do anything. I have been in there more than a few times, you know. Though I can’t say I’ve ever been very good.”

Wu Ming’s eyebrows raised slightly. Xie Lian couldn’t quite see his right eye, the ghost had agreed to come out without his mask, but had spent no small share of time trying to make his hair fall to cover the red eye.

“Are you sure, Dianxia? This one was only looking, I don’t need to go in.”

“Nope, now you’ve put the idea in my head.” Xie Lian said with a grin as he pushed Wu Ming up to the entrance. “Come now, let’s go get a good seat!”

Minutes later, Xie Lian stood behind Wu Ming beaming as the ghost perched on a stool, neck deep into a tense round of a game Xie Lian didn’t quite understand but the ghost seemed to be well acquainted with.

He loved seeing his husband like this. Despite his lack of memories he easily fell into his usual confidence when it came to gambling. His shoulder's seemed broader than they had outside, the black set of robes Xie Lian had given him were fine and looked almost royal with his posture despite their simplicity. His inky hair shined in a soft warm glow in the dim lights of the parlor. His eyes were sharp as he gazed out at the others at the table. It was a small round, only a nervous looking human who was clearly realizing he was in well over his head and a bubbling mass of a swamp spirit played against Wu Ming.

To Xie Lian’s relief, the gambling hall was packed and everyone was too absorbed in their own game to pay too much attention to them. If the others at the table realized that they were playing against the Lord Crimson Rain himself they made no indication of it. Xie Lian knew that once Hua Cheng came back to memories he wouldn’t be pleased at the thought of people having seen him in this form, but Xie Lian wasn’t about to keep Wu Ming locked away inside the Paradise Manor like some sort of shameful secret. Because he wasn’t that, he was amazing.

Xie Lian’s heart swelled with pride as Wu Ming pushed one of his chips into place. Once again, the God wasn’t quite sure what it meant but from the groans of frustration his opponents let out it was clear it had been a good move. Their sounds of distress seemed to bounce off the ghost, though. A weaker player may have gotten cocky at this point. It was clear he was winning even without Hua Chengzu’s characteristic ungodly luck.

Wu Ming didn’t let it phase him, he remained as still and collected as he had been when he first sat down. Almost as if he didn’t even realize how greatly he was winning, though Xie Lian knew his clever husband was well aware. Oh well, Xie Lian would look happy enough for the both of them.

In all honesty, the pride was going to Wu Ming’s head a bit. Not because of the stupid game, though he was glad he was winning, but because Dianxia was there to watch him.

Was he having a good time? Had his highness watched the version of Wu Ming he was friends with gamble before? Was he doing worse than he normally did? Wu Ming hoped that his pathetic self had at minimum improved a bit in the centuries he was without his God.

What if Xie Lian was bored? He was standing behind him so he couldn’t see his face. Would the God watch if it really was that dull? Wouldn’t he go find a table himself? God, what if he found the whole thing tiresome and was too polite to excuse himself to do something else?

Wu Ming felt his mind begin to slip into the usual pattern of unease and insecurity, but now was not the time. He mustn't think about it if he wanted to win this game. As they entered the gambling parlor Xie Lian had assured him that he didn’t mind. He had to trust that.

He had to trust that, but… it wouldn’t hurt if he wrapped up this game as soon as possible.

He glanced over at the human slyly. He was sweating and looked down at the board in despair. Wu Ming wouldn’t be surprised if he had been here for more than a few days. Wu Ming knew admittedly little about the Ghost City, but from what he had gathered it wasn’t a place that the living came to unless they were something beyond desperate.

To his right sat the gurgling mess that was a swamp spirit. It gave off an odor of slight rot and Wu Ming cursed it internally for subjecting Dianxia to its stench. While neither of the other players even rivaled his skill level, it was the swamp spirit that Wu Ming knew would give him the most trouble when he began to line up his play for the final strike.

He thought that the creature may not notice the chain of moves Wu Ming was trying to make, even the most seasoned players back in Xianle missed this one most of the time. However, underestimating one’s opponents was the biggest mistake you could make in games like these. It was a mistake he had exploited many times in his youth to his advantage, but he would be damned again before he made it himself.

He could go in aggressively and pray for the best, but he knew that giving himself a layer of cover was the smartest move. A decoy.

A much needed decoy, as it turns out. Because as soon as he set up his trap the swamp spirit tried to corner him and called his bluff on it. Wu Ming feigned loss, acting as if his plan had been discovered.

Emboldened by Wu Ming’s apparent slip up, the man and spirits moves became more aggressive, sloppy. They thought they had a chance. What a bunch of imbeciles.

In two more turns Wu Ming had won.

As soon as the game was clear to be over the spirit stormed off while the man clutched his head in despair. Wu Ming couldn’t be bothered to pay them any mind though, because as soon as the ghost turned around his God was flinging himself into his arms with joy.

“You did it! That was amazing, San Lang. You were so cool!” Xie Lian grinned against his chest.

Wu Ming felt as if he could die anew.

“It was nothing, your highness. Pure luck. Most likely from having someone as esteemed as you on my side.”

Xie Lian pulled his head up to give Wu Ming yet another brilliantly wide smile.

“No, I think it’s quite the opposite really.”

Some time later, the two walked noticeably closer down the ever boisterous streets of the Ghost City. After spending so long in the gambling parlor, the crisp air was a nice reprieve. Wu Ming had played another game at Xie Lian’s insistence, and won easily once more.

Xie Lian was pointing out the many shops to Wu Ming with a bounce in his step that the ghost adored. He loved seeing his God so happy. How long had it been? How long did it take for his God to find the simple pleasure he deserved once more? The Dianxia Wu Ming last remembered had been cold and terrified and so so angry. When had the bitterness melted away like spring frost to reveal the gracious prince Xie Lian had started as?

Wu Ming hoped he had been around to see it. The more time they spent together the more time he began to feel that small thread of hope weaving itself in his chest. It was a foolish thing really, but he was beginning to think that maybe they were really friends after all. Could Dianxia really look at him with such fondness if not? If Wu Ming was being even more foolish he could almost say Dianxia’s looks might even reflect affection. He was not that imprudent, though.

“Dianxia,” He started as the two began to make their way out of the city and back towards the manor.

Instantly his God’s full attention was on him, those burning eyes waiting for him to continue.

“If you don’t mind me asking, earlier you called me ‘San Lang’... You said it before too, when I first woke up. Who is that?”

Wu Ming figured he must have mistaken him for someone else. Unless…

“Oh! That’s you of course. Well, I guess it was what I called you before you lost your memories. You asked me to call you San Lang when we first met again, and it really stuck. I like it quite a lot. Sorry for slipping up.”

It was Wu Ming’s turn to offer panicked reassurances.

“No, I don’t mind it at all, your highness. You can call this one whatever you’d like.”

Xie Lian frowned a bit at this.

“I’ve spent far too long just calling you ‘whatever I’d like’” Xie Lian said firmly. “What do you want me to call you?”

Wu Ming paused. It’s true that Wu Ming had been a cruel name at first, but he had grown rather accustomed to it. Besides, he wasn’t exactly “San Lang” yet, was he? He didn’t have the memories that went along with that name. He didn’t know if that name came with the casualness the deepest parts of his heart desired with Dianxia or something different. He tried his best to imagine the version of himself that Dianxia might have known just a day earlier. He tried to imagine his face, laughing along with his God, responding to that nickname that slipped easily from Xie Lian’s lips. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t see it.

“I think I’d prefer Wu Ming for now, if that is alright.”

Xie Lian gave him a small smile.

“Of course, Wu Ming.” He paused as if considering something, “I know it’s been a long day and you’re probably exhausted, but what do you say to a stroll in one of the gardens before we turn in?”

_______

As the two walked through the grounds conversation flowed between them easily much like it usually did, though maybe with a bit less commentary from the deceased half of the pair than usual. Xie Lian’s face held an open gentleness as he told the black-clad ghost an old folk tale he had heard in the north about a particular breed of lush pink flower adorning their path. Hua Cheng likely would have heard this tale by now. It’s possible that it was from him he heard it first, Xie Lian couldn’t quite remember.

It was quite a simple story really, a young maiden waiting for her warrior to return from war had begun to fashion pink paper flowers from lantern paper in his absence. Every day she would fold a new blooming treasure and wish for her beloved’s return. He was gone many months, and she had made hundreds. One day, news came from the front lines. It was not the kind of news you want to hear when your special someone is off at war.

In her grief, the maiden ripped apart her delicate paper flowers. Wailing into the night, she threw the pieces out into her garden. The next day, the young maiden awoke and ached only to see the rich brown of her love’s eyes once more. With a heavy heart she returned to the garden to collect what she could of her paper scraps, regretting having destroyed them the night before. Yet when she gazed upon her garden she did not find the remenits of her love, but a field of flourishing pale pink blossoms. Even more, each of the sweet smelling flowers were open to reveal a brown center the color of deep hongmu. The color of her lost love’s eyes. The maiden sunk to the ground in shock and wept tears of both grief and joy. For she knew that even if they could never wed, her love would never truly leave her.

Xie Lian loved the story, even for all its melodrama. He wondered if such an event actually came to pass, but he supposed it didn’t really matter. The story had stuck and the flowers had become a symbol of love beyond death. He chuckled a bit at the thought of his husband intentionally choosing to fill a garden within Ghost City with these. He could only imagine Hua Cheng’s hope that Xie Lian would be able to see them one day.

Warmth spread in his chest, along with a slight ache. He wished he could tell him how sweet he found the gesture, no matter how cliché. He wished he would have told him sooner. He cherished this time with Wu Ming, truly, but as the day wore on he found he missed his husband.

Shaking the thought from his mind, Xie Lian returned to idly rambling about the garden. He looked over at Wu Ming, who was dutifully keeping stride beside him. Xie Lian was grateful the ghost had trusted him enough to fshed his mask. Xie Lian loved seeing the slight changes in his face as he listened to the other man’s stories. No matter how dull others might find it, Wu Ming remained engaged in even his simplest of thoughts in ways that would endlessly surprise the God.

An easy smile lay on his lips, and his mismatched eyes shined with interest. As he often was, Xie Lian was suddenly hit with a breathless feeling of awe gazing at the man.

Xie Lian must have been staring for too long, because Wu Ming’s eyes met his and his smile quickly shifted into something more bashful and unsure than content.

Xie Lian was really beginning to enjoy how expressive Wu Ming was. Hua Cheng always tried to hold an air of mystery around him. While Xie had learned to read him as simply as taking a breath, he knew that the ghost king preferred to keep most of his true emotions locked deep within his chest. His face remained a consciously held blanket of authority and confidence around strangers. He was more open around Xie Lian, of course. But the God couldn’t help but wish he was able to fluster his husband the way he did him more often.

Wu Ming had no such problem. In fact, it seemed like almost anything Xie Lian said was enough to send him into a storm of nerves, both good and bad. Xie Lian supposed he shouldn’t enjoy teasing a man who trusted him so much, but how could he help it when Wu Ming was reactive in ways the Crimson Rain Sought Flower rarely was?

So, could he really be blamed when he once again delighted over the way the other man squirmed under his attention?

“Wu Ming?”

“Yes, your highness?” His lips turned upward slightly at Xie Lian’s acknowledgement. Once again, the God felt his heart flip.

“I was thinking, did you perhaps want to know what you called me before you lost your memories?” Xie Lian did his best to hide the growing excitement in his tone.

“I assume I called you Dianxia as is proper.” His brows furrowed. “Did I not?”

Xie Lian grinned and knocked his shoulder lightly against Wu Ming as they walked.

“Nope.”

“Then… if I may ask, what did this one call you?”

“Gege.”

Wu Ming stopped dead in his tracks and stared at Xie Lian bewildered. He would never do anything to cause any serious undue stress to his love in this state, but it would be a lie to say he didn’t love the look on his face just a little bit. If the ghost could truly blush, he would most certainly be aflame at the moment.

“What?” Wu Ming sputtered. “That’s impossible. I- I could never have!”

“You think I would mislead you about something like this?”

Xie Lian’s feigned innocent tone was lost on an overwhelmed Wu Ming.

“No! Of course not. I believe you, it's just that…” He looked off to the side, unable to meet the other’s eyes. “I couldn’t have been that… familiar, right?”

“You were.”

Xie Lian finally paused to really look at the other man. He was clearly flustered, but nothing too serious. He was still here, and hadn’t run off like Xie Lian had so many times before they could admit their feelings for each other. Maybe he could push it a bit more.

“Do you… want to try it out now?”

Wu Ming immediately stiffened. Ok, maybe Xie Lian took it too far.

Xie Lian was about to call the whole thing off, assure his companion that he had only been joking and that he understood if being so familiar was a lot given everything going on. He was about to place a steady hand on Wu Ming’s upper arm in reassurance when he heard a small sound from the other man that almost sounded like,

“Gege.”

His body was still rigid, almost comically so. He aimed an intense glare at the ground in concentration that in no way matched the wavering of his voice. Xie Lian couldn’t help but let out a soft gasp. A gasp Wu Ming immediately mistook for disapproval and began to shrink in on himself.

“No, no! That was perfect, Wu Ming!” Xie Lian waved his hands frantically, now blushing like a teenager. “Thank you for humoring me.”

How quickly his husband was able to turn the tables, even when he wasn’t doing it on purpose. One word and Xie Lian’s face was steaming as always. How ridiculous.

Peels of laughter came from the beet red God. No matter what, his husband really was himself, wasn’t he? Trying so hard to appease Xie Lian’s stupid whims no matter how much effort it took.

Wu Ming didn’t seem to understand his God’s laughter, not fully. But he quickly began to join in. Childlike giggles bubbled between them. There they stood in a garden of love made material. Planted by a devoted follower for his one true God, seen many times as husbands and equals, now something different. Something fragile and awkward. Two beings desperate to love and comfort one another, but not quite sure how to do it. Not quite yet.

Xie Lian felt it beautiful all the same.

Chapter Text

Light filtered in the open windows of the modest entertaining parlor. Compared to the vibrant reds and smoke kissed browns that filled the rest of Paradise Manor, the room Xie Lian was currently sitting in was rather plain.

Various weapons and scrolls adorned the walls, as well as a few rich green plants. But other than the low table and shelf brimming with ink and paper in the corner, the space was rather bare. White fabric draped lazily from across the ceiling in a way that was most definitely intentional, but came off as natural as the light that filled the room. Xie Lian wasn’t quite sure how the room always retained the feel of waking to a crisp morning, no doubt it was purposely designed that way by his husband.

A few months ago, Hua Cheng had worked himself into a bit of a panic over whether or not the interior of Paradise Manor was to Xie Lian’s taste.

“I don’t want you to feel like you’re just visiting, Gege. This is your home too,” the ghost had insisted.

Xie Lian of course reassured him that it never felt that way. Xie Lian loved Paradise Manor, sure the decoration was lavish, but it was always beautiful to him. Besides, it wasn’t about what the place looked like, he knew how welcome he was. He knew it was his home just as much as it was Hua Cheng’s. He knew that the other barely even thought of it as a home until Xie Lian came barreling into it.

Still, Hua Cheng got it in his head that the God should have a room completely done according to his own tastes. Well, the ghost had wanted to give him much more than just a room. He had at first tried to have a whole new addition added on to the grand manor, built from scratch under Xie Lian’s supervision.

“Really San Lang,” Xie Lian had said, waving his hands. Even after so long his husband’s doting still flustered him at times. “You don’t need to go through all the trouble for me. I already have the armory, don’t I? That is more than enough.”

Hua Cheng had simply huffed slightly and leaned his arm on the table to inspect the plans he had drawn up for the hypothetical new wing. It gave off the air of pouting slightly, intentional or otherwise. Xie Lian remembered the way his hair slipped off his shoulder like water, the silky black pieces falling around his face like a veil as he stared at the scrolls with intense concentration.

“You’re right, Gege. Should the extension come off of the armory instead?”

Xie Lian had pushed his husband’s hair back with a soft chuckle. The ghost’s pale skin almost seemed pearlescent in the dim light. Xie Lian had wondered how he could even see whatever he had drafted up.

“No, that’s not what I mean. I have plenty. This is my home, and I think the colors are lovely.”

He had turned his husband’s face away from where he was glaring a hole in the wood, and oh how he relished the way Hua Cheng’s expression immediately softened when his gaze met Xie Lian’s.

Ultimately, Hua Cheng had insisted he do something for Xie Lian, and the God had figured it best to just go along with it. He had learned ages ago how stubborn his love could be, and knew once he got certain ideas in his head there was little Xie Lian could do to sway him. Besides, the room he had renovated was rather lovely.

Xie Lian had put his foot down and said he didn’t want to make such a big fuss with building a whole new room, so the two had taken a few days to refurbish an unused sitting room into a quiet place for Xie Lian to sit in the mornings or get some light reading done. At first, Hua Cheng had been adamant that he do all the work himself, but Xie Lian could be just as stubborn and the two ended up painting and hauling out furniture together.

Xie Lian was sure there might have been a quicker way to do the whole thing, maybe use a few talismans or get some help from Yin Yu or the ghosts that served at the manor, but he rather enjoyed taking the time to slowly pry up old paneling with his husband.

They had laughed and talked about nothing and simply enjoyed the labor beside each other. It remined him of the days when they had first fallen into each other again, sweeping and cooking in easy silence within the walls of Puqi shrine. Long before Xie Lian realized the lengths his love would go have those moments with him.

Xie Lian was never a particularly skilled builder even without his cursed luck. At least, not compared to Hua Cheng who seemed to create new things as easy as waking. When they finished the room was far from perfect, mainly from Xie Lian’s own contributions. A loose floorboard here, a slightly crooked wall hanging there, and of course the unreadable mess of their signatures in black ink along the trim in the south corner of the room. Xie Lian had insisted that they both sign their work once they finished, much to his husband’s amusement.

His deep black eye had twinkled with mirth as he teased Xie Lian, “It’s not a canvas, Gege. There’s no need to do this.”

With a playful roll of his eyes Xie Lian watched the ghost sign his name and scrawl the date sloppily beneath it regardless.

“Well centuries from now when we’re old and senile and you want to look back on some good memories you’ll thank me.” Xie Lian retorted to his husband once the man had finished.

Xie Lian had felt a thrill run through his stomach at the glint of mischief that flashed in Hua Cheng’s face when he turned to face him. Without warning, the ghost ran forward and swept Xie Lian into his arms, away from the freshly oiled floor that they had spent so long on. Laughing, he had spun the two of them until blood rushed in Xie Lian’s ears and he half heartedly began to squirm to try and place his feet on solid ground again. Naturally, if he really wanted to get down he could have easily, but where was the fun in that?

“I won’t need some stupid wall to remind me. I would never forget a moment with Gege.” Hua Cheng had grinned at him after they both collapsed on the floor breathless. The ground was hard and not very comfortable, but Xie Lian couldn’t imagine wanting to be anywhere else.

“Maybe I will.” Xie Lian had said in mock indignation and turned his head away from the other.

“Oh really?” Hua Cheng suddenly sat up and leaned over him, caging Xie Lian in as he desperately tried not to meet his gaze. The ghosts thick red robes fell on either side of Xie Lian's head, and he ended up staring at one Hua Cheng's arms.

Xie Lian had tried to frown, but he imagined he looked about as intimidating as an angry chick.

“Whatever will this husband do? Completely abandoned by his other half.” Dramatic woe slipped into Hua Cheng’s voice, but he could barely conceal his laughter while hunching lower to press wet kisses into the other man’s exposed neck.

That was about all it took to make Xie Lian break his resolve and fall into giggles alongside him.

“San Lang!” Xie Lian twisted to meet Hua Cheng’s beaming face.

“What?” He had asked innocently. Heavens, he really was good at that puppy dog look, even if Xie Lian knew it was all an act.

“You really are ridiculous.”

Pressing their foreheads together gently, Hua Cheng had simply scoffed.
“Glad I jogged your memory.”

His last response had been barely a whisper before the God pressed their lips together.

Xie Lian couldn’t help but sigh thinking about that day. He looked longingly at their intertwined names from his seat at the small table in the parlor.

Hua Cheng had been gone for over a week now, and while Xie Lian cherished every moment he had with the ghost’s younger self, he couldn’t deny the loneliness beginning to nudge against his mind. Yin Yu’s search had pulled up nothing of note and Ling Wen had yet to contact him with any further developments in the Banyue case. As optimistic as Xie Lian tried to be, he had to admit he doubted that Ling Wen would have any news to share even if she wanted to.

Concern began to creep its way into the God’s mind. What if whatever this was didn’t wear off? What if his husband was stuck like this forever? Could so many years worth of memories be gone, just like that?

Xie Lian knew that Wu Ming was still the man he loved, and if he had to build a thousand new memories of their life together, he would do it.

He would do it over and over again.

If patience and dedication was all it took, Xie Lian was willing to give that and more. But Xie Lian couldn’t help but mourn the thought of losing their first kiss, even in all of its awkwardness. He couldn’t help but feel a pang in his heart over the loss of their reconnection on the ox cart, of their easy mornings in Puqi shrine, of their confessions in the Cave of Ten Thousand Gods. He supposed they could have new firsts, perhaps it even excited him a bit to have a chance to give his love that joy anew.

But most of all he mourned how hard his husband had worked. Hua Cheng tried so hard to build himself into something he could be proud of. Something he felt would be worthy of his God’s love. Xie Lian would gladly give it to any version of the man, he was more than deserving. However, his confidence, his growth, his security, all of that was gone too. Wiped away in an instant.

Xie Lian never quite understood the depths of his husband’s self hatred until he spent more time with Wu Ming. He felt himself so undeserving, so worthless. He approached Xie Lian like his very presence was an inconvenience. Like somehow the other man was doing Wu Ming some great service by even talking to him.

It broke Xie Lian’s heart. His love had worked so hard, they had both worked so hard. Xie Lian was usually not one to mope, but he couldn’t help but be struck by the injustice of some unforeseen force stripping Hua Cheng of everything he had tried so hard to learn to like about himself.

He knew that at this very moment Wu Ming was probably ruminating on his perceived failures, and what could Xie Lian even do to help? Tell him it’s all lies? Xie Lian knew from experience that that truth took much more than being heard to be internalized.

No, Xie Lian had to do something, there had to be a way to restore Hua Cheng’s memories. He refused to believe that much progress could just be lost overnight. So here Xie Lian was, sitting in the parlor with two of his oldest friends slumped forward in exhaustion.

His pristine white robes seemed to hold an air of grief they usually did not given his disposition. Ruoye, clearly sensing his distress, had been much more attached to Xie Lian lately, but Wu Ming as well. Often the spiritual device would slip from Xie Lian’s body on to the other, as if trying to protect him as well. Now, in the face of Feng Xin and Mu Qing, the ribbon maintained somewhat of a relaxed stance against Xie Lian’s wrist.

The two Gods had been eager to visit as Xie Lian had been uncharacteristically distant over the past week. After the final showdown between Xie Lian and Jun Wu and Hua Cheng’s return, the trio had finally begun to truly repair the wounds of their old friendship.

It wasn’t what it once was. Xie Lian doubted it ever would be, nor was he sure he really even wanted it to be the same. The new form their relationship took was certainly different, but it was more open. It was honest in a way it never had been before. They had all seen each other at their lowest.

Xie Lian had been filled with despair and despondent.

Feng Xin had been a coward.

Mu Qing had been cruel.

But they looked at the others now with an understanding that only comes with age and communication. They were no longer the boisterous teenagers they once were, so sure of their own power and so absorbed in their own perceived greatness. The three understood just how far one could fall. They understood just how deep kindness could cut, and perhaps most importantly, they understood how to forgive what used to seem impossible.

They had a long way to go, but old friends had begun to fall into a comfort that surprised them all.

Given all their improvement, Xie Lian couldn’t help but feel a bit guilty about not telling them about Hua Cheng’s condition sooner. He had wanted to, really. It’s just that he knew his husband would very much dislike them knowing about it if not completely necessary. He knew how touchy the ghost could be about them still despite Xie Lian’s insistence that their relationship was on the mend.

Let it never be said that Hua Cheng couldn’t hold a grudge, especially when it was on Xie Lian’s behalf.

After explaining the full situation to them over freshly brewed tea, Mu Qing was unusually without comment as Feng Xin drilled Xie Lian with questions.

“And you think this has something to do with that spirit in Banyue?” The man asked, eyebrows knitted in confusion. His broad shoulders and unnecessarily bulky armor looked rather comical as he perched himself on a pillow at the table. If the situation wasn’t what it was, Xie Lian had no doubts Mu Qing would be admonishing him for over-dressing.

“I did… but now? I’m not so sure. Like I said, every route we’ve looked into has been a dead end.”

“Hm, and you’re sure that bastard isn’t doing this on purpose? Like some sort of sick ploy for attention?” Feng Xin set the tea cup in his hands down with a clunk.

Xie Lian felt more than a bit peeved at that suggestion, and was about to rebuke Feng Xin’s claim when Mu Qing suddenly spoke for the first time since Xie Lian began to talk.

“As much as I think Crimson Rain’s a glutton for his highness’s attention, I don’t think he’d be so heartless as to worry him this much to get it.” Mu Qing snapped.

In contrast to Feng Xin, the man who sat next to him with an almost delicate refined poise. At first glance, the black haired general wouldn’t be hard to mistake for some pampered emperor’s son who fell head first into status. However one second against Mu Qing’s sharp tongue or blade would quickly demonstrate exactly how hard he worked to obtain the position he currently held.

“Well then what do you think it is if you’re so smart, asshole?”

Feng Xin’s sneer had no real bite to it.

The pair still bickered much like they used to, but Xie Lian noted the novel lack of real vitriol to it as of late. He supposed that Mu Qing finally opening up to Xie Lian about his feelings had spread to his relationship with his historic rival as well. Xie Lian had come to realize that they clearly enjoyed the arguing, at least a little bit. He wondered what had been said in private between them, but he knew there was a harmony between the two Gods that even Xie Lian would never be able to fully understand.

As much as they could never stand each other, they had always seemed closer with one another than with Xie Lian, even in their younger years.

Mu Qing flipped his hair in annoyance, “If you would let me get to it you idiot, I actually do.” With a pointed glare in Feng Xin’s direction he crossed his arms. “I’ll try to dumb it down as much as possible for you.”

Well, maybe closer wasn’t exactly the right word.

“You know what happened to San Lang?” Xie Lian couldn’t help the spark of hope that flared in his chest.

“Not exactly, but I don’t think it has anything to do with the incident in Banyue. At least not directly.”

“Oh would you get on with it? If you don’t know, don't do this whole big build up.” Feng Xin grumbled.

“I’m getting to it!”

Xie Lian couldn’t help but notice the half mumbled “Dick” under Mu Qing’s breath.

“Look, you said you both were exhausted after all that shit out in the desert, right?” Mu Qing turned his attention to Xie Lian.

“That’s right. We didn’t really say much when we got back. Honestly I barely had the energy to change out of my dirty robes.”

“So you went straight to bed?”

“After Hua Cheng made us some tea, yes. We pretty much drank in silence. Nothing was out of the ordinary, we were just tired.”

“So you’d say you were pretty distracted? Even Crimson Rain?” Mu Qing leaned forward slightly. What was he getting at?

“I suppose so. I mean, San Lang was much more awake than I was, but he definitely was feeling the trip too.”

His husband never did do well with heat.

Whatever it was Mu Qing was thinking, it seemed to dawn on Feng Xin all at once as he gasped slightly and sat up straighter.

“You don’t think…?” He looked over at the man next him in disbelief.

“Yes, I think it’s entirely possible.” Mu Qing said with a satisfied nod.

Xie Lian normally was fairly patient, but he couldn’t help but feel frustration over his companion’s vagueness build up.

“Mu Qing. Explain.”

It ended up being Feng Xin who answered him fully,

“I apologize, your highness. You see, a while back Mu Qing and I were sent to investigate this tiny little village in the southeast. Just on the edge of my territory. It was really a shell of a place to be honest. I think it used to be a fishing town, but by the time we got there it was mostly ruin and suspicious neighbors. They’d been having a lot of problems lately, understand? People just kept dropping dead. Seemingly out of nowhere and without reason.”

“Normally we wouldn’t investigate that sort of thing.” Mu Qing interjected. “I mean, small town falling apart and a bunch of old timers dropping dead’s hardly shocking. But then it started spreading to the neighboring villages.”

“It was climbing north, and it seemed like maybe it was some sort of disease? Either way, more and more people just kept dying. So we went to check it out. We actually saw a few people go. We tried to help, but there wasn’t anything we could do for them. Anyway, it turns out it was all because of this crazy old woman and herb garden. She was this bitter thing, her late husband was a fisherman, and once the lakes dried up, the poor soul just kind of wasted away after that. Never quite the same.”

“At least according to her.” Huffed Mu Qing.

“After his death she became obsessed with spreading her misfortune, and she had always been a bit more in touch with cultivation and the demonic than your common widow. I’m not really sure how she did it, but she managed to grow this herb. Pretty normal looking, honestly could be put in anything and I wouldn’t even bat an eye. Most people wouldn’t.” Feng Xin explained grimly.

“That’s what she bet on. You see, she didn’t just want to make her village suffer, she wanted people to give the damn thing to each other. She sold it to anyone who asked, an undetectable killer. Brand new, an easy way to kill your awful boss or unfaithful spouse that they wouldn’t even be suspicious of because they didn’t know what to look for.”

Xie Lian could feel a pit forming in his stomach.

“And how did it kill them? What… What did the illness look like?” He asked hesitantly.

Mu Qing and Feng Xin exchanged a wary look before the taller of the two continued.

“After eating the herb, even the smallest bit really, they’d forget things. What they did last week, where they left their favorite slippers. But then… it’d get worse. They’d forget years and years of their lives, their partners’ names, their own names. After a few days they’d just drop dead.”

Fear coiled around Xie Lian’s body. If they were implying what he thought they were…

“Usually it was their lungs, or their heart I guess. They would just, forget how to breathe.” Mu Qing was more serious than Xie Lian had seen him in a while. This event had clearly rattled him.

“Their hearts would forget to beat.”

“Feng Xin and I managed to destroy her garden, burned it all down. Turns out she was growing it above her husband’s grave. Somehow she was able to harness his resentment, or maybe her own. We don’t think she’ll be able to grow it anywhere else. Too much anger and hatred tied up in one place, that’s hard to recreate just anywhere.”

Xie Lian set down his own tea cup slowly.

“Did you not catch her?”

He noticed the immediate look of guilt that flashed over the martial Gods’ faces.

“Not exactly. When we finally figured out the connection between her and the deaths by the time we showed up at her shack she was long gone. She took everything, left no trace,” admitted Feng Xin.

Xie Lian bit his lip, “So you think she’s still out there? Selling people what’s left of this herb?”

“It’s entirely possible. We’ve had… reports of an old woman bringing similar deaths into towns across the nations. We haven’t stopped looking for her, but it’s like she’s one step ahead of everyone. She somehow just vanishes before we catch up with her.” He confirmed.

“So, you think someone used this on San Lang?”

With a nod Mu Qing confirmed the once prince’s growing worries.

“You said you two were exhausted after returning from Banyue, right? Normally you’d have to be a fool to try and slip something to someone like that bastard, but if you knew that he was properly distracted? Doesn’t that seem like the perfect opportunity?”

Realization dawned on Xie Lian as he eyed his cup somewhat suspiciously. Almost sensing his suspicion, Ruoye tightened around Xie Lian’s wrist protectively.

“Could it have been the tea?” He wondered.

“With such a small amount needed to be effective and the circumstance it’s conceivable that Crimson Rain wouldn’t have noticed anything off with the drink. I doubt you were with the pot the whole time. Did you step out of the room at all? Someone could have done something then.”

Mu Qing was right, after heating the water Hua Cheng had brought the pot to their room before Xie Lian asked for his help changing out of his robes in the washing room. He had left the cups and glass holder on the table.

Why wouldn’t he? They had never felt unsafe in their home, not with the ghosts around and Yin Yu. Besides, Hua Cheng usually kept at least one silver butterfly out to observe the comings and goings of the manor, but they had been so tired. Is it possible he forgot? If they were so eager to go to bed and be done with the awful ordeal, if they had both been lulled into the promising comfort of home, his husband easily could have let his guard down. Xie Lian knew he certainly had.

“Who would be stupid enough to target Hua Cheng, though?” Feng Xin questioned, although noticeably he glanced at his cup of tea suspiciously as well. “I mean, the son of a bitch is already dead. It’s not like forgetting how to breathe would affect him much. And clearly he still knows how to walk, so its effect wasn’t very potent.”

“He forgot centuries worth of his life, I’d say that’s pretty potent.”

“Mu Qing is right.” Unfortunately, Xie Lian had a few ideas of why someone would target his husband. “If someone wanted to do San Lang harm, impairing his memory would certainly be a good first step. The herb can’t kill him, sure, but you could assume something that strong would at the very least significantly reduce his power.”

Feng Xin sighed as he pinched his nose bridge in frustration. No doubt the God had a headache over the whole situation.

“Alright, so assuming we’re right and someone did slip him the old lady’s plant, and that’s a big assumption.” He started. “If this was all some plot to weaken Crimson Rain, why haven’t they made a move yet? It’s not like they haven’t had the time.”

“That’s true… and if it was in the tea why did it have no effect on you, Xie Lian?” Mu Qing chimed in.

All he could do was shake his head.

“I don’t know, but if there is even a slight chance that we’re correct we need to look into it. Did you two find a cure for the poison in your investigation?”

Xie Lian hated that this set off another round of sheepish looks in his companions.

“No,” Feng Xin fiddled a bit with the front of his robes unable to meet his friend’s eyes. “Truthfully we know very little about how the old crow did it. I’m not sure there even is a way to counteract the effects.”

That earned Feng Xin a slap on the side of his head from the black haired God.

“Don’t tell his highness that, you tactless moron!” Mu Qing hissed before turning to Xie Lian. “We don’t know of any cures yet, but we’ll look. We’ll get the Ling Wen palace involved too. It’s not like we don’t have leads.”

Xie Lian nerves had not been soothed, and the thought of there not being a cure sent a fresh wave of panic surging through him. The thought of someone doing this intentionally was disturbing as well. If this really was an effort to make his husband vulnerable, it was suspicious that the perpetrator hadn’t made any apparent attacks beyond that. How much danger was the ghost in at this very moment?

Despite his worries, Xie Lian was at the very least grateful of his friends’ willingness to help. He knew they weren’t Hua Cheng’s biggest fans, but they knew how much Xie Lian loved him. They knew how much the two needed each other, regardless of their own feelings on the matter.

“Thank you both. You have no idea how much it means to me. San Lang too, even if he can’t say it.” Xie Lian tried to give his best reassuring smile, but no doubt his exhaustion and fear tugged on the edges of his eyes.

It didn’t go unnoticed by his companions.

Mu Qing was never particularly skilled in comforting others, he found it difficult to deal with his own emotions let alone other people’s. Feng Xin was hardly much better, he could offer solutions and try to work around the whole thing practically, but crying had always made him deeply uncomfortable.

Even so, the pair knew they had to say something to try and ease Xie Lian’s mood. It was surprisingly Mu Qing who took the first stab at it.

“He’s going to be alright, your highness. It’d take a lot more than this to keep that bastard down. No doubt he’ll come back bigger and intensely creepier than ever.” The slight shudder of fear that ran through him at the thought was not lost on Xie Lian.

The white-clad God ran his hand through his hair tiredly, “I know that, I do. I have faith in him, and it’s not like I’m alone. I have Wu Ming. And- and I really do love our time together but…”

“You miss your husband.” Yet again, slight annoyance seeped into his friend’s voice, but it was softened by concern. “This is the longest you’ve been apart since his… break, right?”

“I do, and yes it is. I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t hard.” Xie Lian admitted.

With a clamor both Mu Qing and Feng Xin shot up to stand. The God couldn’t help but wonder if they had planned that over communication array or if they were just that intune with one another.

“We’re going to get the bottom of this. We promise.” There was something to be said about Feng Xin’s determination, Xie Lian knew it was the truth.

With a quick farewell and promise on Xie Lian’s part to put the pair in contact with Yin Yu for extra support, the Martial Gods swept out of Paradise Manor with just as much commotion as when they had arrived.

There were still so many variables, so many questions and fears and reasons Xie Lian couldn’t rest. But he knew he had to breathe in, let those wash away, at least for now.

Trying his best to paint on an easy smile he went to wake Wu Ming from his quarters (not that he thought the man had actually slept). After all, the two had a big day planned.

Much like the night of Hua Cheng’s supposed poisoning, Xie Lian’s distraction proved to lead to the God being much less observant than usual. If he hadn’t been so wrapped up in his conversation with the two southern Gods earlier, he might have noticed the black-clad ghost outside the doorway of the room.

He might have noticed Wu Ming, who hearing only the slightest fragment of their conversation and ever-quick to confirm his fears, had misunderstood the context greatly. He was long gone from the door now.

Sure, he might have noticed, but Xie Lian, filled with anxiety, remained ignorant.

Chapter Text

Wu Ming woke in the same room he had been for the past few days, but he still took a moment to brush off initial confusion. Dianxia had been kind enough to set him up in a guest room just down the hall from his own dwelling. Being greedy as he was, he had felt an initial pain of rejection at the thought of not being allowed to remain in Dianxia’s room. Which was horribly presumptuous on his part, and of course out of the question.

Over the past week had grown much more accustomed to the sprawling grounds that made up his God’s home, but Wu Ming couldn’t help but feel an edge of unease when walking the halls alone. He chose to let himself believe that his desire to stay with Xie Lian was simply due to his own insecurity and not just his selfish heart once again lusting after what he couldn’t have.
The room he had been given was far too big, but it was dark and at the very least the black walls and heavy curtains made him feel somewhat protected. The room felt a bit like a well sealed cave shielding him. He wasn’t exactly sure against what, but Wu Ming hadn’t ever quite been able to shake the feeling that something was off.

That worry was hardly the forefront of his mind, though. He adored being able to see Dianxia everyday, especially like this. He was carefree and playful in a way Wu Ming had feared would never return to the once prince after the fall of his kingdom.

But here he was, eyes so quick to light up in joy in spite of Wu Ming’s fears. Frankly the whole thing was surreal. He still wasn’t completely sure that he trusted any of it. The ghost kept waiting to wake up back in the cold empty temple of Yong’an, once again in his expected place as a servant to his God. His beautiful, aching, shattering God. Wu Ming thought of the venom on that Xie Lian’s lips, of the pain in his heart and raging spirits gathering around him. How he prayed that the worst had already passed for his highness.

He prayed that all of this was really happening, that Xie Lian’s days were truly filled with leisurely walks through his own manor, or laughing gently while watching the sunset with a friend. Even more so, Wu Ming hoped that his life genuinely did intertwin his God’s joy somehow.

With every day that passed, he felt more and more like they really could have been friends before he lost his memory. The way Dianxia looked at him, the way he felt so right at his side. Maybe he really had learned to keep his emotions in check and Dianxia was none the wiser.

His heart tripped over itself at the thought being allowed to be such a simple facet of his God’s life. Easy and without purpose other than simple hedonism.

How desperately Wu Ming wanted to believe it, but that gnawing wrongness wouldn’t go away as he approached the parlor he knew Xie Lian liked to take his morning tea.

Last night before parting the pair had agreed to take a bit of a day trip out of Ghost City and to a nearby town known for its natural hot springs. Wu Ming had been a bit resistant to the idea at first, perhaps a lingering impulse to assume most things were dangerous and somehow a trap, but Dianxia had looked so excited at the idea of an outing. Who was Wu Ming to refuse him?

Yes, despite any unease he was determined to make today enjoyable. If not for Dianxia then maybe even for himself. Finding pleasure in his days spent with his God turned out to be easier than he dared imagine.

As he reached the half closed door of the parlor he was about to knock and make his presence known when he heard the unusual sound of multiple voices coming from within.

“ -a lot more than this to keep that bastard down. No doubt he’ll come back bigger and intensely creepier than ever.”

From the open crack he could see the tiniest glimpse of Dianxia and the two others sitting with him. Oh, it was only his idiot servants. He felt the recognizable twinge of anger build in his gut at the sight of them. Dianxia had said when Wu Ming first woke up that the three were now on good terms, but the ghost was hardly willing to excuse them of their offenses that easily.

Dianxia would pardon a snake seconds after it bit him, and probably make an excuse for it as well. Wu Ming never wanted to doubt his God’s judgment, but he knew that he could be more forgiving than most people deserved.

He really was about to end the whole conversation, or at the very least move to sit at Xie Lian’s side imposingly as to let the two of them know not to try anything, but then Dianxia began to speak.

“I know that, I do. I have faith in him, and it’s not like I’m alone. I have Wu Ming. And- and I really do love our time together but…”

As his God trailed off Wu Ming’s stomach twisted.

Then one of those stupid “friends” of Xie Lian finished his sentence for him.

“You miss your husband. This is the longest you’ve been apart since his… break, right?”

Husband.

Dianxia was married.

Wu Ming’s head swam. Had he really heard that right? Dianxia was married? To some man nonetheless? That couldn't be right. It couldn't be, so why isn't his God correcting them?

As he backed from the doorway he couldn’t help the wave of slight nausea that rolled over him accompanied by the feeling of his chest constricting. Wu Ming ran a shaky hand through his hair and tried to calm his racing thoughts.

“I do, and yes it is. I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t hard.” He heard Xie Lian reply somewhere in the back of his mind, but Wu Ming could hardly hear anything besides that awful word echoing through his skull.

Husband.

He was being naïve again, and worse, horribly selfish. Of course Dianxia had a beloved. How could he not? Xie Lian was a spring sun peeking up over a glassy lake, he was a warm meal waiting after a long walk in the cold rain, he was all anyone could want and more. He was strong, and beautiful, and just, and so so good.

Far better than Wu Ming could ever hope to be or even be worthy of having.

Of course Dianxia was already married. Anyone with half of a brain would want him for a husband. Xie Lian deserved it too of course. He deserved to be loved, he deserved to be cherished, he deserved to be held tight and whispered promises of the security Wu Ming knew his God craved.

How stupid he had been to think that someone as perfect as Dianxia hadn’t found that in the years of their separation. Was Wu Ming really that much of a fool to think that he had a chance of filling that role?

Because he had thought it, hadn’t he? He had desperately hoped, beyond all logical thought and reason, that somehow his God’s delicate touches meant more than what they were.

A simple act of kindness. Undeserved comfort because that was always who Xie Lian was, it wasn’t because Wu Ming was somehow special. Wu Ming wasn’t special, but he let himself hope.

God, it was always the hope that got him. Even after so long he hadn’t changed a bit. One breath of air and his heart surged forward to cling on to it like the ugly mangled thing it was. A parasite, a burden, just like his family had always told him.

He hated the way he proved them right over and over again.

It all made sense. How this future version of himself had managed to get so close to Xie Lian, that feeling Wu Ming had had that his God wasn’t telling him something important. Clearly “San Lang” had never acted on his feelings because he knew that his God’s heart already belonged to another.

Xie Lian kept him close because loving something like him wasn’t even a thought. Less than impossible. Maybe Wu Ming really had confessed his devotion to Dianxia at some point and been rejected. Would it be worse to know that Xie Lian had heard his desperate plea for love and simply chosen someone else? He couldn’t really be sure.

Of course Dianxia was married. As Wu Ming walked back to his room on unsteady legs he scanned the gaudy architecture and garish paintings hung along the walls. How could he not have seen it? This place, the Paradise Manor. Hell, even the name wasn’t to Dianxia’s tastes. Of course it hadn’t been Xie Lian who designed it. It must have been the husband.

Wu Ming seemed to be abruptly pulled out of his own self pity at the thought of Dianxia’s mysterious “husband” and fell quickly into anger.

Where was he?

Clearly Dianxia missed him, even when his God was doing his best to entertain him the slight sadness in his eyes couldn’t be missed. Was he really so heartless as to leave the God just sat here waiting for his return? Did he expect Xie Lian to entertain himself by babysitting Wu Ming?

With a click the door slid shut behind Wu Ming and moved to sit irritably on the edge of his bed. He forced his body to exhale if only to try and release some of the pressure building in his chest.

Where the hell was this supposed husband? He couldn’t honestly think himself so important as to just abandon Dianxia when the other so clearly needed him. Wu Ming hated it, hated the fact he could tell just how deeply Xie Lian craved his beloved presence.

And that fucking asshole didn’t even have the decency to show up. From the way the idiot Gods were talking, it sounded as if he had been gone a while. What was Wu Ming going to do?

A soft knocking on his door broke the storm building inside the young ghost’s head.

“Wu Ming?” Dianxia’s silk-smooth voice called from the hallway.

Wu Ming had to keep it together, Dianxia had wanted a nice day out, and the ghost fully intended to give it to him. No matter what he felt about the situation, his God must have had a reason for not telling Wu Ming about his marital status, so it wasn’t his place to ask.

He did his best to gather his composure and stepped out into the open hall, almost bumping his chest into Xie Lian as he did.

“Oh! I’m sorry, Wu Ming.” Xie Lian exclaimed in surprise. He looked a bit off as well.

“No apologies needed, Dianxia. This one is ready to depart if you are.” Wu Ming couldn’t help but feel a spark of pride at how devoid of the emotion he was drowning in his voice was.

Xie Lian blinked up at him, slightly confused. The young ghost looked ready, he thought. He was wearing the thick black robes that Xie Lian had insisted he buy for him in the market the other day. They were a finer quality than Wu Ming ever remembered having worn before, tapering slightly at the waist and adorned with spiraling red embroidery along the cuffs of its sleeves.

When Xie Lian had presented the gift to him he had to fight the urge to reject it without thinking. He doubted he could be comfortable in something so fine but now that he had it on he had to admit that he did enjoy the way the material felt, cool and yielding against his skin.

With a stab in his chest Wu Ming wondered if Dianxia often chose clothes for his husband as well.

“Alright then, you may want to bring a second outer layer. The springs will be nice but you might get a chill on the walk there.” Xie Lian babbled, suddenly noticing the closeness of their bodies. With an awkward step he shifted out of the way.

Wu Ming took it for uncomfortableness and swiftly moved his body away from the God as well.

“No need. I don’t exactly feel cold anymore, your highness.”

“Ah, I guess you’re right about that.” Xie Lian gave a quiet laugh that could only be seen as forced trying to diffuse a tense situation. As he did, a piece of his dark hair slipped forward out of its half bun, nervously he pushed it back behind his ear and began to talk of their plans for the day.

Wu Ming tried to pay attention to his God’s words, he really did. But all his mind could focus on was the red string that flashed on Xie Lian’s finger as he brushed the strand aside. He had noticed it earlier, the vibrant blood-red bow stark against Dianxia’s skin.

Wu Ming hadn’t been sure what it was and wasn’t exactly sure he’d like the answer if given it, so he hadn’t pressed the matter. Now he wondered if he made the right call.

____

An awkward silence stretched between the two of them like a lazy cat on their walk to the sleepy village. Fat and content and most definitely unwilling to move to spare the pair’s pride, that heavy weight grew between them.

Past the half hour mark in silence, Xie Lian began to wonder if he had done something wrong. So preoccupied with Mu Qing and Feng Xin’s words, could he have possibly missed the signs that Wu Ming didn’t want to take this trip at all? Had he unintentionally coerced the ghost to simply go along with him? The day before when he had brought up the idea he could have sworn he saw that familiar glint of interest in the ghost’s eyes.

Maybe Wu Ming could just sense how on edge Xie Lian was. Perhaps the ghost wasn’t even acting all that strange and Xie Lian was just overthinking things in his hypervigilance. He was able to sympathize with his husband a bit, constantly on the lookout for hidden dangers. Xie Lian doubted that much harm could be done to the ghost at that moment, but that did little to quell the fluttering in his chest.

There was also the matter of disclosing the full nature of their relationship. Xie Lian hadn't wanted to put the pressure of "husband" on Wu Ming right away. He figured he had made the right call as the ghost hadn't even been comfortable with being called San Lang. The last thing he wanted to do was make Wu Ming feel cornered. He knew the ghost loved him, but he wasn't sure how to approach the topic. After spending so many days together he feared he had waited too long to bring it up. He knew he should, but when was the right time?

Would Wu Ming even believe him?

To make matters worse, the grassy path leading to the village wasn’t often traveled so it made for a more difficult journey than expected. Maybe it was simply Xie Lian's mood but the weather seemed harsher than he had anticipated. Cold wind nipped at the God’s face and sent a deep chill that cut through his extra layers. It was still the rainy season, and Xie Lian may have forgotten just how temperamental the weather could be outside of Ghost City. He looked wearily up at the gray overcast sky that threatened to break at any moment. They were quite close to the hot spring village, so much so that Xie Lian could begin to see the peaks of the tiny buildings rising above the horizon. Still, he wondered if it might be best to turn back and try another day.

He was debating bringing the matter up to Wu Ming, but hesitated knowing that if he suggested it the ghost would agree regardless of if he actually wanted to. As usual when Xie Lian got too much in his own head, he failed to notice where his feet were going.

He gasped and suddenly fell forward as his foot landed clumsily on a small stone in the path, sending him flying off balance. Falling towards the ground, Xie Lian chided himself for his carelessness before he felt an arm wrap around his waist to steady him.

“Are you alright, Dianxia?” Wu Ming’s face was filled with concern seemingly unwarranted by the almost-tumble.

“Oh don’t worry about me. Thank you for catching this old fool.”

“You can hold onto my arm if you would like.” He said releasing Xie Lian with the stiffness of an officer.

“That’s very kind of you, Wu Ming. But I should be fine.” He gave him an apologetic smile and did his best to regain his footing. “Come on, we’re almost there.”

The town itself was rather unassuming. The sloped curves, low hanging roofs, and quiet buzz of the elderly and academics that made up most of the population gave the place a languid feel. Soft blues and teals lay against the light wood of most of the homes in old banners or peeling paint. Even on such a drab day, the village retained its ever calm and soothing mood.

Walking through the half filled streets Wu Ming let the pleasant scent of camellias and summer air just before rain fill him. Dianxia was right, the town was rather charming, as much as he hated to admit it it did immediately improve his mood. Even the pressure in his head he had been feeling since arriving in this strange future was beginning to subside.

In contrast to the jeering of vendors on the streets of Ghost City, the old women manning the shop fronts did little to try and gain the ghost’s attention. They simply sat underneath their great tents waiting with expressions of ease for customers to approach them. One woman selling lotus pods even dropped a couple seeds into Wu Ming’s hand free of charge.

When he turned to offer them to Xie Lian he saw the God watching him with that same sweet expression that Wu Ming had mistaken for affection so often.

As he gave the seeds to Xie Lian, he did his best to keep his hand from brushing up against the God's slender fingers. He wasn’t sure he would be able to stop himself from running his hands over the calloused patches decorating Dianxia’s palm if he did.

Xie Lian happily finished off the seeds as they approached their destination. A modest bathing house stood before them. It seemed old, and the towering rocks outside its entrance were covered with much the same moss as the building itself.

About a year ago he and Hua Cheng had stumbled upon the sleepy village and bath house built on the natural springs. They had both spent a long time soaking and while Xie Lian wouldn’t usually think that it’d be Hua Cheng’s thing he seemed to really enjoy it. Something about that crystal water had a way of sapping every worry from your body. They had spent far more time in the water than was probably healthy. Xie Lian had even fallen asleep at some point and his husband had been too comfortable to try and wake him up.

He hoped that Wu Ming would enjoy it just as much as he did before, in fact, Xie Lian was excited to introduce the ghost to the springs again. If only to see the way his muscles relaxed when they hit the water.

Predictably, Wu Ming was a bit shy about changing near Xie Lian, but with some coaxing he agreed to switch into the spare set of inner robes the God had brought him. Xie Lian made sure his back was turned, though it’s not like anything he would see would be a surprise. He knew the ghost’s body about as well as his own at this point.

Xie Lian made sure his eyes were dutifully turned, even as he heard the slight hiss Wu Ming let out as he lowered himself into the crystalline waters. The God, having already chosen an auspicious spot near a looming stone edge in the left corner of the pool sighed contentedly.

“Is the temperature to your liking Wu Ming?” Xie Lian closed his eyes and leaned his head back with a slight smile. Heavens, he had forgotten just how blissful these springs could be. He could feel the steam rising from the water’s surface begin to rise and curl around his face. It really was easy to lose yourself in the sensation. Only feeling the warmth soak deep into his skin and hearing the light trickle of running water.

“En, it’s very nice.” Wu Ming’s voice seemed to come from the opposite end of the pool. Xie Lian opened an eye shyly to see the ghost sitting rigid as far from him as possible.

“You can come closer, you know.” Xie Lian said gently.

Wu Ming shifted under his God’s gaze. Even as on edge as he was, Dianxia’s attention never failed to make him want to squirm with pride.

The ghost shook his head resolutely. “It’s fine, Dianxia.”

The steam was beginning to work its way around Wu Ming as well. The last time they had come, Xie Lian had left the bathhouse with skin sticky from sweat and hair damp from the vapor in the air. Hua Cheng, naturally, had left looking rather unphased by the environment, not a single dark lock of hair out of its rightful place. Xie Lian had sulked a bit at the way his husband managed to seem so refined no matter the situation. Hua Cheng, of course, had found Xie Lian’s playful annoyance endlessly amusing.

If Wu Ming was able to use his powers to maintain his appearance in the same way, he clearly didn’t care to. His mind was on other things, the foremost being to not allow his eyes to rest upon his God’s flushed face for too long.

Xie Lian bit his lip as he weighed his next words in his mind.

“Could I… perhaps come over there, then?” A sudden bubble of shyness overtook the God at the request. He felt it a bit silly, all things considered, but his words held a tinge of nervousness all the same.

Wu Ming’s eyes widened slightly, but he didn’t react as badly to the suggestion as Xie Lian had feared.

He simply looked off to the side and Xie Lian almost thought he was about to deny him when he heard, “If Dianxia doesn’t mind being so close to this one.”

Not a second later the God sloshed over to sit beside his loyal follower. Even Wu Ming, adept to find the worst in situations, noticed the way Xie Lian seemed to glow in delight at his new spot at the ghost’s side. The ever present affection Wu Ming felt for him swelled at such a simple display of genuine joy from his beloved.

Xie Lian, seemingly appeased by their novel proximity, hummed softly to himself as he leaned back against the rocks and closed his eyes once more. Wu Ming watched the curve of his neck extend with a gulp. He did his best to ignore the flash of wanton thoughts it sent through his mind.

After the briefest glance Wu Ming looked away once more and began to settle himself as well. He had to admit, it really was quite nice here. With every minute he spent submerged the ghost could feel muscles and tendons he didn’t even know were so tense unwind one by one. A sense of drowsiness seemed to rush over him like a cooling kiss despite the heat of the bathhouse.

He knew he should stay awake for Dianxia. He had to keep an eye out.

He wasn’t exactly sure what for, but even in his fading consciousness he knew that should make himself useful in some way. Even if it was just one of a pitiful watchdog.

Wu Ming dared another fleeting glance at Dianxia. It probably wasn’t wise of the God to be so unguarded in the face of another, regardless of the fact Wu Ming would never do anything to harm him. His heart ached.

Was this fair? To allow him to be so close to what he coveted so desperately yet unable and unwelcome to touch?

He hadn’t been a saint in life, that he knew. He knew that his eye- that seething evil thing that made home in his skull- he knew it was at the very least a testament to his continued misery. As a child he had often wondered if he had done something to bring the affliction upon himself.

Was his eye the price of some previous life’s sins? Had he condemned his future long before he took his first breath? At times, Wu Ming thought it might be true. That any pain he felt was unavoidable at best and deserved at worst.

Dianxia was the only reprieve to that pain. He had been from the moment he caught him in the street. He was all that Wu Ming could even imagine life being good for. The God dozing off next to him was perhaps the briefest glimpse into the world that had been so firmly denied from him for so long.

How could he ask for more? Why did he always ask for more?

For all the dedication, for all of the unwavering faith he could give Dianxia, that anxious desire for more would never subside.

No matter how many times it got stamped out, no matter how many times it was proved that his love was beyond his reach… he wasn’t sure he would ever be able to fully crush that desire. Wu Ming knew without a doubt that that was his greatest weakness.

Knowing Dianxia already loved another, even that didn’t completely crush what filled his being.

His priority would always, always be his God’s happiness. It would always be moments like these where Xie Lian let the worries flow from him and rest with a small smile on his lips. If this husband made his God feel like this, then Wu Ming would accept it. He would push through the ugly twisting of his heart at the thought of Dianxia in the arms of another. He would smile. He would be a friend, if his God allowed.

He would also most certainly destroy this “husband” if he ever caused Dianxia harm. He knew he would.

For now, he would allow himself the easy pleasure of being in this moment. He would breathe in the hot air and sink into his seat. He wouldn’t think of Dianxia’s red thread, his loneliness, or the man he waited for.

He wouldn’t think of any of that.

He would allow himself to have this moment, no matter how selfish.

Chapter Text

Xie Lian had thought that the morning’s previous stress would be more or less washed away in springs, but it was beginning to appear he was wrong.

The God and his ghost had exited unwound and flushed. The steam had a way of dulling the mind in a way that was not unpleasant, so the lack of conversation between the two had not bothered Xie Lian at first. As they silently changed back into street robes, backs turned, Xie Lian had been foolish enough to mistake the silence for comfortable.

Now? It was just as bad as it had been walking to the village if not worse.

Had he made Wu Ming too uncomfortable? He supposed that sitting so close to him in such a state would be a bit flustering for the ghost, but he had seemed fairly relaxed inside the bathhouse. The God had noticed the way Wu Ming was slowly beginning to unwind. Over the past week he had seen him get less and less unsure of his place. Xie Lian cherished each time his apologies were slower, each time he smiled at at him, each time he spoke up or pulled a face that was particularly lively.

What was it about this day to make all of that progress seemingly backslide out of no where? A horrible thought burst through Xie Lian's head, was it possible his husband's condition was worsening? If Wu Ming was remembering less, the God doubted he would say anything.

And that was the hardest part- trying to protect someone who wouldn't let him know that he was hurting.

As the pair made their way back down the winding streets of the village a few hours later, Xie Lian felt like any pressure that had been lessened in the water was back with full force.

He spoke absentmindedly about the customs of the village and a particularly beautiful festival they held in just a few months, but his heart wasn’t in it. Wu Ming kept pace beside him and nodded and asked questions at all the right parts, but it was clear he was on edge as well.

The man was right beside him, smiling in that politely diplomatic way Xie Lian sometimes did but Hua Cheng seemed incapable of. That look that implied only appeasement and not genuine investment. It was concerning to say the least to see that look mirrored on his love’s face, and Xie Lian would be lying if he said it didn’t hurt a little to have it directed at him. Wu Ming was right there, but the distance between the two was almost tangible. While their footsteps on the dry ground fell in tandem, even a fool could see how out of synch they were.

Xie Lian wished he could chalk his fowl mood up to the perplexing strain between himself and Wu Ming, but he knew there was something else to.

Maybe it was the smell.

It wasn’t strong, not really. He couldn’t quite put his finger on what it even was. It was most definitely not the earthy smell of the bathhouse or the sweetness of the village. It had a strangeness about it, like if the god thought too long about it or tried to get a better scent it seemed to disappear all at once. It wasn't unlike trying to hold running water in one's palm. Honestly, Xie Lian couldn’t be sure if it was really there at all, but it was undeniably unpleasant.

Something burning? Rotten wood? Something once full of life slowly decaying?

In any case, the heaviness was pressing in on Xie Lian’s chest with a building force. Of course, there was also the feeling of being watched that had suddenly appeared. At first, the god had thought he was just imagining things. The instant he and Wu Ming stepped out of the old building and out into the street he felt it. The inexplicable sense that they were being observed.

The feeling only continued to grow as they got closer to the archway that served as an entrance to the town. Xie Lian wasn’t sure, but he almost could have sworn he kept catching glimpses of a dark shadow following behind them.

At times, Xie Lian’s imagination and worry could get away from him. He had a tendency to overthink, especially when faced too many problems at once, but if there was one thing he could rely on it was his instinct. That at least, was rarely wrong.

Dianxia.

Wu Ming’s voice filled his mind all at once. He glanced over at the ghost surprised. He had given Wu Ming his communication array on one of the first days he had woken up, but the other had been pretty clear he wasn’t going to use it. He had somehow convinced himself that he would annoy Xie Lian by using it to ask him “trivial” things, even though the god had been adamant he welcomed any thoughts he might have.

If Wu Ming was using it now, he must have noticed something wrong as well.

Do you smell that too? Xie Lian questioned.

Xie Lian did his best to keep their "conversation" normal and flowing outside array as to not let whatever was watching them know that they suspected anything. For once he was rather grateful for his ability to fill the air with senseless chatter.

En, and I believe we are being followed.

Yes. I think we are.

The God continued to drone on about proper storage of festival decorations but noticed the way Wu Ming picked up his step a bit and eyed behind them.

There. He said into the array. Behind the jiaozi stand.

Feigning an inspection of his pack that held their clothes, Xie Lian twisted slightly and finally caught a good look at what had been stalking them down the street. He honestly couldn’t see much outside of the figure’s heavy black cloak. It was dirty and fraying at the end, and a thick hood was drawn over the darkened face. They were far too cast in shadow to actually distinguish any features. Something about the way they were hunched seemed… wrong.

Do you think they mean us harm? Xie Lian straightened once again and continued along their path as if unbothered.

The figure hadn’t really done much more than follow, and while the once-prince was inclined to be wary because of his husband’s state, he didn’t exactly sense any malicious intent from their pursuer.

There was the smell, though. Now that he was certain someone was tailing them it was clearer somehow. Like the confirmation peeled away its layer of hidden protection. It was stronger, and now that Xie Lian could think about it for longer than a second without his brain going foggy it almost seemed vaguely familiar.

Had he encountered it before?

I am not sure if they wish to harm us. Wu Ming finally replied. But I don’t think we should wait for them to make their move to find out.

Agreed.

Wu Ming, did you happen to see the series of alleyways in the south end of the village?

I did.

Xie Lian knew that there wasn’t much more to discuss. The ghost clearly understood what he intended to do about their guest.

For the briefest moment, the pair’s eyes met. Xie Lian’s heart tripped a bit at the confident smirk that filled his love’s face just before they sprung into action. He wasn’t sure he had ever seen that look on Wu Ming’s face. Even as he spun around to catch the figure by surprise, Xie Lian’s head was preoccupied with the thought that he would give a lot to see that expression again.

Their tail seemed to realize what was happening fairly quickly. That was fine. Xie Lian knew that there was little they could do with the element of surprise in the open streets of the village. While it wasn’t a particularly busy town, Xie Lian didn’t wish to cause too much commotion or damage to the shops. As Wu Ming dashed forward, the figure startled and began to trip over itself to try and run the opposite direction.

Once it finally gained its footing the figure was surprisingly fast, but Xie Lian wasn’t about to let it get away. Not when whoever was under there could have ties to what happened to his husband’s memory.

The chase was over not long after it began as Ruoye had already begun to dart out at the figure at an impossible speed. Very few people could really avoid the spiritual device’s grasp when it was this motivated. Xie Lian had no doubts that the silk missed Hua Cheng just as Xie Lian did.

Within moments, Ruoye hit its mark. Silk contracted and spun the cloaked figure like a cocoon. They wouldn’t even have to chase the figure into the alleyways. The cloak looked almost like a sack of rice as it collapsed to the ground with the silk binding it thoroughly.

Relief flooded through Xie Lian as he made his way over to the struggling figure. Wu Ming was already standing above it glaring, and Xie Lian couldn’t help but laugh a bit at the sight. The God was not oblivious to hushed whispers and uneasy stares they were now getting from the townsfolk after the scene they caused, though. He sighed as he approached.

He really wasn’t looking forward to explaining that later.

Or, maybe he wouldn’t get the chance to because suddenly the bundle Ruoye was constricting began to tremble with a force so violent it sent tremors into the ground beneath it. Even Wu Ming staggered back slightly as the figure shook with increasing intensity.

“Dianxia!” The ghost jumped back to Xie Lian’s side and shoved a protective arm in front of the god. From the brief chase and time spent in the hot spring his normally neat ponytail had fallen into complete disarray. His bangs were wild and the tie that kept his hair from spilling over his broad shoulders was barely intact. He looked rather like Hua Cheng often did after Xie Lian attempted to do his hair. The God wondered if he would allow him to fix it for him later tonight.

His eyes were hard and focused, and like many times when he looked upon the man, Xie Lian couldn’t help but feel a bit breathless over how sharp and intense his husband could be. The very air around him seemed to crackle and spark. Someone had once compared the ghost to a live fire, and they weren't wrong. Nothing Hua Cheng did was without passion or clear intent. It seemed to Xie Lian that Wu Ming was much the same.

There were more pressing matters, though. Namely the fact Ruoye was clearly struggling to maintain its hold. The shaking just kept building, and the horrible fear that Ruoye would be torn to shreds by the trembling figure was what finally spurred Xie Lian into action.

It was too late though. All at once, the overwhelming scent of rot, ocean, and wet smoldering wood hit him and Wu Ming like a wall. It was all the god could do to not start coughing violently as his eyes burned. Was there smoke in the air?

Xie Lian guessed it didn’t really matter, because by the time his eyes stopped watering the figure was gone. The pair stood in a momentary state of shock at what had just happened. The figure had just disappeared, as if blown away by the wind. Thankfully, Ruoye seemed unharmed other than the black soot it was now covered in. It lay on the ground with languid twists as if it was also confused as to what had just occurred. Where the figure had been lying on the street also seemed black with ash.

“What was that?” Xie Lian wondered as he examined the street around him. During the confusion most of the people who had been watching them earlier had fled inside. Xie Lian supposed it was for the best.

“I’m not sure, your highness. Are you alright?” Wu Ming crouched down to inspect the dark stain against the rock and dirt.

“Ah, Wu Ming don’t-” Wu Ming’s previously outstretched hand froze at his God’s command. “We don’t know what that thing was made of, it could be dangerous.”

Xie Lian couldn’t quite believe he had to remind his companion to not go sticking his hand in unidentified remains left by a mysterious entity.

Wu Ming’s head ducked slightly. “I apologize. I just thought it would be useful to figure out what that thing left behind. Besides, I’m already dead.” The last part came out with a slight laugh, but the sardonic edge to his voice worried Xie Lian.

With a sigh he crouched beside the ghost. Noticing its master’s closeness, Ruoye was quick to shake itself off and return to Xie Lian’s arm.

“I know, but that doesn’t mean you can’t still get hurt.” Xie Lian stared directly into Wu Ming’s eyes as he said this. He wanted to be perfectly clear just how he felt about his husband’s lack of self preservation. “I’ve seen you put yourself in harm’s way for me too many times, Wu Ming. Please avoid it when you can. I refuse to lose you to something like this.”

Wu Ming looked over at him slightly wide eyed at the ferocity of Xie Lian’s words. Still, something jumped in his chest at the thought of his God caring that much for his safety.

Xie Lian was a mess. His white robes were soiled with dirt from the scuffle, his long hair falling around him in tangles, even his pale face somehow managed to become smudged with grime. So much for being clean after the springs. Despite his appearance- or perhaps because of it because there really was something so endearing about the way his God allowed himself to become disheveled so often- Wu Ming was struck by the intense beauty and power of Xie Lian in that moment.

He knew it was always there, a steady simmer below the god’s well-practiced smiles. He knew how commanding a presence Xie Lian could be, but having it directed at him was really something else. How could Wu Ming not love it?

He was about to say something, though exactly what he wasn’t really sure when a loud crash snapped him from his brief moment with Dianxia.

When Wu Ming’s eyes shot up he was met with the sight of the vanishing cloaked figure stumbling into a cart of fruit further down the street. Not needing to speak, Wu Ming and Xie Lian vaulted into action once more.

This time the figure had a greater head start. It weaved through the streets leaving a trail of pitch ash in its wake. The smell was back and while it wasn’t so strong the pair couldn’t follow, it certainly made things more difficult.

The figure was getting sloppier. If it was capable of getting tired, it was unquestionably doing so. Larger and larger chunks seemed to fall from it as it fled, and Xie Lian wasn’t sure if it was running from them so much as it was being pulled along. Multiple times it seemed to try and attempt the same disappearing act as earlier, but it would vanish for increasingly shorter amounts of time before crashing down a few chi ahead. Whatever it was doing, it seemed to take a toll and the god and ghost were quickly catching up.

After the figure toppled its fourth pop-up sale stand as it frantically clawed forward, Xie Lian couldn’t help but grimace at the thought of all the repairs they were going to have to pay for.

Once again, the figure began to vibrate indicating that it intended to try and dissipate again. But there it was. As Xie Lian and Wu Ming sprinted after it, the figure's shaking simply stopped instead of launching into another feeble attempt at teleportation.

Wu Ming, I think there’s a dead end ahead. Get it to turn into the right alley. I don’t think it will be able to vanish again.

In seconds the ghost changed course with a sudden burst of speed. The figure was startled by Wu Ming’s appearance on its left to say the least. With an inhuman screech, the first sound they had really heard it make, it scrambled down the nearest street.

Just as Xie Lian had predicted, it fled into the southern alley that met nothing but the looming rocks of the bathhouse.

It only took a moment for the figure to realize its mistake, and begin to desperately contort itself to try and find another exit. It was a moment too late, though. With only rock ahead and its pursuers blocking the exit, the figure was effectively trapped.

Ruoye shot out from Xie Lian’s outstretched arm like a striking viper, encasing the figure returning it to the ground within seconds.

“Listen, I just want to talk. Please stop running!” The God begged as he approached the struggling bundle. Wu Ming, only a step behind him, was fondly amused at the way his love treated it as though the figure had any choice but to obey his request. Xie Lian crouched down to place himself on the mystery assailant's level.

“Promise me you won’t run.” Xie Lian said, biting his lip. “Ruoye, release.”

The silk band constricted once, as if giving a warning to its captive not to try anything and slinked away.

Lying before Xie Lian was something that once could be considered human.

The cloak had more or less fallen away revealing the sunken charred face beneath. Its sagging gray skin was so brittle and dry Xie Lian felt himself hold his breath so as to not accidentally blow the it away. Just as he had feared, its body was the same charcoal as the ash it shed and was deeply mangled so that its arms were nearly indistinguishable from its legs. Underneath it all, cracks seemed to form fault lines along the skin, revealing a deep glow of a dying fire.

Now that he was so close to it, Xie Lian could finally place the smell. Burning and rotten fish.

“Dianxia…”

Wu Ming clearly did not appreciate how close Xie Lian hovered over the figure, but looking into its dimming golden eyes the god knew it meant him no harm. Or, at the very least, was no longer capable of harming them.

“Hello, my name is Xie Lian. What should I call you?”

Xie Lian supposed he should be a bit more cautious, but other than the ruckus and the smell, he didn’t think the figure was seeking violence.

The figure trembled slightly and Xie Lian heard a popping hiss as what he supposed was meant to be its mouth worked its way open.

“I once was called Jia Li, though I doubt anyone would address me as such anymore.”

A woman’s voice.

Just as Xie Lian had suspected.

He gently lowered himself so that he was fully sitting on the ground next to her. Once again, this sent a grumble of protests through Wu Ming, but the ghost remained standing protectively at his back.

“It’s nice to meet you, Jia Li. You wouldn’t happen to be the old woman responsible for the herb poisoning the south, would you?” Rather blunt, but dancing around the question wouldn't help.

“I would.” Her eyes burned up at Xie Lian, but there was no fight in them. No anger, only a deep sense of exhaustion.

“Why were you following us?” Xie Lian did his best to keep his voice soft and diplomatic. He was sure that any sudden moves would mean he would lose his chance to get real answers.

“I needed your help.” She wheezed, “I need your help.”

Wu Ming’s scoff at that admission wasn’t exactly helpful, but Xie Lian didn’t blame him.

“Then why did you run?” Wu Ming's voice held none of the gentleness Xie Lian was going for. No doubt the ghost was shooting her a murderous glare from behind his back. Xie Lian could only imagine the sight of him looming threateningly.

If the old woman was intimidated, it was impossible to tell. Something that may have been a dry laugh escaped from her writhing body.

“Got scared. Have two Gods run at you like that and see how willing you are to stick around and chat.” She spat bitterly.

“I’m not a God.” Wu Ming argued as if that would make any difference.

“What use are you then? I was looking for the white and red ones.”

Wu Ming seemed to be ready to bark back another defense, but knowing his husband Xie Lian had to step in before things got too heated.

“You wanted to find The Crimson Rain Sought Flower and I?”

The golden eyes locked onto Xie Lian once more.

“Is that what he calls himself? I don’t know. I don’t care. I just thought if anyone could help it would be you two.”

Xie Lian smoothed his hair, “I’m afraid there isn’t much I can do about your state if that’s what you wanted to ask.”

“No, did I say that?” Impatience surged through the woman’s body, sending a wave of ash and rot into the air. “You heavenly officials are all the same, aren’t you? So quick to assume you know exactly what the rest of us are thinking.”

“I’m sorry, please continue.”

Her chest heaved for just a moment as she let out a painful sounding cough. For her sake, Xie Lian hoped she couldn’t feel the pain of the state of her body.

“I want you to bring him back.”

Xie Lian sighed, “I think you better explain from the beginning. How did you end up like this?”

The God was ashamed at the wave of nausea the woman’s attempt at a smile sent through him.

“You probably think I deserve this, don’t you? Maybe I do. I don’t know. But I do know it wasn’t supposed to be like this. I never wanted to hurt anyone. Well, I guess that isn’t true. I wanted those bastards who built the canal to pay. All of them. I wanted them to suffer and lose everything just like my Le Yang did. Don’t you understand? The water was his life, all of our lives. Those rich pieces of shit didn’t care though, they just took what wasn’t theirs and left us to pay the price.”

Xie Lian frowned.

“The canal? In your village?”

“Yes. We used to be something, you know. Back when I was young, people would come for miles just to get a glimpse at our prosperity. They thought we were good luck. Our nets were always full and our stomachs were never empty. My husband was one of the best of them. Caught more than anyone his age. Some of the more bitter wives used to say I cast spells to allow him to speak to the fish, but it was never true. He was just that good.”

Hatred surged through the old woman’s bones; the black char of her fingers seemed to glow with the light of dying embers. Every breath she took was wheezing and labored. As if every rise and fall of her ever sinking chest was a conscious effort that she could not abandon.

“It was all so good until they built the canal. Those bastards working under a rich clan who lived north of us. They weren’t even from our town. They shouldn’t have been able to do it. It wasn’t fair. We worked so hard our entire lives and they just took it in one move. They built the canal and diverted the river and everything dried up before we even understood what was happening. People started leaving, and pretty soon the only ones of us left were the ones who had nowhere else to go.”

The woman’s eyes held a sadness so overwhelming as she continued, Xie Lian could almost feel it for himself.

“My Le Yang… He was always better than me. He was my kindness and patience. Don’t you understand? He was everything good about me. He also took it the hardest when the village began to crumble. He tried so hard to fix things. He took up wood work, you know. Was never very good at it, but he used to travel to other villages with that stupid little cart and try to pass off his carvings. It worked for a little while I suppose, but it didn’t matter. We barely had enough to eat, even with our garden, and I could tell there was something dying within him.”

All at once her rage seemed to appear anew. She lurched one of her crumbling hands forward to grasp onto Xie Lian’s wrist. The sensation didn’t burn like the god had expected. No, it was the sort of chilling cold that made your very bones feel brittle.

“Do you know what that’s like, beggar God?” Jia Li spat. “Do you know what it’s like to watch the only light in this bleak world just fizzle out into nothing? To watch and be able to do nothing as the one you love fights oblivion and loses?”

He had lost Hua Cheng in many ways before. One could argue that the first few centuries of the god's life were spent doing nothing but losing him. Those losses had always been violent and abrupt, though. Painful and traumatizing nonetheless, but at least quick. If he had to sit and watch his husband waste away, would he even be strong enough to bare it? If he was cursed to do nothing but witness the slow decay of the other man, Xie Lian was certain he would simply go mad.

“Maybe not, but I am no stranger to loss.”

Xie Lian’s wrist was beginning to throb where she held it. He didn’t blame the old woman though, it was clear enough to him that she had little control over her body at the moment.

Wu Ming though, had no issue expressing his displeasure over the situation. He leaned down to pull the arm away from Xie Lian with a scowl.

“I suggest you hurry your story along before I disperse you.” His voice was cold and commanding. Xie Lian was shocked at how much authority he could muster despite not being a ghost king yet. Regardless, Xie Lian knew that an offensive approach wouldn’t work best at the moment.

“Thank you, Wu Ming, but I would like to hear what she has to say.” Xie Lian gave him an apologetic smile and turned his attention back to Jia Li who was already firing back at the ghost.

“Ha! You can’t disperse me. I’m not dead. Not yet.” She was back to attempting that awful sour grin again.

This did surprise Xie Lian a bit.

“You’re not a ghost?”

“No, beggar God. I’m not.”

“Please, continue.”

Jia Li’s flaming eyes bore into him for just a moment. A long heavy silence spread through the air, and the god almost wondered if she was going to fall apart before she finished.

“You can guess the rest,” She started sometime later. “He wasn’t built to live without his work. When he passed I buried him in my garden. I guess it wasn’t that big of an assumption for people to think I used magic to make the fish come to my husband. You would call me a bit of a witch of sorts, if you wanted to. Nothing as dramatic as they thought, but I… had a way with things that should have been beyond me. In any case, when an herb I had never planted started growing above his grave during the dry season, maybe I knew that something could be done with it. And imagine my surprise! I had only hoped it was somehow poisonous when I gave it to one of the men who helped build the canal, but then… it was so much better.”

Xie Lian understood the urge to ruin the ones who had done you harm. Not just you, your reason for living. In the days when he felt he had no one and adorned a white mask, Xie Lian probably could have gleaned the same sick joy from seeing the ones who toppled Xianle suffer. That impulse to hurt, to scorch the earth beneath you so that the world might feel even a fraction of your pain, a younger version of the god knew it well.

With a faint sense of grief he saw that awful version of himself in the old woman before him, but he knew that didn’t make it right.

“You didn’t just give it to the men who made the canal, though. You sold it to anyone who asked. Innocent people suffered.”

“I did. Judge me all you want, I’ve long stopped caring about what the heavens think. I needed money. I had to survive. I had to maintain our home and our garden. The herbs were a gift from him, you see? It was my Le Yang giving me a way to go on without him. I had to protect him. If it meant a few pitiful fools died trying to snuff each other out, why should I care?”

From what Mu Qing and Feng Xin had told him, Xie Lian doubted it was only a “few” people who lost their lives from Jia Li’s herb.

“It was all fine until those bastards from the heavenly realm showed up. Asking questions. Pointing fingers. I realized they were on to me and I did the only sensible thing, I fled.”

Fury simmered beneath her breast and the scent of fire began to overwhelm the alleyway once more. This time, Xie Lian did not allow himself to turn away.

“They burned it all, didn’t they?” As if someone was pulling on the edges of a thread, her voice began to unravel and sound less and less human-like. “They destroyed what was left of my Le Yang. I felt it, you know. I haven’t been back to our home, there’s no point. But I felt it. One moment I was hitching a ride north in some merchant’s cart, the next I was burning.”

Jia Li’s body trembled with violent shakes as she shifted to cling against Xie Lian’s leg.

“This is what your gods did to me. Do you see that? Do you see what they’ve done?”

Xie Lian was starting to feel light headed, but he was beginning to understand what might have happened to land this woman in such a state.

“Generals Xuan Zhen and Nan Yang did destroy your garden, but it is not their fault you’re like this.”

“Oh, I imagine you think it’s my fault then.” She laughed dryly.

Xie Lian just shook his head.

“No, not any more than it was theirs. I also don’t think your husband sent the herbs, at least not intentionally. As I’m sure you know, too much resentment in one place can lead to… strange changes in our world. From what you’ve told me, your home was a place of great love and even greater despair. That kind of hate, it changes a place. Taking into account your previous abilities, it’s not surprising to me that some sort of curse manifested over your garden. One you were intrinsically tied to.”

For once, the old woman seemed to actually listen to Xie Lian’s words.

“So when it burned…”

“I believe it essentially burned away your soul as well, yes. Likely your spirit has already been destroyed, it’s just- clinging to your body as it decays. ” Xie Lian confirmed solemnly. “I’m afraid I still cannot help you reverse this, nor could Lord Crimson Rain if he were here.”

That seemed to get the woman to release her grip on the god’s robes. When she shrunk backwards she left more behind of her fingers than she took with her.

“I already said that isn’t what I wanted.” Her voice was soft, drained almost instantly of her earlier vitriol.

“What then?”

“I need you to help me bring him back. My Le Yang. If other ghosts can walk these grounds, why can’t he? If I’m as half dead as you say I am, why can’t we bring his soul back to join me?”

“I’m afraid that I don’t-”

“Liar! You must know, you have to. I found one of your temples, I’ve heard what your worshipers say. The red and white Gods. Lovers, guides to luck, a strong tie to the ghost world? Is that not you?”

Wu Ming was grateful that Xie Lian’s back was to him as he flinched slightly. Dianxia’s husband was another God? One that was worshiped alongside him as an equal? Wu Ming wasn’t sure what emotion that sent sparking through his body, but there was definitely irritation over the fact Dianxia didn’t have his own temples.

If he didn’t, Wu Ming would build him one.

Xie Lian surprisingly didn’t answer the old woman’s question, but instead asked his own.

“Did you have someone slip the herb into Lord Crimson’s drink?”

“Didn’t you say that your colleagues burned my garden to ashes? What could I have possibly given?” She sneered.

“Yes, but they said you must have taken something. Are you claiming to have lost all of the plants in the fire? That doesn’t explain why the sickness has continued to spread.”

“I don’t know. It just seems to follow me now.” Jia turned her head slightly.

“Even without the herb?”

“Yes. If you think I’m really tied to the place, it makes sense. I can’t stay in one place for too long anyway.

The God was beginning to understand what might have happened. If the old woman had tracked down him and Hua Cheng, with the way she could practically disappear into thin air, it’s possible she may have been able to make her way into Paradise Manor. Xie Lian’s husband was meticulous and iron-fisted with security, little ever escaped his notice. Mu Qing was right, though. After the disaster that was Banyue, it’s very likely that the ghost king had simply been too out of sorts to notice her strange presence.

He doubted the old woman would have the forethought or knowledge of their habits enough to specifically plan her intrusion for when their guards were down, could it really have just been an awful coincidence?

Xie Lian almost wanted to laugh at the idea that this whole ordeal had simply been caused by poor timing.

“Alright, so you came looking for us. If so, why wait this long to speak with me?”

Jia Li let out a sound that could only be described as a murderous groan of annoyance. The noise sent ire rushing to Wu Ming’s head. How dare she act as if Dianxia was the one inconveniencing her?

“I told you already beggar God,”

If she called Xie Lian that one more time Wu Ming was going to snap.

“I can’t stay in one spot for too long. It’s hard to control. Sometimes I’ll be right in the middle of something, the pain will get to be too much, and then I’ll just blow away I guess.”

Ah. So that was it. Xie Lian was really starting to find the comedy in the situation.

He let out a breath somewhat tiredly, “You wouldn’t have happened to have made your way into our bedroom before you… blew away, would you?”

“I suppose it could have been a bedroom. Awfully big place you have there. Garish.” She grunted.

“Let me guess, you also happened to touch one of the cups set out on the table.”

“So what if I did?”

The light in her body flared defensively, but it did little to seem threatening. With every move Xie Lian could see just how worn she was.

“Well, my husband also managed to come down with the sickness. I’d imagine that direct contact with something you touched could be how the disease has spread. If you’re leaving some of that resentful energy behind without meaning to.”

There was a long pause.

“It’s possible.” The woman stiffened. “But that’s not the point! Frankly, I don’t care. You have to help me. You will, won’t you? Surely you understand? I’ll do anything. Please. I don’t care what you think of me, but know that he is a good man. He deserves to live.

“I don’t think so.” Xie Lian shook his head softly, but with the same princely firmness he used to.

“What?” The old woman sputtered.

“I don’t think your husband would want to be brought back. Not when it would mean he’d have to watch you suffer like this. You said it yourself, you can barely keep your body in one place for long enough. How hard are you working just to hold on? You must be in pain. I understand that moving on can be terrifying, but you have someone waiting for you. Someone who wouldn’t want you to destroy yourself trying to bring back what is no longer here.”

“What do you know? You’re immortal. Don’t mock me by pretending to understand.”

“You’re right, I don’t. But I have lived through many lifetimes past your own, and I can say this with certainty.” Xie Lian leaned down slightly and placed a soft palm over her hand. “You cannot bring back what has been truly lost. Sometimes the things we need the most leave us, and it hurts, but you need to let them go. The best you can do is mourn them properly, and do what you’re able to honor the memory they left you. Trying to recreate it? Trying desperately to drag the pieces back into place when they no longer fit? It will only bring you pain.”

“How-” Jia Li’s voice broke. “How do I let go? I can’t… too- too much has… I’ve done…” Jia Li paused. “How can I face him like this?”

Xie Lian hovered his hand above her chest. He wanted to do what he could to ease her pain, but wasn’t sure how. There was no doubt this woman had a great deal of hatred within her, and Xie Lian was well aware of just how much harm she had done with seemingly little regret. Still, she didn’t deserve to suffer.

“If he loves you as you say he did I’m sure he will find a way to forgive you. But, honestly? You’ll have to find absolution in yourself if that is what you wish.

“Your Crimson Rain-”

The god gave her a somber smile, “I suspect he’ll be back to normal shortly?”

“Yes…” Her voice was fading, the burning embers losing heat. “Shortly… He should be.”

“And for that I am grateful.”

At that, the old woman’s body began to sag. Xie Lian’s words may have been enough to finally release her. All at once the smell began to subside, and her limbs began to blow away like a fine dust on the wind.

Xie Lian watched with a melancholy as the being that had once been Jia Li finally crumbled. He mourned her despite everything. He doubted the old woman had anyone else to do so, and everyone deserved to be remembered. Even if it was only for a moment. He mourned those who were lost due to her hatred as well. He felt their absence with the sober realization that the monster that claimed their lives really hadn’t been a monster at all. Merely a scared woman who had cruelly lashed out at the world that took something precious from her.

Something in him longed for the days when he was childish enough to believe that evil could only be found in the eyes of those without redemption or guilt.

Soon enough, all that was left of the old woman was the dark stain that clung to a God’s robes.

In the shocked quiet Xie Lian made up his mind.

Rising to his feet slowly, he brushed off his clothes. He knew the ash wasn’t going to come out, but he still felt that he should do a little to try to clean himself up.

“Dianxia-” Wu Ming had started when the god turned to him.

“Do you want to visit one of my temples?”

The ghost was a bit surprised by the offer, but they both already knew his answer.

____

It wasn’t quite what Wu Ming had expected. He had seen many of the small temples during their travels. He had hoped it was a temple for Xie Lian, and had made many attempts to steer their path towards it, but his God had always found a way to change their course.

Now, standing inside the great temple walls he almost felt underwhelmed. He wasn’t sure what he had thought a shrine to Xie Lian and his husband would look like, but it was a lot more tasteful than he had imagined.

The temple was modest, all bright wood and sheer fabric. It consisted of only one main room, and it was hardly big enough to fit more than a few people. The sweetness of clove and burning incense kept the air light and refreshing. Wu Ming almost felt the urge to lay down and rest.

Situated in front of him were the two statues of the Gods. On the right was what was presumably meant to be Dianxia. It wasn’t a particularly detailed carving. White stone had been smoothed and chipped away to reveal a face that did little to actually resemble the crown prince of Xianle beyond its warm smile.

The statue was unlike the ones Wu Ming remembered from his youth. This one seemed to be wearing loose and simple robes as compared to the opulent dress of the Flower Crown Martial God. The statues of Xianle’s time were always regal, imposing, and set out to cut the powerful image of the crown prince deep into the hearts of whoever gazed upon one. This statue had an openness to it not unlike a saint. Instead of appearing to be dancing through a battlefield, the statue before Wu Ming stood still and with open arms. One of the statue’s slender palms was held out, as if waiting for an offering or another hand to join its own.

Wu Ming thought about how he would like to fill that waiting palm. A flower, his own grasp.

This statue of his God wasn’t grand, not like he deserved, and the ghost felt as though he could most definitely etch a more beautiful one. Gazing up at the stone Xie Lian’s frozen face, Wu Ming decided he most definitely would. Still, he had to admit that this version of his God seemed to reflect his gentleness in a way those before it had not.

Wu Ming also noticed a distinct lack of pads to kneel upon. He smiled a bit, he knew how his God felt about the matter and was at least pleased that whoever constructed this temple listened.

The ghost had to acknowledge the other half of the room, though. He wished he didn’t, but with a hesitant glance he examined the statute standing proud beside his God’s. So there he was, what had Dianxia called him? The Crimson Rain Sought Flower?

It was a stupid title if you asked Wu Ming.

The statue was almost the complete opposite to Xie Lian’s. Still carved in the same white stone, this figure held a menacing aura that the ghost couldn’t quite explain. As he stepped closer to inspect it, he noticed the way its frame cut commanded it be seen. The carving was just as featureless as Dianxia’s, perhaps even more so, but Wu Ming was able to make out the hint of a proud smirk. Its shoulders were broad, and one had lay on the hilt of a blade at its side.

Wu Ming’s eye twitched a bit. The ghost could already tell he disliked the man based purely on bravado of the stone version of him.

Was he a martial God as well? That would make sense, who else could begin to rival equals with Dianxia?

Xie Lian watched in silence as Wu Ming took in the room around them. He had wanted to let the ghost speak first, but he wasn’t sure that his accompaniment was going to voice his thoughts without prompting.

“I apologize for not taking you to a grander one,” Xie Lian broke their silence at last. “I thought it was best to just find the closest after such a long day. I hope it will do?”

Wu Ming flicked his eyes to the ground. How could he meet his God’s open gaze when jealousy was coursing like a poison through his veins?

“Nonsense. It is quite beautiful, Dianxia.”

Xie Lian sighed and looked up at the fox-grinned statue of his husband. “Yes, I think so too.”

Wu Ming dared a shy glimpse of his God’s face, but wished he didn’t after for the first time in his life. Something deep within him shrunk back in pain at that soft adoring look on Xie Lian’s face at even just his husband’s image.

He gulped.

“You’re worshiped together?”

“Hm? Oh yes, we are. Our followers believe it brings good luck, if you can imagine that.”

Wu Ming felt smaller than he ever had. It was stupid really, to get so worked up over such a predictable disappointment. He did his best to move through it. For Dianxia.

He did his best to display a calmness he did not feel, so that when Xie Lian finally looked over to him he didn’t see what was clawing inside the ghost.

“Why isn’t he here?” Wu Ming tried to keep his voice level.

He must have succeeded a bit, because Xie Lian just gave him a small smile.

“You mustn't think poorly of him, Wu Ming. He would be with me if he was able. Besides, he’ll be back any moment now.”

Oh.

Of course he would.

The ghost wasn’t proud of the surge of childish possessiveness that surged through him at that thought.

"No." He blurted out. Heavens, he really was miserably impulsive today. He knew he shouldn’t, but the resentment in him was building faster than he could control it.

"No?"

"Whoever he is, he shouldn't leave you alone like this. It- it isn't right. You're sad because of him, no? If he's enough of a heartless coward to just leave you like this, how on earth could he deserve you? I can't accept that. Taizi Dianxia, I know it is not my place but I can't accept that. It's disgusting." His face was almost red with anger, "I- I hate him!"

As soon as the words left the ghost’s mouth he shrunk back. He shouldn’t have said that, anything but that. Who was he to criticize Dianxia’s beloved like that? Hadn’t he told himself earlier that he would do whatever he could to support the other man’s happiness? What a joke.

Was he really asking his highness to choose between him and the man he loves? As if there would be any competition, he thought bitterly. Wu Ming felt as if the walls were closing in around him, had he really just ruined his friendship with Xie Lian in one foul swoop?

Wu Ming went to rush and apologize but was stopped by an odd sound escaping Xie Lian.

Wu Ming expected many reactions. Sadness. Fury. Well maybe not fury, though he deserved it Wu Ming knew his God to be kinder than that.

Had not expected, however, laughter.

"Dianxia?" Wu Ming stepped lightly towards his God, now doubled over in laughter.

"Wu Ming," Xie Lian said between gasps. "I'm sorry. I should have told you sooner."

Wu Ming looked at him quizzically, "Told me what?"

Xie Lian turned and grabbed his bemused companion's hands with an unreadable expression on his face. He didn’t seem angry, if anything his eyes seemed to be bright with that affection like sweetness again.

The God shook his head slightly as he looked into Wu Ming’s eyes. “I really made a mess of things didn’t I, Wu Ming? I told myself I was waiting for your sake, but it was just my own cowardness.”

“I don’t understand-”

"It's you, silly. Who else could it be?”

And just like that the world around Wu Ming seemed to freeze.

It was as if life itself stopped to allow his swimming brain to process what he just heard. He couldn’t be. Dianxia couldn’t mean what he dared to hope he did.

Like a shy flame being brought back to life by a tender breath, something in the ghost began to ignite.

“I’m who?” Wu Ming felt he knew the answer, but he couldn’t afford to be wrong. Not about this.

The God before him’s soft lips turned upwards ever so delicately and Wu Ming watched in awe as the other laced their fingers together.

“My dear husband,” Xie Lian said, bringing their intertwined hands up to his lips. “He’s the most loyal person I know. He would go through hell and back for me, and he has, far more times than I probably deserve.”

Predictably, Wu Ming made a face at this. The other man quickly silenced him by placing a feather-light kiss against the ghost’s now trembling hand.

“He would die for me a thousand times over, but most importantly he would live for me, and I want nothing more than that. He would give the world if I asked, but I only ask for him. He is clever and mischievous. He is more competitive and childish than he would ever admit. He can be incredibly stubborn, but I can too, so I guess that makes us pretty impossible at times. He makes me laugh like no one else, he makes me cry like no one else. He tells me things I never thought would be directed at me, things I don’t think I could have even dreamed of hearing. He is incredibly handsome. Heavens, I still catch myself just staring at him at times. I just look at him and think, what on earth did I do to deserve his devotion?”

Xie Lian flushed slightly and pressed another delicate kiss into Wu Ming’s knuckles. Then, he paused slightly and pulled their hands down to his side, forcing Wu Ming’s body even closer to his God’s.

“If somehow all of those things weren’t enough to make me helplessly in love with him, that would be it, his devotion. He has always loved me, always protected me. He’s always been there. Never once has he judged me for what was beyond my control, and never once has he judged me for what was. He is the sun’s final breath at sunset before the cool rush of stars. He is as steady as the ground itself and I have never understood how he can’t see just how extraordinary he is. He constantly second guesses the fact he deserves me, and maybe I could say I wonder if I deserve him. I do wonder, but I don't think he liked that. Instead I choose to spend every moment with him making sure he knows that I simply cannot conceive of a life without him. Who else could that be but you, Wu Ming? Who else could I possibly want other than you?”

Wu Ming had never been one for tears.

At least not when he finally grew up. They didn’t do anyone any good. They couldn’t save him as a child, they couldn’t save him in his first death, and they couldn’t save Dianxia when White No-Face tore him into ribbons.

He found them an awful unproductive waste.

Nothing more than a sign of weakness.

He still believed that to be mostly true of himself, and now he felt the familiar pins of tears welling up in his eyes. He knew his God could see them, but he wasn’t sure he cared.

He wished he had the words to return. He could fill countless hours with thoughts of his God. How deeply he wanted and loved and cherished, but in the face of such a declaration Wu Ming found they all died on his tongue. There was only one thing to say, though he supposed Xie Lian already knew.

“I love you.”

The words were rough and horse from his lips, but Xie Lian’s impossibly close face glowed with radiance as if Wu Ming had delivered an equally beautiful confession.

Xie Lian dropped his beloved’s hands tenderly, only to loop his arms around the taller man’s shoulders and push the thick black bangs from his face and rest his palm against the base of his neck. His warm eyes were two crescent moons and Wu Ming was suddenly struck by how much his face must hurt from smiling so hard. He doubted the god minded.

“I love you too, Wu Ming. So much. More than I will ever be able to tell you.”

The ghost’s still shaking hands found their way into place on Xie Lian. One rested lightly on his hip, and the other ever so sweetly cradled the small of his back. They were pressed achingly close, chests aligned so Wu Ming could feel each rise and fall of his love’s breath.

Maybe his barely held back tears had begun to slip slightly from the corners of his eyes, the ghost couldn’t really tell.

“I think that was a pretty good start, Dianxia.” He tried to joke but there was no denying the intense fondness that soaked his voice.

Xie Lian laughed anyway and pulled him into a tight hug.

“I’m sorry for confusing you, love.”

“No need. I probably should have been able to figure it out on my own. You- you weren’t exactly subtle were you?” Wu Ming said, burying his nose in the crook of Xie Lian’s neck. If this was a dream, Wu Ming prayed he would never wake.

The rumble of his God’s laughter filled him like a summer storm.

“I suppose I wasn’t.”

Chapter Text

She what?

Mu Qing and Feng Xin’s voices seemed to melt into one inside the communication array. Xie Lian had been eager to explain what happened to the two southern gods, but they really were awfully loud. The man in white winced a little as the pair shouted over each other.

She was, well, burning. I’m really not sure how else to describe it.

But you dealt with it? Feng Xin at least had the head space to clarify.

Yes, like I said, she’s moved on.

Xie Lian heard what could have definitely been a scoff from Mu Qing. He sympathized with the man. While their relationship was certainly better now, Mu Qing was nothing if not prideful and Xie Lian doubted he appreciated Xie Lian swooping in and seemingly doing their job for them.

Well thanks for letting us know. The words were nice, but his voice was undeniably dripped in sarcasm. Xie Lian had learned to stop taking it personally ages ago.

Ignore him, Feng Xin cut in. Honestly, your highness. Thank you. We both appreciate you solving the matter.

I never said anything-

Anyway, how is Crimson Rain?

Xie Lian looked over at the ghost’s sleeping form.

After what happened in the temple and with Jia Li, they had both been pretty tired. It was funny, they returned home from the whole mess much like they had when it all began. Exhausted and eager for nothing but sleep. Only this time Xie Lian made sure Paradise Manor doubled security.

Of course, there was also the fact their return was marked by Wu Ming holding his hand with a dazed look on his face. Xie Lian had practically died with joy when the ghost took his hand between them on their return without even asking. He had been nervous of course, that much was unavoidable. But Xie Lian loved the way he would catch his shy glances every once in a while. The way Wu Ming looked at him, as if he wasn’t one hundred percent sure he wasn’t just a dream, well it was rather cute.

They hadn’t spoken much once they returned to the manor. What more was there to say? Well, plenty, but it became clear to both of them that their time remaining together was brief, and that they would much rather simply spend it in each other’s company.

Wu Ming didn’t even protest as Xie Lian pulled him into their room instead of letting him return to the guest chambers he had been using. He did get a little shaky, though. It was endlessly endearing.

As the two prepared for bed, they weaved around each other almost as if engaged in some sort of secret dance. Not speaking, but not not speaking either. Wordless and easy they moved as one. Wu Ming may not have had the years beside his God that Hua Cheng did, but over and over again he proved simply to Xie Lian that he just understood him. Even without experience. The whole evening had a strange surreal feeling that was not unpleasant.

Ghosts didn’t need to sleep, not really, but as the sun was slipping below the trees in the mortal realm, Wu Ming’s eyelids began to fall with it.

After taking a much needed bath, Xie Lian had entered the room to see the ghost laying on his side barely awake. His hair was down and pooled around him like silk. The spare robes he had changed into were a deep maroon, the most color he had seen Wu Ming wear since, well, ever. Even though his head rested against his arm on the pillow, he began to stir the minute he noticed Xie Lian’s appearance.

“No, no! Don’t get up, Wu Ming!” Xie Lian had quickly rushed over to urge his husband to lay back down. He did. Though not without shooting a look that could only be described as a pout at the god.

Moments later, Xie Lian was in bed beside him. He hadn’t realized just how much he missed the ghost’s familiar weight against the bed, but now that it was here again Xie Lian couldn’t conceive of how he survived without it.

When the god looked over, two mismatched eyes were staring back.

“My memories should be back when I wake?” Wu Ming whispered after some time.

“Yes, my love. I think they will be.”

Xie Lian rolled over on his side so he could fully face him. Laying plush against the thick sheets, their noses were so close they almost brushed. In an act of boldness, Xie Lian extended his leg ever so slightly so it could rest atop his companion’s colder one.

He did not miss the shiver that sent through Wu Ming.

“I’ll be… him again.” He seemed to say to himself.

Xie Lian chuckled a bit, “Who, Wu Ming?”

“Your San Lang.” There was a strange hint of sadness in his voice.

Xie Lian reached forward to gently cup the side of his face. This time, the ghost leaned into it with a sigh.

“You are him, Wu Ming.”

“I’m sorry but I’m not Dianxia. I don’t remember.” He looked heartbreakingly ashamed of himself, but he didn’t shrink away. That at least was something.

“That doesn’t matter to me. You’re still him, and every moment I love you, I am loving my husband as well. Just as every time I love him, I am loving you.”
Wu Ming had seemed too tired to do much but make a soft noise at the words. Xie Lian smiled fondly.

“No matter what you’re called, it’s still you. It’s always you.”

Their faces were so close together Wu Ming could feel Xie Lian’s breath every time it sent a cool rush against his skin. Their faces were so close Xie Lian barely had to move to bring their lips together softly.

It wasn’t a particularly passionate kiss, not like the ones he and Hua Cheng shared late at night with wandering hands, but it still left the god breathless.

The feeling of timid lips against his own. The quiet noises of satisfaction that escaped his love’s body. The glowing undone look Wu Ming had on his face when they finally parted. All of it, overwhelming and perfect and closer to divinity than Xie Lian had ever felt in the heavens.

“I really do love you, gege”

At that point, Xie Lian had been certain Wu Ming was trying to kill him.

“Ah… Wu Ming. You can’t just do that so suddenly.” He had burned bright red and buried his face in his hands, but he couldn’t help the grin filling his face.

“I apologize, Dianxia. This one was under the impression you wanted me to call you that.” His voice was full of playful reverence as the ghost slipped a hand around Xie Lian’s back to pull him into his chest.

Well, his husband certainly got bold quick, didn’t he?

At some point in the night, Xie Lian’s laughter had finally subsided, and Wu Ming’s soft kisses fell into rest.

As it went with sleep, Xie Lian couldn’t quite remember when it finally claimed him, but when he awoke he was looking at the face of a resting ghost king.

Xie Lian had been content to let the man sleep while he filled in his friends about what happened. He also took the liberty of letting Yin Yu know that Hua Chengzhu had returned. Though, somehow the man seemed to already be aware. Xie Lian supposed it made sense, once Yin Yu had his mind set on a task there seemed to be little he didn’t know about it.

Of course, E'Ming's sudden reappearance in the manor could have alerted him as well. Xie Lian hadn't quite been sure what happened to the scimitar once Hua Cheng lost his memories. Since the blade held a part of himself within it, it seemed to be affected by the old woman's curse as well. Even now with as many answers as Xie Lian was going to get, there was still so much about the ordeal he questioned. That was life, though wasn't it? In all his years Xie Lian had rather come to accept that there was rarely a satisfying explanation for things.

Well? Is the creep back to normal yet? Mu Qing snapped, waking the god from his thoughts.

Just as he was about to answer, the man beside him finally stirred.

With a groan Hua Cheng sat up and stretched. Xie Lian giggled a bit at the way he looked more like a pleased housecat than a man who had just been under an illness for more than the past week.

He yawned a bit and then looked over at Xie Lian sleepily. It was rather cute, his hair was sticking up in a way it hardly ever did. But there he was. Pearl tied snug into his hair, red string wound around his finger, bangs falling across where a ruby eye once sat. His husband.

It seemed to take Hua Cheng a moment to process what exactly was going on. He just stared at Xie Lian somewhat blankly for a second, as if confused as to why the other seemed so happy to see him.

Then, it seemed to hit him all at once.

“Ugh, Gege.” He moaned into his hands. “Can we just pretend last week didn’t happen?”

Xie Lian beamed and scooted closer to him.

“I’m certain I don’t know what you mean, San Lang.”

Hua Cheng eyed him from behind his fingers.

“Wipe that smirk off your face and say it again, Dianxia.”

The god couldn’t hold back his laughter any longer, and suddenly flung himself into the ghost’s arms. Hua Cheng had been expecting it of course, and caught him immediately. As he pulled Xie Lian into his lap he let out another dramatic sigh.

“Please tell me it’s not as bad as I’m remembering. I couldn’t have been that annoying.”

Xie Lian swatted his arm slightly, “You weren’t annoying! You were rather adorable, honestly.”

Predictably this sent another grumble through the taller man.

“Adorable. Great.” He rested his forehead against Xie Lian’s with a dramatic air of defeat. “I really caused a scene like that in the temple, and then cried? You can’t be serious.”

“Ah well that was partially my fault. I really should have told poor Wu Ming we were married sooner.”

“No, that idiot should have been able to pull his head out his ass long enough to put the pieces together himself.” Hua Cheng huffed.

“Don’t be mean, San Lang. I really liked having him around.”

The ghost pulled back slightly and observed Xie Lian with that recognizable shine in his eye.

“More than having me around? Tell me gege, did you miss this poor husband but at all?”

Xie Lian was pretty used to his husband’s impishness, and knew that it was only a bait to get him to compliment him. He knew what Hua Cheng was playing at, but he fell for it anyway. He always did.

The god leaned forward and pressed a deep kiss into the ghost’s mouth. Hua Cheng at least hadn’t been expecting that based on the way he froze momentarily before returning the affection. Xie Lian felt a childish surge of pride as if he had somehow won when he finally pulled away.

“I missed you of course, but it isn’t about who I like to have around better.” Xie Lian whispered. “As I explained to you last night, it doesn’t matter what you’re called or what you remember. Hua Cheng, Crimson Rain, San Lang, Hong-er, Wu Ming- it doesn’t matter. No matter the face it’s you.”

Hua Cheng clearly wasn’t expecting such a serious reply either, but he welcomed it all the same. An easy smile worked its way across his face. His eyes lit up handsomely, and for the hundredth time Xie Lian was stuck by just how gorgeous the other man was.

“Who else could it be?” He repeated Xie Lian’s words from the temple.

“No one.”