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It had been less than a month since Hua Cheng had clawed himself from the depths of that endless abyss, re-emerging from an aimless ghost fire once more… It had been less than a month since the ghost was finally reunited with his god, basking in true happiness and peace for the first time as they slowly navigated their relationship.

So why on Earth was his dianxia getting dragged away to the heavens to resolve whatever mess those fools had again?! Graciously, he had provided aid to rebuild the heavenly capital, yet those incompetent ‘heavenly officials’ couldn't even conduct it properly, dragging his god in at every chance they received.

Even now, it all felt as if it was no more than a hopeful fantasy. A vision induced by the throes of madness. The domestic bliss that he had never managed to obtain. Days spent alongside his god. After all, Hua Cheng hadn’t been joking when he’d said that no matter how short, separation was still separation. With his cheek in his hand, the calamity went back to the task of examining the gambler’s den. He hadn’t had a chance to visit after his return. It was made even clearer in the way that every citizen seemed to be twice as energetic as usual. Hua Cheng would have snickered at the thought previously. Though, all he felt now was the oncoming of a headache. Insufferable.

He must have lost control of his aura, since the ghosts kept glancing at the gauzy curtain. Antsy murmurs could be heard even through the shrieks and cries. Heaving a breath he no longer needed, Hua Cheng attempted to reign the energy back in. Though, if the faces of the ghosts were anything to go by, he failed to succeed. 

He was being foolish–he knew that. Dianxia had left not half a shichen ago. Though not before hastily procuring some calligraphy practice sheets for Hua Cheng to complete if he got bored in his god’s absence. Of course, those sheets were almost instantly strewn aside in favour of more…passionate activities. 

Nevertheless, the ghost couldn’t help feeling restless as he shifted in his seat. He wasn’t sure if it was his anxiety at being separated from his god, but the hall felt oddly warm today. It wasn’t at all surprising that such a heavily packed place would be warm. It was just that he, as a supreme ghost, was normally unsusceptible to such sensations. But then again, that supposed ability had never stopped the sun from getting to him. 

He tugged at the collar of his crimson shirt, willing himself to feel cooler. He could feel each of the layers acutely from where they were oddly clinging to his skin. Hua Cheng’s mouth tugged into a frown as he tried to brush it off. Was he that touch-starved already? How ridiculous. 

He knew the gambler’s den was more rowdy than usual, but the yelps of ghosts and clatters of dice against tables felt so much louder than usual. Another bout of resentful energy. Lesser ghosts were startled at the sudden aura, while mortals cowered at the chill. 

Hua Cheng chastised himself for not being able to get it together. Abruptly, he stood, immediately feeling exhausted when he did. Shaking it off, he rolled his crimson dice. The gauzy curtain was parted, and the calamity’s form materialized in Qiandeng temple. 

The moment Hua Cheng reformed within the temple, a bout of dizziness hit him like a wild wind. He grit his teeth against the sensation, resting a hand upon a nearby pillar for support. The temple was quiet–uncomfortably so. Too used to cheerful chatter and laughs, it felt strange now. The calamity couldn’t help but let out a growl at the feeling that something was terribly wrong. He wanted nothing more than his highness to come back. To lie in their bed as he got all their pillows and blankets–no.

Dianxia was busy and his neediness wouldn’t do his god any good. Hua Cheng was already acting like a mess–he had better get it together before his god returned and worried if something was wrong. 

His eyes fell upon the calligraphy sheets still strewn atop the altar–sacrilegious really. But his god wasn’t a conventional one. He never was. Ordering believers not to kneel. Helping them out when he could and never seeing himself as above them. A smile finally managed to make its way to the ghost's face at the thought, how gracious his beloved truly was. 

His beloved. Carefully preparing calligraphy practice sheets in lieu of his horrendous script. He may as well complete those sheets before his god returned and return his beloved’s good will. With a set mind, Hua Cheng made his way to the altar-table, picking up a priceless speckled jade brush (One he always blamed his handwriting for). He settled into one of the chairs they left scattered around the table, and dipped the bristles into the pre-ground ink. The ghost willed his hand to steady as he lay out the first practice sheet. With his whole focus on the brush in his hand, he swiped it across the paper.

But the ink bled. All that was left in its wake was an uneven line. His aura threatened to flare again at the failure, but he willed it down. What was he even expecting? No amount of effort from his highness could change this useless calligraphy of his. 

He tried again. He was halfway through the next character when the brush dropped from his hand. It hit the floor with a clatter, staining the floor with ink. Hua Cheng stared at his trembling hands, throat tight with something that felt too much like shame.

Why was he like this? So useless. Had he truly gotten so spoiled to the point of being incompetent? With a frustrated growl, the ghost stood again. His hands twitched with the need to do something–anything. He couldn’t stand feeling so useless, he’d been enough of that in the past eight centuries.

His hands clenched into fists at his sides. With far less care this time, he threw his crimson dice once more. Hua Cheng cared not for the inky splatter on the ground, nor the priceless brush that had rolled off to who knows where. All that was left in the heated haze of his mind was the need to be better. Better than that bratty street rat. Better than that ghost fire, unable to warm his god. He wanted his god to want him. 

The dice clacked along the floor before coming to a stop at the large, brass doors of the temple. Hua Cheng wasted no time in striding over to the entrance; when he opened it, a training ground appeared before him. He wasted no time in summoning E-Ming. 

With his scimitar in hand, Hua Cheng did the one thing he knew he wouldn’t fail. He fought. He struck out with every fibre of his being, not stopping even when his skin began to crawl with heat once more. This was the one thing Hua Cheng had constantly done since the day his existence was (not) welcomed into the world. Fought. Against his family. Against other street children. Against thieves and crooks. Against the opposing faction in the war. Against Gods and Ghosts, even Himself. There was only one thing he didn’t need to fight against. But that thing wasn’t with him right now. 

The calamity’s boots banged against the hard ground as he lout out strike after strike. His moves were not graceful like his god’s. Contrarily, they were very rough. Messy. Every swing of his sabre seemed to speak for his piled frustration, leaking out as his swings became  increasingly frantic. His body burned, his lower stomach and back pulsing endlessly. Probably from the exertion.

Then, just as quickly as it had before, exhaustion hit him like a crashing tide. His head felt heavy, almost numb. The ghost barely registered anything as he lost his footing. The world turned sideways, then, black. 

When Hua Cheng’s single eye finally opened again, he was no longer in the training grounds. Rather, he found himself lying amongst soft red silk and fluffy pillows. The familiar scent of incense permeated the air, though another, much stronger smell immediately covered it. Osmanthus and sandalwood. As he breathed that scent in, he felt as if he could pass out again, this time out of comfort rather than pain. 

But just at that moment, the memories of the day came crashing back to him all at once. As well as the realisation of where he must be (and who with). His left eye immediately opened wide. The ghost winced from the light before his eye fell upon a familiar figure–Xie Lian, at the edge of the bed, watching him with furrowed brows.

“Dianxia…” Hua Cheng’s voice came out hoarse. Immediately, he cleared his throat. How embarrassing. He had been little more than a disgrace today, combined with the mess he must look like now… 

Xie Lian’s face immediately softened at his voice, hand coming to rest on the ghost’s as Hua Cheng began (trying) to sit up. The warmth of the god’s hand did wonders to calm his mind. Though, just as quickly, he was filled with shame. Hua Cheng looked away, unable to meet his dianxia’s concerned gaze. 

“San Lang?” Xie Lian’s voice was filled with worry. Hua Cheng only felt worse. “San Lang, are you alright? What happened?”

Hua Cheng’s throat tightened. Always so useless. He didn’t deserve to be the object of Xie Lian’s concern. Instead of answering the god’s question, he evaded it. Hoping for even a minute of more time to compose himself and convince his god he was fine.

“I’m fine dianxia… This unfortunate one was just worried sick about when my husband would decide to come home.” Hua Cheng said, forcing a smile that turned a bit more real at the sight of his beloved’s flushed face. 

“San Lang–ah… Must you make it sound as if I'm an unfaithful husband?... Ahem–anyway.” Ah. It seemed he wouldn’t be so lucky for his god to forget this situation right away.

“Yin Yu had informed me that you passed out on the training field?” Xie Lian chuckled a little as he continued to speak, but Hua Cheng was not amused at all. “You should have seen the way the gods looked when I rushed out in the middle of the meeting..”

“Dianxia didn’t finish his business?” Even Hua Cheng couldn't conceal his frown at the news. Of course his god shouldn’t be bothered with those heavenly trash, but to be that reason that his god had to rush back…

“Aiya–of course not San Lang! I believe I was actually the one worried sick between us.” Xie Lian’s words did very little to soothe the gaping hole of shame in the ghost's chest. Hua Cheng forced himself to calm down. He knew that with one wrong move, Xie Lian would immediately abandon all else he needed to do and tend to him the whole day. 

“It’s really nothing Dianxia,” He said, a crooked smile on his face. “This one just couldn’t focus properly without his beloved.”

“San Lang–” Xie Lian looked at him skeptically, clearly not buying the act. But before he could protest further, Hua Cheng gently took both his hands, clasping them in his own. 

“Didn’t Dianxia say he was in the middle of a meeting?” Hua Cheng asked, careful to keep his voice neutral. “You should go back.”

“No, that can wait–” 

Unlike usual, Hua Cheng cut his god off.

“Dianxia… Hasn’t the heavenly capital just begun the process of being properly rebuilt? I’m sure those fools are already in chaos now that you’ve left.” To be honest, if he could, he would keep his beloved with him forever. They would stay in their pile of blankets and pillows and his beloved’s robes. The throbbing in his stomach would ease and his clothes wouldn’t be sticking weirdly to his body anymore– anyway. The point was that as much as Hua Cheng loathed it, he couldn’t be the reason those heavenly trash gained another reason to scorn his god. He could never be the one to hold his god back with his own uselessness. 

Xie Lian’s face looked pained, torn between his husband’s wellbeing and the state of the heavens. Hua Cheng could see his dianxia’s emotions as well as his own, and before his beloved could argue again, he continued on. 

“Truly, this one will be fine,” Hua Cheng feigned a calm tone. “Won’t dianxia hurry and finish his business so his husband can spend the rest of the day with him?”

The prospect of being able to stay by Hua Cheng’s side for the rest of the day seemed to tempt Xie Lian, for the next moment he was hurriedly kissing Hua Cheng goodbye before returning to the heavens. 

As soon as the god had left, the coiling swirl of emotions returned. He was alone now. His beloved had left. He was too incompetent to even please his god. Oh how he wished he could call out to Xie Lian right now, to plead with him to come back and stay in their bed–where they would be safe. No. That wasn’t right. How could they be safe like this? The bed was too open and bare. Vulnerable. 

Hua Cheng’s brows furrowed at the thought. All that was on the bed were a few pillows and a single thick red sheet they used as a blanket. There weren’t even any canopy curtains to shield the bed. Mind set, Hua Cheng got to work. He left the bed, regardless of how his instincts were screaming at him to stay, and went to their shared walk in wardrobe.

It was a room of its own, really. Neatly lined stacks of red and white robes took up an entire section of the wardrobe, and though the number of red robes clearly overpowered the white ones, the number of white robes were no joke either, Hua Cheng having saved up for 800 years. Though, after they reunited, it was clear that Xie Lian preferred his white cultivator robes to anything more elaborate. Hua Cheng had managed however to coax his beloved into wearing a more quality version of his signature robes.

Another, larger section of the wardrobe was taken up by a numerous array of sheets, pillows, and blankets (they’d realised they needed quite a lot after their nightly activities). Making up his mind, Hua Cheng scooped everything he could reach into his arms, as well as stealing some of Xie Lian’s more recently worn clothing to add to his pile. He couldn’t help but place one robe that his dianxia had worn just yesterday to his nose, sniffing the material.

Unconsciously, he began vigorously rubbing the robe into his neck and wrists. As soon as he realised what he was doing, he pulled the robe away, his body increasing in heat. He mentally bemoaned the loss of scent on the clothing, not even noting until a few moments more had passed that the robe was now full of a different scent. It smelled similar to the sharp scent of ash mixed with a more cloying, sweet one, though it was milder, notes of jasmine were hidden under the stronger sweet smell. 

The scent made his freeze, his mind reeling through memories of… less pleasant days. But that musing didn’t last long. After all, he never had any reason to worry about that after dying, something he was immensely grateful for. He couldn’t imagine burdening his god with such an ailment. 

Pushing that thought out of his head, he walked back to the bed hurriedly and deposited the mountain of bedding onto it. Maybe this way, his dianxia wouldn’t be disappointed in him. Maybe he would even be proud if Hua Cheng did a good enough job of securing their safe space. With that thought in mind, he began placing the items in a circular shape in the middle of their bed, making sure to place the robes with a stronger scent on top or in the middle of the pile. Once he was done, he stepped back to look at his creation, only to immediately become distraught.

The blankets were placed all wrong, some spilled out of the shape he had originally placed them in. The sheets and pillows left small gaps in the circle. To top it off, nothing smelled right, save for the robes of his god. A frustrated growl ripped its way from his chest. How was he supposed to keep his beloved safe like this? Would his beloved even deem it worthy to enter?  

With shaky hands, Hua Cheng undid the arrangement. Redoing and undoing it over and over until he finally found the perfect position. Vigorously rubbing every piece of bedding against his wrists until they were all warm and of the same scent. 

Looking over the bed again, he released a heavy breath that he certainly didn’t need, a ghost of a smile making its way to his face. Carefully, he lowered himself in the middle of the pile, feeling much warmer and safer once he did. Though, a hollow feeling was still left. What use was all this if his beloved wasn’t here with him? 

That single thought sent him spiralling, his body began heating up again. This time, he hurriedly removed his robes until he was left in nothing but his inner pants, that feeling of robes sticking to his skin was one he didn’t want to experience again. That sticky heat covering his body. Pooling between his legs as he curled up against the side of an altar. 

The boy clutched an umbrella close to his chest, writhing on the floor of a dilapidated shrine. His hair fell in an uncomfortable curtain around his small body, sticking to his forehead and cheeks. Occasionally, people would come in, drawn in by the scent emanating from the boy’s form. He’d fought and struggled when they tried to touch him, clawing at their eyes and desperately striking at them with the crimson umbrella, but it only served to enhance their viciousness. Moisture threatened to spill from his eyes when they’d finally left, not at his own pain and humiliation–no. He shed tears for the gift given by his god that was so horribly tainted. 

When the feverish state ultimately ceased a few days later, the first thing the boy had done was rush to the nearby stream. He viciously scrubbed at the umbrella in a desperate attempt to wash off the blood and grime that had accumulated. He’d scrubbed his own body raw as well, hopelessly trying to rub off the remnants of foul hands. His legs ached, as did places–regardless of how used to pain he was–that he didn’t know could hurt. 

Glands on his wrist and neck throbbed continuously, used as they were in previous days. Of course he knew the things omegas had to suffer, just because of alpha “instincts”. He had, after all, spent the better part of his life as a child on the streets. His mother had to suffer through that, and his teeth still ground every time the memory surfaced. The boy loathed those who took advantage of others, but more than that, he loathed his own helplessness. He hated being weak. Feeling weak. How was he to someday protect his god when he failed to even protect himself?

Hua Cheng awoke with a start. Well, if he refused to acknowledge what was going on before, he certainly couldn’t deny it any longer now. Frustration and panic built in him at his own oversight. His body grew sweatier and his mind was beginning to turn fuzzy.

So fuzzy, in fact, that he wasn’t even able to fully comprehend the sound of knocking on the door, nor that door creaking open. 

“Ch-Chengzhu?!” Ah. Unfortunately, he was fully able to understand that one. 

“What.” He began, venom in his tone, “are you doing here?”

“Chengzhu… You’re–” The waning moon officer began again, only to be cut off by a glare from Hua Cheng, who was now burrowing deeper into the nest and using Xie Lian’s robes to cover his body. Yin Yu was a beta, but that didn’t stop the fact that Hua Cheng didn’t want anyone to see him like this. The designation would have been considered weak for a ruler, shameful even. So though he knew the officer wasn’t exactly one to go spreading this around, he still couldn’t help but try to hide it. 

“Get lost.” He growled, yet it came out much quieter than he had intended. Yin Yu shifted his mask to the side of his head, as if wanting to confirm what he was actually seeing. It wasn't long before he spoke up again in concern.

“Chengzhu, do you need me to call dianxia?” The tone was as monotonous as always, yet it seemed to be laced with uncertainty, as if he knew what the answer would be.

And he did.

“NO.” Hua Cheng snarled, his head emerged from the layers of bedding as he bared his sharp canines towards the waning moon officer. 

Yin Yu stood still, face even. 

“Understood,” he said simply, but he didn’t leave. Instead, the waning moon officer dug through his pockets before producing a bottle of small white pills. Noticing Hua Cheng glancing over wearily, he continued speaking tonelessly. “Suppressants, chengzhu.” 

“Why…” Hua Cheng began, eyes narrowing. As far as he knew, his officer was a beta, so why would he be carrying around heat suppressants? 

Yin Yu moved to the bedside table to place the bottle there, careful to stay a respectful distance away. 

“A habit from long ago, chengzhu. Many members of my sect were omegas; Yizhen included.” Yin Yu answered, voice dying down near the end of his sentence. Hua Cheng only scoffed at the information.

“Hah, that brute?” The officer's eyes drifted back to the ghost at the words, though not intrusively.

“The suppressants,” he began, voice careful, “cannot stop heat entirely, but they can delay its effects.” ‘Until dianxia returns’ was left unsaid, but judging by the supreme’s glare, the message was certainly received. 

Hua Cheng stared at the small glass bottle for a long while, his expression unreadable. It was very likely that the suppressants would do little for a powerful ghost such as himself, but he was truly reaching his wits end. Why his heat had suddenly returned, he had no idea, but an ingrained instinct in him knew that this moment of lucidity before he entered a full heat wouldn’t last for much longer. With a shuffle of fabric, the bottle was stolen from its place on the nightstand, only to come back completely empty. 

Yin Yu’s eyes widened at the action, a startled “Chengzhu?!” Leaving his lips as he processes what just happened. The suppressants were usually meant to be taken one at a time at the beginning of the heat to mitigate its effects. Though he knew that the ghost in front of him was a powerful one of devastation rank, who knew what the pills could do to his newly reappeared hormones? Ghosts hormones and scents were naturally subdued, but death didn’t fully strip their presentation away. 

The sweet smell in the room suddenly grew tenfold, although Yin Yu, as a beta, couldn’t tell. However, he could see the minute change in Hua Cheng’s posture. The tightening of shoulders, the complete stillness. 

“Chengzhu?” He attempted to inquire, but all he received in response was a muffled whimper. 

The room twisted and blurred as Hua Cheng attempted to get his eye to focus. The steady warmth from the morning now reaching a beyond feverish quality. It was hot. Too hot. He struggled to get his thoughts in order as he kicked off the robe above him, only to be hit with a sense of wrongness at the loss of that clear osmanthus and strong sandalwood. The ghost hurriedly brought the robe back, bringing the cloth to the swollen skin at his wrists and neck.

Slick dripped down his legs at the action. He pressed the fabric deeper into his rubbed raw skin, as if trying to drown himself within it. Hua Cheng wanted nothing more at the moment than for that scent to completely envelop him, swallow him whole, to let it consume him until not even a ghost fire was left. To him, that would be the ultimate bliss. However, as soon as that fragrance seeped into his skin, it was overshadowed by another smell. Sickly sweet. He felt the sudden urge to throw up.

He could feel the rush of something trying to suppress his glands, but to no avail. His heat was already in full bloom. If lucky, Hua Cheng could get a moment or two of lucidness, but there was no helping what would come after, The air thickened with desperate need. Not just for a knot of the opposite presentation, but the deep rooted craving for affection.

Hua Cheng had wanted his whole life–even more since meeting his god–to be seen as something that mattered. To be treated as something. In the past, when such feelings arose, he would dig through the few tender encounters he had. The melodious voice of a woman singing, calling him by an affectionate nickname. Hong-er. He would remember strong arms holding his battered body, telling him it wasn’t his fault. Reminisce of the deep fulfillment that came from protecting his beloved with all his life. The happiness when he had first died on a battlefield, knowing he had finally been useful. The gratification that came from being ripped to shreds, and bursting into thousands of butterflies with his god still holding his body. 

But this time, even those memories failed to ground him. Hua Cheng had always been greedy. A street rat begging for affection, dirtying pristine robes, chasing after a beloved he would never be able to catch up to. But now he had. An eight century year game of chase, and contrary to his expectation, his beloved welcomed his affections with open arms, going so far as to reciprocate them. Hua Cheng had attained all that there was to gain in his existence, yet he continued to long for more.

He told himself that if dianxia didn’t want him by his side, then he was fine just watching from afar–but now. Now, he couldn’t help but want to bask in his god’s grace every waking moment of the day. To submit to sturdy arms that he knew could–and would–hold him up. Truly, Hua Cheng was far too greedy. Greedier still to wish that his god were with him right now. That dianxia would accept even this disgraceful part of him. 

The sweet scent blanketing the room was now combined with bitterness, almost painful in its intensity. Barely concealed under his sticky skin, the heat felt like a raging fire. The mild reprieve offered by the suppressants was now completely diminished. Panicked, Hua Cheng’s hand roamed back over to the nightstand. More–he needed more. The bottle toppled over in his grip, empty. Foolish. Why was he so foolish? The ghost’s mind spiralled in its self deprecation. Logic fraying at the edges. He needed to be useful. To protect.

He needed–

The door slammed open, the sound muffled under the haze of his mind. 

Belatedly, he realised the waning moon officer was no longer in the room. 

A rush of a familiar fragrance swept through the haze of his mind like a tide breaking a dam–osmanthus and sandalwood. Clear and untainted. Real. 

Hua Cheng flinched, the fire under his skin flaring hotter in response, drawing him towards it. Unneeded breaths were coming out in sharp gasps, before choking into a sob. His god was here. His beloved. His reason for existence–was currently watching his pathetic form, all sticky with sweat, crying like a child. He grabbed whatever sheets were nearest him, using them to cocoon his body until he was sure he would suffocate if mortal. 

Xie Lian stayed silent. Unmoving. Hua Cheng waited for it to finally snap–to be hit with the repulsion that he surely deserved. All this time, he had never thought to inquire over his beloved’s presentation. Whether from fear or reverence. He had avoided the question entirely. It didn’t matter. Prince, god, mortal. Whether omega, alpha, or in between, none of it would change the unwavering devotion in Hua Cheng’s heart. 

But how would his beloved see him now? A disgusting lump smothered in sheets and the god’s own robes. Would he find the nest distasteful? Unsatisfactory? 

Would Xie Lian still accept him, after witnessing all this? The question pressed heavier on his chest than the heat and bedding he had smothered himself with. The sound of slow footsteps approached him; he braced himself for aversion.

And then–

“San Lang,” The voice was quiet, almost reverent in a way. Two syllables speaking of greater longing than poetry. But what if Hua Cheng was hearing things? What if heat had finally made him delusional, hearing only what he wanted to. 

“Dianxia, don't," He rasped, voice cracking. “Don’t come closer.”

But the footsteps didn’t stop. They continued slowly, with deliberate care in each one. 

“San Lang,” Xie Lian repeated, almost a whisper. “It’s alright now. I’m here.”

The nest rustled violently as Hua Cheng attempted to conceal every part of his sweaty body, covered in various fluids. He could smell his god–Xie Lian. It was stronger now, a scent free of fear or disgust–it was too much. Hua Cheng was far too greedy, he feared that if his beloved came any closer, he would taint that unsullied existence. Every step drove through the need encompassing his body, he needed more. And that was the problem. 

“I said don’t–” Hua Cheng’s voice cracked once more, his voice weaker, a borderline whimper escaping his throat. “Dianxia shouldn’t get any closer. It’s shameful.” 

“Shameful for who, San Lang?” Came an immediate response, voice still soft, Xie Lian continued. “For me, or for you?” 

And well… Just how was he supposed to answer that? The first would suggest that his god was the shameful one–and while thick-faced at times–his beloved could never be considered that. But the second would suggest it was him who was shameful for letting his beloved close. And he knew that could only ever be a blessing. His god truly was too smart. Xie Lian always had a way of unravelling Hua Cheng’s defenses with so few words. Always calm and soft, never sharp, never chastising, just there. 

An unbearable silence permeated the room, before being broken by a soft sigh. The sound was gentle, almost fond. As if Hua Cheng’s pitiful state was no more than an endearing child’s silly mess–perhaps a little inconvenient, but no less deserving of love. The thought itself ripped a violent shudder from the ghost’s chest. 

Then, the bed dipped. Not quite near the nest, but close enough that its grounding presence could be felt. A shift of weight, but no sudden movements, no tearing away the sheets that covered Hua Cheng and made up his nest. Hua Cheng froze, clenching his fists as if it would keep his body from trembling. He didn’t remove the bedding to finally sneak a glance of the very existence he longed for. Thankfully, he didn’t have to bear the tense silence for long before his beloved finally spoke up. 

“I came back as fast as I could.” A pause then, “I should have never left.”

Hua Cheng choked on an unnecessary breath, tears streaming down his cheeks continuously as he bit his lip to muffle the sound. He didn’t want to be like this in front of his god, pathetic. But his emotions felt amplified more than ever. “Dianxia shouldn’t have come back,” Hua Cheng whispered so quietly he wasn’t sure if it would be heard. “You shouldn’t have to see this lowly one like this.”

Silence reigned again, and Hua Cheng was so sure that Xie Lian would finally leave, fed up by his stubborn patheticness–

“Then when should I see you, San Lang?” 

Hua Cheng's lips parted, but he couldn’t answer. The question turned over in his mind–when would it ever be ‘appropriate’ for the only god that ever mattered to bear witness to a lowly being such as himself. 800 years of constant building up couldn't strip him of his birth, neither could all the achievements he had attained over that period of time. 

Xie Lian continued to speak, voice so tender it almost ripped Hua Cheng’s heart into millions of tiny shards. “When you’re powerful? As the great ghost king, crimson rain sought flower? To me, you’re not the infamous ‘Hua Cheng’, but just my San Lang. My beloved.”

Hua Cheng’s voice choked on a sob as he hurried to reply. “I’m not worth that,” he croaked. “I should be strong. To protect you–not… not need you.”

Xie Lian’s voice was as patient as always as he spoke, “San Lang, but weren’t you the one who said: ‘you don’t need to be strong every waking moment of every day’? It’s the same for me. You may have known me for eight centuries longer than I have, but I too wish to understand and know every part of you.” His soft voice continued on, as if worried that Hua Cheng would find more self deprecating words to counter him with. “No part of you could ever be shameful to me. And if you continue to insist that it is, I couldn’t be more willing to share that shame.” 

Hua Cheng’s eye widened at the words as a whimper escaped his throat. His grip on the bedding faltered. A wave of strong pheromones suddenly emanated from where Xie Lian was, they were sweet, yet that musky undertone couldn’t be hidden, nor could the effect it had on Hua Cheng. He sucked in a sharp gasp, did that mean the god was..?

Xie Lian seemed to have tracked the motion, “Ah? I take it that worked then?” The smile couldn’t be held from the words as Xie Lian moved his hand to stroke the covers that lay on top of Hua Cheng. “You’ll have to forgive me, San Lang. I’ve never had to do this so it may not be as potent.”

But what could Hua Cheng forgive when the fragrance soothed the unforgiving warmth on his body, slowly diminishing the strange bitterness of his scent as well. The ghost whimpered again, though it no longer held the desperation that it previously had. It was a soft sound, not borne of the warmth of heat but something else.

Gradually, a pale hand slipped out of the covers, brushing against a tanner one, hard calluses born from years of manual labour. Xie Lian did not pull away, instead he lay his slightly smaller hand upon Hua Cheng’s unusually warm one. Their fingers naturally laced together as a peaceful moment of silence enveloped them, only broken again by a soft whisper.

“There you are,” Xie Lian murmured before pausing. He continued in an even smaller tone than before, “beloved.” 

The god seemed to be without a care as he continued to stroke that pale hand leisurely. He thought for a moment, before bringing the swollen skin of the wrist to glands on his neck, uncovering more of that arm out of the bedding as he did so. 

Hua Cheng sighed softly as that clear scent ran over his wrist, washing over his skin like salve to a burn wound. He shuddered violently as the hand on his wrist continued to insistently rub it against that smooth throat. The ghost was sure of what sort of picture he must make by now–sweat running over his whole body as slick poured down his thighs, needy from the smallest of touches–but Hua Cheng was a greedy man. And so he’d allow himself to take this. He’d take all that his beloved was willing to bestow upon him. 

“Beloved,” Xie Lian repeated, this time into the palm of the ghost’s hand. The scent he exuded grew deeper, warmer, more focused. Alpha.

Hua Cheng’s heart thundered in his chest. “You…” he began, voice hesitant. “You’re an alpha?”

“I am,” Xie Lian replied calmly. “I thought perhaps you knew.”

“I didn’t… want to assume. Whatever my god had presented as would never matter to me.” Hua Cheng paused then, before continuing in his usual sly tone. “Besides, gege took the receiving role so well I never would have guessed…”

“San Lang!” Came an immediate, flustered reply as the god burst out coughing. A moment of silence reigned—though not nearly as tense as previously—before Xie Lian continued fondly, tone positively dripping in affection. “I’m glad you’re back.”

“Hmm?” Hua Cheng hummed in confusion as his brain slumped deeper into heat, kudos of the warm pheromones.

“Back to calling me ‘gege’...” Xie Lian stroked the ghost's hand as he continued. “Did you know, San Lang? You have a habit of only calling me dianxia when you’re in a bad mood.”

Hua Cheng’s eye widened, before it began watering. Just how much attention must his beloved have paid to him to notice all these minute details? It seemed that in just this one month, Xie Lian could read the ghost like the back of his hand, always seeming to know his emotions and how to unravel them. The god’s hand never faltered in its gentle rhythm, rubbing soothing circles into Hua Cheng's skin as if to coax out all the emotions that lay within. “San Lang..You don’t have to hide. Not from me. Not ever.”

“Even if this one is dirty and pathetic?” Hua Cheng whispered, though there was a distinct bite in his tone. 

“Especially if you’re dirty and pathetic.” The god’s voice was oddly firm, but gentle as he added, “let me take care of you, beloved.”

And how was Hua Cheng supposed to continue to restrain himself after that? Tears flowed freely as the ghost clutched his beloved’s hand like a lifeline, ripping aside the sheets covering him to bring that hand to his bare, aching chest. He didn’t even realise he was shaking until Xie Lian leaned it closer, into his nest–into his nest! 

 A fresh flush of heat rippled through the ghost’s dishevelled body as the bedding around him eagerly soaked up Xie Lian’s scent. A nest was an omega’s most comforting and precious space. It was where they could keep their loved ones near them–protected.

Hua Cheng’s instincts positively preened as the god leaned closer, head a constant litany of mine, mine, mine– It echoed through his mind, fueled by needs hidden within the deepest part of his instincts. Though another part of him couldn’t help but feel doubtful again. Was his nest—the mess it was—truly fit for his god? Would his god feel that it was too messy? Too dirty? Or would he refuse it altogether–

“Breath, my San Lang,” a hand stroked his cheek gently, brushing away stray tears with so much reverence that his hyperventilating ceased before he could process what was happening. Xie Lian laughed, a short breathy thing. Hua Cheng was once again struck with just how beautiful his beloved was in many ways–in every way. 

“San Lang,” Xie Lian began, voice so oddly solemn that Hua Cheng’s nonexistent heartbeat started racing. “Would you allow me into your nest? I know a nest is an omega’s most valued place. I don’t mean to assume if you would be comfortable but—”

“Yes.” Hua Cheng sounded breathless—was breathless—as he cut off the god’s nervous rambling. Heat crept up and through every vein in his body at the mere prospect of Xie Lian wanting to enter his nest, his mind was fuzzy as he continued to ramble on, “yes, yes, yes. Gege, dianxia, beloved, please. Please, pleasepleaseplease.” 

Hua Cheng eagerly circled the gods lithe waist with his bare arms, as if wanting to melt their bodies together—and he did, to some extent. Xie Lian chuckled at his begging, clinging ghost, heart full of such fondness he was sure it would burst.

“Ah…But with San Lang trapping me so, how ever will this one join my omega in his nest?” 

Hua Cheng really thought he might die again from hearing those words, and he voiced as much in a small, whiny tone. “Gege… you truly will be the death of me.”

“None of that San Lang…” The god trailed off, absentmindedly running his fingers through the ghost’s hair before he spoke again in a faint whisper, “I would much prefer it if my beloved chose to live for me instead.”

Hua Cheng’s heart ached with so, so much love, even more so as Xie Lian slid his callused hands under the ghost’s body. His touch was both comforting and steady as the god’s strong arms gently guided Hua Cheng back down onto the bedding, before settling in next to him. Slick poured down his legs at the action, but he couldn’t care less. How could he? With his perfect god right next to him, in his nest, so accepting of every part of him. His lower stomach chose that very moment to return with the cramps, causing him to wince slightly. But of course even that wouldn’t escape his god’s notice.

“San Lang?” Xie Lian’s voice was as soft as always, yet laced with an undercurrent of urgency. His fingers cupped the side of Hua Cheng’s face, “What is it? Are you in pain?”

Hua Cheng mentally chastised himself for making his god worry over a small inconvenience such as cramps, he bit his lip as another wave hit him, though that only caused to make Xie Lian more frantic. 

“It’s nothing gege…just–” He cut himself off, slightly embarrassed at being so affected by such a trivial thing. But Xie Lian wasn’t having it.

“Just what San Lang?” He said anxiously, unaccustomed to seeing the ghost in pain. “Are you injured? Did something happen? Is this an effect of the… heat?” He said the last part quietly, not used to talking about such subjects. He had learned about heats and ruts of course… just not what they… entailed. With his cultivation path, Xie Lian had suppressed his ruts all his life, until it became second nature. However, he felt a bit embarrassed at his own lack of knowledge now, as well as his lack of ruts. He didn’t even know if he could get a knot—was it supposed to happen naturally? 

As Xie Lian was lost in his panicking, Hua Cheng wore a funny expression on his face. Could it be that…His god didn’t know what occurred during heats? Oh his innocent, oblivious god, so worried over an incurable, natural ailment. He felt the fondness in his heart growing by leaps and bounds every second he spent with this silly man, as well as the desire to tease him.

“Mn.. It is gege…” Hua Cheng whined, a pitiful expression upon his face which only fed Xie Lian’s anxiety. “It hurts terribly, I'm afraid… Though, there is a cure.” He trailed off towards the end, trying so hard to hold back a sly smirk.

Xie Lian’s face was serious as he spoke while nodding vigorously, “anything, San Lang.”

“Anything, gege? How dangerous~” Xie Lian was filled with a sudden sense of deja vu, as well as the feeling of not knowing whether to laugh or cry, but it was already too late. “Well if gege insists, I suppose I’ll just have to let him know, hm?”

Xie Lian’s expression looked hesitant, but he nodded nevertheless.

“The cure is simple gege,” Hua Cheng whispered, leaning close to Xie Lian’s ear, pausing for dramatic effect before he decided to continue languidly. “An alpha’s knot.” 

Xie Lian froze. His mouth opened and closed as if wanting to say something, before settling on covering his flushed face with both hands and burrowing into Hua Cheng’s bare chest. Although the ghost couldn’t see the god’s face from this angle, he could see the bright red of the latter’s ears. Hua Cheng could hardly conceal the wicked grin that spread across his face at the reaction. He tilted his face innocently, feigning concern despite the mischievous glimmer in his eye. “Gege?” He practically purred. “You promised anything didn’t you?” 

Hua Cheng’s increasingly foggy mind began its endless reeling again as the god stayed silent—what if Xie Lian wasn’t comfortable with that? He had only ever taken the other role since their marriage. Was he being too bold by asking? What if—

“I…” Xie Lian made a small, helpless sound, doing nothing to diffuse Hua Cheng’s panic. That’s it, his beloved would leave him wouldn’t he?—-“I hope San Lang knows I've never done this before but…I wouldn’t be opposed to trying. That is, if you would have me.” 

There it was—Wait what??! 

Hua Cheng blinked. For a moment, his thoughts ground to a halt, his sly grin fading to something halfway between disbelief and wonder. He lay there in silence for a moment, his mind unable to comprehend what had just happened. Then it sank in. 

Xie Lian—his precious beloved, so unlike other forceful alphas he had the misfortune of encountering in the past—wasn’t rejecting him. He wasn’t disgusted or put off, he was nervous, accepting—and more than a bit flustered. But he was willing.

“I…What?” Hua Cheng finally managed, blinking rapidly. “You…would?” 

Xie Lian finally peeked up from Hua Cheng’s chest, his lashes framed his face as he looked up. “Of course I would San Lang…” Xie Lian trailed off, as if unsure how to continue. “I know omegas can get heat-addled and make choices they regret… so I want to make sure San Lang is sure of this.”

Hua Cheng stared at his beloved in confusion, Xie Lian was hesitating…for him? While it was true Hua Cheng was finding it harder and harder to keep focus, mind wanting to drift off into subspace now that he and his beloved were safe in his nest, this was a choice Hua Cheng had already made a thousand times over while sober. To give every part of himself to his god, to let him do with it as he pleased. Whether to cherish or break was always up to his beloved, though he knew Xie Lian would never even see the latter as an option. But for Xie Lian to so explicitly ask for his consent…

Before, he was so sure that an omega’s heat pheromones were what caused an alpha to go crazy for them, that it was a curse he was born with and had to bear. Looking at his beloved now, so full of concern over his well being, he was beginning to think that the men back then weren’t addled by his pheromones at all, but just bastards. His heart darkened at the thought, but he pushed it away in favour of returning to his god.  

Even if his mind was fuzzy; body feverishly warm. Hua Cheng knew one thing with aching clarity—he trusted Xie Lian. With every fibre of his being, and he was willing to entrust all that he had to his beloved, even the parts the ever elusive ghost king chose to keep locked away. He was willing—happy even—to strip himself bare before his god, to unveil even the most hidden parts. 

“...Yes,” he whispered, voice hoarse with emotion as he leaned in close to his beloved. “I want gege in every way he is willing to offer.”

Xie Lian smiled at the words, stroking a hand through unruly hair, he whispered,  “Well then, San Lang will have me in every way he desires.” 

With the strength only a martial god could possess, Xie Lian swiftly switched their positions, until he was straddling the ghost’s thin hips. Hua Cheng felt a wave of heat wash over him at the blatant display of strength—which only grew as his beloved took his face in his hand and leaned down to press their lips together. 

Oh–whatever inhibitions Hua Cheng may have had before quickly evaporated at the warm slide of his god’s mouth against his own. Almost unintentionally, the ghost deepened the kiss, looping sweaty arms around Xie Lian’s neck as his mind grew hot and muddled. He lost himself in that velvety warmth, utterly undone by the god’s gentle caresses. His fingers curled into the fabric of Xie Lian’s robes, desperately tugging on them so he could feel his beloved’s skin. 

Xie Lian kissed him slowly all the while, thorough in his soft ministrations as he ran his fingers down the length of Hua Cheng’s side and back up again. It was maddening. The fever in the ghost’s body blazed needily, but he didn’t dare push for more.

“You’re burning up,” Xie Lian murmured as he left Hua Cheng’s lips to instead place a firm kiss on his sweaty forehead. He brought his hands up to stroke the ghost’s warm cheeks, while Hua Cheng looked up at him with a half lidded gaze. Xie Lian spoke again as he gently dabbed at the sweat gathering on the ghost’s body with his sleeves, “Poor thing, have you been dealing with this alone?”

Hua Cheng's head cleared up minutely at the words. How was he supposed to answer that? This heat had been unexpected—suddenly crashing into him again after 800 years. He hadn’t had a proper heat since his death, the fever induced by the opening of Mount Tonglu the closest it had gotten.

Was the heat a result of his recent consummation of marriage with Xie Lian, or was it another matter entirely? Nevertheless, his brain was too foggy at the present moment to contemplate this peculiarity, preferring to instead bask in the presence and comfort of his god. But it wasn’t as if he could ignore his beloved’s question either, so he gave the most honest answer he could at the moment.

“I…I don’t know,” he whispered, brow furrowing as he tried to make sense of his hazy thoughts. “It’s been so long… I thought they were gone for good.”

Xie Lian’s expression softened as he brushed sweaty locks of hair off the ghost’s forehead. “But they’re not,” he whispered. “And you’ve been suffering alone, haven’t you?”

Hua Cheng’s throat tightened as he swallowed. He averted his gaze from Xie Lian’s unfathomably soft one. How was he to admit that he had seen all the signs, from the very beginning, but refused to accept them for what they were? Xie Lian’s tender gaze was ripping him apart, until nothing could be left uncovered. 

A shiver racked his body; Hua Cheng curled his hand tighter into his beloved’s robes. “I wasn’t…I didn’t…” his brow furrowed at his own inability to completely articulate his thoughts, it didn’t help either that his mind felt like a dead weight. “I didn’t… realise it was a heat.” He settled on finally. Xie Lian’s eyes softened as he took in the ghost’s distraught expression.

“Oh, San Lang,” Xie Lian murmured, leaning down to press a lingering kiss to Hua Cheng’s brow—the one above his eyepatch. “You don’t have to hide from me. Heat or not. San Lang knows I would gladly leave anything I'm doing to care for my beloved.”

Hua Cheng made to argue, but his beloved beat him to it, “Perhaps San Lang’s instincts have finally realised that he is safe now—loved.” Xie Lian’s eyes creased into crescents as a wide grin formed on his face, one that stole Hua Cheng’s breath every time he witnessed it. 

And his breath was stolen yet again. Unshed tears welled in his eyes as the ghost wound his arms around the god’s neck. Xie Lian came down easily as Hua Cheng pressed their mouths together with a newfound desperation.

This was his beloved, who he had waited 800 years for. His beloved, who was perfect in every way. His beloved, who was willing to be with him. And Hua Cheng wanted it so bad. To intertwine their bodies so closely that their individual souls could not be distinguished from the other. He wanted to give all of himself to his god as an offering—and a selfish part of himself hoped he would be permitted to take just as much in response. 

Their frenzied kisses soon grew to a feverish intensity, so strong that Xie Lian had to pull away to heave for breaths as the ghost’s glossed over eye traced his form with a dark expression. 

Xie Lian panted softly, his face turning as bright a crimson as the sheets he was surrounded by. Hua Cheng’s grip was unrelenting from where his arms sat against the god’s neck, insistently pushing their bodies together. Xie Lian attempted to push his body away slightly, gently peeling off those arms on his neck, prompting Hua Cheng to whine petulantly while tightening his grip. “Ah…San Lang,” The god sighed, fondness filling his tone. “I just need to get the oil, okay? I won’t be very long” 

“Oil?” Hua Cheng echoed, brows furrowed in confusion. Xie Lian only nodded in confirmation, face strangely serious.

“Yes, I want to make sure my beloved is comfortable.” He gave Hua Cheng a quick peck before reaching over to their bedside table, careful not to disturb the nest as he did so. However, before his hand could cross the distance, it was caught by the ghost. Hua Cheng pressed that hand to his lips as he huffed in exasperation—though it came out more like a low chuckle. 

“Gege, we don’t need that,” Hua Cheng murmured, a sly grin curling his lips. Xie Lian blinked. Once. Twice. His doe eyes were wide as a puzzled frown made its way onto his face. The sight looked almost comical as Xie Lian tilted his head in question, silky hair slipping over a white robed shoulder as he did so. Hua Cheng found it adorable. 

“San Lang, you deserve comfort—” Xie Lian was cut off by a small snicker that Hua Cheng really couldn’t hold back any longer. 

“Gege, beloved… Really, this one doesn’t deserve you.” Xie Lian parted his lips to argue at the last statement but found himself breathless at the look in the ghost’s eye, one that spoke of a yearning and belief so deep that nothing could cause it to waver. Hua Cheng’s grin widened as he readjusted his grip on the god’s hand, ignoring his beloved’s flustered sputtering as he guided it down lower. Down to the noticeably soaked through cloth of pants. 

Xie Lian's hand froze as it came into contact with that wetness before it pushed further to the source of it. “Oh,” He murmured eloquently as his brain caught up with his actions. Hua Cheng only smirked with a mischievous glint in his eye as he pressed down into the god’s hand, rolling his hips to emphasize the slickness beneath his robes. Xie Lian swallowed audibly as a red flush overtook his face, spreading down to his neck and chest as well. The scent of osmanthus and sandalwood intensified in the air.

 “See gege? I told you we don’t need the oil,” Hua Cheng paused, eye darkening. “This one is already so wet for–” The ghost’s eye blew wide open as a hand clapped over his mouth—a hand dripping with slick. 

Xie Lian’s already rosy face seemed to flush to a dangerous degree as he realised what he had just done, “A-ah! Sorry San Lang.” Hurriedly, he pulled his hand away, but the ghost only grabbed his wrist and brought the hand back to his mouth. Slowly, he took the wet fingers in his mouth, lazily tracing each line and knuckle with his tongue.

A small whimper escaped Xie Lian’s throat, and he quickly bit down on his lips in hopes of preventing the sound escaping—it did not work. Hua Cheng let out an amused chuckle as he finally released the god’s hand.  

“So sensitive, gege,” he purred, though it was clear by the rasp of his voice that he was no less affected. The fire in his body was burning stronger by the moment; it was clear that this lucidness would be short lived—he would soon succumb to the depths of his heat. Xie Lian seemed to notice the minute change in his behaviour, expression immediately creasing into one of worry.

“Are you sure you’re okay San Lang? Do you need anything before–while–we, um” The god made a vague gesture with his hands, but he deftly clasped his hands together when he realised what he was doing. 

“All this one needs at the moment is gege,” Hua Cheng murmured. A hint of a smile lingered at his mouth, but the expression held less of mischief now. Rather, it seemed quite dazed. His hair was spread out under his like a fan, dishevelled strands clinging to his cheeks and forehead. The glands on his neck were red and swollen from being suppressed so long. 

Xie Lian’s gaze lingered on those raised bumps, a sharp contrast to Hua Cheng’s pale, smooth skin. It wasn’t until that moment that something clicked.

When he’d stepped into the room earlier, a sweet smell had immediately caught his attention. It smelled like incense, though it was subtly floral. Xie Lian found he quite liked it. However, between that moment and trying to aid his husband, he hadn’t noticed the loss of that fragrance. The scent still lingered on the bedding, but it was smothered by layers of osmanthus and sandalwood–Xie Lian’s own scent. 

He had simply assumed that Hua Cheng’s scent was naturally subtle when not under the control of heat, or that it had been overtaken by the mingling of their pheromones. But now, staring down at those swollen glands, Xie Lian couldn’t help his heart clenching in realisation. His expression was complicated as he spoke. 

“San Lang…” he began quietly, reaching to brush his thumb along the glands, “why have you been suppressing your scent?” 

Hua Cheng—though addled by his heat—immediately froze at the words. His eye widened slightly, coming up to Xie Lian’s face as if to search for something, before falling back down. 

“It’s disgusting,” Hua Cheng began, voice trembling with emotion. “Gege shouldn’t have to bear with such a putrid stench.”

It was as if a knife clenched into Xie Lian’s heart at the words.

“No,” he said firmly, voice coming out harsher than he had intended. 

“No.” He repeated again, gentler this time. Xie Lian leaned in, pressing his lips to those swollen glands in a soft reverent touch. What he couldn’t assure in words, he hoped to be able to convey in his actions. His lips left the sweaty skin for a brief moment, before coming down on the other side. The god repeated these actions over and over, each kiss soft yet intentional—like a prayer embedding itself within Hua Cheng’s very skin. 

The ghost trembled. His breath hitched as he forcefully shut his eye. Just when he had assumed he had moved past it all. Just when he had thought that he was finally strong enough to protect his beloved. He hadn’t wanted to show this weak, fragile part of him that he’d thought he’d moved past to anyone—especially not his god. 

Though they hadn’t even been reunited for that long, Hua Cheng knew he was putting up a front the whole time. Since that very first meeting in the ox cart. Being reborn through the kiln in Mount Tonglu had made him feel that he was finally adequate enough, but he knew that nothing had changed.  In reality, he was still afraid. Afraid of never being able to protect his god. 

But looking at those clear golden eyes now, void of disgust, his mind cleared a little. This was his god who was ever determined to reassure him. His beloved who he had gone through hell for and he knew would go through the same for him. Strangely, being weak now, in this situation, didn’t feel all that bad. 

Though those voices of his past never dissipated through all these years, he never once found himself doubting Xie Lian’s actions. Silently, Hua Cheng released the building pressure of spiritual energy he had been directing towards his throat, and Xie Lian’s face immediately lit up as he did so.

Leaning down, the god placed a soft kiss on the ghost’s forehead. 

“There’s my San Lang,” he said as he beamed down at the ghost king like sunrays upon a neglected flower. “I know you’re strong, but you don’t have to be strong every waking moment of the day.” The words were nostalgic and Hua Cheng’s eyes widened  at hearing his own words repeated back to him. Finally, the room was overflowing with that scent that was a mix of both sharp and sweet. Only this time, the fragrance blended together with the other scent, overlapping to create a warm blend. Though the scents themselves were extremely different, somehow, they managed to merge together perfectly.

“Gege…” Hua Cheng whispered as pure adoration filled him, as well as a desire for…more. He was a selfish being, he wouldn’t deny that. But he doubted that anybody would be able to hold back in the face of such evident devotion. 

Xie Lian cupped his cheek as he swept away sticky strands of inky hair, “tell me what you need, San Lang. I’ll give it to you. Anything”

All of Hua Cheng’s self control snapped at those words, his eye going glassy and dark. 

“Mark me.” He breathed, the words coming out almost unintentionally. Of course, it wasn’t something he had to think twice about, having been something that he had been fantasising about for close to 800 years now. But to think that it could ever really come true? Well, that was beyond even his wildest fantasies.

Xie Lian’s heart warmed at the breathy plea.

“I thought that much was obvious by now, San Lang?” Xie Lian chuckled, taking a deliberate pause before he began slowly speaking again. “Though I know this may not be very conventional… I hope that San Lang will also comply with a request of mine?”

“Naturally, I will agree to any request that Gege asks of me.”

“Then, would San Lang…” Xie Lian’s voice trailed off near the end, before he took a deep breath and finished the rest of the sentence hurriedly. “Would San Lang also mark me?”

Hua Cheng’s eyes widened slightly. The request was indeed unconventional. Though an omega marking an alpha wasn’t unheard of, it was usually only done the other way around as a show of power and standing. Not to mention the fact that an omega’s bite wasn’t permanent the way an alpha’s was.

“Although I have no objection,” Hua Cheng began, tracing Xie Lian’s expression closely. “Gege knows that it won’t stay?” 

His voice cracked embarrassingly at the end of the sentence, as if pained that he couldn’t give his god what he wanted.

Xie lian noticed the change in the ghost’s tone, immediately speaking again to clarify.

“Ah that’s not what I meant, San Lang…” Xie Lian cleared his throat before continuing. “Just as San Lang would belong to me after the process, I would also like to belong to you. Besides, we can always renew it as many times as we need!”

The ghost smirked at the implications of the last sentence while the god’s face only reddened as he realised what he had said. 

“Well then Gege,” Hua Cheng purred. “We ought to hurry up and get you that mark, hm?” 

Xie Lian’s face turned redder than the ghost’s signature robes at the words, but he complied nonetheless, leaning in to mouth at Hua Cheng’s neck.

“San lang will have to guide me through this,” Xie Lian’s words were muffled by the ghost’s neck. “I want to make sure this feels good for you.”  

“Gege’s doing perfect already,” came a swift, somewhat breathless response.

Xie lian licked and sucked down Hua Cheng’s chest, attempting to replicate the ghost’s former actions. 

He grazed his teeth lightly over one collarbone, earning him a sharp gasp. Encouraged by the noise, he moved down lower to one dusty pink bud, taking it in his mouth and softly sucking it. He moved to do the same with the other, all the while observing the ghost’s increasingly hurried panting. 

Hua Cheng threw an arm over his eyes as Xie lian bit down around one of his pecs, arching his back into the god’s mouth. 

“Gege, gege,” the ghost chanted helplessly, he had been painfully erect for a while now, and the lack of release was finally starting to get to him. Xie Lian left Hua Cheng’s chest to instead kiss the ghost, elbows resting on either side of the ghost’s head as he did so, though he was careful not to put pressure on his beloved’s hair. 

“What do you need, beloved?” Xie Lian murmured into the kiss, smiling as he took in the ghost’s dazed expression. Strong thighs wrapped around the god’s body as a choked off voice spoke.

“Gege, please—“ Hua Cheng groaned, rolling his hips against Xie Lian’s own. “Please, inside—“

The ghost was cut off by a loud rip, amplified by the quiet of the large room. Hua Cheng stared, dumbstruck, at his pants.

Or… where his pants had once been. Xie Lian revealed a sheepish grin as he held on to the tattered remains of the ghost’s trousers. 

“Haha, sorry San Lang,” Xie Lian truly did not know whether to laugh or cry at the situation. “I was really only trying to get them out of the way! But then— San Lang, are you laughing??”

“Pffftt,” Hua Cheng's eyes watered as his restrained laughter came pouring out, filling the room as he laughed boisterously. 

“I didn’t know Gege was that eager to deflower this poor ghost!”

Xie Lian spluttered in indignation, “w-what? Deflower??” 

The god’s face was so hot one might’ve attempted to fry an egg on it. Xie Lian let out a whine as he buried his face in the ghost’s chest, but as he did so, he felt something hard poking against his stomach. 

Without lifting his head from the warmth of his beloved’s chest, the god asked curiously, “San Lang, did you bring E-Ming here? I could have sworn that…” Xie Lian’s voice died down as he finally took a glance downwards, where something hard, and flushed an angry red—-that was definitely not E-Ming—-stood upright.

Though Xie Lian’s face heated at the realisation, he truly did feel bad for letting his ghost go neglected for so long. Removing his face from the ghost’s chest and sitting upright, he reached his pale fingers towards that length, instantaneously earning a moan from Hua Cheng as he did so. 

“Ah…I’ve neglected my beloved for so long,” Xie Lian said as he moved downwards, until both his elbows were resting beside the ghost’s hips. “Won’t you let me make it up to you?”

Any attempt Hua Cheng would’ve made at a response was lost to noises of pleasure as Xie Lian began to lick a long stripe up his length. 

At least this is familiar territory… Xie Lian thought as he mouthed at the flared head, before he effortlessly relaxed his throat and took the whole thing into his throat in one fluid, practiced motion. 

Truth be told, the god had always found this the easiest when it came to the bedroom. Not only did it bring immense pleasure to his beloved, he was also pretty used to the motion from his years of swallowing swords. Not to mention the fact that this didn’t even cut his insides like those swords had!

Unconsciously, Xie Lian hummed as he mused, causing Hua Cheng to let out a sharp cry of pleasure. The god moved his hand lower as he continued the ministrations with his mouth. 

He brought his fingers to that soft skin, attempting to slip them inside in a mimic of what he had experienced Hua Cheng do. Two of his fingers slipped in easily into that wet heat, and he attempted to spread and twist them when he felt a raised bump.

Just what he was looking for. Xie Lian continued to move his fingers, only this time, he thrust them in and out with a focus to hit that bump.

Hua Cheng’s noises only grew, his usual witty remarks nowhere to be found.

“Gege, gege, I’m close—“ the words were cut off as Xie Lian felt something warm and sticky pumping down his throat. He continued to suck at the base of that length for a while, before he removed both his mouth and fingers with an obscene pop.

Cupping Hua Cheng’s face, he stared at the ghost’s blissed out expression, and couldn’t resist giving him a quick peck on the lips—which the ghost eagerly deepened, not relenting until Xie Lian was breathless. 

“Was that okay, San Lang?” Xie Lian questioned gently after having regained his breath.  

“Perfect,” Hua Cheng replied immediately, tone void of hesitation as if it were the only correct answer. “Only, Gege knows that this one needs more than that to feel sated, right?”

A devilish smirk bloomed across the ghost’s pink tinted face as his beloved sighed heavily.

“Yes, yes, I am well aware of how insatiable my husband is.”

Chuckling, Hua Cheng wound both hands around the god’s neck, pulling his husband down for another long, breathless kiss.

“Hold on San Lang,” Xie Lian panted as he pulled away gently. The ghost pouted at the loss before he realised what the god was doing—undressing himself. In his muddled state, Hua Cheng hadn’t even realised that his beloved had been the only one clothed this whole time.

The ghost stared hungrily at Xie Lian as the latter pulled his white outer robe off of his body. The god floundered with it for a while, unsure of where to place it so as to not ruin the beautiful nest Hua Cheng had crafted.

Hua Cheng smirked as he watched his husband struggle before he clicked his fingers. Xie Lian’s eyes widened, a red flush creeping up his cheeks as he registered the cool air enveloping his body.

“S-san Lang!” He sputtered from where he sat between the ghost’s legs, causing Hua Cheng to let out a breathy laugh at how easily embarrassed his beloved was.

“Gege, I’ve already seen you like this countless times,” Hua Cheng drawled, trailing a slender finger adorned with a pointed, black nail from the god’s chest to his lower stomach. He only pulled away when he got too low, wanting to tease his husband. “Besides, wasn’t Gege the one who said he’d give me what I wanted?” 

The last words came out as almost a whisper, sounding confident, but Xie Lian could easily detect the underlying question within them. 

With a still bright red face, the god answered his husband as sincerely as he could. “Of course, anything San Lang wants is what I will give him.”

Like magnets, the two were pulled back together instantaneously. Xie Lian climbed onto the ghost's lap to kiss him as they rolled their hips in tandem. The pair lost themselves in the haze of their combined pheromones, only pulling away when they were reduced to a mess of breathy pants—well, one of them anyway.

"W-wait, San Lang," Xie Lian gasped as he pushed away slightly. Hua Cheng only blinked up at him with one dark eye, seeming far too calm for the current situation. The god blushed as he flailed about, searching for the best way to… go about the next step. 

Finally, he settled on gently bringing one of the ghost's long, pale legs over his shoulder. Moving downwards, Xie Lian sucked at the ghost's hole, lapping his tongue over it before hesitantly pushing inside.

"Mmngh—" The god's eyes darted up at the cut off choke. What he saw was the sight of his dazed husband, biting on his arm as his skin was tinted pink all the way to his ears. Xie Lian couldn't help feeling a mixture of both amusement and heartache as he carefully tore the ghost's arm away from his mouth.

"Let me hear you, beloved," Xie Lian whispered into Hua Cheng's skin as he nibbled on the ghost's ear. 

A quiet "Mn" was the only response he got. Xie Lian realised then just how affected Hua Cheng must be. He was usually never this compliant. Taking pity on his poor ghost, Xie Lian decided to speed up and give his beloved what he needed.

The god once again pushed two fingers into the ghost's hole, scissoring them as he deliberately stayed away from his prostate, unlike before. After a while, Xie Lian added a third finger, attempting to prepare his ghost as well as possible so that he wouldn't be in pain later.

The moans in the room, which had originally been sparse and low, grew as Xie Lian continued to thrust those fingers in and out.

"G-gege please," Hua Cheng pleaded through harsh pants as he pushed his hips into Xie Lian's hand eagerly. 

As soon as the ghost had said the words, he felt the fingers replaced by something much larger and warmer. 

Xie Lian’s skin was completely red at this point—from the tip of his ears to his chest. His eyes were hazy as he felt a certain part of himself completely engulfed by a wet heat. 

‘Ah, so this was what San Lang felt when they did… that.’

“G-Gege, please move.” Hua Cheng whined after a while, sounding choked and out of breath.

The reaction from the usually confident ghost king went straight to Xie Lian’s length, and he let out a groan as he began to thrust in and out at a steady pace.

“Does San Lang feel good?” Xie Lian asked as he continued his pace, scouring Hua Cheng’s blissed out face for any sign of discomfort, and speeding up when he found none.

“A-ah, this San Lang is honoured to have gege grace him with—“ The end of his sentence was cut off as Xie Lian quickly pulled him into an open mouthed kiss (if the ghost finished that sentence, he wasn’t sure he would have lasted).

Hua Cheng groaned at the development, wrapping both arms around Xie Lian’s shoulders to pull him closer, and deeper, until all he could feel was his god around and inside him. 

“Gege, I love you.” Hua Cheng wouldn’t have been sure Xie Lian had heard the sentence if not for the warmth spilling and something inflating inside him.

The feeling, as well as the whispered ‘I love you too, beloved’, were enough for him to follow after almost immediately. 

God and ghost lost themselves in the pleasure of skin against skin behind the closed doors of their bedroom, not re-emerging until a full week later. 

"Excuse me," Xie Lian called sheepishly to a house servant in the hallway. His hair was mused and free from bounds, and his clothes were wrinkled and obviously hastily tied. "Would you please prepare the bathing pools? Thank you!" 

The god barely had the chance to say the last sentence as the servant scuttled off to fulfill the order, clearly not wanting to probe into the privacy of their two masters' bedchambers. Besides, the pheromones lingering in the air said enough.

With a sigh, Xie Lian turned around to find the sight of his husband languidly lazing in his nest with his head propped up on one arm. The god’s heart immediately swelled with fondness at the sight. 

Hua Cheng’s heat had ended just over two days ago. Though, with his husband’s personality, Xie Lian wasn’t surprised that they hadn’t left the bedroom until much later. Even this, in his ghost’s words, was “being merciful towards the fools of heaven that couldn’t run it without his god”. 

As soon as the god had walked to their bed, he was pulled by the arm to lay next to Hua Cheng’s side, with an arm around his waist to prevent him from leaving.

Xie Lian couldn’t help but chuckle at the action as he toyed with his husband’s messy hair.

“San Lang,” Xie Lian admonished—though, they both knew it was fake. “We’d have to get out of bed sooner or later. Besides, we both have duties to attend to.”

“But gege,” Hua Cheng sniffled with a pout. “Can’t you take pity on this one and grace this poor ghost with your presence a little longer? I’m sure those fools can figure out whatever issues they have.”

The ghost ended the sentence with a sneer of displeasure at having to even think about those idiots in a moment like this. Hua Cheng buried his face in the god’s neck, breathing in the heavy scent before licking at the fresh, red bite mark on the god’s glands, one he sported a permanent matching pair of.

Xie Lian bared his neck to provide more access as he hummed, looping his arms around the ghost’s neck before mumbling quietly.

“Maybe… Just one more round?” 

Hua Cheng’s grin grew at the words, showing two pointy, white fangs.

“As gege wishes.” 

Hua Cheng immediately flipped Xie Lian over into the red, silky sheets.

The pair didn’t leave the bedchamber until much, much later. 

Omake: 

Hua Cheng, “seeming far too calm for the situation”: “OHMYGODOHMYGOD MY GOD? IT’S ACTUALLY HAPPENING. I DON’T DESERVE THIS. GEGGEGEGEGEGE. TAKE ME, FILL THIS SERVANT WITH YOUR DIVINE SEED—

Omake #2:

Yin Yu was sweating. Well, not really. He was a ghost now after all, and ghosts don’t sweat as they have no need to stave off the heat—ANYWAY THAT WASN’T THE PROBLEM. 

The banished god turned ghost paced back and forth in his study. The location of the room made it so that it was both between the front hall used to welcome guests, and his employer’s personal wing. In that wing were rooms like Hua Cheng’s own study, a painting room, library, armory, kitchen, bathing pools, and… the bedchambers of the two masters of ghost city.

 It was the largest wing of paradise manor, so obviously it would be bustling with servants right? WRONG. 

Right now, the wing was completely void of people, save the two that were blissfully unaware and frolicking about in their chamber. The servants there had either been moved to other, smaller wings, or given temporary residences in the city, which Yin Yu was still attempting to find. 

The reason? Well, what else could it be but the fact that the entire largest wing of paradise manor was swimming in the pheromones of a bonded pair. After many… unfortunate incidents, his masters had gracefully decided to put a silencing talisman on their door, so why hadn’t they thought to put a pheromone blocking one as well???

Surely, the richest man in the entirety of their known world ghost realm wasn’t lacking a few talismans??

Thankfully, Yin Yu had managed to block off that wing with a few talismans of his own, but that still left hundreds of servants without a place to go.

With dark circles under his eyes, Yin Yu slumped into the chair at his desk, oddly feeling like there was no difference between being here in ghost city and back in the heavens.