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Chapter Text

“This is a terrible plan.”

“You’re going to get yourself killed.”

Xie Lian sighs inside the palanquin. They’ve had this same conversation at least six times on the way from Puqi Shrine to Ghost City. 

“What else would you have me do? No matter what I suggest you say I’ll end up dead–”

Mu Qing and Feng Xin start to argue,

“–at least this way gets straight to the point.” 

“You don’t understand Your Highness, this isn’t your Hua Cheng. He’s insane! Have you ever noticed how he treats others? To him, you're nothing more than a heavenly pest sent to spy on him. Even if he lets you in, at most you’ll be a toy to throw away when it’s no longer entertaining.” 

“Have some faith–”

Mu Qing interrupts, “Worse, he’s unpredictable. What if he throws you straight to the dungeons without ever seeing your face! And he won’t even let rot in peace, you won’t get a single moment without those torturous wraith butterflies swarming you.”

Even through the gauzy curtains Xie Lian saw Feng Xin shudder. 

“Mu Qing, Feng Xin, has San Lang ever locked you two up?”

The silence stretched.

“Your highness shut up, we’re at Ghost City.” 

You two were the ones yelling!

🎎🍁

The last thing Xie Lian expected was for Pei Ming to show up in the middle of the night on his doorstep claiming that Hua Cheng had forgotten him. 

Earlier that morning Pei Ming had visited Ghost City’s red light district and he had tried to pick up a woman by bragging that he had once rescued the celebrated Grand Uncle from a wrath–Xie Lian couldn’t recall this event but he’d been too caught up in the absurdity of it all to question it–the woman had no idea who this uncle was but she was still charmed enough to bed him. Afterwards, Pei Ming asked many others in the city if they knew who Xie Lian was but everybody looked at him as if he was crazy. Their Chengzhu having a bride? Who was this lunatic! 

Pei Ming had even brought Quan Yizhen in to question Yin Yu, but the officer, and his lord, had no recollection of ever encountering Xie Lian, or his very existence. 

Xie Lian had spent the next two days tracking down the memory loss demon, and another three dispersing it. 

Truthfully he was still in shock.

To think that his husband–the one who swore “I won’t forget, I’ll never forget!” – forgot him was a cruel joke, something he would’ve expected before his third ascension, and laughed about in the aftermath. But now, two years into his blissful marriage and three without his cursed shackles, Xie Lian had hoped his luck would’ve been overpowered by Hua Cheng’s by now. 

But it seems it takes more than a few years of bliss to erase eight hundred years of suffering. 

🎎🍁

“COME JOIN THE GHOST CITY CIRCUS! WE’RE LOOKING FOR TIGERS, DOLPHINS, AND–”

“RESTAURANT GRAND OPENING! SELLING NORMAL AND HUMAN FOOD! TABLES ARE FILLING UP QUICK, FIRST COME FIRST–”

“FRESH LIVERS! FRESH LIVERS FOR SALE! GET IT HERE, FRESH LIVERS–”

“HEY AREN’T THESE THE SAME ONES FROM LAST MONTH?!”

“YOU ASSHOLE! MY PRODUCE IS ALWAYS FRESH!”

“I LITERALLY DROPPED THIS ONE A MONTH AGO, IT STILL HAS MY CLAW MARKS ON IT!”

“YOU-!”

“Ma, who are those people carrying that pretty box?”

“Ehh, let’s stay away from them Ning Ning…”

Ghost City was as rambunctious as ever. Mu Qing, Feng Xin, and their two volunteer deputy officials had to constantly shove ghosts to get through.  Xie Lian jostled around with every couple of steps. A crowd had formed behind them, most of them stopping to point and jeer at them. 

Sure weird things happened in Ghost City, but a bridal procession heading straight towards Paradise Manor? That didn’t happen everyday. 

Perhaps if Xie Lian had let his palanquin bearers conceal their heavenly aura the group would’ve gotten less attention, but Xie Lian needed this. 

Mu Qing is right. There is a chance that Hua Cheng will throw Xie Lian a dungeon without even seeing his face, and the chance of breaking the curse by getting Hua Cheng to say “I love you” while truly meaning it when Xie Lian rotted in a dungeon were low. 

But now, Hua Cheng would surely be curious to see who caused such ruckus in his city!

Xie Lian keeps up his optimism. Hua Cheng had fallen in love with Xie Lian through a handful of sporadic interactions in his childhood, this time, Xie Lian will actually try to get him to fall for him. 

This will be a breeze. 

🎎🍁

Xie Lian stared at the floor from his position, kowtowing in Paradise Manor’s great hall, surrounded by their servants.

Hua Cheng will be furious when he gets his memories back, but Xie Lian thinks his position is quite sweet–romantic even. Kneeling here, in wedding robes for his husband, reminds Xie Lian of their meeting on Mount Yu Jun and their actual wedding. Last week Hua Cheng had actually brought up holding a second wedding to celebrate their  three-year anniversary. Perhaps they should start planning it after he gets his memories back…

“Tell me,” Hua Cheng leaned back on the divan, “what a dumb little lamb like you doing in my city?”

Isn’t that line a bit cliche San Lang? Xie Lian thought helplessly.

“Hello, Chengzhu. Apologies for the commotion,” Xie Lian said. He made eye contact with Hua Cheng and froze.

His husband was staring at him, appraising Xie Lian piece by piece. His eyes were cold,  no trace of the fond loving look Xie Lian was used to. 

In front of Hua Cheng’s piercing stare– a marvel for him but customary to others– Xie Lian truly understood what his friends were warning him. It’s not as if Hua Cheng simply forgot him, he lacks any of his previous emotions towards him as well. When Hua Cheng sees Xie Lian he sees nothing more than an annoying nuisance. 

He is nothing to Hua Cheng.

With that realization Xie Lian found himself floundering. 

“Oh, uhm, well you see, the heavens…well, actually–I’ve–”

“Hurry up,” Hua Cheng commanded, looking bored.

Xie Lian started to sweat under Hua Cheng’s heavy stare.

He takes a deep breath, “The heavens–well–after what happened with the previous emperor, they’ve decided they want a more favorable relationship with the ghost realm. And–well,” his face grew hot, “I’ve been sent as a peace offering. A gift.”

This is so stupid! What did he think would happen? Hua Cheng would see him, fall in love, and they’d get married on the spot? Why didn’t he listen to his friends!?

“A gift,” Hua Cheng repeated.

And because he can’t keep his mouth shut, Xie Lian corrected, “well, a bride really.” 

Nobody spoke for a moment. 

A long moment.

Then, someone started laughing, 

Then another,

And another, 

Even Hua Cheng threw his head back and laughed.

Soon the hall was filled with boisterous cackles.

“A WIFE FROM THE HEAVENS? YOU THINK OUR LORD IS STUPID ENOUGH TO ACCEPT YOU?”

“HE HAS A PRETTY FACE THOUGH. CHENGZHU WE COULD MAKE SOME GOOD USE OUT OF HIM!”

“MOVE!! YOU FAT ASS IS BLOCKING MY VIEW!”

“YOU RAT ASS–!”

“HEY! You know I’m sensitive about that…”

“Quiet,” Hua Cheng said. He smiled dangerously and crouched down to Xie Lian’s level. 

To anyone else Hua Cheng's deadly scrutiny would've had them shaking in their boots, but to Xie Lian–despite his fear–his husband's formidable glare is just so handsome! Xie Lian felt his face grow even hotter. His face must be as red as Hua Cheng's robes! 

“A bride you say?” 

Xie Lian nodded.

Xie Lian jumped as Hua Cheng grabbed him by the collar of his robes, “I can’t deal with this right now.” He flings Xie Lian to a pair of guards. 

Xie Lian landed at their feet with a quiet Oof  

“Take him to his room.”

San Lang, please don't remember any of this when you get your memories back!

🎎🍁

The guards were two broad boulder-like figures nearly double the height of Xie Lian. They dragged him around Paradise Manor by the scruff of his collar–like a kitten.

His bridal robes weren’t particularly elaborate, but they were expensive to get so last minute, and Mu Qing spent a couple of hours mending them to suit Xie Lian better. With the way everyone was handling him all of his hard work must be completely ruined by now!

“How long do you think till Chengzhu kills him?”

“A week. I’d fuck him before though,” he lifted Xie Lian up and they locked eyes. “He looks so innocent though. It’d be a shame to ruin that.”

Xie Lian didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Can you guys talk about this when I’m not here? 

“Yeah, but the heavens gifted him. He knows what he’s up for.”

They entered another hallway, “I bet he’ll tear this one up with Eming.”

“Nah, he won’t ruin a pretty thing like this.” 

“But he hates the heavens so much. He’ll want to make an example.”

Xie Lian stopped listening after that.

Half an incense time later they arrived at Xie Lian’s new bedroom. Xie Lian was promptly shoved inside with a decisive click of the lock. 

He takes a look in the mirror. Surprisingly his robes had minimal wear and tear, and his make up had stayed the same. Pleased, Xie Lian sat on the bed and waited for his husband. 

And waited.

And waited.

And waited. 

🎎🍁

Hua Cheng appeared three days later. 

Xie Lian jolted awake when he heard the door open. Hua Cheng loomed over him and looked him up and down coldly, his gaze lingering on Xie Lian's chapped lips before moving on to his the cheap coarse robes he had found in the closest. “You're still here.” 

Xie Lian quickly sat up and tried to make himself look presentable. Truthfully, when Hua Cheng hadn't arrived on the first night, Xie Lian was grateful. He didn't know how much the curse changed Hua Cheng's personality, and the thought of his husband taking someone he just met to bed brought out a bitter feeling in Xie Lian. 

But by the second night Xie Lian started panicking. Did his husband forget about him? Was he to be stuck in this small windowless room forever? But thankfully Xie Lian interested Hua Cheng enough to at least be curious about him. For the first time in a week Xie Lian felt pleased.

“Did Sa-Chengzhu sleep well?”

Hua Cheng’s eyebrow arches sharply, and his voice comes low, incredulous. "I lock you up for three days with no food or water and you ask me if I slept well?”

Xie Lian blinks a few times and nervously looks up at Hua Cheng. “Isn't it a wife's duty to look after her husband?” 

A silence falls between them.

“…”

“…”

Xie Lian winces, and if it were at all possible, he would have folded himself into the floor right then and there. His face burns so fiercely it could light a lantern.

He wants to crawl back into his coffin, wallow in his misery for the rest of eternity. The only person he’d ever tried to flirt with was his husband—and Hua Cheng had already been hopelessly in love with him back then! There had been no stakes, no pressure. This… this was like diving headfirst into a pit of swords with no spiritual energy and no plan.

Why didn’t I practice my lines? Why did I think this was a good idea?!

Instead of collapsing into dust, he lets out a strained, awkward laugh that sounds more like a whimper dressed up as comedy.

“Ha… haha…”

Hua Cheng just kept staring at him, blankly. Xie Lian couldn't tell whether it was in shock or horror.  

“…Ha… ha…” he tries again, weaker this time.

Hua Cheng turns to the door, “leave.”

Panic claws its way up to Xie Lian’s throat. Without thinking, he rushes after him. “Chengzhu I'm sorry–I don't know why I said that.” 

Hua Cheng didn’t stop walking. His words came out flat and cold. “At first I thought heavens had sent you involuntary–thats why I gave you three days to find a way to kill yourself–but now,” he pauses in disgust, “I realise you want to be here.”

Xie Lian darted in front, blocking the door. “Yes I volunteered–”

Hua Cheng raised two fingers. “Then there are two possibilities.” 

Xie Lian’s heart thudded, his breath shallow. 

“One,” Hua Cheng said, holding up a finger, “you're an assassin sent to get rid of me.”

Xie Lian frantically shook his head. 

“Or two,” he raised the second finger, his voice sharp as a knife, “you’re some deranged freak who wants to be wed to a ghost king–” 

Xie Lian frantically nodded. 

“‘–and frankly I don't want either in my city.” Hua Cheng finished. Turning his face away like the sight of Xie Lian personally offended him. “So scram.”

A few wraith butterflies surrounded Xie Lian. Their light gave Hua Cheng's face an ominous glow. A chill went up Xie Lian’s spine. Despite his efforts, Xie Lian couldn’t continue to ignore his husband's expression. 

Hua Cheng towered over him, looking at him as if he's some plague ridden rat unfit to stand in his presence. His current skin had the same height and build as his true form. But he was as pale as bone, and his eyes were pitch black. Two sharp slits that narrowed whenever they landed on Xie Lian like blades measuring where to cut first.

Whatever hope Xie Lian had it was crumbling fast. His plan wasn't working.

Xie Lian switched tactics.

“Just because I'm a freak,” he said quickly, trying to keep the panic from his voice, “doesn't mean that you should throw me out. Even if you don’t want me—keeping me around is still smarter. Heaven wants to increase their favorability. And if it doesn’t work with me… they’ll just send someone else. Again. And again. Isn’t it better to end it here, with me?”

Hua Cheng didn’t answer. His eyes didn’t blink. But something behind them flickered—calculating.

Xie Lian took that sliver of hope and kept going.

“And freaks can be useful too! I was sent as your bride but I can do a little bit of everything! I can sing, dance, and play seven instruments. Do you have any repairs you need to fix? I heard the gardening shed leaks. And the signs outside the Gambler’s Den—those were your calligraphy, weren’t they?” He rushed forward, words tumbling over themselves.

“We both know you can do better. I was once the most gifted calligrapher in my kingdom. I can tutor you.” 

Hua Cheng stared at Xie Lian. But this time, it was deeper. Darker. He looked like he was trying to strip Xie Lian’s soul out through his eyes.

“You’re a god,” he said coldly.

Xie Lian faltered, all of his previous ferocity dissipated. He did have a couple of temples, mostly in the villages surrounding Puqi. Hua Cheng had urged Xie Lian to let him build more but Xie Lian knew if he let Hua Cheng build any he’d end up with thousands, and that was just a sour reminder of his first ascension. Either way, if Hua Cheng were to step into any of them all he’d see now would be an empty building with an abandoned god. 

“Yes,” he said quietly, “but I’m forgotten. I have no temples, no offerings, no believers,” Xie Lian then raised both hands, palms up. “No spiritual powers.” 

Hua Cheng smiled. But not the smile Xie Lian missed—not the warm, lopsided one full of teasing and tenderness. This was the cold one. It’s a smile he gives to those causing trouble in Ghost City, or to Mu Qing and Feng Xin when he’s about to say something particularly cruel. Xie Lian’s never been the target, and the difference between Hua Cheng and his husband becomes stark. 

“Funny,” Hua Cheng murmured. ‘Heaven usually gets rid of useless things faster. Why do they still keep you?” 

Xie Lian scratches his neck. “Uhm… I’m… entertaining?”

“A tutor. A dancer. A musician. And now a clown.”

Xie Lian laughs awkwardly, “I can cook as well.”

Hua Cheng tilts his head. “You can cook as well.” More butterflies alight behind Hua Cheng. 

Xie Lian withers into himself. “En.” 

Then Hua Cheng leaned in—slow, deliberate. His face hovered mere inches from Xie Lian’s. He reached out and curled a lock of Xie Lian’s hair around his gloved finger, almost mockingly.

“What do you get if I keep you?” Hua Cheng asked suspiciously. This close, Xie Lian can see the smudged kohl lining his eyes, count the thick lashes curtaining his iris’. If he leans forward even slightly, their lips will meet. 

Xie Lian heart jackrabbits. He hasn’t had his beloved this close in so long. So much time without Hua Cheng has left Xie Lian needy. It’s been eight whole days without Hua Cheng’s mischievous grin, without his calloused fingers, without his velvet voice. He wants to lean forward, he yearns to kiss those soft lips. To touch him. To feel him. 

Instead, he smiles–soft and distant.

“It’ll help someone I care about.”

For a long second, Hua Cheng says nothing. His eyes filled with judgement and pity. Then he makes a quiet, disinterested sound and turns away without another word.

And Xie Lian—loyal, patient—dutifully followed.

Chapter Text

Hua Cheng leads him outside the manor and they approach Paradise Manor’s kiln. The heat emanating from the building makes it look as if the large clay structure was swaying and bellowing with the breeze. 

“The kiln's been filthy for a few months now,” he states, bored. “Nobody's willing to go inside.” The dome structure rumbles, spitting out coal from its chimney. 

What sane person would go into that? It looks like it'd burn alive anyone who steps inside…

“Go clean it.” 

Hua Cheng must've noticed his aversion and consoles him, “It hasn’t been used today.” 

Who would that reassure, San Lang?! 

Losing interest, Hua Cheng wishes him good luck–his tone makes the phrase sound like an amused jab rather than a kind wish–and leaves with a sweep of his robes. 

Xie Lian stares at its door. With a deep breath, he enters the kiln. 

A wave of heat envelops him, stinging his skin from all angels. There's a faint glow coming from the hot coals in the fireplace. He’d cleaned up kilns during his second banishment. Half a decade ago Xie Lian wouldn’t have even flinched. But the past couple years of marriage has made him soft and used to warms beds over scorching burns. He’s become too sensitive.

A wraith butterfly follows him inside and perches on a broken shard of poetry. Its light illuminated the darkness of the kiln. 

Everything is in disarray. Ash stained the walls. Broken clay littered the ground. Individual coal in the fireplace exploded every now and then like little fireworks. 

The smoke made it difficult to breathe, and the smell stung his nostrils. 

Oh well. He's been through worse.

In the dim light Xie Lian finally noticed the precarious spot the butterfly landed. It sat only an arms length away from the spitting sparks, any moment now its wings could get burnt. 

He reaches out for the butterfly and–

Xie Lian jerks his hand back. A thin gash ran down his hand, from the tip of his finger to the bottom of his palm. Blood begins to drip down.  

For a moment he’d forgotten about the curse, and now he’s carelessly gotten hurt. Wincing from the pain, Xie Lian wipes off the blood on his dirtying robes. Looking around the room, he realises even if it let him touch it, there really isn’t a safe place to put it. Everything is either burning, melting, or sharp. 

Xie Lian exits the kiln, the butterfly follows. Half a li away he finds a well and bucket. Xie Lian heads back inside. 

The full bucket lands in the kiln with a swoosh . He wishes he could dump all of it into the fireplace but he’s afraid that would wet the wood, which would lead to more work for him. Carefully grabbing the clay shard the butterfly was perched on, Xie Lian places it inside the bucket. 

“Go on,” he encourages. It takes a moment but the wraith does settle on its little boat. The shard dips up and down along the small waves. A fond smile appears on his face. Ahhhh it’s so cute! It looks like a tiny sailor on his ship!

Knowing the butterfly is safe, Xie Lian gets to work. 

He scrubs the soot on the walls, sweeps off the debris on the floor, wipes the clay residues off the shelves. By the time Xie Lian finishes, half the day has passed by. His white robes have turned gray. And his fingers coated with ash. But he’s pleased with his work. The whole kiln is spotless, his husband will surely be impressed! 

Right when he’s putting away his cleaning supplies, he hears children playing outside. 

“Ha! Ning Ning I won again! Third time in a row.”

“Let’s play again, I’ll definitely show you this time!”

Smiling, Xie Lian opens the door to warn them not to play near the blazing kiln when their ball flies past him and straight into the fireplace! Two little tiger spirits run after it–crashing into the piles of dust Xie Lian was just about to throw out–and Xie Lian sprinted ahead of them to stop them from jumping in along with their ball. 

“Good job genius, now neither one of us can win.” The older of the two glares.

Ning Ning’s lips wobble, his eyes start watering. “I didn’t mean to…” 

Ah…what is this luck? He sends a prayer to Hua Cheng. San Lang, I know you couldn’t care less about me right now but please let some of your luck rub off on me. At this rate I’ll end up dead before you ever get your memories back!

“Don’t worry!” Xie Lian pats them both on the shoulder, secretly crying along with Ning Ning. “This gege will get it for you.” 

“Really?” They both looked up at him with big wide eyes, the ball sizzled. 

“Of course!”

🎎🍁

When Xie Lian finally cleans up the mess it’s dusk. He’s tired and hungry. The burns across his hands and knees throb. All he wants to do is run a bath, lie down on his bed, and have his husband cuddle him to sleep. 

Speaking of which–

“You look like shit.” 

Xie Lian jumps so hard he nearly trips on his own hem. He spins around startled a yelp. 

Hua Cheng leans against the doorframe, arms crossed, looking like he’d been waiting to say that all day. He’s wearing a different face than he was wearing this morning–a new one Xie Lian had never seen before. Luxurious robes glittered with silver chrysanthemums, and petals latticed up his sleeves. His hair is tied in a high bun with an ornate pin. He looked no older than 17, but his eyes gave him away. Centuries behind that gaze, heavy with judgement and amusement. Elegant; perhaps a young scholar from an illustrious family. 

He is so beautiful. Devastatingly so.

Xie Lian glanced down at himself.

His robes are singed, a patch of soot runs across his chest. Several locks of hair have escaped their bun and stick haphazardly to his sweaty face. His skin is marked with burns and bruises. But honestly? He doesn’t think he looks that different from normal. Hua Cheng had seen him in battlefields, after temple collapses, stuck in rivers–yet he’d still smiled and called Xie Lian beautiful.  

Was it a lie, then?

Has he been lying all along?

For the first time Xie Lian is glad his husband has no desire to sleep with him. Xie Lian pats ash off his knees and brushes his hair off his shoulders. He straightened his back with what little dignity he could scrounge up. Then, quietly–trying for humor, trying not to let his anxiety show–he said: “You know…I’ve been told I have a rugged charm.”

Hua Cheng scoffed. 

So Xie Lian added, just barely teasing, “But to be fair, Chengzhu somehow always manages to outshine everyone.” Comparing himself to his husband is like comparing a phoenix with a peach tree. Yes, both can be called pretty. But one is undebatably more glamorous than the other. “When you enter a room, suddenly everyone else is a half dead toad.”

Hua Cheng snorts, but a small smirk breaks out on his face. It’s amused and mocking but Xie Lian savors his smile. 

“Big compliments.” He rolled the braided in coral bead between his fingers. “But you look like a half dead toad that's been rotting on a busy street for half a week.” He leaves the kiln and beckons Xie Lian to follow. “Come, I’ll have Zhu Shu run you a bath.”

They lock eyes, “afterwards you’re going to give me a calligraphy lesson, Laoshi .”

🎎🍁

Xie Lian was surprised when instead of the library, Zhu Shu led him to the dining room. Not that he minded. 

After his bath Xie Lian is completely refreshed, his burns soothed, and Hua Cheng had even given him a new set of wool robes. The last pair felt like they were handed down from a sour prisoner; this set is fit for a filial servant! 

When he enters the room, Hua Cheng is already at the table, twirling a pair of chopsticks between his fingers. At the sound of Xie Lian’s entrance, the chopsticks clattered against the table with a sharp click .

Hua Cheng looked him over, eyes flicking down and back up. “What took you so long? I was getting worried you drowned in the tub.” 

Xie Lian smiles sheepishly. Drops of water drip down his hair onto his robes. In his rush, he hadn’t properly toweled his hair. His scalp was relatively dry but he couldn’t say the same about the ends. “Would you believe I’ve actually done that before?” 

“Really?” Hua Cheng snorted, ladling a generous serving of wonton soup into a porcelain bowl. “Only someone as pitiful as you could accomplish that.” He paused, then dumped a third of  a plate’s worth of green onions into it. Seemingly satisfied, he pushes the bowl towards Xie Lian with a casual: “Eat.”

“Thank you,” Xie Lian swallows heavily. He’s used to such comments–just not from Hua Cheng. 

Ignoring his feelings, Xie Lian appetizes his hunger. He eats a spoonful, it’s rich. The soup is spicy and fragnant–though the green onions overtake much of its original flavor. The wontons are small, fat, and steaming hot. Too hot, he discovered the hard way by popping one straight into his mouth and nearly spitting it out. He quickly covered his mouth, eyes watering slightly.

The intensity of Hua Cheng’s stare only made his embarrassment worse. On the next spoonful he lightly blows on it before placing it in his mouth. Despite the heat, he enjoys their weight on his tongue before he bites into them. 

They’re delicious. 

“Did Sa-Chengzhu enjoy his day?”  Xie Lian asked, trying to sound casual. But between the lingering heat from the bath and the warmth of the soup, his cheeks were flushed pink. His body felt like a blushing wonton—thin-skinned and overfilled.

“En...” Hua Cheng put down his spoon. “I had a meeting in the afternoon with a…colleague. Then spent the rest of the day in the Gamblers Den. A nasty little menace tried to bet her singing voice in exchange for help destroying her uncle’s ashes.” He smiled–sharp, venomous. His fingers drummed on the table. 

“It turns out she was using trick dice. Caused quite the scene when I took what I owed.”

A shiver runs through Xie Lian, one he can barely hide. Hua Cheng could be ruthless—calmly, unapologetically cruel to those who underestimated him or try to take advantage. And he never flinches when doling out punishment. “Where is she now?” 

“Locked in the servants quarters.” Hua Cheng didn’t miss a beat. ‘Her voice was nothing special. So she’s spending the next decade working in Paradise Manor.”

Xie Lian offered a smile. “How wise.”

“Ah.” Hua Cheng rests his chin on his palm, eyes full of mockery. “My virtuous wife doesn’t approve.” 

His breath hitched. Hua Cheng’s tone is dangerous–it’s the same tone he uses to say ‘Xuan Zhen’–but Xie Lian’s heart can’t help but speed up. He was weak to his husband’s voice. Hua Cheng really is too striking for his own good!

 “You’re just making fun of me.” Xie Lian said, jutting his lower lip out–just slightly. “It’s not my place to tell Chengzhu what to do or not to do in his own city. I do think how you treated her is fair. But… if it were me, I’d find out why the girl wants revenge on her uncle. If her reasoning is sound I’d help her. If not, I’d try to convince her otherwise.” 

Hua Cheng gave a soft, breathy laugh, swirling the wine in his cup. But Xie Lian wasn’t finished.

“But the Gamblers Den sees far too much traffic for that kind of approach. I couldn’t handle the chaos for even a week.” Xie Lian swirled a wonton around the bowl. “That’s why people like Chengzhu run places like that, and not people like me.”

Hua Cheng took a slow sip of wine, his gaze fixed on Xie Lian over the rim of his cup.

“Mhm,” he hummed conspiratorially. “But doesn’t Laoshi think it’s immoral of me to run such a circus at all?”

“Who am I to show up and place judgement on a city I was never even invited to? I have no right to condemn you.” Xie Lian considered his words. “Someone once told me that places like this will exist no matter what. The only thing that matters is who’s in charge of them.” 

Xie Lian couldn’t help but smile at the thought of his husband. “Even with Chengzhu’s,” he pursed his lips trying to think of a word that doesn’t sound rude, “...renowned reputation, everyone comes into the Gambler’s Den willing. Nobody loses something they didn’t put up to bet themselves.”

The air shifted.

He stopped fiddling with his wontons. Deliberately, he set his chopsticks down, his movements slow and delicate.

Then he raised his eyes.

Hua Cheng was already watching him. 

Beads of water clung to Xie Lian’s dark hair and slid down the curve of his neck, soaking the collar of his robes. The fabric clung slightly to his chest. 

Good. 

This is it. If Hua Cheng sleeps with him tonight, pulls him close, just close enough–maybe Xie Lian can coax an ‘ I love you’ out of him. 

There's a trick–a simple one. One that leaves Hua Cheng hungry and pouncing within the moment. It never had to go further than a glance.

He lowered his lashes, eyes dropping for the briefest moment—letting them linger at Hua Cheng’s throat, at the slope of his jaw—before flicking back up. He caught Hua Cheng’s stare through his lashes, slow and steady.

Then, quiet as a breeze, he let his bottom lip part. His tongue flicked out, quick, just enough to wet the skin before he asked:

“Does Chengzhu think his wife too naive?”

The pout on his lips was barely there, but it made the words land somewhere between a question and a challenge.

For a heartbeat nobody spoke.

Without warning, Hua Cheng stood up. Abrupt. Too fast.

Yes,” he said. “Definitely.” 

Then, with an edge to his voice Xie Lian couldn’t quite discern, “Come. I want to practice calligraphy.”

Xie Lian sat frozen, disbelief spreading through him. 

This trick–his trick–has always worked without fail. They could be anywhere, whether it be the Gamblers Den or the capital city, Hua Cheng would whisk them away to a bed and have his way with Xie Lian. 

So why is Hua Cheng walking away? To go practice calligraphy–the thing Xie Lian has to bribe him into doing every time?

Is my flirting so bad that San Lang is driven to calligraphy practice in order to escape it? Has San Lang been pretending to be affected by his seduction this whole time? 

A cold thought slipped in him like a blade.

Humoring him? 

Shame burned up his throat. 

🎎🍁

The question hollowed him.

“Here, Chengzhu, focus on how I move my arm.” 

Xie Lian elegantly painted a large Huā on the parchment. 

Hua Cheng looked bored. In his new form he really looked like a lazy young master used to getting scolded by his tutor. He attempted to copy Xie Lian but he put too much pressure and his now Huā looked more like two blotchy deformed stems. Xie Lian doesn’t know whether to laugh or cry. San Lang I’ve spent the last three years tutoring you. How does your writing still look so horrendous! 

His husband is truly a peerless talent.

Xie Lian reaches to correct his form but the cut on his hand pulls at the last second. The cut stings, and he quickly pulls his hand back, wincing from the pain. The cut’s too shallow for any more blood to drip out but it’s fresh enough to still hurt. 

“What’s wrong?” Hua Cheng asked in feigned concern. 

“Ah.” The pain’s turned back into its previous dull throb. Something as small as this would’ve never phased Xie Lian before his marriage, but it seems spending only three years with Hua Cheng’s love and care has changed all that. “Nothing. I got hurt while cleaning the kiln, that’s all.”

Hua Cheng hummed thoughtfully. “Be more careful next time.”

He perked up. San Lang likes me enough for a next time!

An awkward silence fell between the two. The scratching of the inkstone filled the quiet as Xie Lian methodically ground more ink, “Let’s try again–”

“No.” 

San Lang, it's barely been an incense time…

Hua Cheng cut him off, his voice casual, but his eyes sharp.

“There were two children in the kiln today.” 

It wasn’t a question, Xie Lian didn’t know what to say. “Do you mean Ning Ning and his brother? They accidentally kicked their ball into the fireplace.”

“And you retrieved it.”

“En. Why is Chengzhu curious?”

“Doesn’t matter.” Hua Cheng rested head on his palm. “Where are you from?”

“Xianle. I was the crown prince.”

“Ah so you’re the martial god Xie Lian.”

Xie Lian was taken aback. “You know about me?”

“Vaugely.” Hua Cheng admitted. “Twice banished, thrice ascended. The laughingstock of the heavens. Trash god.” He leaned over the table. “Perhaps that's why they sent you. They must’ve been ecstatic, having finally found a way to get rid of you.”

“I told you I volunteered…” 

“Sure. I have a question for you.” 

Xie Lian slightly raised his brows in curiosity. “Haven’t you been asking them this whole time?”

Ignoring him, Hua Cheng leaned back, arms crossed. “Imagine this: you’re riding a horse. But the horse has been shot with an arrow—it’s panicked, uncontrollable. You're careening through the maze, barely holding on. Now, there’s a fork in the path. On the left, five men are repairing old walls. On the right, only one worker. If the horse charges left, five will be maimed so severely they’ll never work again. If it veers right, the lone worker will die–violently–beneath its hooves. You can’t stop it. You can’t turn around. You must let it go one way. Which path do you choose?”

Xie Lian thought carefully. “I would still try to turn back.”

Hua Cheng sighed. “You can’t. The horse is too wild, you don’t have that kind of control.”

“Then I would dismount.”

“You can’t stop it. If you jump off, you’ll die. Maybe one dies, maybe five lives are ruined, you’ll never know.”

Another pause. The scent of ink, faint and grounding, hung in the air.

“I’d try to dislodge the arrow,” Xie Lian answered, “then dismount and block the horse’s path. I’d scream to get the workers to run away.”

Hua Cheng narrowed his eyes slightly. “If you fail it’ll kill you.”

“It’s a mortal horse, it won’t kill me.” 

“But you’ll still get hurt.”

Xie Lian shrugged. “What’s my momentary pain compared to the workers? I can deal with it until everyone is safe and out of the way. Here I’m not choosing whether to kill one or hurt five, either way people die. If their sons and fathers are construction workers then the family already has little money. Maimed, the five will become liabilities, burdens on everyone else. Going from a strong breadwinner to a financial strain, who could live with themselves? If I can save them from the pain and humiliation, what’s stopping me?”

His husband wouldn't have liked his answer, but Xie Lian knew he hadn't yet garnered enough affection from Hua Cheng for him to be concerned. So he continued.

“I would rather be injured trying to change the course, than sit on that horse and do nothing but choose who must suffer. If I can't steer it, I can at least try to stop it. Or warn them. Or stand in its path. That way… even if I fail, I won’t have failed for lack of trying.”

For a long moment, Hua Cheng is quiet. He rolls the brush between his fingers, eyes dark and unreadable.

“You say you won’t let the horse decide. That you won’t choose between lives. But what do you think you’re doing when you run into the path?”

He leaned forward slightly, voice no longer challenging, but close.

“You’re choosing yourself as the casualty. You’ve just decided who pays.”

Xie Lian’s fingers tightened slightly around the ink brush.

Hua Cheng continued, softer now, eyes steady:

“And what if no one sees that sacrifice? What if the workers never hear your screams? What if the horse tramples all seven of you, and no one even remembers you stood there? Would you still call that a righteous act?”

Xie Lian sat with the question. After a moment, he answered, voice low.

“If I knew I did what I could, I wouldn’t need the world to remember it”

Hua Cheng said nothing for a long moment. His expression was unreadable.

“But isn’t that how you lost your kingdom? By choosing to do too much?”

Xie Lian’s face went pale. His breath hitched. But he didn’t look away. “Is Chengzhu from Xianle? Does he resent me for failing to save it?”

“No,” Hua Cheng said. “I couldn’t care less about that country or its people.” He smirked. “Thank you Laoshi. If anything, your failure led me here.” 

He hid his trembling fingers beneath the table. San Lang are you really this mean to everyone who isn’t me? When you come back we’re going to be needing some etiquette lessons. Xie Lian thought helplessly.

“So…” Xie Lian swallowed. “Is Chengzhu happy where he is?”

Musing over his words, Hua Cheng leaned back. “Content, yes.” 

Xie Lian pursed his lips. “I’m glad.”

🎎🍁

Xie Lian tossed and turned in bed. The blankets felt too heavy, the pillow too soft. The burns across his skin still stinged. He couldn’t get comfortable, no matter how he moved. 

He was wide awake.

The silver butterfly sat motionless on the bedside table. It didn’t move. Just sat there. 

Watching. 

He rolled over and pulled the blanket over his head. He didn’t want to be seen like this

The room was quiet. Not peacefully so, but empty. The air felt colder where there used to be another body beside him. Too cold in the places where he was so used to warmth. 

He clutched the edge of the blanket tighter. 

He knew that Hua Cheng’s words didn’t mean anything. He knew that his Hua Cheng—the one who had waited centuries for him, who had carried his ashes and smiled at him like he was the universe itself—would never be so callous with his words..

But they still hurt.

And no amount of reminding himself it ‘wasn’t really him’ made it sting any less.

A tear slipped down his cheek and soaked quietly into the pillow. Then another fell. He missed his husband so, so, much. 

“San Lang…” Xie Lian whispered. “Please come back soon.”

Chapter Text

“Gege, come here.” 

His voice is soft, nearly reverent. He leads Xie Lian out of the forest, their arms tightly linked–two pieces of chain, tethered together. 

The night is dark, the moon their only source of light, but they find their way into the center of a frozen meadow. The crisp winter air envelops the pair, and they instinctively cuddle closer for refuge. Xie Lian’s nose has turned pink from the cold. He kisses it gently, in apology. Xie Lian smiles, his eyes curving into their own crescent moons in thanks. They sit side by side, laughing into each other’s shoulders, wrapped in giggles and foolish grins. 

“Oh, look!” Xie Lian points to the sky. 

A lone lantern drifts past the moon. Then another. The pair swirl in the sky, persistently bumping into each other, never straying too far. The moon hides behind their light. A moment later a dozen more lanterns trail after them. 

Soon, the sky is ablaze. 

The lanterns paint the sky red and yellow. The colors wash across Xie Lian’s face. His eyes twinkle, and gold specks dance across the light brown of his iris’. Here, there is no mistaking what he is. Even the dandelions surrounding them see his true being. Not a wandering cultivator. Not a mortal. 

A divine being. 

Someone truly worth worship, worth devoting one’s life to. 

It’s impossible to look away.

Cicadas buzz softly. Fireflies blink in lazy spirals. Xie Lian nuzzles his head against his shoulder, his hand reaching out to clasp his husband’s.

He’s smiling. 

"I love you San Lang.”

Hua Cheng jolted awake, gasping for air. His hand flies to his chest. Something is racing–too fast. Too strong. 

His heart. 

It hasn’t beaten in centuries. 

What the hell was that?

Panting, he sits up. His limbs feel heavy, his head clouded. The dead weight in his chest races. It thumps faster than the hooves of a herd of wild horses. 

He mutters under his breath, flicking open the butterfly array watching Xie Lian. The god is still asleep, face calm, lips parted slightly. 

Hua Cheng stares a second too long, then tears the image away.

San Lang.

The name echoed in his head like a curse. 

Third son.

Young man.

Lover. 

His whole body froze. 

Lover?!

He collapses back onto the bed with a groan, dragging a hand across his face. Last night, when Xie Lian called out that name, he’d been curious. Maybe even a little vexed. Who wouldn’t be, when the god offering to be your wife calls out another man’s name in bed? 

But this–this was something else. 

Dreaming of that man? Of Xie Lian cuddling up to him like they belonged to each other? Hearing him say I love you like he meant it?

A strangled sound escapes him–it’s caught somewhere in between a laugh and cry. 

He’s become a cuckold. 

And he’s not even properly married!

Perhaps that’s why Xie Lian keeps longing for another man. He wants a true, proper husband. Someone who showers him with love and attention, and fulfills all his needs without ever being asked. 

Yin Yu needs to start scouting venues–maybe on a mountain, under a maple tree–

Hua Cheng balks.

His hand runs through his hair. Getting married– him getting married–abusrd! 

The thought is insane. Delusional. 

No one’s ever cared for him. Not when he was alive. Not now. Hua Cheng’s been alone his entire life and death. Marriage isn’t a possibility for someone like him. And to Xie Lian of all people! The reckless god may have volunteered to be his bride, but a heart so noble and virtuous could never stir for a thing like him. Even if he smiled at him. Even if he acted kind.

Because everything Xie Lian did—every sweet word, every suggestive glance—it was all for someone else. That someone he kept calling out for. The someone he wants to help.

The one he’ll sacrifice all else for.

Hua Cheng groans into his porcelain pillow, his face burning. Even imaging Xie Lian and him in matrimony feels like blasphemy. 

He sits up again, slower this time, his thoughts still spinning.

Maybe this is it. Maybe he’s finally losing it.

Qi deviation? Possible. He’d been agitated lately, irritable, forgetful. Something wasn’t right. But what has changed?

He hadn’t done anything this past week that he hadn’t done for the last century—except…

Xie Lian.

He'd laugh at himself if it weren't for the stifling feeling in his head. Hell, two days with the god and he’s already succumbed to such a state.

Hua Cheng buries his face in his hands, exhaling sharply. He stayed that way for a while, still and quiet, until the thought finally hit him. When it did, he sat bolt upright, frozen in horror. The pillow cracked under his palm.

He’s been cursed. 

Worse–by that foolish, scrappy, annoyingly amusing god!

Of course. Why else would his chest ache like this? Why else would he dream of him? How could he have been so careless?

Hua Cheng curses and recites the password to Yin Yu’s communication array. He needed to be relieved from this curse yesterday . 

‘Chengzhu?’ Came the cautious reply. ‘Are you alright?’

‘Yes,’ Hua Cheng grumbled. ‘Go to the library and find me everything you can about…’ He paused. The shame hit him in a wave. He gritted his teeth “…love curses.”

‘...’ 

‘......’

Hua Cheng could feel the judgement through the array. 

‘... Hua Chengzhu…’ Yin Yu’s voice returned, far too delicate. ‘I can help you charm whoever you’ve fallen for. There’s no reason to force them… ’

Hua Cheng stares at the ceiling. 

He’s going to kill Xie Lian. 

🎎🍁

The halls of Paradise Manor are silent.

As Hua Cheng walks through them, the only sound is the soft clink of his boots and the delicate rattle of porcelain on the breakfast tray. Normally, there would be noise—footsteps, whispers, inane chatter. But tonight, the manor knows better.

It seems even the walls can feel his mood.

Good .  Hua Cheng thinks to himself. If anybody dares to bother him right now they’ll spend the next week kneeling in the garden until their knees give out.

He arrives at Xie Lian’s door with a tray in one hand and a glare on his face. After Yin Yu’s thoroughly unhelpful response last night, Hua Cheng had come to a conclusion. If Xie Lian is going to play games—whimpering someone else’s name in his sleep, acting like a bashful little wife while clearly pining for another man—then Hua Cheng will play too. 

He’ll make Xie Lian regret ever coming here.

Torment him until he begs to go crawling back to heaven. Then, Hua Cheng will reveal that he’s known about the curse all along, and demand Xie Lian to absolve it. 

His first step?

Rotten chicken.

Hua Cheng knocks.

A moment later the door opens with a click. Xie Lian stands there, blinking sleepily, red still lining the rims of his eyes. But his face brightens at the sight of Hua Cheng. He’s dressed in a similar set of robes as yesterday, but a different color. Hua Cheng had found out the god has an affinity for white, and had Zhu Shu go search for a set in the morning.

“Oh! Good morning, Chengzhu. I was just about to come find you.”

He looks exhausted. Like he cried himself to sleep. Yet somehow, he still looks glad to see him.

What a phenomenal little actor.

He must’ve spent the night crying over his San Lang. A bitter stab twists in Hua Cheng’s gut.

“Is laoshi well rested?” Hua Cheng jabs, letting a smirk curl slowly onto his lips.

Instead of wilting, Xie Lian’s smile grows brighter. That same damn smile. The one that makes Hua Cheng want to slap him. “Yup! It’s all thanks to Chengzhu.” He rolls down his sleeves to reveal smooth, unblemished, milky skin. “I couldn’t be more grateful when I woke up with all my burns and bruises healed!”

Hua Cheng blinks. Right—the butterfly. He forgot.  If only he had discovered the curse last night. “Don’t thank me,” he says coolly, slipping into the room. “What good are you if instead of serving me you’re focusing on your wounds?”

Xie Lian’s smile falters slightly. He glances at the tray in Hua Cheng’s hands, then peeks around him, surprised to find no servants.

“Did Chengzhu come to eat breakfast… together?”

“I got tired of waiting for you to wake up.” Hua Cheng sets the tray down without giving the god a chance to respond. He neatly sets out the bowls of congee, apricots, and and the most important item: the baozi, stuffed full of spoiled meat.

He pushes it across the table toward Xie Lian.

“Come eat.”

Xie Lian obediently sits down in front of him. They eat in silence for a while, Xie Lian quieter than last night, seemingly still in his glum mood. “You know,” Xie Lian says softly, "I can cook pretty well. Shall I make breakfast for you tomorrow?” 

Hua Cheng doesn’t look up from his bowl. “Do as you like.” He watches Xie Lian, out of the corner of his eye.

Looking pleased with his answer, Xie Lian takes a bite of the baozi. He chews. He swallows. 

Good. The chef had followed orders precisely—use the moldy stock, no matter how bad it smelled. Now, all Hua Cheng has to do is sit back and wait for the fun to begin.

“Is there anything you’d like to do today?” Xie Lian asks.

Hua Cheng raises an eyebrow at the shift in tone. “You want to choose?”

Xie Lian perks up. “Can I?”

Hua Cheng shrugs, practiced nonchalance. “I have nothing better to do. Why not?”

Xie Lian thinks for a moment. “Can we go to the market?”

🎎🍁

Ghost City’s market is as boisterous as ever. Stalls packed the streets, their canopies bright with mismatched patches of fabric. Buskers played flutes or pounded drums on street corners, and peddlers pushed carts full of everything from cursed jewelry to jars of sentient teeth. 

It’s an acquired taste. Many visitors take one look at a human leg hanging from a meat hook or a cursed mirror screaming at its owner and turn right around. But to Hua Cheng, the market had a certain charm. A loud, lawless, irreverent charm. He was proud of his city.

He half expected Xie Lian to be uncomfortable—most gods were. They came to Ghost City with turned-up noses, averting their eyes the moment they see something that didn’t fit into their delicate sense of righteousness.

But Xie Lian walked beside Hua Cheng calmly, his steps light, unbothered even as they passed a headless wraith dragging its entrails across the ground. Not a single flinch when Butcher Zhu hacked an arm off a corpse and held it up for display. 

Interesting. 

Hua Cheng leaned in over Xie Lian’s shoulder, “How many times have you been here before?” 

The question caught Xie Lian off guard. He glanced up with a sheepish smile. “Only a few,” he replied, voice soft—almost shy.

Hua Cheng’s fingers reached out, twirling a lock of Xie Lian’s hair around them. It was even softer than it looked. Silky and fine to the touch. “I’m surprised you would ever willingly come to such a place.” 

Xie Lian laughed, light and clear. “You said the same thing to me the night we met.”

His eyes crinkled at the corners, large and bright like blooming peach blossoms. “Chengzhu has clearly made some very fallacious judgments about me.”

The god’s laugh stirred up a strange feeling in Hua Cheng’s chest. Heart burn? Can ghosts even get heart burn? He sends a quick order to Yin Yu to look for a physician. But before he could dwell on the thought a crowd forms around them.

“LOOK, HUA CHENGZHU IS HERE!” 

“MY LORD, NEW ROBES, JUST YOUR STYLE—INFERNAL SPIDER SILK!”

“CHENGZHU, I HAVE A DAGGER MADE FROM A SPIRIT'S FESTERING HEART! COME LOOK!”

“CHENGZHU, COME SEE MY LOTUS FLOWERS, THE PETALS WHISPER PROPHECIES!”

Hua Cheng was about to tell them all to scram when he paused.

Xie Lian was looking around, wide-eyed—not in horror, but with subtle wonder. There was a softness in his gaze as he watched the chaos around them. As if he wasn’t judging it at all.

Maybe... if he saw how admired Hua Cheng was here, how respected, maybe he’ll see the consequence of tricking a Ghost King. Maybe he’d finally want to leave.

“WHO’S THAT WITH OUR LORD?”

“FINALLY! HE HAS A FRIEND!” a pig spirit sobbed, dabbing at their eyes with a soiled napkin.

“WAIT—I KNOW THAT FACE! IT’S THE HEAVENLY BRIDE!! HE ACCEPTED HIM!” Several of them start applauding. 

“A WEDDING?! OUR LORD IS GETTING MARRIED?” 

“THEY LOOK SO GOOD TOGETHER—"

Hua Cheng has had enough. “Scram.” 

The crowd scattered, reluctantly. But out of the corner of his eye, he could still see them hiding—peeking out from behind barrels, rooftop tiles, beneath stalls. Watching.

He sighs.

“My lord is very loved,” Xie Lian said, smiling softly beside him. The glow of the market’s red lanterns lit up his face, painting him in warm rose and gold. He looked unreal—almost exactly like the dream. Hua Cheng starts drumming his fingers on Eming’s scabbard. “En. But now everyone’s staring at us, not the shops. See what trouble you’ve brought upon me? We’re not even married, and already my market is suffering.”

Xie Lian laughs nervously, scratching his cheek. His smile turns a bit more practiced. 

🎎🍁

They wandered through Ghost City’s market, drifting from stall to stall without any real goal. Occasionally Xie Lian fiddles with a small statue or stares too long at some incense, but he never buys anything. Every time Hua Cheng was about to step in and offer, Xie Lian would move on, as if sensing the thought and cutting it off preemptively.

It irritated him.

Everything about this did.

“Laoshi, Laoshi, look.” Hua Cheng said abruptly, gesturing to a nearby stall plastered in simple poetry and cliche sayings like ‘ A fall into a pit, a gain in your wit ,’ and ‘ dripping water penetrates stone .’ The stall’s owner, a youthful-looking spirit with the pinched expression of a very old woman, scowled at the crowd like someone had just kicked over her apples. “Her brushwork is leagues better than yours.”

He waited for Xie Lian to frown. Maybe sulk. Maybe even tear up.

Instead, the god stepped forward, studying the signs with interest. “You’re right, Chengzhu. It’s so fluid.” He turned to the vendor. “How much for these?”

Hua Cheng blinked, stunned, as Xie Lian paid and walked off with a bulging sack of parchment.

“I’m so happy you’re taking an interest in calligraphy,” Xie Lian said brightly. “‘ Review the old and learn the new ,’” he quoted. “If we’re going to practice, we should learn from the best.”

When Xie Lian staggered slightly from the weight of the sack, Hua Cheng snatched it from him without a word.

Wait. 

He stands there with a bag full of poetry and calligraphy brushes. Why is he carrying calligraphy paper now? 

Like some doting husband?

Fool.

As they pass a silverware peddler. Hua Cheng checks his reflection on a polished pot. His current skin isn’t much different from his true form. This chest is slightly broader and he's taller. Hair in a high pony tail decorated with beads and several charms. The eye patch is still there, alongside a thin, black sleeveless shirt and a cape tied around his waist. A few strands of hair have slipped out, and he hastily fixes it. 

He quickly looks away. Hoping Xie Lian didn't notice. 

But the god has already wandered off–to a jewelry stand this time. 

Hua Cheng hangs back, watching. 

At first Xie Lian didn't do anything. Only seeming mildly interested. But then he runs his fingers across a necklace, a series of earrings, and then finally lands on a broach. It’s thick and sliver, shaped like a rhombus, with a large red gemstone in the middle. He picks it up and examines it close to his eye. 

“Oh daozhang, that one comes in a pair.” Hua Cheng’s at a distance where a normal mortal wouldn’t have been able to hear their conversation–especially in the chaos of Ghost City–but he’s trained his ears to be better. The shopkeeper offers Xie Lian another broach. It’s gold with intricate leaves on the edges and the same gem in the center. “Perfect for you and your lover.” She wiggles her eyebrows. 

Xie Lian’s cheeks turn pink

“En.”He mumbles. “San Lang would love this.”

The perfect opportunity. Hua Cheng appears next to him, Xie Lian jumps. “Who’s San Lang?” He asks coolly. 

Xie Lian hesitates. 

“Haha, a friend,” he says quickly. “He loves flashy things.” He pauses, as if mincing over his words. “Do you like this?” He holds up the brooch to Hua Cheng’s chest. “It suits you.” 

Hua Cheng’s jaw clenched.

No. He didn’t like it. Not if it was meant for someone else. He didn’t want San Lang’s leftovers. If Xie Lian wants to get it for this friend then he should, why’s he pushing it onto him!

But… the way Xie Lian looked at him. So genuine. So expectant. Who could say no? “En,” he muttered. “Laoshi has good taste.”

Xie Lian beams. “Perhaps it's because I know you so well.” 

Hua Cheng tosses the vendor a sack of silver for the two broaches. “Perhaps. But I can't say the same about you–” He freezes as Xie Lian leans into him, pinning the brooch onto Hua Cheng sash. 

It’s lopsided. 

“There!” Xie Lian smiled. “Chengzhu looks even more beautiful now.” Hua Cheng quickly turns away and walks ahead before he could blush.

It didn’t help.

“Laoshi,” he waits for Xie Lian to catch up. “Let’s play a game. It’s called ‘don’t lie.’ I ask you a question, if you don’t answer truthfully I’m making you clean the dungeons.”

Xie Lian blinked. “Alright, as long as I can ask you questions too.”

“Whatever. What does Laoshi like to do in his spare time?” 

Xie Lian seemed to be caught off guard by such an innocuous question. “Hmm, lately I’ve been quite busy with heavenly duties,” he says regretfully. “But before I used to go scrap collecting. Or sparing. Oh! Last year I got really into gardening.” He smiled, “My friend, uhm… San Lang has a large garden and we worked on it together. Chengzhu would like it. It’s a nice place to relax.”

Hua Cheng scowls. “No matter how beautiful or relaxing it is, the one at Paradise manor is much better. I’ll show it to you tomorrow.”He adjusted his grip on the sack of scrolls. “Laoshi speaks so much about this friend of his. How did you meet?”

“No, no.” Xie Lian chided. “It’s my turn to ask a question.” He looks Hua Cheng up and down. Hua Cheng fidgeted under his gaze. “You’ve worn that coral bead in all your forms so far. Where did you get it from?” 

“I stole it from an affluent noble man. Now tell me, where did you two meet.”

“Chengzhu…it’s better to answer questions whole heartedly.” A pause. Xie Lian’s tone shifted slightly. “We met a few times, always parting before long. For a while, it seemed we were destined to reunite...only to separate again.”

“Sounds like fate’s trying to warn you,” Hua Cheng added helpfully. 

Xie Lian looked at him strangely, like he was seeing something he hadn’t before. His smile turned… sad. As if to cover up his realization he laughed sadly. “If you told that to him he’d only say ‘ If fate tears us apart, I’ll create my own .’” He looked fond. “When San Lang sets his mind to something nothing can stop him.”

“My turn again,” Xie Lian said quickly, voice lighter. “Chengzhu liked his stolen bed so much that he’s been carrying it around for eight hundred years?”

Hua Cheng shrugs. “This pearl is pretty, isn’t that enough?" Xie Lian looked unsatisfied with his answer. Heeding to the god’s advice, Hua Cheng added. “I didn’t have many fine things while alive. So this pearl is a good reminder of how far I came.” Xie Lian’s expression silled at the mention of his poverty. Hua Cheng couldn’t understand why.

“What is it about your friend that you like so much?”

“Chengzhu,” Xie Lian teased gently, “are all your questions about my friend? Do you take no interest in your bride?” 

Hua Cheng’s finger tips twitched at the mention of bride . “Mn. I’m just curious. You bring him up so much, I assumed you wanted to talk about him. Answer my question.”

“Where to start? There’s so much one can say.” Xie Lian walked ahead, voice softer now. “He’s strong. Proud. No one can push him around. He’s wickedly mischievous—once he decides to tease you, there's no escape.” Xie Lian let out a breathy laugh. “ But he’s also thoughtful. He remembers everything. You could make an off hand remark centuries ago and he’ll still remember. Even little things I said in passing.” Xie Lian looks back, his expression unreadable to Hua Cheng. “He’s also capricious. He can like you one moment, then throw you away the next. He can be cruel, but never without reason.”

“You speak so fondly of him. He must mean a lot to you.” Hua Cheng paused. Not sure if he even wanted the answer to his next question. “Is he the one you love the most?” 

“Haha…” Xie Lian paused. His tone changed. “I do care for him. But no. He’s not the one I love most.”

“Oh.”

Now Hua Cheng has two people to worry about. “Then who is it?”

Xie Lian turned, eyes gleaming with mischief and something else. Something tender. “My husband.” He smiled. “Obviously.”

Hua Cheng’s brain stalls. 

This little liar.  

🎎🍁

Hua Cheng drums his fingers against the table, the sound sharp and precise. If he tapped fast enough, maybe the pain will distract him from how long Xie Lian has been gone.

After an afternoon of wandering the market and enduring every little smile, every soft laugh, every mention of San Lang, he’d noticed Xie Lian’s stomach rumbling. The god, somehow oblivious to his own needs, acted like he hadn’t even noticed until Hua Cheng brought it up. One would expect a god to be especially sensitive to any shift in comfort, even minor hunger. But they did allow Xie Lian to become his bride, he couldn’t have been that well liked–or treated.

A wave of irritation washes over him. Typical heaven. Blind to gold, obsessed with ash. They let any half-baked soul ascend and ignored the divine flower right under their noses.

The waiter arrives with a tray of char siu duck, silken tofu, a bowl of rice, and a plate of pork belly. Hua Cheng pushed the former three to Xie Lian’s side and the latter to his. While neither of them technically needed to eat, the food would at least give some sustenance to Xie Lian. Unlike Hua Cheng who just ate for taste. 

Speaking of the god, he’d looked over Hua Cheng’s shoulder and ran off–using the excuse of having to go to the washroom–with a nervous look on his face. 

Now Hua Cheng sits here, alone and bored.

He sighs heavily.

“What’s taking him so long?” he mutters under his breath.

Footsteps approached from behind. Hua Cheng perks up.

“There you are, Laoshi—” He turns, only to be greeted by the scent of saltwater and bad decisions.

“Disappointed?” He Xuan slides into the bench across from him, expression unreadable. “The infamous Crimson Rain Sought Flower… domesticated. I never thought I’d see the day.”

Hua Cheng made a face. “Only someone as permanently unloved as you would confuse eating lunch with being domesticated. Why are you even here? You haven’t come out of your territory since you finished dealing with the Water Master." 

“And you’re out in courting heaven’s prettiest martyr. The world’s always changing.” He Xuan gestured broadly, already reaching for the tofu.

“You touch his tofu, I’ll feed you to my lotus pond.” 

“Charming.” He Xuan grabbed it anyway. “I heard you got cursed.”

Hua Cheng’s eye narrow. “I heard your ex best friend created an entirely new identity  just to get away from you.”

“Wow, you’re dodging.” He Xuan took a bite of duck and chewed thoughtfully. “Yin Yu asked me if I ever cursed Shi Qingxuan into falling in love with me–to make my revenge easier. Which, rude. But also… telling. Either you’re trying to curse someone, or someone else cursed you.”

Hua Cheng crossed his arms. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Save it.” He Xuan gestured for a waiter. “Leg of ham. Extra salty.”

“Fitting.” 

He Xuan rolled his eyes. “So who cursed you? That sweet little wife of yours?” 

“How much did Yin Yu tell you?”

“Don’t blame him. I asked around.”

Hua Cheng didn’t reply, instead looking over to the alley Xie Lian disappeared into. He sent a wraith butterfly in the same direction. He Xuan followed his gaze. 

“Why don’t you just lock him up and force the information out of him.”

Hua Cheng stares at He Xuan blankly. The thought hadn’t occurred to him. “He’s a god. Heaven would get involved.”

“Don’t lie. You had Ming Yi locked up for centuries.”

“Can you shut up. I’m busy. Go bother someone else with your break up.” The butterfly found Xie Lian. It perched on a ledge above view. 

Xie Lian was talking to another man.

Tall. Tanned. Hair in a short ponytail. Simple robes. Definitely a god—though trying to suppress his aura.

Not very well.

Hua Cheng scowled.

“Your Highness,” the stranger was saying, “Are you sure you’re not hurt? Maybe we can try a different plan.”

“No,” Xie Lian smiled gently. “He’s actually been really kind today. San Lang will be back soon.”

Snap.

The vision vanished in Hua Cheng’s eye like shattered glass.

San Lang. Again. He couldn’t get away from the man!

He Xuan looked at him, chewing slowly. “So? What’s the plan?”

“Hm?” Hua Cheng blinked. “What plan?”

“If you’re not going to drag him to the dungeons, how do you plan to break the curse?”

Hua Cheng leaned back. “Who says I’m not torturing him? I’m just... taking a creative route.”

He Xuan’s eyes flicked toward the pile of shopping bags.

“Looks more like you’re trying to romance him.”

“Don’t be stupid. I’m not you.” Hua Cheng scoffed. “I’m going to emotionally torment him.”

He Xuan stares at him confused. “You mean hurting his feelings till he confesses?” 

“...” 

“...”

He Xuan widened his eyes. “Seriously? That’s your plan?” Hearing someone else say it out loud made it sound idiotic. 

“I don’t need you judging my ploys. You got your revenge, look where you are now. All alone and half way to dispersion.” He Xuan’s mouth barely twitched, but his eyes gleamed—dangerous and cold.

“Whatever Crimson Rain.” He disappeared and left a wet puddle on his seat. 

Hua Cheng stared at the empty spot in front of him. He’d completely forgotten about his food poisoning plot. Thinking about it now, Xie Lian showed no signs of stomach pain or looked like he felt the urge to vomit all day. Did the cook cook the wrong meat? 

Surprisingly, Hua Cheng isn’t too upset at the thought.