#xie lian gets turned into a statue by a curse

[mikkeneko]

🤔 what if I was mean to Xie Lian tho

[habizuh-studios]

oooo another random wip i havent touched since 2 months ago..... in which i made a love letter to my past self and made one of those "X gets stuck in a room for 24 hours" except without all the cringe because i cannot handle htat. and also exposition. Enjoy!! TGCF fic btw,,,,,

Xie Lian was not expecting this to be the way his evening turned out, but all is well and good. He’s not dead yet. What is not well and good, however, is the fact that he’s here with Feng Xin and Mu Qing, who clearly haven’t been in this situation due to their reasonable luck. In all honesty, Xie Lian might have been able to do the mission himself. He’s sure that he is capable enough to escape, but clearly his abominable luck had other plans. This curse had caused them to be transported to a room surrounded by dirt- no visible airholes or anything. He’s sure that he would survive, but San Lang would worry, and Feng Xin and Mu Qing can die, even if their lives are prolonged by their God status. Gods can still die. He’s seen it first-hand. STRIKETHROUGH: (He’s experienced it first-hand. He just came back after.) Well, whatever. They have bigger problems to deal with, like trying to escape. Xie Lian’s observational skills have noticed that the room is (274.32 centimeters by 182.88 centimeters) long, the walls are entirely made of dirt with air holes so small that they cannot see it even if their were any, and the word ‘truth’ in dim letters above their heads. It’s almost transparent, but he cannot figure out for the life of him what that is supposed to mean. He isn’t sure if they were here for twenty minutes or two hours, and they need to think of something. From experience, it would probably take two days to suffocate due to his strength and immortality. It would be safe to assume that the same is for Feng Xin and Mu Qing, due to their Godhood. “Fuck, what the hell are we supposed to even do here?” Feng Xin suddenly says, startling both him and Mu Qing. “Your yelling isn’t helping anybody,” Mu Qing responds with a sneer. They’re always like this, so Xie Lian doesn’t worry, but he doesn’t want them to waste their breath. He wishes San Lang were here. He would know what to do… But the password. He shakes his head quickly, messing up his hair while doing so. Either the two don’t notice or don’t care, because they don’t even look at him while glaring daggers at each other. “Let’s not waste air, you guys…” He tries to placate them. He’s not above begging- he’s done it multiple times. If only they would think rationally instead of yelling at each other… He isn’t really doing anything either, so he can’t really be talking, but still. --- AND that's all i have so far! things in parenthesis are stuff i need to edit. yk..

[heartinhyacinth]

Ahh this has nuzzled its way into my brain

Now I’m imagining that they’re sentient like the statues and remain that way for the same reasons—Xie Lian doesn’t know how to make it stop and it’ll fade eventually anyway, so they just let it be.

Two or so days later, Feng Xin, Mu Qing, and Pei Ming come over to discuss some matters, and Xie Lian, profusely embarrassed, briefly explains, “you see, it’s like the…statue incident haha…”

While Feng Xin and Mu Qing understand immediately, Pei Ming asks for clarification, but Mu Qing turns bright red and declares that they’re not talking about this. Xie Lian agrees. Hua Cheng is snickering quietly in the corner, lounging on the bed with an arm draped over his knee as he leans against the wall behind him and lazily brushes off the cover that repeatedly tries to tuck him in.

They move on and start discussing business, until half way through when Xie Lian seems to have stopped listening, instead staring anxiously at the broom that’s sweeping towards Feng Xin. Hua Cheng is also staring at the broom, except his expression leans on excited anticipation, a mischievous grin beginning to form. Mu Qing notices first and calls them out on not paying attention.

Xie Lian apologizes, but his eyes remain on the broom, “I am, I am! It’s just…” He pauses and takes a wary step towards Feng Xin, hands outstretched cautiously like he’s trying to herd a snappy dog. Xie Lian hesitates, “you’re…um…you’re in the broom’s way…”

Feng Xin, predictably, rages. “I’m- I’m in the broom’s way?! It’s a fucking broom!”

Xie Lian knows how it sounds, but he and Hua Cheng learned the hard way what exactly happens when you’re in the broom’s path while it’s trying to clean. They could have just tossed it out after, but it’s working so hard and it really just wants to help. “I know, I know, it’s just that it…has a bit of a temperament issue haha, you might want to…”

Feng Xin merely scoffs and squares his feet, pride as stubborn as ever. Seconds later, the broom swiftly floats up, meeting his eye level. Feng Xin glares at it suspiciously, and then it flips and starts wacking him on the head, the shoulders, the face. It still looks like it’s sweeping, just vertically now.

Feng Xin is flailing about, screaming and cursing. It’s not an ordinary broom—not just because it’s sentient, but because it was born from Xie Lian. The broom hits hard. Hua Cheng is now sitting up straight to get a full view of the live entertainment, delighted at getting the outcome he was so clearly hoping for. Mu Qing and Pei Ming are trying to avoid Feng Xin’s flying fists while laughing so hard they nearly lose balance trying to do both at once. Xie Lian is trying to calm the broom and talk it down, while also scolding Feng Xin because he shouldn’t have provoked it. It finally calms only once Feng Xin is in the other corner of the shrine, far out of its sweeping path.

“Bravo—nice!” Hua Cheng claps his hands and then snickers, “next, why don’t you see what happens when you piss off the cooking pot”. Pei Ming, who was standing a few inches from the stove, glances at the pot of steaming purple…whatever it is, then quickly gives a wide berth.

As they go to leave, they announce that next time they’ll just talk outside. Xie Lian chuckles nervously and they all follow his line of sight as his eyes drift towards…the axe.

And they thought paradise manor was the house of horrors between hualian’s homes…

//I’m fairly new to tumblr and don’t rly know the etiquette here (or social rules in general if I’m being honest) so I hope this is alright??//

Obsessed with the idea of Xie Lian getting his spiritual powers back and not really using them outside of like subconscious actions. Like in a fight he spent 800 years just straight up throwing hands so it doesn’t really occur to him to use it. But because he’s literally stuffed full of spiritual energy so it just results in Puqi Shrine becoming the fairies house in Sleeping Beauty. Like there’s a pot stirring itself while truly toxic ingredients are added to a soup. The floor is being sweeped by a broken broom. The laundry is being done automatically meaning all his white robes are now a faint pink. Hua Cheng is sitting in the bed grinning fondly at the chaos around him. Meanwhile Xie Lian is just sitting outside sorting out his junk piles to see if he can find the pretty comb he wanted to give his husband and thinking of the chores he has to do today because they didn’t leave the bed until noon.

[eddie-van-munson]

HII!! I see your requests are open😭 I hope your ok with me requesting this, and I might request more In the future but I’ll get started …

Can you do Eddie Munson with a S/O who has a xie lian personality?? you can find their personality on the wiki and more!!

thank you a lot!! hope it isn’t gonna be hard :)

First ask WOO! Ok so I know NOTHING about this or what it is but I did look it up and I used this page to guide me? I don't know if this is what you were looking for but I tried my damned hardest!!

Warnings: Gender Neutral (Except for use of the word "Princess" if that bothers you) Cursing, Eddie is Bullied

(I will get a "Read More" cut on this ASAP! Requests are WIDE open!!!)

***********

(Xie Lian: Loyal, Down-To-Earth Despite Status, Kind, Gentle, Treats Everyone Equally, Likes Helping Everyone, Polite, Easily Flustered, Sees the Best in People, Intelligent)

-Ok! So! Maybe you're pretty popular at Hawkins High, right?

-You're at the top of your class academically and you're on the cheer team. It's possible your parents are well-off so everyone knows your family.

-So Eddie and the rest of Hellfire kind of write you off, right? Because that is absolutely not their scene.

-At the beginning of Eddie's third Senior year, he's assigned a seat next to you in Trigonometry. Front of the class.

-Great.

-He doesn't say much to you, at first, but when he takes his seat one morning, you compliment his jacket and ask if he made it himself.

-He's confused and flustered, not entirely sure if you're making fun of him or being genuine.

-The next day he gets to class a little late. He's falling behind on notes and shit and he's determined to do better this year so he's digging around in his pockets for a pencil.

-When all of a sudden one appears neatly on the corner of his desk. Perfectly sharpened with your name engraved on this side. You've got to be kidding.

-He glances over to see you smiling at him sweetly, giving an encouraging nod towards the black board.

-The next day he's working on finishing the last of his homework before the bell rings and class starts.

-He let's out a soft curse and he's erasing his work when he feels you tap his shoulder.

- "Do you need help, Eddie? I know that's a hard one."

-He's still not sure whether or not he should trust you but your voice is so sweet.

- He frowns, "You know my name?"

-You giggle, "Of course I do, silly! You run Hellfire! I see you guys at lunch! It seems like a lot of fun!"

-What

-You start to help him with homework during Study Hall and Eddie is trying to fight for his life against his oncoming crush on you.

-But then one day when he's in the lunch line, Jason Carver comes up behind him and pours a milk carton down his shirt, shoving him so that he ends up on his ass with his lunch tray smeared all down the front of his Hellfire shirt.

-His ears are still ringing from where his head hit the floor, and he almost isn't sure if he's dreaming when he looks up to see you telling Jason tf off.

-Your little manicured fingertip pressed against his chest accusatorily with the cutest frown on your face.

-But then your attention turns to Eddie and you're kneeling beside him so quickly and pushing his lunch tray to the side, untangling a macaroni noodle from his curls.

-Mashed Potatoes are squishing beneath your shoes as you help him up but you don't even care.

-"Come on, Eddie. Let's get you cleaned up."

- Eddie follows you dumbly down to the empty locker room where the cheerleaders get ready so he can use the showers while you scrub the milk and food out of his shirt in the bathroom sink.

- You're holding it under the hand dryer when he wanders out sheepishly, wearing nothing but his pants and his worn out sneakers.

- "Better?" You chirp sweetly. He nods, blushing, and sits on the counter.

-You frown, noticing a bruise forming at his temple.

-"You hit your head?"

-Eddie turns to look in the mirror, shrugging. "Yeah, I must have."

-You bring him his, now perfectly clean, Hellfire shirt, pushing his hair back a little to study the bruise with a frown.

-Your hands are so gentle with him that his eyes flutter shut for a moment.

-"Why-....Why are you so nice to me?" Eddie hums softly. He hadn't really meant to say it, but your soft touch was very distracting.

- You pull back for a moment and frown, "Why wouldn't I be nice to you?"

-Eddie stared at you in amazement, a smile creeping to his face. "Do you want to come to Hellfire tonight?"

-Your eyes go wide, a grin splitting your face. "Really?"

-He laughs loudly, nodding. He should've known you'd be excited.

-You are there fifteen minutes early to help him set up because of course you are.

-Something about being there in his safe place and feeling like he owns this joint...he's  confident as shit in his newly sink-laundered shirt.

- He's slung across his ~throne~ when you show up.

- And God, you just look so perfect in your little cardigan, pink glossy lips smiling so big at him.

-You're carrying a composition book as if he's going to be expecting you to take notes on his campaign.

-He literally is in love.

- "Hey, Princess." He gives you a Cheshire grin, your cheeks and ears immediately going beet red. Your eyes fall to the floor as you smile shyly.

-"What is it?" He grins, knowing damn well what "it" is.

-"Princess..." You play with the hem of your shirt.

- "Hell yeah!" He stands from his throne, crossing his arms as he wanders over to you. "Got the Princess of Hawkins High at Hellfire with me. I'll scream that shit from the rooftops."

-You smile so big. Part of you was worried he'd be embarrassed about having you there. You don't exactly fit in with the rest of the club visually and you have no idea what you're doing. But he seems...

- Proud :"^)

- "I...I was worried I'd embarrass you." You mumble, scratching your neck.

-His heart melts a little.

-"You could never embarrass me."

- Your cheeks are burning and he's awful close. You gently brush his, now clean and fluffy, curls back again to look at his bruise. It's darkened just a bit.

- "It doesn't hurt anymore." You smile big at him, tucking some hair behind his ear, and the air is thick. "You're a good nurse."

-There's a silence

- "-EDDIE!" The door slams open as a Dustin and Mike run in.

-"Tell Mike that just because you roll a twenty doesn't mean-"

- "If I roll a twenty I can do whatever the hell I want!! That's a-"

- "It's up to the Dungeon Master, moron! That's the whole point of having a-"

- "Who's this?" Mike interrupts, putting a hand to Dustin's chest to shut up him, his eyes raking over you.

-Eddie felt a twinge of jealousy, which he knows is  ridiculous, because Mike is an actual child.

- "I'm Y/N! Eddie invited me to join!"

-The boys are all very suspicious of you at first but you very quickly hold your own.

-You're smart as a whip and he should have known you'd pick it up quickly, but Eddie can't help but feel some sort of way when he hears you correctly using game terminology and playing along.

-and by "some sort of way" I mean "a little turned on".

- By the end of the game, the other boys are already helping you develop your character and drawing little doodles on your character sheet with you.

-You stay after to help Eddie clean up bc ofc you do

-The two of you are silent for a long time before Eddie suddenly just, like, word vomits.

- "Do you wanna come over tomorrow? I live in a shitty trailer and it's gross as hell, you know? Like, it's embarrassing, but I can rent Labyrinth...I've rented it, like, seven times already since they got it in at Family Video, but I can't bring myself to rent anything else because I just see the Goblin King staring at me from the shelf like I've betrayed him and he's absolutely right because that movie is just so damn good. Have you seen it? The art and shit looks so wicked and the whole part with the Bog of Eternal-"

-"Eddie?"

-He looks up at you, his cheeks going so fucking pink.

-He scratches his neck awkwardly, "I'm sorry...god, I'm sorry I-"

-You wander over to him, smiling. You tuck some hair behind his ear, standing up on your tip toes and pressing a kiss to his cheek.

-"I like hearing you talk about things you love, Eddie."  You hum, smiling that sweet smile.

- You turn, headed for the door coyly and he watches you walk away in amazement.

- "Y/N?"

-Your eyes look so pretty as you turn to look at him.

-Eddie is fucking entranced with you. "I'll drive you over to mine after school?"

-You grin, "Pick me up by the gym."

***********

@blanket-anime-infos

[grrritz-ezra]

Qi Rong taking a piece of wood, not anything cool or especially deadly. No, it’s just a piece of wood from some old festival stand, and smashing the absolute fuck out of Xie Lian’s shrine. The few people from the Xianle kingdom are behind him and they’re crying. They’re just begging for someone to save them and they wish the destruction would stop. They wish all of it would stop. But no one steps forward to stop Qi Rong. It’s not worth it.

So he smashes every piece of it. He tears the paintings from the walls and he kicks over the offerings. He screams and curses while he knocks over the statue. And he waits for a second. He stands there with the wood in his hands and waits for something to happen. For Xie Lian to smack him upside the head and tell him to get his act together. Or for a bolt of lighting to strike him where he stands.

But nothing happens. He turns to the people and he tells them that their god is dead. That he’s abandoned them and their kingdom. That he abandoned his cousin. And that there’s no use in worshipping him. He can’t save them.

And when no one can bring themself to deny it, he ruins the statue. He kicks and punches until his fists go raw. Blood dripping onto it and staining its appearance until it’s nothing but red. Until there are no more words in his throat. And then he kicks everyone out, and he waits with the head of the statue. He’s not sure if he’s crying out of anger or out of despair, but he’s sure its pain.

Because he’d hoped that maybe, Xie Lian would prove him wrong just this once.

[iztarshi]

So I left some tags on a post @feng-xin wrote wondering what would have happened if Xie Lian had called out for Feng Xin at some point during his banishment after Feng Xin was a god and could potentially hear. Then I thought some more about that and started writing it.

But since I’m not sure where I’m going with it I want to post what I’ve got here.

*

Xie Lian slips into the shrine out of the rain and glances around quickly. It’s a small shrine, out of the way, and it doesn’t seem to have attendants so he relaxes and moves on to wringing out his hair. It’s a shame he doesn’t have his hat, but he’d stashed it somewhere safe when he agreed to be a Guoshi and it’s best it stays there for now. Who knows what’s about to happen to him and his few remaining possessions?

There’s a candle near the altar and Xie Lian lights it, both hair and clothes still wet enough to gleam like black ink in its light. He looks up to see which god he has to thank for his night’s shelter and freezes at the sight of a bow and arrow in the god’s hands. It doesn’t otherwise look much like Feng Xin, except where sloppy carving has turned what is meant to be a ferocious scowl into his normal irritable expression, but Xie Lian has to take a deep breath at the unexpected sight. He bows and then slides down to sit against the altar. When he leans his head back it’s almost resting against the statue’s foot.

The silver mask he pulls from his sleeve catches gold fire from the candlelight and he regards its bland features with affection. It’s kept him safe in the middle of the Yong’An court, and maybe now its absence would keep him safe again, but at what cost? Vengeance needs to be taken, and if Lang Qianqiu’s anger hurts his Guoshi enough perhaps there will be none left for the Xianle people. Lang Qianqiu is not a cruel person. One victim will be enough.

“Ah, Feng Xin,” he murmurs. “I wish you were here to tell me I’m about to do something stupid.”

Xie Lian closes his eyes. Tomorrow he should let himself be caught, before this chase wears away his resolve.

He wakes to a shadow looming over him too close to be the statue and opens his eyes to a far more familiar scowl. Feng Xin is half way through draping a cloak over him that’s worth more than everything in this shrine.

“Feng Xin?” he murmurs, sleepily. His eyes slide closed and then blink open fast as it sinks in. He sits up and pushes the cloak aside. “Oh, Feng Xin. I’m terribly sorry. Really! I had no idea that would count as a prayer. Please forgive me for bothering you.” He tries to bow while still half curled against Feng Xin’s altar and peeks up at Feng Xin’s expression. It’s no longer a scowl, but it doesn’t look pleased. Oh dear.

The silence stretches out between them, getting more awkward every second until it might become too awkward even for Xie Lian. Then Feng Xin shakes his head. “What stupid thing were you about to do?” he demands.

“Oh. Um.” There’s really nothing Xie Lian can do to stop Feng Xin watching him like a hawk now, so he’s going to have to convince him. He fidgets with his sleeves and Ruoye, inside one, gives him a comforting squeeze. “You heard about the slaughter of the Yong’An royals?” Feng Xin’s expression turns pained, as if he’s anticipating Xie Lian’s next words and Xie Lian tells himself that’s a good thing. Last time they were together Xie Lian had been hurting and hateful, if that’s enough to make Feng Xin accept this without question maybe he’ll accept that Xie Lian has to die for it. “I did that. And I’m going to have to answer for my crimes before what’s left of the Xianle people do.”

“Did the Xianle people pray for you to do it?”

“What? No.” Xie Lian thinks of Prince An’Lee, looking at him with eyes full of fanaticism and hope, telling him what they could do if they had a god on their side. “No, it was my idea.”

“Some of them have been praying to me,” Feng Xin says. “Asking me to curse Yong’An. Probably Mu Qing too, although that bastard might actually do it, he was eager enough to use Human Face Disease once…” He trails off, perhaps realising who he’s talking to and that Xie Lian has been the one to ‘do it’.

Xie Lian smiles painfully at him. “You should leave. This isn’t something you want any part in.”

“I’m not leaving you to get killed!”

“It’s fine. I’ve been killed lots of times now, I always get better.”

“What the fuck have you been doing to die that much?”

Feng Xin sounds aghast and Xie Lian wishes he could wear his mask right now because he can feel his smile trembling at the edges. It’s been too long since he’s had to use his own face as a mask. It’s been even longer, far longer, since he’s felt the urge to cry strongly enough to have to suppress it. Right now he’s fighting not to burst into tears as if he was six again and Feng Xin had found him at the bottom of a tree in the palace gardens, scratched up and bloody from his determination to climb it. He forces his smile back into a more solid form.

“It’s not easy being mortal,” he says. “At least I recover. Really, Feng Xin, I’ll be fine.”

[coffeeandritalin]

TGCF First Read Reactions - Ch. 5

**SPOILER WARNING**

(Probs spoiler warning from here on out since I’ve seen too many out-of-context spoiler posts)

Clearly I'm biased, but Heaven needs to calm down on its demotion punishments. First, XL's already emotionally and mentally suffered from watching his nation get demolished because he tried to help them. Then, getting demoted and kicked out already sucks but he also has to watch as all his temples and statues are torn down as people spit on his name. They also physically punt him out of heaven a la JGY style which creates injuries that apparently takes HUNDREDS OF YEARS to heal. His cultivation is destroyed and he has to resort to busking and collecting scraps. And apparently all that trauma and suffering isn't enough. Let's also slap on some shackles so that he can physically never leave his past behind him. Geeze, Officials! Chill!

- - -

NF and FY bicker like an old, married couple, and I absolutely love their dynamic.

Also FY absolutely refusing to let go of why Feng Xin has so many female followers and clearly having THE best time telling the story X-D.

I'm kind of loving how FX's personality is so dramatic and exaggerated. Took the dense man 10 freaking years to realize something wasn't right. I also have a very vivid image of FX running up to the peaks and sending out a round of curses into the sky. The absolute rage! The injustice! How could this do this to him!? And then just quietly forcing himself to sit through all these women shyly praying for bliss in their marital beds X-D (and also praying for sons, but the former is funnier to imagine him sitting through). Please don't change and please continue being a good guy/likable character.

Really starting to suspect NF and FY are actually FX and MQ. (Vaguely remembering seeing a post about how XL knew about two people's identity and intentionally being a little sh** about it, so I of course took a 1-2 hour detour from reading to dig up that post, and it is about these two but there's something about a banquet and there hasn't been a banquet yet, so now I'm more confused…)

I love how these boys are ready to tear each other's throat open, but they immediately unite over seeing XL trying to eat a bun he picked up off the floor 😆.

XL: "I believe that both of your Generals would never do something like this." / The moment he said those words, the expressions of the two martial gods turned a bit strange. - 😆 Clearly, FX and MQ definitely fight like this on the reg.

NF and FY are different kinds of dramatic, and I love both of them. Please never change. …Also, I'm very afraid it's going to become a problem that I love them so much so early (aka I really hope they don't evilly betray XL)…

XL: "…if it is necessary to abandon something, then please, just throw me away. Don’t ever throw away food." / Meanwhile, Nan Feng finally dug out the steamed bun Xie Lian had picked up again and held in his grasp - OMG XL 😆. You are the best. I can absolutely see NF at his wit's end while tearing the dirty bun out of XL's feral hands and poor XL going to the corner to cry and grow mushrooms after he loses the bun war 😆.

This is a very convenient puff of cold wind…

[nyerus]

Xie Lian and Hua Cheng’s Luck

I’ve been asked about the topic of Xie Lian and Hua Cheng’s luck on some servers and by friends a lot--so I thought I’d make a whole post on it for good measure, haha! This is as accurate to canon as possible, but there is also some theorycrafting involved since there are some missing gaps we have to fill in for ourselves.

So first off, we know that Hua Cheng was born under the Star of Solitude, a star sign that ensured that he would either be extremely unfortunate, or extremely fortunate:

Upon his birth, as a result of being under such a star sign, Hua Cheng absorbed all the misfortune released by Tonglu (and thus was also born with his unusual red eye). I.e., he ended up being born cursed. He was doomed to misfortune and hardship--but there was something that stopped it.

The Star of Solitude can be nullified if the person meets a savior figure. As we see in book 2, this is precisely what happens to Hua Cheng. When he falls from atop the stands during the ShangYuan parade in XianLe, he is caught and saved by Xie Lian. And interestingly, Xie Lian actually saves Hua Cheng multiple times in book 2 alone (in every sense of the word--physically, spiritually, etc).

While the first instance of being saved is certainly due to chance, one can actually even argue that the other instances where Xie Lian saved young Hua Cheng to be... rather lucky events. This is where some theorycrafting is involved, so it needn’t been taken wholeheartedly. But basically, it seems awfully lucky that Xie Lian was there to help young Hua Cheng all those times. From saving him from Qi Rong, to freeing him from the ghost lanterns. It could be chance, but it could also be chance that’s attributed with a little luck in Hua Cheng’s favor. We can conclude that after being saved during the ShangYuan parade, that’s when Hua Cheng’s luck started to turn around.

But even without that notion, we can continue onwards to a slightly different theory. That after Hua Cheng’s star sign and misfortune were nullified, his luck was as normal, maybe a little better. Certainly not at the level it is presently, but alright. However, after death, his luck could have reversed from that of his birth. Born unlucky, died and "reborn" lucky--if you want to get poetic or symbolic. (Xie Lian being at the right place at the right time to free Hua Cheng from the ghost lantern is actually shockingly lucky, all things considered.) But regardless, if we go off what Guoshi said: if Hua Cheng is not tragically misfortunate, then he will have the best of fortunes. And regardless of anything, his misfortune did not follow him after death--and certainly did not follow him after he became a Supreme. Thus, we can interpret this literally as an if;then statement, and conclude that now he must be 100% lucky because that’s the only option left.

The main point I want to make here though is that there’s a misconception that Xie Lian’s luck went to Hua Cheng, as his last believer--i.e., when Xie Lian got his 2nd cursed shackle. But this is not what happened, and is not what Xie Lian asked for!!! Xie Lian asks very simply for his luck to be dispersed in general to flow to the less fortunate. Xie Lian at that point in time thought that he had literally no believers left. He just watched as his last believer was destroyed in front of his own eyes. Who would he think would be left to absorb that luck? Thus, he asked for it to be dispersed in general:

Additionally, Xie Lian’s luck was never anywhere near the level that Hua Cheng’s presently is. Hua Cheng isn’t just relatively lucky--he has perfect luck to the point where he will always get the outcome he desires. Even if 100% of Xie Lian’s luck flowed to Hua Cheng, it would not get the latter to the heights of fortune he’s famous for anyway. Xie Lian was simply never lucky enough for that.

To move on though, it’s unclear the status of Xie Lian’s luck post-canon. Free from his cursed shackles, some of his original luck may have returned to him (or started to), or the dispersion could have been a permanent thing in the first place--it’s hard to say. There is not much evidence about it. At least he has a perfectly lucky husband by his side to make up for it, in any case!

TLDR; Hua Cheng is lucky not because Xie Lian’s luck went to him, but more likely because his star sign was nullified/reversed when Xie Lian saved him as a child during the ShangYuan parade. That, and/or it (further) polarized after his death and becoming a Supreme Ghost King into the Perfect Luck he has presently.

[touchmycoat]

blackwater arc reread: notes

okayo kayokayaokay

so several hundred years ago, baby qingxuan was born, and the White Thing was like, “you’re cursed!” the only way free of this super powerful Shit is if qingxuan becomes a god

shi wudu not only managed to find one person born in the exact same minute/hour as sqx, but also someone with the Xuan character in his name, and swaps the fates of sqx and hx

hx’s life falls apart and he loses everyone he loves to miserable deaths

sqx continues to be a golden child, and ascends to godlihood

the White THing haunts hx, but according to xie lian’s estimation, never really gets a meal from hx, ‘cause hx is just that steady, that hardcore—until the Confrontation with the White Thing, during which hx goes absolutely batshit, kills all the horrible people within reach, dies of his own power flipflop shit, and then turns around and swallows the white thing to boot

he’s so damn powerful he goes on to make it through Tonglu Mountain and become a Calamity

through swallowing the White Thing he learns the truth about the Shi brothers?

so as the Earth Master, the true Ming Yi is ascending, HX nabs that poor fucker, and takes his identity, and keeps him imprisoned to torture and extract information from

hx lives life as ming yi, hooks up with hua cheng somewhere along the way, and the two share singular purposes as they infiltrate heaven

sqx becomes determined to befriend hx

hx does not shy away from turning him down, but is, by xie lian’s later exposition (with pressing open his own wound to trigger the amulet), such an upstanding soul anyways that sqx is very, very determined to befriend him

all this while, hx is bidding his time. His goal is utter ruination for the brothers that destroyed his life, so he picks the time of swd’s third 天劫

he’s also been collecting live humans with miserable, miserable lives at his mansion

there are two possible outcomes he wants: 1) get a taste of your own medicine, sqx. you took a life that was not meant for you, now you’ll live among the most wretched.

(That outcome can only be realized by swd’s hands—so there’s a test for swd here as well, or more a taunt. Even when your little brother is desperate to repent in some kind of way, for both of you to survive, can you do it? Can you be the catalyst for giving sqx a life of suffering?)

2) go fuck yourself, swd. you can either make your baby brother miserable by giving him a wretched fate or make your baby brother miserable by making him responsible for your death. And sqx will live. He’s lived this long in blissful ignorance, hx will make sure he lives further in the most agonizing knowledge.

(This outcome wants sqx to stop choosing his brother.)

so he’s been collecting bad fates toward that end.

not long after xie lian’s third ascension, the real ming yi breaks out once and for all, sending up a help signal. hc and hx have an agreement, so hc goes to cover for hx, pretending like hx’s been undercover in his shit for years.

this is also when the real ming yi dies. hx puts the bones in his own mansion ‘cause where else can you put it.

(hc would drag hx to hell for his shit taste in interior decor)

The day hx enacts the plan, and has the White THing haunting sqx again, sqx tosses a wrench in his works by going to xie lian. Otherwise, hx probably just planned on scaring sqx a little (okay a lot), break his mind a little (a lot), and then take away sqx’s powers. Send him back to swd armed with the truth of what his brother’s done and see what sqx chooses.

(Over and over and over again, hx wants sqx to stop choosing swd.)

But. Okay. Xie Lian tags along. So hx puts his plan into motion, but has to keep swerving. Hence all the hide-and-seek, all the misdirection, all the gradual realizations in the black water arc.

He tries to ditch xl in the festival people, but surprise! xl can take over sqx’s body, and beats up hx’s kagebunshin no jitsu

(hc gets REAL mad at hx about this, which is frankly hilarious ‘cause hx is just like. “?!?!?!?! YOUR babe’s the one messing with OUR pl—” and hc’s like “shut UP dianxia does no wrong this is YOUR problem bITCH”)

hx goes to save sqx after swd has sqx tied up but surprise! xl is there again. they get to the rain master’s to hide. pm takes sqx to go see swd, and sqx agrees.

which hx takes as a confirmation of sqx’s complicity

but xl gets dragged along yet again, with hc’s insistent company. at blackwaters hx does his best to separate the group, taking the most important sqx. but fucking swd meets up with xl and they end up in the mansion together

so hx fakes being poisoned so he can send everybody away. hc helps him out.

so hualian are back at puji shrine. xie lian has everything pretty much pieced together, and so nyooms back into sqx’s body in a last ditch attempt to help.

he witnesses the entire shit show

hx is such a specific man, with such specific grievances. he wants vengeance. it’s hard to say whether this vengeance is proportional or not because what happened to him was so fucking disproportionate. he knows the main culprit is swd, and wants him brought down, wants him torn from his godly status. He succeeds in this by failing swd at his third 天劫, then basically going “I’ll tell everyone what you did”

sqx is more complicated. sqx is ignorant, but is the furthest thing from innocent.

but sqx knows it too. between the two brothers, he’s the one reacting with the most compassion. He acknowledges the horror of what’s been done, and knows there really isn’t anything he can say. He’s not here to beg for mercy, he doesn’t have the right.

hx asks if he’d die then

he says yes, but probably knows at this point that’s not something hx even particularly wants

sure enough the choices were put to them

sqx would’ve so very gladly chosen the fate switch. yeah, it’d suck, but honestly he knows it’s the least he deserves. god this is fucked. He’s been reaping the benefits of someone else’s ruined life all this time and he doesn’t even know how to begin making up for it. but hx gave them options! This is fine!

but swd wouldn’t take it. to his last breath swd is a stubborn prideful motherfucker, and refuses to let everything fall the way hx wants. so he’s determined to blast a third option onto the table—his own death, but not at sqx’s hands. and no fate switch either, if he’s relatively confident he’s the only one who can do it.

(swd would only die like that if he’s decently confident of hx’s character? if he saw through to hx’s bottom line in the options hx presented them—that hx’s not some mad fuck out for any desperate shred of revenge, but actually never once wants sqx dead. But, well, maybe swd just measured everything up and saw that if he lived for any longer, he’d only serve to bring further pain to himself and sqx.)

(sqx must be so fucking pissed swd wouldn’t let them choose the first option though)

so we get these through-lines of CHOICE. Isn’t it so fucking brilliant that SWD, with all his love for SQX, never once gave SQX a choice that matters, and HX’s pivotal introduction to SQX’s life is a choice. A choice that SQX made, by the way. I really do think that counts for something, and HX knows it.

IMPORTANT MOMENTS:

SQX calling the wrong name—symbolizing his ignorance. Not knowing is complicity too, when you’re the beneficiary.

“Do you have anything you want to say to me?”—this is the first thing HX offers SQX after SWD’s death. why?

[chaptersinprogress]

to get rid of temptation (yield to it)

“The only way to get rid of a temptation is to yield to it. Resist it, and your soul grows sick with longing for the things it has forbidden to itself, with desire for what its monstrous laws have made monstrous and unlawful.”

Oscar Wilde, The Picture of Dorian Gray

Rating: T

Warnings: swearing

Pairings: Feng Xin/Mu Qing

Mu Qing snarled wordlessly as he stomped through the temple, torches flaring alight with every stride along the darkened corridors. For fuck’s sake, he had far better things to do than to clear Jun Wu’s rediscovered temples of any traps or unwelcome guests so that the literature gods could catalogue their contents and strip them of anything useful for the Heavens.

His robes skimmed the floor, sending clouds of dust swirling in the air. Seemed like no one had stepped foot in the place for decades; most of the temple having already fallen apart to ruins. It was a rather small one all things considered. There had been hardly any protective measures in place so he fully expected to be in and out within minutes.

Just as he was about to write off the temple as cleared, silver glinted out of the corner of his eye and Mu Qing immediately spun around, sabre in hand.

But there was nothing to be seen - only the empty stretch of hallway that he’d walked through, shadows from the torches dancing on the walls. Remaining on guard, Mu Qing slowly backtracked the way he’d come, ears straining for the slightest whisper of sound that would give away the enemy’s position.

That was when he caught sight of the silver gleam again, coming from a shallow indent in the wall.

Mu Qing approached cautiously. As he drew closer, it became clear that the reflection was from a thin plate of silver resembling a latch of some kind, with a faint array scratched into the stone around it. Deciphering it, Mu Qing scoffed.

Blood as an entry fee. How barbaric.

It was a wonder that the former Heavenly Emperor managed to hide his Devastation status for so long if his temples had these kinds of wards as protection for its contents.

Drawing a finger lightly across the edge of his blade, Mu Qing smeared the drop of blood that welled up onto the silver, then sealed the minor cut with spiritual energy.

A rumbling groan echoed through the enclosed space as a section of stone slid backwards then to the side, revealing a hidden chamber. Mu Qing sent a brief stream of spiritual energy through the doorway to check for any dormant arrays or hostile presence.

Nothing. He’d have to go inside to check the place more thoroughly.

Entering the chamber, Mu Qing couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow. The room was startlingly bare - the sole item in the empty space being a bronze full-length mirror taking centrestage.

There was no fucking way that thing was an ordinary mirror.

He circled the thing from a distance, careful not to look directly at the shining surface. But despite studying it from every other angle possible, the mirror gave absolutely no hint of being anything other than what it looked.

Mu Qing rolled his eyes and sighed exasperatedly. Fucking Jun Wu and his stupid fucking shit. He was going to have to look straight at it, wasn’t he? Well if that stupid mirror made any signs that it might kill him (the permanent kind), he was going to descend and spend the rest of eternity haunting the fucking bastard.

If Crimson Rain could ascend as a ghost, surely he could do the opposite?

Shelving the thought, Mu Qing strode confidently to stand in front of the bronzed surface. His reflection glared right back at him, a perfect mirror of his own stance - from the casual drape of his robes over his arms to the unforgiving set of his mouth, even the slight arch of his raised eyebrow. A minute passed, but there was not even the most infinitesimal change in his reflection’s posture.

Well… that was surprisingly anti-climatic.

Having had enough, Mu Qing made to turn and exit the chamber. But before he could move, a splash of white bloomed beside his reflection, as if someone had poured a trickle of ink into a pool of water.

A strangled sound escaped Mu Qing.

Because somehow Xie Lian was beaming brightly at him - no, the reflection of him - from the mirror.

“Dianxia?” he exclaimed flabbergasted, head snapping to the side - for some reason expecting to see the martial god by his side even though he knew fully well that no one could’ve entered the room without him noticing.

He refused to acknowledge the way his stomach dropped slightly when he was met with empty air.

Turning back to the mirror, Mu Qing startled backwards violently. Another painfully familiar god had joined the figures in the bronze surface, filling the empty space to the left of his reflection.

A vambrace-covered forearm rested on Mu Qing’s shoulder as the male leaned in to speak lowly into his ear. Mu Qing’s reflection rolled his eyes, but a small smile played on his lips, clearly amused by what was being said.

Feng Xin - because it was Feng Xin standing next to him in the mirror - laughed, a genuine one that crinkled his eyes and softened his features. Mu Qing’s chest tightened. When was the last time Feng Xin had ever laughed in his presence? So genuinely and with him, not at him.

Xie Lian leaned forward slightly to say something to the archer, to which Mu Qing’s reflection shot a reply. Whatever he’d said earned him a playful shove from Feng Xin - Xie Lian bracing him with a fond smile so that he didn’t topple over - before he was once again crowded by the martial god of the southeast.

A surge of longing washed over Mu Qing like a tidal wave, knocking the very breath out of him. It was everything he’d ever dreamed of. The three of them standing side-by-side as equals. Without the spectres of the past misunderstandings, hurts and animosity that haunted them.

As friends.

The figures in the mirror turned around and began to walk away, still caught up in their conversation. And like a moth drawn to a flame, Mu Qing stumbled forward blindly, reaching out to keep hold of them for just a little bit longer.

He realised his mistake far too late.

The bronze surface rippled and parted at his touch, then dragged him inside.

And spat him back out into the private gardens of his palace.

WHAT. THE. FUCK?

The riot of colour around him was jarring, near-blinding in fact, after the drab tones of the temple and the burnished copper tinge of the images in the mirror. Shielding his eyes from the light, Mu Qing cursed under his breath.

Ahead of him, the trio made their way to the shelter of a large flowering tree near the walls of the garden as if nothing had occurred, utterly unfazed by the sudden change in location.

Xie Lian, or whatever it was pretending to be him, sat down on the ground beneath the tree, patting the space beside him in invitation. The other versions of Mu Qing and Feng Xin casually folded themselves down next to him, uncaring of the possibility that they might dirty their robes, and Mu Qing felt a sour taste coat his mouth.

He watched himself mutter something to Feng Xin, who reared back with an offended look on his face. 

“You take that back!” the archer shouted, before leaping onto the other Mu Qing and knocking them both to the ground.

In that split second Mu Qing’s heart dropped.

Of fucking course their fragile peace wouldn’t last long. It was just like him to fuck up every single good thing he had. He took a few steps forward, having half the mind to go grab that version of himself and shake the stupidity out of him.

Xie Lian’s bright laugh brought that train of thought to a screeching halt. “Nice punch, Feng Xin! Mu Qing, pin his legs!”

Mu Qing’s jaw dropped. Was… was dianxia yelling encouragement? Did the idiot hit his head?!

He took a second look at the scuffling pair. They were rolling around in the dirt, hair and fists flying everywhere. But conspicuously absent was the massive property damage that came along with their centuries-long rivalry.

And he would know. He’s had to entirely rebuild this exact garden five times because of it. Mu Qing’s lip curled. The pair’s roughhousing resembled that of the younger disciples of the temple in Xian Le. For fuck’s sake, he’d seen literal children do more damage to each other that the two figures on the ground. Martial gods his ass.

“Alright, alright, that’s enough,” Xie Lian called out.

The two gods of the south paused. Feng Xin had pinned the other Mu Qing to the ground, knees bracketing the other’s hips. With a huff, he rolled off the god to lie on the ground beside him. Xie Lian shuffled over to them and smiled.

“You two never change,” he commented softly, gently tugging the other Mu Qing’s hair from beneath him to spread it out, then picking out the few leaves and blades of grass that had tangled in the strands.

Mu Qing had to suppress the instinctive urge to swat the hand away at the sight.

(A prince shouldn’t be helping to neaten his servant’s hair)

Once Xie Lian had gotten all the bits out, he patted Mu Qing’s shoulder, and the other god sat up with a sigh.

Looking over at Feng Xin, the other Mu Qing snorted. “Come here, idiot. You look stupid like that; your hair’s a fucking mess.”

Feng Xin must’ve heard the affection veiled by the insult because he merely huffed and sat himself up, turning his back to that Mu Qing as the other got to his knees for a better angle.

Mu Qing fisted his robes as he watched himself carefully pull out the knocked-askew crown and undo the thoroughly messed-up topknot. Long fingers gently carded through waves of chestnut hair, straightening out the dishevelled locks and removing tangles.

Beside them, Xie Lian rested his back against Feng Xin’s shoulder and pulled out a small pouch from his sleeve. Tipping the ruby-red contents out onto his palm, he wordlessly offered them to the archer.

Quietly thanking him, Feng Xin took a few of the sweet fruits. Then held one of them up for the other Mu Qing. Mu Qing choked as the latter bent down to eat it right out of Feng Xin’s fingers in a single smooth motion, as if it had been done a hundred times before.

The sheer intimacy of it all had heat suffusing Mu Qing’s cheeks and he tore his gaze away.

What the fuck was going on?! It had to be something the mirror came up with! There was no way they’d- he’d- ! He’d never! His fingers twitched by his side as a dark emotion dug its claws heavily into his chest.

(Liar)

His traitorous eyes wandered back to the pair. The other Mu Qing was gathering all of Feng Xin’s hair together, easily twisting it into the familiar bun and pinning the crown back in place. A part of him couldn't help but snidely question just why the action looked so practised. With the hair ornament securely attached, Feng Xin tipped his head backwards to look at the god.

And the breathtaking smile that he gave the other was the final straw that broke the chains on the ugly emotion curled around his heart.

Why?! Mu Qing’s blood roared loudly in his ears. Why was this version of him the one who had it all?!

He wanted he WaNteD HE WANTED -

“Mu Qing!”

He snapped his head to the side so fast he couldn’t believe he didn’t end up breaking his neck. Then stared hard, looked at the pair in front of him, then back again.

Wait.

Wait a fucking second. TWO Feng Xins?

He gaped at the newest version of the god. Why the fuck was there TWO of them now? Alright that confirmed it; he’d lost his fucking mind.

But if the mirror’s depiction of Feng Xin was like the sun at its zenith, this one was the pale imitation of that light from a waning moon. Weariness weighed on him as heavily as the armour he wore, the leather and metal scuffed and worn from days of constant use instead of the polished gleam Feng Xin usually took meticulous care to ensure.

Strands of hair had fallen free from the topknot to hang limply around his face. But unlike the bird’s nest from the other Feng Xin’s earlier scuffle, this one looked like it had been caused by fingers running roughly through the tresses from frustration.

“Mu Qing,” his name was exhaled with no small amount of relief as the new Feng Xin hastily strode over.

He watched as the god lifted his hand to touch him then hesitated, fingers just hovering above the skin of his wrist - so close, yet so far.

“Mu Qing...” A thin undercurrent of pleading buoyed the words.

(But whatever could he be asking for? Feng Xin would never beg. Not to him)

Mu Qing lifted his gaze to meet red-rimmed eyes.

“Let’s go back, ok? Dianxia and everyone... we’re- we’re all waiting for you. So let’s go back.”

What was he saying? There was no way this Feng Xin was talking about Mu Qing. He must be referring to the other one from the mirror. The one who stood beside the other two gods like he belonged there, was wanted there-

But this Feng Xin had eyes only for him. It was as if the perfect group of three in the garden didn't even register.

“Don’t-” Feng Xin’s voice cracked. “Don’t leave me again. Please.”

Fuck... Mu Qing was a weak, weak man.

(Then again, he’d always been ready to give the other the world. All he’d ever had to do was ask)

So what did it matter if it was yet another illusion conjured by the damned mirror to destroy him?

Feng Xin had asked.

He took in a shallow, shuddering breath, letting his eyes fall down to that miniscule gap that separated their hands. And why not? Everything he’d wanted was already within his grasp.

Taking that terrible leap of faith, Mu Qing reached out to link their fingers, and held tight.

“Gege, he’s waking up.”

Mu Qing groaned and cracked his eyes open just in time to see a flare of crimson pass by him. His head ached fiercely like he’d attempted to break a stone wall with his skull alone (been there done that; 0/10, would not recommend) and his ears felt like they’d been stuffed with cloth. Blinking, he looked up to see Xie Lian’s face hovering over him.

“Oh good!” said Xie Lian brightly, but remaining mindful of keeping his voice down. “You’re awake!”

As Mu Qing became more coherent, he was slowly made aware of the almost-crushing pressure that was being exerted on his left hand. Angling his head downwards, he caught a glimpse of gold armour, dark red and brown robes, and long hair tied up in a messy but unmistakable knot.

Xie Lian followed his gaze and smiled. “Feng Xin was the one who finally found you,” he said in a hushed whisper. “He ran himself ragged for days. It was pure luck that on the third time all of us searched the area that he managed to locate the entrance to the temple.”

“And just in time too,” Xie Lian continued, Mu Qing finally noticing the worn-out look the other had been trying to conceal.

“The mirror had been draining your spiritual energy for nearly a week by the time Feng Xin managed to break through the array around the chamber. Even if you had managed to escape the mirror, the array would’ve sealed you in, having fed off your energy.”

“A week?” Mu Qing repeated dumbly, aghast.

Xie Lian nodded. The weight across his legs shifted, and Feng Xin slowly sat up in his chair.

“Dianxia?” he asked blearily. Then shifted to look at Mu Qing who was watching him, face carefully blank. “Mu Qing! You’re awake!” he said loudly, devastating relief crossing his features and dripping from his words like too-sweet honey.

It sent a pang through Mu Qing, reminding him of the Feng Xin in the mirror who had so casually touched him, laughed with him, and looked at him like… like…. He ruthlessly squashed that train of thought before it could lead somewhere dangerous. He couldn’t afford to mix the mirror’s illusions with reality. Not again.

To cover his moment of weakness, Mu Qing rolled his eyes and fell back into old (safe) patterns. “Thanks for stating the obvious, idiot. You look like shit.”

Feng Xin let out a wet half-snort, half-giggle. “Now who’s stating the obvious, idiot.”

“Oh look at the time,” said Xie Lian, unsubtly trying to give the pair some privacy. “I’ve received a few prayers I need to attend to. Get better soon Mu Qing!”

Before Mu Qing could even open his mouth to protest, Xie Lian had fled the room, leaving the two remaining gods in awkward silence. Feng Xin seemed content to just stare at him, the weight of his gaze pressing unerringly onto the tender wounds that had been split open by the mirror’s illusions.

Mu Qing desperately searched for anything that might serve as a distraction.

His eyes landed on the archer’s mop of hair and he let out an amused snort as the words dropped unthinkingly from his lips. “Come here, idiot. You look stupid like that; your hair’s a fucking mess.”

Then froze, the perfect echo of his reflection’s words ringing in his ears.

Feng Xin blessedly decided not to comment on his strange actions, and his even stranger reaction, sliding himself off the chair to sit on the floor beside Mu Qing's bed.

Puzzled by the easy acquiescence but thankful that he hadn’t been outright rejected, Mu Qing gingerly sat up, scooting over to the edge of the mattress. He settled his feet on either side of Feng Xin’s waist, pressing his ankles to the other’s hips in wordless encouragement for him to lean back.

The archer obliged, letting his head rest in Mu Qing’s lap. Taking a deep breath, Mu Qing moved to remove the crown and topknot.

And promptly found out that it was much harder than the other him made it look.

With a lot of cursing, tugging, and obligatory teasing from Feng Xin, Mu Qing finally managed to divest the other of the various hair implements that secured the hairstyle. Aiming one final jab into Feng Xin’s side with his toes to shut him up, Mu Qing allowed himself to lightly run his fingers through the strands.

In all honesty, it wasn’t the most pleasant experience. The unwashed hair was grimy from the accumulated dirt and oil that had built up and carried a faint scent of stale sweat. It also fought against his attempts to straighten it out, stubbornly clinging to the kinks formed from remaining pinned up as it was for so long. The battle to get the hair into a style with some semblance of neatness was a long and arduous one.

But he wouldn’t give the opportunity up for the world.

Finishing, Mu Qing leaned back to study his handiwork. The knot was a bit lopsided, with a few strands sticking up rebelliously, and the crown was always just slightly off-centre no matter how many times he’d tried to adjust it. It was incomparable to Feng Xin’s usual hairstyle - the other having centuries of practise in doing it the way he liked it - or even the other him’s effortless work.

(It was fucking perfect)

“How do I look?” Feng Xin asked.

“Why’re you asking me?” Mu Qing deflected, embarrassment at his uncharacteristic actions seeping in. He pushed the other off his legs and turned his face away. “Go see for yourself.”

A hand caught hold of his and Mu Qing looked back to find Feng Xin standing in front of him, eyes fixed on their joint hands.

“I think… I’ve had enough of mirrors for a while,” he murmured.

Oh.

Mu Qing let his gaze drop to join Feng Xin’s. “Me too,” he said quietly.

“I- I saw a bit of what the mirror showed you,” Feng Xin began, and Mu Qing’s blood ran cold.

He jerked backwards, mouth opening to say something - anything - but Feng Xin’s grip on his hand tightened painfully, unequivocally thwarting any escape attempt.

“I couldn’t believe it at first,” the words spilled out of Feng Xin’s mouth almost desperately as he got louder and louder. “It seemed so crazy; that- that the three of us could spend time together so peacefully, without immediately breaking into a fight.”

“But I want that!” he was almost yelling, as if he could simply drown out anything Mu Qing might’ve said to pretend the whole thing never happened.

“I want us to be like what the mirror showed we could be! I want the three of us to laugh together, to sit together without breaking into a fight. I don’t want us to be enemies anymore! I want to spend time with you, to be close to you, to- to be something more.”

Feng Xin took in a deep breath, and the sudden lack of sound in the room was almost deafening.

“Do- do you think you might want to?” he asked quietly. “Be something more with me?” 

Fuck.

Fuck, all Feng Xin ever had to do was ask.

Mu Qing grasped Feng Xin’s hand equally tightly. “Yes,” he exhaled, trying to conceal the tremor in his voice. “I want to- I want to try. L-let’s try. To be something more.”

The answering smile he received was far brighter than anything that mirror could’ve shown him.

[sunmaylight]

TGCF Book 2 Reaction pt. 4

Okay. Let’s finish this for book 2, then I can post stuff about book 3 after this

I have decided to split instead of my OG plan because like I said last post, my reading app decided to cram Ch 82-88 into one reading count, so I got a counter that said that Ch 82 has like 100 some pages and I firmly decided that I will read that later.

I said and did what I promised and became a wreak after the end of book 2 cause of all of the drama and development that happened. Book two is literally about Xie Lian growing up and I got so emotional from the environment that forced him to.

Ch 82: The effects of the aphrodisiac-like drug were paused somehow.

- Me: Hm, was it cause Xie Lian cut himself and drained some of the blood away? Or was it cause some of his blood mixed with Hong Hong-Er’s blood was inserted into his bloodstream. Wait, if that is true. Xie Lian is lucky with his divinity he doesn’t get blood poisoning. 

The affects of the curse-drug are affecting Xie Lian and the novel is slowly climbing to the R-18 levels based on sounds.

- Me: Oh, Hong Hong-Er. I wish you luck and that you NEVER find out what those sounds mean until you are older.

Xie Lian ties a piece of his hair to Hong Hong-Er’s finger on one hand.

- Me: Wait, if Hong Hong-Er becomes Hua Cheng in the future, then...oh! This is where the red string ring on his hand comes from?

* Learns about Ch 83 *

- Me: Wait. -checks table of contents- *sob* oh thank god. There are like four more chapters to go instead of one really long chapter

Ch 83: Xie Lian pulled a Nagito Komaeda.

- Me: *Sob* Xie Lian, no! I understand why, but nooooo!

Feng Xin and Mu Qing find Xie Lian on the ground with the sword and freaks out. Then once Xie Lian is out, they explain that Yong’An has hidden backers secretly supplying them supplies for war.

- Me: Fu-dge. It’s getting bigger than expected.

Xie Lian comments to his retainers that the Young Solider has the potential to wield the Sabre, like Mu Qing. Mu Qing: *Unreadable expression*

- Me: Oh, is Mu Qing jealous? I think Mu Qing is jealous of a teenager

Back at Xian Le: Xie Lian runs into Hong Hong-Er again. Hong Hong-Er says he got kicked out of the army because...

- Me: ...Did baby Hong get kicked out the army because the army found out about his cursed existence? *Gasp* What if Mu Qing did something out of spite/jealousy. 

Ch 84: First victim found to possess the Human-Face disease is found in Xian Le. Everyone starts to freak out because of the large commotion it made. The ‘Face’ is revealed to be functional somehow.

- Me: *Reading the description* Oh gods. I think I’m going to be sick.

Hong Hong-Er tries his best to help Xie Lian do damage control

- Me: Awe, Hong Hong-Er. How adorable. You are trying to seek attention

Hey, remember the child of Lang Ying that was buried near the temple? Yeah, it became a curse/demon after being buried for over a decade without proper rites.

- Me: *Sigh* Why am I not surprised. Actually, I am very surprised. This was near a sacred place and NO ONE noticed this slowly growing into something dangerous an alarming rate.

Human-Face disease is growing and people are desperate. They turn to Xie Lian thinking he could do something instead of trying to find an alternative solution.

- Me: Man, I am so glad for modern medicine and the ability to have multiple paths taken to try and find the solution to this problem.

Learning about Human Face disease

- Me: Will make another post for theorization of how the disease come to be, but for now.

- Me: Wait, if the cursed child grew from almost over a decade ago, then that means Hong Hong-Er is like around 15 now...Holy shit.

Ch 85: Xie Lian created an idioms punishment if Feng Xin and Mu Qing’s arguing went out of control

- Me: Aww, how cute. This will also be good practice to familiarize one self with literature and language. 

Guoshi asking Xie Lian the hard, but necessary hard questions. Scolding Xie Lian for his naive ways of thinking and he should have listened to Guoshi from the beginning. Says that this matter with the kingdom of Xian Le is going out of control cause of Xie Lian

- Me: I know that the Guoshi is trying to drill the important stuff into Xie Lian’s head. But he is also at fault for omitting/withholding important information that Xie Lian should have learned

- Me: Flipping balancing act, that is ugh.

Yong’An troops is now classified as an army. The battles become bigger. Lang Ying is shown in a one-on-one battle with Xie Lian that he has a Deus Ex Machina effect attached to him

- Me: Oh no. That is not good. That is a sign of the shift in power and Xian Le will, the inevitable is coming. 

Human-Face Disease: Becomes sentient and eats and screams

- Me: O-oh *Blegh* Not good.

Ch 86: Xie Lian took a nap and woke up to a quilt on him

- Me: Who placed that on him? Hong Hong-Er? Did you do it?

The rapidly declining situation is now affecting Xie Lian to the point that he snaps. He punches a tree. Scared of the enemy and is getting desperate?

- Me: “To rise is human. To fall is also human” Shit, that is coming true now.

Xie Lian trying to call out for the White-Clothed Ghost. Said Ghost appears & tells how the Human-Face Disease came to be to Xie Lian

- Me: I already made a post about this. No need for repeat

- Me: The Human-Face disease. I am actually curious how it came to be.

Ch 87: Reveals the origin of the Human-Face disease in his bedroom to his retainers. Knows how to cast, but no cure

- Me: Oh god. It is a curse with no counter spell. Oh no.

Xie Lian and Mu Qing are fighting. Feng Xin, stays quiet until he can’t take it anymore and snaps.

- Me: Ah, a fallout? No, an argument. This is the start of the splintering between these three. Mu Qing always says the blunt truth with no consideration of how this will affect people later.

Earthquake? Happens later. Qi Rong jumps out from under the bed

- Me: Oh no. Fu-dge, it’s bratty Qi Rong. He is going to blabble, I can feel it

Ch 88: Xie Lian calls upon a giant golden statue of himself to hold up the Celestial Pagoda from falling

- Me: Wow! Gundam. Xie Lian can control an ancient Chinese Mecha. Wait, *inhales* o-oh. Atlas. Xie Lian is now representing Atlas.

Xie Lian’s strength is failing him. All he can do is hold up the pagoda.

- Me: Xie Lian is losing belief. No, not that. Also is anyone going to do anything to evacuate precious items form the Pagoda before it will eventually fall?

Qi Rong blabbles about the Human-Face disease. It makes everything more stressful for Xie Lian

- Me: Goddamnit, Qi Rong. I called it.

The outbreak of the Human-Face disease in the capital + Yong’An finally invaded the capital, people going to Xie Lian asking him to fix them even though he can’t. All of it builds up and then Xie Lian falls and breaks his leg. After, changes as something indescribable is lost.

= Me: ...oh Xie Lian. 

- Me: Depression...?

Xie Lian thinks he is a god of misfortune. Watches his temples burn with no emotion. Empty.

- Me: ...Xie Lian. I can’t understand how you are feeling, but the void and empty feeling? I can relate.

There is one temple of Xie Lian that was going to burn, but stopped. It is revealed a young teen has been protecting this temple. A painting of Xie Lian is revealed.

- Me: ..Hong Hong-Er is that you?

Xie Lian decides to let this teen see him on whim for a second. His retainers and the teen are surprised. Xie Lian tells the teen to forget him,

The teen: “IN MY HEART, YOU ARE GOD!”  “I WILL NEVER FORGET YOU!”

- Wow. I can hear the theme music play in an uplifting tune.

MXTX Author’s note read

- Me: Wow. All of this story so far for this one image. Amazing.

Okay. Book two got me emotional like I said before that I read straight to book three next. Once I have a good place in book three, I will do a post then

[mousehole5000]

reading tgcf chapters 72 - 88 end of book 2. body horror kind of in this one. if you know you know and i did include an excerpt of it

i didnt take any notes from 72-76 but uhhhh shit has hit the fan

fuuuuuuck. but he couldnt get there fast enough and then THAT happened to that family FUCK :(

xie lian has indeed been greatly sheltered and this is a painful if inevitable moment. very curious about where he goes from here :(

:pensive: the universe has its own rhythm. perhaps it does but im wondering if this is part of it orrrrrrr

wait theres a girl. shes pretty. feng xin is impressed by her this is a first. is she going to be important? is it too much to ask for? to see a girl do things?

xie lian and the king... i sad. but the anger is real from both sides regardless of their arguments. i sad

ahhh flashbacks to religious studies. read a whole essay about contagion magic vs similarity magic. pretty sure it was by one of those early anthropologists who were ummm racist but this is definitely a thing that people do

damn so xie lian’s first experience of killing anyone was during the revolt and he killed thousands. wow. “mere ants” like those crushed for him by servants. hoooo boy

:pleading: hes so good and im so sad for him to painfully learn that just being good isn’t enough

awwwww. </3

ohhh wait i think the epub version doesnt spoiler out the authors notes awwww i was enjoying the mystery but okay. not sure if i would have guessed this without tbh theres a lot of kids (2) running around with bandages in this book. but i guess the saber thing isnt likely to be anything else. also ohhhhhhhhh hong hong-er... little reddie... ah i see now :(

land of the tender; body of gold hard pressed against desire. hmmmm. im. hmmm. remember that scene with the prostitute in ghost city and how i was glad it ended quickly? i miss those days. i mean murderous desires/lustful desires okay sure thats something fine but. hmm not so sure how i feel about the rest of this. and the hair thing has significance according to the notes. i mean. hmm. moving on for now. ive seen spoilers for more about hualian’s relationship but im gonna wait to comment on it until i know everything

i would actually be curious to see feng xin and mu qing interact without xie lian when theyre still having to work together i wonder if they are more chill or less chill bc clearly feng xin cares a lot about xie lian and im wondering what theyre like with each other without him around. to be fair tho since theyre his generals im not sure if theres much room for that

human face disease time. oh boy. things really are only getting worse. im also suspecting that this disease was intentionally brought into the city to hasten its downfall but we shall see

saving this for the illustration of the differences between feng xin and mu qing. not sure what it says about me but im finding mu qing relatable that is 100% what i would do but i feel much more fond of feng xin. interesting

thank you for being a beacon of amusement in these trying times. distract your bickering friends by forcing them to play improv games. also the differences between fx and mq continue to interest me

awfully convenient there guoshi. i have to say that its looking more and more like the bad shit thats happening in xianle was actually not to do with xie lian. the fact that the yong’an rebels were being supplied? whatever the fuck is going on with lang ying.... i could be wrong but thats what im thinking im wondering how much of this was already laid out or at the very least poised to happen before xie lian intervened

here it comes this is the unsettling body horror bit

BRUHHHHHHHH. HORRIFIC. IM SORRY BUT I WOULD LIKE TO SEE IT IN ADAPTATION FOR THE CHILLS IT WOULD GIVE ME.

hmmm after this its mu qing who is like “hey ummm you kinda just chopped that guy’s leg off when he hadn’t actually asked you to. kinda fucked up also could definitely turn on you” makes sense that it was mu qing who said that he’s clearly very smart and bc of his background he’s more likely to think of things from a different perspective than xie lian and feng xin. he’s been scornful of commoners before but he definitely understands them more so than the other two

just when i thought this couldnt get more horrific. no rest for anyone what an awful fate

saving this as a note on mu qing as a character and his attitude towards xie lian. what xie lian says here about the curse is interesting. the faces/souls vs the ones they are infecting. its awful for both of them and neither are the only truly at fault theyre being pit against each other

its telling that mu qing is the one who is telling xie lian that line about there not being a second cup of water. also BIG ARGUMENT im bookmarking this to come back to in the present day

looks like celestial palace is coming down and im bitterly remembering the fact that xie lian toppled his own statue earlier to let lang ying get away... who then presumably planted the curse.... sighs

the bits with xie lian’s parents made me tear up. this is, what the kids call, relatable.

hmmm dont think feng xin is always going to feel this way lmao

oohh that is a cool image

i.... sad. and so book 2 ends!!! im wondering when we find out exactly how the split between our trio went down. im sure its sad

politically im still not sure exactly what the message is trying to be i mean obviously theres corruption that completely throws the poor under the bus but so far its also been clear that xie lian actually cant do anything about it. but!!! also xie lian doesnt understand a lot about the world, he’s been sheltered and he’s a prince and he wants to save the world and i love him for that but he hasn’t seen what the reality of life is for a lot of people he’s looking at everything from the position of the nobility and even with all his kindness i dont think thats ever enough to bring about meaningful change. how can it? idk but we still got a LONG ways to go

[pengiesama]

Panopticon (Fic, TGCF/Coraline AU, HC/XL)

Title: Panopticon Series: Heavenly Official’s Blessing (Tian Guan Ci Fu) Pairing: Hua Cheng/Xie Lian, Jun Wu & Xie Lian, Jun Wu & Mei Nian Qing

Summary:

Jun Wu has built a very splendid home for Xie Lian, with gifts and friends and wondrous sights just for him. He will be very happy there.

Xie Lian won't take this house arrest lying down.

(Inspired by the book/movie Coraline, by Neil Gaiman.)

CONTENT WARNINGS: Horror, Body Horror, Psychological Horror, Gore, Bittersweet Ending

Link: AO3

Read on Tumblr!

Eight hundred years ago, there was a kingdom known as Xian Le. 

--

--

“Why does she want me?” Coraline asked the cat. “Why does she want me to stay here with her?”

“She wants something to love, I think,” said the cat. “Something that isn’t her. She might want something to eat as well. It’s hard to tell with creatures like that.”

– Coraline, Neil Gaiman

--

 Eight hundred years ago, there was a kingdom known as Xian Le.

The kingdom had four treasures: beautiful women, music, riches, and its crown prince.

 “And this is…”

Forgetting himself in his excitement, Xie Lian took the sword down from where it was displayed on the wall to examine it more closely. He turned it this way and that, examining the pommel, spying down the length of the blade to see the fineness of its edge.

“…jingeom, Four Dragons!” Xie Lian exclaimed. “Unmistakably! A Four Dragons blade can only be crafted once every twelve years, you know, and only by the finest blacksmiths.”

“Just so,” Jun Wu confirmed. “Foreign pieces often find their way into my collection. I don’t discriminate when it comes to quality.”

Nor did Xie Lian, but it was nigh-on impossible to keep his attention on a single dazzling artifact when he was surrounded by hundreds more. Xie Lian had already handed off the blade to Feng Xin, and was back to eyeing up the rest of Jun Wu’s collection. Jun Wu laughed; a warm, delighted sound.

“Xian Le is so knowledgeable! But so hard to impress.”

He was clearly amused, but Xie Lian would hardly deny the sentiment. He was Xian Le’s crown prince, after all – he’d seen the best, thought he could do it better, and then proceeded to do so. It was simply the natural way of things.

Xie Lian had already stacked more discarded legendary swords into Feng Xin’s arms like so much firewood. (Feng Xin’s soul had long since left his body at the sight of Xie Lian’s shameless behavior in the Heavenly Emperor’s own household, and he simply stood there like a statue, numbly accepting whatever Xie Lian handed to him.) Xie Lian squinted at the blade he currently had unsheathed, frowning slightly.

“This is…a fortune-telling blade?” Xie Lian inquired aloud.

“Ah, yes, that old stick,” Jun Wu said dismissively. “I don’t put much stock in that sort of thing. Lovely craftsmanship, though.”

“Mm,” Xie Lian agreed, re-sheathing the sword and handing it off to Feng Xin. He, too, cared very little for fortune-telling; much to the chagrin of his teacher. But the fact that Jun Wu shared his opinion made his heart buoyant with pride. “Neither do I. I wish you’d been around to get me out of all those dull divination lectures, before I ascended…”

Even so, seeing that blade in front of him, he found himself trying to recall those lessons…though he could now confidently proclaim that fortune-telling was a frivolous pursuit, he was admittedly a little curious to what that reflection was trying to indicate. Butterflies, dancing on that gleaming surface…

Jun Wu made a sympathetic noise, and reached out to pat Xie Lian’s back. “Dreadfully dull indeed – and wholly unsuitable for Xian Le. What a waste, to have you cooped up indoors staring at star charts instead of cultivating your swordplay! It truly speaks to Xian Le’s innate talents that he was able to ascend so soon despite these obstacles.”

Xie Lian bubbled with happiness at Jun Wu’s words; at his agreement and praise. Even that touch to his back didn’t feel as overly-familiar as it should – he supposed if anyone was permitted to pat Xian Le’s crown prince like a child, it would only be the Heavenly Emperor himself.

“In any event, Xian Le doesn’t have to worry about any of that silliness anymore. And if that Head Priest of yours still tries to lecture you for falling behind in your lessons, just call on me.” Jun Wu leaned in, his expression comically grave. “I’ll give him a lecture he won’t see coming.”

Xie Lian laughed at the very thought of Jun Wu scolding Head Priest. Perhaps he’d have him write lines, just as Head Priest had assigned Xie Lian when he outsmarted those silly riddles of his!

He reached for another sword.

“At this rate you’ll have gone through my whole collection before the sun rises!” With a flick of Jun Wu’s sleeves, the swords in Feng Xin’s arms rose up and re-arranged themselves on the walls. “I’ll have to work hard at adding new pieces, so Xian Le always has something to see when he visits…”

At long last, Xie Lian had found a sword that piqued his interest. He went through a few practice poses with it as Jun Wu spoke; testing its balance, testing its reach. His skillful feet, his step as light and spritely as a deer’s, barely made a sound on the polished floors. His robes billowed and swirled with his graceful movements, blooming about him like the petals of a heavenly flower. The blade sang like a bell as Xie Lian sliced at the air.

Jun Wu circled him, evaluating his form. He reached out and gripped Xie Lian’s elbow, tilting it up just a bit to straighten up the point of the blade. The adjustment was slight, so slight that even a trained eye could hardly see it. But it resulted in a form so perfect, so divine, that it looked like a statue formed at the hands of a heavenly architect.

“I should fetch you a flowering tree branch,” Jun Wu said. “Then you’d be fit to for mortals to paint. Though I don’t think your shrines can hold any more icons of you…”

Xie Lian puffed out an annoyed breath. “They can just use my other statues and murals for reference. I have more than enough, and they can make do. Even when I was small I loathed sitting for portraiture.”

It was such a waste of time, standing still for hours while a royal painter squinted and sketched. A true artist would only have to see him once!

“They truly don’t understand you, Xian Le,” Jun Wu murmured. “Don’t worry. Now that you’re here, you don’t have to concern yourself with any of that, anymore. You’re beyond what they could ever comprehend.”

Jun Wu’s hand came up to pat his head, to stroke his hair.

“Shall we retire to my study? You must be in need of some refreshments.”

“No, thank you,” Xie Lian said, and it was the truth – he never was a big eater, and it was something of a relief that the worship he received now was nourishment enough. “I should go back to my temples and address prayers. The Mid-Autumn Festival is coming soon, and I wish to give a strong showing.”

Gods did have duties, of course, and Xie Lian did have so very many prayers to answer. All the same, there were few among gods, ghosts, and mortals who had such confidence that they could rebuff an invitation from the Heavenly Emperor himself.

But Xie Lian was the one and only crown prince of Xian Le.

Jun Wu laughed again. “Xian Le is truly hard to impress, indeed. I wish him luck. But please, don’t hesitate to come calling whenever you wish. I promise to show Xian Le many more splendid things.”

 --

 Eight hundred years ago, there was a kingdom known as Xian Le.

The kingdom had four curses: idleness, corruption, excess, and its foolish prince.

 “I must say that I didn’t expect Xian Le to drink down the wine during our game so readily. And that play – the human realm is so full of wild ideas!”

Xie Lian tittered a nervous laugh at the mention of the play. “Y-yes, um. That play was…truly something.”

After the Mid-Autumn Banquet concluded, he’d been unexpectedly invited to the Great Martial Palace for after-dinner tea. The sky was still ablaze with lanterns, and Xie Lian was still too dazzled and dazed by the sight of them, and the thoughts of the person who���d sent them heavensward, to give much thought to refusing the summons. And so here he was, having tea and sweets with Jun Wu in his personal study.

It brought back old memories – of himself as a foolish seventeen-year-old, rattling off the history of every weapon mounted on Jun Wu’s walls, as if the Emperor wasn’t aware of their properties and lineage! Such arrogance he’d shown, back then. Lecturing for hours, talking his ear off. But Jun Wu had stood and listened to him go on and on, a fond smile crinkling his eyes and mouth. Truly, the Emperor had always been so kind to him.

“Do you know that it’s a tradition for the runner-up of the Lantern Battle to host dinner for the winner?”

Xie Lian blinked and tilted his head curiously. “No? That seems unfair, though. Like salt in the wound.”

Jun Wu chuckled fondly, as if he’d expected such a response. “Yes, well. Being that I usually win, most of the other gods leap at the chance to host me at their palaces. It’ll be me doing the leaping this year…and my leaping muscles are so out of practice! Xian Le has given me a splendid chance to exercise them. It will be an event you won’t soon forget.”

Xie Lian was suddenly exceedingly thankful that Hua Cheng had sent up so many lanterns. Even if it was just on a whim, a second-place finish would have had him hosting the Emperor of Heaven at his Puji Shrine! He could not have borne up under such shame.

It was as though Jun Wu could read the thoughts flitting through his mind. “Shall I pay a visit sometime? To this shrine of yours that I’ve heard so much talk about.”

“Ah—”

How to respond? His little shrine was much too humble to receive the Emperor himself, no matter how well Xie Lian swept its dirt floors! He knew he shouldn’t have put off fixing the roof for this long. And he’d been meaning to mend the curtains he’d salvaged, but with his sewing skills, they would likely look better if they stayed torn…

“It—it may not be to your lordship’s liking. It’s quite cramped, you see; I’ve been hosting – many visitors lately—”

“Surely proof that Xian Le is a gracious host, and all the more reason for me to come calling.”

Xie Lian shifted uncomfortably. He had no face to lose, honestly. Less than a year ago, he had been sleeping on the streets; having even a leaking roof over his head was an improvement. But to allow Jun Wu to see the state in which he lived – his tiny, tattered little home, with bare cupboards and junk piled in every corner – filled him with an acute sense of shame. The Emperor had always been so kind to him, thought so highly of him. And his pathetic state was all that came of that trust. The shackles on his skin prickled uncomfortably, like marching, biting insects.

Jun Wu smiled magnanimously. “Well. I hope you’ll receive me, one day. Perhaps in the home I built for you here.”

To his further embarrassment, Xie Lian often forgot the Palace of Xian Le even existed. He could only nod, further shamed by his own careless, ungracious behavior.

“I suspect that it is not to your liking.” Jun Wu leaned his head on his hand, and regarded Xie Lian with an air of gentle concern. “You seem to prefer a shabby little hut in the human realm to the comforts I’ve provided. I personally designed it. I personally funded it. I sent word to you when it was finished; I would have liked to spend an evening in your company, to catch up on all these years. I waited for days for you to finish whatever business kept you in the human realm. Days into weeks. And now, here we are at the height of autumn, and you still haven’t spent a single night there. You must understand my confusion.”

Xie Lian’s cheeks flushed hot. “I’m…it’s—”

“The pantry is always full of the finest produce from Heaven’s trees and fields.”

“I—”

“I’ve filled your wardrobe with many fine ensembles. Windmaster, too, has sent over piles of clothing that he must think suits you. He seems so terribly fond of you.”

“That’s—”

“Is it perhaps that your neighbors have been discourteous and unwelcoming? Excepting Windmaster, of course. Understand that the stars in the night sky must not concern themselves with the jealous sputtering of an innkeeper’s candles.”

“It’s…it’s just—”

“If Xian Le would prefer, I could make whatever arrangements necessary to make him feel more at home. He need only ask.”

The generous grace being shown to him was so utterly undeserved that Xie Lian could never dream of accepting it. He was not the spoiled little prince that Jun Wu remembered – so full of promise and potential, so desperately foolish. He preferred to live as he was now – busking on street corners, gathering scraps, washing the same two pairs of robes in the nearby stream. Chopping wood for the fire, chatting and laughing as Hua Cheng helped cut and gather and carry. Cooking the vegetables he’d been offered as thanks for helping in the fields, and eating with Hua Cheng by his side as the fire crackled into embers.

(It went without saying that Hua Cheng would not be a welcome guest in the land of the gods. This, too, was something that could not be overlooked.)

A life holed up in the Heavens, in a sumptuous palace, far away from the troubles of the other two realms. Perhaps it suited the other gods, gods that were greater than him. But it did not suit Xie Lian. Not anymore.

He was at a loss on how to explain his feelings.

“I…I can’t stay tonight,” Xie Lian said. “I’ve been looking after two human children. And dealing with my cousin.”

Jun Wu gave a sympathetic wince at the mention of Qi Rong, and the sight of such a silly, human expression on the Emperor’s face made Xie Lian give a brief titter of nervous laughter. “Ah. Xian Le has always leapt headlong into trouble. He needn’t worry tonight about moving house, but one hopes that he’ll consider sometime in the future, once his various errands have concluded. I look forward to being your guest.”

With that, Jun Wu lifted his head from his hand and saluted Xie Lian, allowing Xie Lian to return the salute and beat a hasty retreat to his humble home.

It would not be the first time he’d disappointed someone who had faith in him, and it surely wouldn’t be the last.

 --

 Two thousand years ago, there was a kingdom known as □□□□□.

The kingdom had four treasures: beautiful women, music, riches, and its crown prince.

 “I waited for you, after the Mid-Autumn Banquet. I would have known the moment you set foot in this palace that you’d come. But you never did.”

“…”

“I built this palace especially for you, Xian Le. Do you think I do that for every god that comes through the heavenly gates?”

“I never asked you to,” Xie Lian spat.

“I wonder who taught you to be such a scornful child,” Jun Wu sighed. “All those years in the mortal realm have taken their toll on your manners. Or perhaps it was the company you’ve kept, recently. I think some time for reflection in your quarters is in order.”

Jun Wu stopped at the door to the Palace of Xian Le, and waited for Xie Lian to trudge up before he continued speaking.

“Not that I was asked to, but I’ve taken the liberty of making some adjustments to make you feel more at home. I want this to be a place you’re comfortable in. A place you can while away many happy years, a place where I can always come calling and see a smile on Xian Le’s sweet face.”

Jun Wu briefly stroked a hand over the fall of Xie Lian’s hair, down his back. The old, sick memory of White No-Face’s tender embrace flared in Xie Lian’s mind, and he whirled away; nearly falling down the stairs in the process.

“Careful,” Jun Wu chided. “Clumsy.”

Xie Lian choked as he was pulled out of his freefall by Jun Wu’s grip on the shackle about his neck. He clawed at his throat, gasping for air. Jun Wu opened the door of the palace, and dragged Xie Lian inside; dumping him unceremoniously on the floor at his feet.

“Welcome home,” Jun Wu said gently, warmly.

“Welcome home!”

“Welcome home!”

“Your highness!”

“Your highness!”

The palace of Xian Le was the palace of Xian Le.

“Lianlian,” his mother said, approaching him with the warmth and carefree joy he remembered from his earlier years. “I made us dinner – your favorite! You must be so hungry from training all day!”

The fine porcelain bowls lined up on the table were filled with discolored, rot-smelling sludge. This was, in itself, not cause for special concern, or something particular to this nightmare that Jun Wu had thrown him into. While it was not Xie Lian’s “favorite”, he could recognize it on sight (and scent). Taste, too, most likely. It had tasted the same going down as it had coming back up on that morning when he’d dined next to his parents, while they dangled from the ceiling by their necks.

His father – hale and healthy – chuckled. “Don’t worry, son,” he said in a stage whisper, winking as he did. Xie Lian could not remember the last time he saw the king act so jovial, so warm to him. “There’s plenty of fresh meat buns from the cooks in the kitchen.”

“Your highness!” Feng Xin and Mu Qing said in unison, then startled theatrically at that fact. They harrumphed dramatically, and crossed their arms, determinedly not looking at each other.

“I’ll get you a change of clothes—”

“He needs to have a bath first, idiot!”

“He can change his clothes and then have a bath! Then change his clothes again!”

The palace of Xian Le was the palace of Xian Le and the palace of Xian Le was filled with the people that Xie Lian remembered so well even after so many years. They should have been dead. They should have been dead or should have drifted so far away that Xie Lian could hardly recognize them anymore. But here they were, as they had been. Exactly as they had been, save for one fact: every familiar face was grotesquely twisted into a half-smile-half-frown. There was not the courtesy of masks, just flesh and sinew rearranged into an impossible expression of despairing bliss. Heart in paradise.

Xie Lian began to tremble.

Jun Wu leaned down to whisper into Xie Lian’s ear. “There’s a swingset in the back garden,” he said. “Your mother told me how much you loved to swing when you were a little one.”

“She didn’t tell you anything.” Xie Lian’s voice was tremulous with fear and fury. “She’s been dead for eight hundred years. Because of—”

Jun Wu cocked an eyebrow. “Because of me?”

“Because of me,” Xie Lian snapped. “Don’t interrupt.”

Jun Wu’s eyes went soft. He knelt and helped Xie Lian to his feet; his touch and voice filled with compassion. “It’s not your fault. Oh, it’s not your fault, Xian Le.”

He pulled Xie Lian into his warm, unrelenting embrace. His heart beat under Xie Lian’s cheek, steady and strong. Thump thump, thump thump.

“The frailty of others is not your responsibility,” Jun Wu said. “Xian Le should not blame himself for others’ shortcomings. For others’ failures. The burden is not his to bear up under. This is a lesson that I’ve tried so hard to impart to you, and save you further pain.”

Xie Lian wished he could flay off his own skin, and grow a suit of new pink flesh that wouldn’t bear the memory of this touch. He felt a nudge to the back of his knees, and a head pressing itself to the underside of his palm; like a dog begging to be petted. He looked down, slowly, dreading what awaited him.

The sight of Qi Rong gazing up at him adoringly struck Xie Lian with a nostalgic vertigo that threatened to make him vomit even more than the smell of his mother’s stew had managed. He wore the face of the innocent child he once was, before grief and loneliness and madness had warped his mind. The smile-frown on his face was present, but his mouth was sewn shut with dark thread. Qi Rong could only make small, animal noises from the back of his throat as he continued to bump against Xie Lian’s palm; finally taking his hand and pressing it firmly to his head.

“I thought it would be best for everyone if I took care of that vile mouth of his,” Jun Wu explained. “Less noise. Less spitting. Better diet regulation. He’s much more manageable now, don’t you agree?”

Qi Rong nodded in agreement, and continued to pet himself with Xie Lian’s hand. Xie Lian yanked his hand away, finally, and stumbled out of reach. Qi Rong made an awful squealing noise at the loss, like a starved pig denied a bucket of scraps. He toddled after him in hot pursuit. Xie Lian could hardly hold himself back from kicking him clear across the room.

“That’s quite enough,” Jun Wu scolded. He brought his boot down on Qi Rong’s back with a sickening-sounding crack. The pig-squealing doubled in volume. “Ugh. Well, if he was completely manageable, I suppose this home of yours wouldn’t quite feel as it should. Still, I’ll have him taken away and trained a bit more.”

Obeying this implied order, the shadows on the floors shivered, and dozens of rats scurried forth to collect Qi Rong and drag him away to parts unknown. Xie Lian immediately recognized them as the rats of the ruined city at Mount Tonglu and heard their whispers as they went. your highness your highness your highness your highness your highness as your highness commands

“It’s late,” Jun Wu stated. Feng Xin and Mu Qing both stepped forward in unison, and stood at Xie Lian’s sides, ready to escort him to his chambers. “But I hope you’ll find your new home comfortable. I’ve made sure to stock and staff it with everything I remember you adoring.”

But there was a notable face absent.

“Your memory must be going, then,” Xie Lian said. “Someone’s missing.”

Jun Wu’s eyes narrowed. “Do tell. Who could I have forgotten? I know Xian Le very well. Who could Xian Le possibly care for so much that I don’t know about?”

Jun Wu stepped forward. Xie Lian stepped back, but did not break eye contact. Feng Xin and Mu Qing obediently kept step with Xie Lian, strolling backward with his every move.

“Is it perhaps the former Windmaster? No, Xian Le did not even care enough to search for him. Perhaps if he did, then he would have retained the use of his limbs. The two little children he cared for in his earthly hovel? No, hardly a thought spared for them when it wasn’t convenient. Sealed that snake priestess into a pickle jar and set her on his shelf to forget about...even though Xian Le seems to like children so much, he does not seem to be especially good at caring for them.”

Xie Lian’s back hit the wall. Jun Wu stepped into his space, leaning in close, until they were nearly nose to nose.

“I wonder what happened to that filthy urchin you stopped my parade to save?” he quietly asked.

He reached up to tug aside the collar of Xie Lian’s robes, to expose the silver chain there, and –

“I meant Head Priest, you old bat,” Xie Lian snapped.

And he did, in fact, mean to refer to his old teacher. He tugged the collar of his robe back into place, and tried to will his heart from hammering its way out of his ribcage.

Jun Wu smiled, and gave Xie Lian back a modicum of personal space.

“Ah,” Jun Wu said. “Xian Le is correct, how silly of me. I’ve been having some…difficulties with your teacher. He doesn’t seem to want to join us in this happy home of ours quite yet. But he’ll be convinced soon, just be patient.”

Convinced? Xie Lian was certain that he was surrounded by illusions; mindless shells painted to look like the people he remembered. They were merely empty vessels for Jun Wu to puppet as he pleased. They did not need to be convinced of anything. They were not who they looked to be. They were not his long-dead parents, they were not two long-lost friends, they were not a child long-lost. Xie Lian was certain of this. He was certain.

Jun Wu gave the order for Feng Xin and Mu Qing to take him away to his chambers and get him ready for bed, and gave the order for his parents to remain at the dinner table to keep the food and company ready for Xian Le when he was ready for it. The king and queen simply bowed their heads at the order, and sat dutifully in their seats, idly stirring the foulness in their bowls.

“We’ll be waiting right here, Lianlian,” his mother said. “I’ll leave a midnight snack out for you.”

 --

 Eight hundredHUNDREDfourHUNDRED years ago, THERE WAS a kinngdom knnownn as □□□□□.

The kinngdom had four TREASURES: □□□□□, □□□□□, □□□□□, and its crownn prinnce crownn prinnce crownn prinnce CROWNN PRINNCE.

 Xie Lian walked on his own, flanked by Feng Xin and Mu Qing, and was led into a bathing chamber to be scrubbed down. The bath was pleasantly warm, scented with fragrant herbs, and big enough to swim in. Ruoye shifted on his person, clearly wanting to swim around and wash up, but unwilling to leave the safety of his master. Xie Lian patted him gently, bidding him to stay put. The reflection of heavenly light on the crystal-clear surface of the water hurt Xie Lian’s eyes; he would not be able to keep track of the white silk under these conditions. Thankfully, he was still so filthy from the volcanic ash at Tonglu that the bathwater turned black in short order.

He knew he’d had a long day, but…it made Xie Lian flush a bit. Hua Cheng was so generous to have allowed Xie Lian to embrace him when he looked like this! And not just embrace, but…Xie Lian flushed harder and brought a hand to his mouth, huffing into it to check how his breath smelled.

“If his highness would tip his head back,” Feng Xin said.

Xie Lian tilted his head and allowed his hair to be rinsed clean. He eyed Mu Qing from this position. Mu Qing was folding and re-folding every piece of fabric that he saw, making unintelligible noises of displeasure as he worked. Indeed, a quite perfect likeness of the Mu Qing he knew. What was quite unlike the Mu Qing he knew was this…complacency. It would take more than threats from a mad god-emperor to make Mu Qing placidly march in lockstep alongside Feng Xin. Likewise, to make Feng Xin sit and wash hair like a docile housewife while Mu Qing sighed and complained in his vicinity.

An idea came to Xie Lian’s mind.

“Feng Xin, Mu Qing,” Xie Lian said. “I have a joke for you both.”

“Yes, your highness,” they said in unison.

“A horse walks into a teahouse, and says to the owner, ‘I’ll have a pot of tea and a plate of candied almonds.’ The owner says back, ‘By the gods! A talking horse!’”

Xie Lian finished speaking, and waited for a reaction. Feng Xin and Mu Qing both laughed in delight, laughed with their distorted mouths.

“Your highness’ sense of humor cannot be beat,” Mu Qing said.

“Yes, his highness is as talented in words as he is in the blade,” said Feng Xin.

The last time Xie Lian had told them that joke, Feng Xin shattered a rib from laughing too hard, and Mu Qing was so incensed at the noise of his horrible bleating that he broke a chair over his head. It went without saying that Mu Qing did not find the joke funny at all.

Convinced. Jun Wu only phrased it like that to rattle him. These were simply soulless magical constructs, of that Xie Lian was sure – quite sure. But this did not answer the question of why Jun Wu had not simply made a construct of Head Priest to round out this vile little stage play. It was not a matter of power – the Emperor of Heaven himself had more than enough of that, enough to create walking, talking copies of two heavenly officials. Creating a copy of a cultivator – no matter how ageless and immortal – would have been child’s play in comparison. It didn’t make sense.

Xie Lian was old enough to know when to lay low, when to wait for an opportunity. He allowed the puppets of his friends to finish washing and dressing him, to turn down his bedsheets and stoke the brazier beneath the bed. He allowed them to close the curtains, put out the lamps, close his door. He was not locked in. This was, of course, his new home. He had no thoughts of escaping; if there was a way to escape this realm of Jun Wu’s own making, Xie Lian had yet to think of it. And so, he lay in bed, to think.

Tap, tap.

Tap.

Tap, tap.

Xie Lian wearily turned his head towards the tapping noise. A full-length mirror was set into a large wooden vanity, and in the mirror, he saw his room reflected. The high ceilings, the carved jade pillars, the swooping silk canopy of his bed. He saw himself, sitting bundled in the sheets. He saw a hunched figure, standing just behind the glass, peering around the side of the mirror as if they were a prowler peeping at an inn window. The figure was wearing a half-smiling-half-frowning white mask.

Xie Lian rolled his eyes and sighed. Honestly, hadn’t Jun Wu had enough of trying to scare him today? He was trying to sleep. He made a big show of yawning and rolling over, hoping he’d get the message.

Tap, tap.

Tap.

…But, just in case he didn’t…

“Fuck off, old man,” Xie Lian shouted over his shoulder. “Go get eaten by those rats of yours.”

The tapping stopped briefly as the figure behind the glass pondered these words.

BANG. BANG. BANG.

Xie Lian flew up, worried that the glass would shatter and he’d have to fight in his nightwear. Ruoye roiled around his limbs, distressed at the noise but ready to fight for his master’s sake. The figure stopped pounding at the glass with their fist, satisfied that they finally had Xie Lian’s attention.

With a bit of spiritual energy, they frosted the window glass in a thin sheen of ice, and began to write to him with their fingertip.

The characters were mirrored, of course; backwards and tricky to parse. But Xie Lian knew that elegant handwriting well.

“Head Priest,” Xie Lian said.

Mei Nian Qing quickly brought one finger to the mouth of the mask he was wearing, and Xie Lian immediately fell silent. This message was easy enough to translate: be silent and wary of eavesdroppers. Xie Lian nodded, and waited for him to finish writing.

Heavenly Capital locked down. No way in or out. You are well?

Xie Lian wrote back with his own finger.

Been through worse. Where are you? Why is Head Priest wearing that unsightly mask?

Mei Nian Qing was still for a long moment, then turned his head to the side to show Xie Lian the truth of it. Xie Lian choked back the panic that threatened to tear a scream from his lungs.

A line of black stitching attached the mask to his face. The stitching itself told the story far more succinctly than a finger on iced glass: at his chin, forced and sloppy, with torn skin and fingerprint bruising. Evening out as it proceeded, ending with a stitch so fine that a god of embroidery would praise it. The skin there was unbloodied and worked so finely that it was as though the needle used was spun from a fairy’s whisper. It was clear that Mei Nian Qing had stopped struggling, towards the end, and Jun Wu had rewarded him with tenderness. Or what passed for it.

Mei Nian Qing wrote a simple phrase in the ice:

I’m sorry.

He let the characters hang there, frozen in frost and glass, and stared down at his lap. Xie Lian was not about to let this conversation end like this. They were alone here, and they would band together, and flee together. He wrote phrase after phrase, insistently, even as Mei Nian Qing continued to sit there motionlessly.

Where are you?

Are you alone?

Is someone watching you?

He’s made copies of my mother and father.

Mei Nian Qing’s attention appeared to be drawn to the last phrase. He stared at it, the mask hiding whatever expression it had stirred. After a few moments, he began to tremble. He crumpled in on himself, clutching his head and tangling his hair in his hands. A sob tore from his throat, causing Xie Lian to startle as the sound shattered the silence.

“I knew it’d made him angry,” Mei Nian Qing sobbed. “I knew he’d thought me pathetic. But I was alone for so long, you have to understand. I needed – I needed them – I needed them to play cards with— I didn’t mean it as an offense. Your highness. Your highness, please, you have to understand, I’m so sorry…”

“Head Priest! Teacher!” Xie Lian whispered frantically. “It’s fine, I understand! None of this is your fault! Just tell me how to get to you, I’ll come find you and cut that ugly thing off your face!”

His pleas fell on deaf ears. Mei Nian Qing continued to sob, babbling to himself in increasing hysteria about solitude and cards and your highness, your highness, your highness. Xie Lian leapt to his feet, his martial god brain taking over. A person trapped behind glass: the simple solution was obvious, and that simple solution was to smash the mirror with his fists.

“Hold on! I’ll be right there!”

Not even needing a command, Ruoye wrapped around his hands and wrists to protect him from the soon-to-be-shattered glass. He flexed his fingers, readying himself to strike.

your highness

Xie Lian’s fist stopped mid-swing.

your highness your highness your highness

bad ungrateful awful I’m telling

Xie Lian recognized that raspy sound. He whirled just in time to see a rat scurry off; out the door and into the halls. Whatever that rat wanted to “tell” Jun Wu, it couldn’t be good. There was little time for Xie Lian to make assurances to Mei Nian Qing that he’d be right back, or to stay put or hide himself or just try to stay alive. The most he could do was close the door of the wooden vanity, hiding the mirror from view, and race after the rat down the hall.

The rat was smaller than the others he’d seen at Tonglu; suitable for reconnaissance, and fast enough that even Xie Lian’s fleet feet had trouble keeping pace. It also made a small enough target that Ruoye couldn’t strike true. He lashed out over and over, like a lunging snake, and each time was thwarted. All the while, the rat chittered in its awful voice:

your highness your highness yourhighnessyourhighnessYOURHIGHNESSSSSSSSSSS AWFUL AWFUL AWFUL THEY CALLED YOUR BEAUTIFUL MASKS UGLY—

The rat’s tattling cut off with a garbled shriek.

Xie Lian finally caught up, and found that the rat had met its end at the claws of a sleek black cat. The cat stood poised over its kill like a beckoning statue, washing its ears and purring so loudly that Xie Lian could hear it from ten paces away.

Briefly pausing its bath, the cat looked at Xie Lian. It winked its single eye at him slowly, continuing to purr. A red ribbon was tied around its neck.

“San Lang.” Though he was tearful with relief, the words felt punched out of Xie Lian’s heaving lungs. He collapsed to his knees, trying to catch his breath. “Th…thank you…”

The rat’s corpse dissipated with just a flick of Hua Cheng’s tail. Hua Cheng trotted over immediately, and before he even could think about hesitating, Xie Lian scooped him up and bundled him close to his chest.

“Gege,” Hua Cheng said, low and soft. The sound of it alone was enough to soothe Xie Lian’s frayed psyche. “You’re unharmed?”

Xie Lian nodded. Hua Cheng’s fur in this form was so silky soft, so pleasant to bury his face in. So much so that Xie Lian almost forgot to question the why of it.

“…you’re a cat,” Xie Lian finally noted aloud.

“Yes indeed,” Hua Cheng agreed.

Oh, Xie Lian could almost see that bratty little smirk on his face. Hua Cheng patted his paw against the pout of Xie Lian’s mouth, playfully.

“If gege wishes for me to explain myself: I came here in disguise and found myself…temporarily locked into this form, for the time being. Nonetheless, as a cat, I enjoy many benefits in a situation that calls for stealth. It becomes all the more simple for me to slip into places unnoticed, unseen, unheard. Such as into this palace, or into gege’s sleeves with his Ruoye, to fly out with claws bared at a moment’s notice.”

Ruoye swirled around Xie Lian’s arms, clearly miffed at Hua Cheng for inviting himself in to Xie Lian’s sleeves without consulting their current resident. It wouldn’t do for them to be cooped up in there together – how could Hua Cheng do any clawing, or Ruoye any whirling, when they would have to jostle around each other? There was only one solution.

Hua Cheng let out a startled mrrp! as Xie Lian stuffed him into the breast of his robes to be carried there. It wasn’t an ideal solution – he was in his nightclothes, and the lack of layers made hiding him difficult. Though Hua Cheng was small in this form, he was still large enough that there was a noticeable bulge. Xie Lian arranged him this way and that, until he was mostly hidden in the wrap of his sash around his waist. Hua Cheng’s soft fur tickled his bare skin.

“I’m sorry. Please bear with it for now,” Xie Lian said apologetically. “Once I’m dressed, we can find another way.”

Hua Cheng was silent for a long moment.

“…of course,” he finally managed.

Eavesdroppers everywhere, Xie Lian belatedly remembered. The bedroom was hardly better than an open hallway, but at least there was the illusion of privacy in the former. He and Hua Cheng could discuss what to do next, there…how to free Head Priest, how to escape from this place, then came the matter of how to escape from the Heavens themselves next, then…Jun Wu surely wouldn’t take any of that lying down, so, then…

Then…

The thought of taking the head of the man that had done so much to him, done so much to so many others, should have filled him with glee, or at least some sort of righteous thrill of justice. But there was nothing but a cold sense of duty, tempered by a pathetic little whimpering at the corner of his mind. The Emperor was always so kind to me. The Emperor always believed in me. The Emperor has always showed me heavenly grace and compassion even when I’ve done nothing for eight hundred years but disappoint him.

And? So what?

What’s your point?

Eight hundred years had given Xie Lian plenty of time to disappoint a lot of people and none of them had reacted half as badly as this.

“Gege is being very quiet,” Hua Cheng said. He squirmed a bit, and Xie Lian suppressed a giggle as his whiskers tickled his skin. “One hopes that he’ll tell this San Lang his thoughts.”

“It’s nothing,” Xie Lian said.

“Forgive my insolence, but I sense that’s not the truth.”

Eight hundred years of humiliation and regret and shame. Xie Lian thought he was used to it, by now. It was painful enough to disappoint someone he once considered an idol, a father figure, a beneficent authority. Xie Lian once thought that if he could live through that, he could survive anything the world threw at him.

But…then he’d met Hua Cheng. Hua Cheng, who was always so kind and generous, who believed in him no matter what and smiled at him like he hung the moon and stars.

I’ll just wind up disappointing him, too.

He’d survived so much. But he couldn’t bear the thought of the sadness and pity in Hua Cheng’s eyes when he eventually found out the whole of the crown prince he’d carved in a thousand perfect images.

Xie Lian set his hand on the bedroom door, and quietly replied:

“It’s not. I’m sorry.”

Maybe one day he’d be brave enough to tell Hua Cheng the full truth of himself. He doubted it.

He opened the door and saw Jun Wu sitting on the edge of his bed. Jun Wu smiled at him.

“Xian Le is up past his bedtime. He won’t be at his best if he doesn’t get a full night’s sleep.”

“If anyone needs beauty rest, it’s you,” Xie Lian snapped. “Aren’t you sleeping for four?”

Jun Wu’s expression darkened. “That was very rude.”

“Is that the group consensus?” Xie Lian was pushing his luck, but he could feel Hua Cheng purring against his skin, encouraging him. He gestured to the door. “Get out if you want me to sleep so bad. Go bother someone else.”

Jun Wu rose off the bed. Hands resting behind his back, he strode over to where Xie Lian stood at the door. He was so much taller than him. Even now, bolstered by fury and Hua Cheng’s closeness, Xie Lian could not help but feel small.

Jun Wu wore a tired, sad expression.

“Does Xian Le always treat the ones that love him with such cruelty?” he asked. “I suppose it shouldn’t surprise me. Whether his noble parents or the lowliest of ghosts, he awards devotion with the heel of his boot.”

Xie Lian went pale. Jun Wu stroked his hair, moving his hand down to cup Xie Lian’s cheek and tilt his face up to look at him.

“But I still have faith that he can be made to see sense, to be a grateful and dutiful child. Eight hundred years I spent refining you, so you could direct that boot of yours where it belongs – onto the backs of those who caused you so much misery, those common folk you wanted to save so desperately.”

“Go bother someone else,” Xie Lian hissed, again. “Just leave us be.”

Jun Wu’s eyes went dark, like those of a predator who’d scented blood. “‘Us’? Who could Xian Le be referring to?”

“Don’t play dumb,” Xie Lian stepped back, trying to reclaim some breathing room. “You know what you did.”

Jun Wu’s eyebrow raised. “In this instance, Xian Le really has to be more specific.”

Incensed, Xie Lian stormed over to the wooden vanity.

“Sewing one of those ugly masks of yours to Head Priest’s face and throwing him into this mirror, how’s that for specifics—”

Xie Lian nearly tore off the door of the vanity when he opened it to reveal…

…a completely normal mirror.

Xie Lian barely had a moment to process when he found himself roughly shoved to the side by Jun Wu. He couldn’t find his footing quickly enough, and fell to the floor hard. He only just managed to avoid landing all his weight on where Hua Cheng still wrapped around his middle; instead feeling the impact spark pain up his hip and spine. Jun Wu paid him no mind; instead, he clutched the sides of the mirror, white-knuckled. He wore the expression of a madman – wild-eyed and furious.

Without a single word, he pulled his fist back and brought it down upon the glass. A single flick of the pinkie from the Martial Emperor was enough to topple fortress walls. But the mirror did not crack.

Jun Wu’s jaw tightened enough that Xie Lian could hear his teeth grinding, like two swords against each other. The skin of his face was rippling and shivering like a disturbed pond, and – suddenly, horribly – the flesh of his cheek opened into a mouth; bursting forth with tongue and teeth.

“MURDERER! BLACK-HEARTED SINNER!”

Xie Lian had seen the Human Face Disease progress to the point where the lesions could shriek, to where they could babble nonsense. This, however, was the most erudite subject he’d ever encountered.

Jun Wu turned away from the mirror, and reached his fingers up to his cheek. He felt about blindly for the thrashing tongue, then grasped hold of it; only narrowly avoiding getting bitten in the process. He then pulled. The wet sound of tearing meat filled the room, punctuated by the sound of garbled shrieking from the bloody, toothy carbuncle on Jun Wu’s cheek. Jun Wu himself made no sound. He worked his jaw a few times, as if checking to make sure he hadn’t ripped out a tendon in the process, and tossed the tongue to the side. It splatted against the floor, still twitching.

Jun Wu composed himself. Spiritual energy crackled around him, healing his wound and re-applying the glamour that hid the curse and kept him pristine.

“Don’t let me see you out of bed again tonight,” Jun Wu said. “We’ll talk about your behavior in the morning.”

With that, he strode out of the room. The bedroom door did not slam, but clicked shut quietly. The rats scurried out of the shadows and greedily grabbed up the tongue, darting back out of sight.

“Gege. Look at me. Gege!”

Xie Lian blinked. How long had Hua Cheng been perched on his chest, staring at him and papping his nose with his paw?

“Sorry,” Xie Lian said. He picked himself up a bit, wincing as the motion sent more pain through his bruised hip. He settled Hua Cheng in his lap. “I…I shouldn’t have said anything about Head Priest…”

“Dianxia is not the guilty one in this situation,” Hua Cheng said in a deliberately measured tone. The fur along his back was raised, and his tail thrashed slowly but furiously. “This one should have not hid himself like a coward. If he lays hands on you again then his life is forfeit.”

“San Lang doesn’t need to fight this battle on my behalf,” Xie Lian said. “I wouldn’t have wanted you to pop out then, anyway. We still need to lay low and find a way to get Head Priest, and make a break for it…”

“Can dianxia please explain the situation with his teacher?” Hua Cheng asked. He tucked his tail under his paws, unable to keep it under control. “I’m afraid I was not present.”

Oh. Xie Lian felt a little foolish. He’d gotten so used to Hua Cheng being by his side all the time, that he…forgot that he sometimes wasn’t. So Xie Lian explained; or explained what he knew, which wasn’t terribly much. But Hua Cheng sat and listened, curled on Xie Lian’s lap, allowed him to smooth down his fur.

“…so, not a prison, but a hiding spot,” Hua Cheng observed. “There’s no way you could’ve known.”

Xie Lian smiled wryly. “That excuse only goes so far. I have no choice but to get Head Priest out of here, no matter what.”

“As his highness commands,” Hua Cheng replied. “I will follow you no matter what.”

Xie Lian did not doubt his sincerity. But he wondered if he’d still say that, knowing the whole of him.

He thought of his various failures as a son; how he drove his parents to humiliation and poverty, how he couldn’t spare them any kindness the night when they finally took their own lives. He thought of how Mu Qing and Feng Xin suffered and suffered until they could take no more and left and were immediately better for it. He thought of all he didn’t do for Qi Rong, and what he’d become.

He thought of the devotion of a masked ghost, and how he’d met it with nothing but coldness and disdain. He thought of how he’d forced him to sacrifice his very being to pay for his own sins. He thought of the white flowers he’d ground under his heel.

He was often staggered by his own capacity for cruelty. In this, Jun Wu spoke true.

 --

 Six hundred years ago, there was a kingdom known as Long An.

The kingdom had four treasures: brave heroes, epic tales, splendid banquets, and a mysterious ancient coral pearl.

 Dressed, ready, and with Hua Cheng re-stuffed down the breast of his robes, Xie Lian was ready to march out his bedroom door and start knocking on every mirror in the household to track down Head Priest. But the moment he flung open the door, he found himself facing not a long, dark hallway, but a quiet night garden.

“I should’ve known it wouldn’t be this easy,” Xie Lian sighed.

Hua Cheng arranged himself so he could peer out from the collar of Xie Lian’s robes, and eyed their surroundings critically.

“We’re not alone,” he said.

Indeed, they were not. The false Qi Rong – the one wearing the face of his child self, mouth stitched shut – stared at them from behind a tree with an expression that could only be deemed as hungry. Xie Lian stared back, debating on whether it would be best to simply run away and do his level best to find an exit that would lead them back into the palace. Before he could make a break for it, false-Qi Rong pointed to the swing hanging from the tree.

Xie Lian’s heart twisted, despite himself. This wasn’t real. This was nothing but a puppet.

“…I’m sorry, I can’t right now,” Xie Lian said. “I need to go back to the palace.”

False-Qi Rong pointed at the swing again, insistently. Xie Lian steeled himself and began to walk away, but was stopped in place by a sharp squealing cry. He whirled around and saw false-Qi Rong tearing at the stitching around his mouth; his efforts doing nothing to break the thread, but succeeding immensely in bloodying his skin.

“Stop! Stop it!” Xie Lian rushed over and pulled his hands away. “San Lang, can you cut that stitching with your claws?”

Hua Cheng stretched out a paw from over Xie Lian’s collar, and extended his nails. “As gege commands. Bring him close and keep him from squirming.”

Hua Cheng’s claws were sharp, and made short work of the thread. False-Qi Rong patted his face with his hands for a few moments, not daring to speak just yet. Then, that half-smile-half-frown twisted in glee.

“…he told me to stay out here in case cousin crown prince wanted to swing,” false-Qi Rong said. “I stayed awake all night in case cousin crown prince wanted to swing.”

“I can’t right now,” Xie Lian said. “I need to get back to the palace.”

False-Qi Rong positioned himself behind the swing, waiting not-patiently. He tugged insistently at the braided silk ropes.

“Cousin crown prince said that I could always push him,” false-Qi Rong said.

“Another time,” Xie Lian said, before he rose to his feet.

“I’ll scream if cousin crown prince doesn’t get on the swing!” False-Qi Rong had already spiraled into hysterics, which was very much in line with the real Qi Rong. “I’ll scream and then he’ll come out and see that you’re out of bed!”

There was no question about who “he” was. Perhaps earlier, Xie Lian would have steamed on ahead; heedless of the threat. But right now Jun Wu’s temper was…unpredictable. And with Hua Cheng here to be protected, he could not take any chances.

Xie Lian stiffly sat down on the swing, and allowed false-Qi Rong to push him. False-Qi Rong, just like his true self back then, was not very good at pushing. Instead of giving measured pushes with his arms, keeping him on a steady straight path upward, he simply rammed his entire body into Xie Lian’s back, sending Xie Lian swinging in random directions. Occasionally, he’d fling his arms around Xie Lian’s middle with a joyful cry of “cousin, cousin!” and be dragged along the ground behind him as the swing whirled from the momentum.

How could eight-hundred-year-old memories still be so painful?

It didn’t take long for the false-Qi Rong to tire himself out. He dangled limply from Xie Lian’s waist, his arms locked there tight. Xie Lian twisted in place, looking down to see those massive dark eyes and eerie, twisted smile staring straight back at him.

Out of all the puppets, Jun Wu seemed to have the least control over this one. Moreover, Jun Wu himself seemed…like he might be otherwise occupied right now.

“Thank you for pushing me,” Xie Lian said. “Have you seen Head Priest around?”

The false Qi Rong smiled even wider.

“Pat my head. Pat my head and I’ll tell cousin crown prince what happened to that moldy old man.”

Xie Lian lowered his hand and began to stroke the puppet’s hair. The false-Qi Rong made a blissful noise, and pressed his head up desperately into Xie Lian’s half-hearted pats.

“Gege,” Hua Cheng said quietly. “I understand your motives. But tread cautiously.”

“Of course,” Xie Lian said. “I’ll keep you safe.”

“Gege, you know full well that’s not what I meant.”

“It’s what I meant,” Xie Lian countered.

After a few more strokes, false-Qi Rong finally spoke, no louder than a whisper.

“He got mad at that sad look. Your old teacher wouldn’t stop with his sad faces. He got so, so mad. He sewed a mask on him so none of us would have to see.”

“…and then?”

“Then your stupid teacher ran away and hid. He got even madder. Then he went to go see cousin crown prince. Now he’s even more mad.”

The false Qi Rong shivered. Xie Lian felt a twinge in his heart. This was nothing but a puppet, enchanted into existence by a man hellbent on breaking his mind. All the same, Xie Lian couldn’t help but feel compassion for it. A puppet in the shape of a child he once knew, a child who Xie Lian once felt responsible for, once upon a time. Brutalized, terrorized, forced into the garden at night like an unloved dog.

Slowly, Xie Lian bent down, and wrapped his arms around the false Qi Rong. He felt him stop shivering. He felt him go completely still. He felt his small hands creep up to his sleeves and fist there.

“I love you, cousin crown prince,” the false Qi Rong whispered. “Can’t you stay here with us? I’ll stay out here and I’ll push you whenever you want.”

“I’m so sorry,” Xie Lian said. “I can’t.”

“Then I’ll leave with you. It’s so scary here.”

Xie Lian closed his eyes. A single thought from Jun Wu would cause the enchantment to dissipate and these puppets to dissolve into dust. He had no spiritual energy of his own, certainly not enough to support a being like this.

But he couldn’t live with himself for the next eight hundred years if he didn’t try.

Xie Lian moved from the swing to kneel on the ground, putting himself at eye level with the false Qi Rong. The false Qi Rong wiped his damp face and nose with his sleeve. Still had those awful habits of his.

“Do you know how to get out of here?” Xie Lian asked.

False-Qi Rong gave a shaky sigh and nodded, but was otherwise silent.

“You can’t tell me, can you,” Xie Lian observed. “He won’t let you.”

Another nod.

“Well,” Xie Lian said. “You can meet us there, then. Go wait by the way out. I need to find teacher first, then I’ll come find you. I’ll find my way there and we’ll all leave together.”

The false Qi Rong gave a loud snorting sniffle, then wiped at his face again. “I can leave with cousin crown prince?”

“We can try,” Xie Lian said. “You might not…be able to last long on the outside.”

“I know,” the false Qi Rong said. “Some of the other mes and the other others before us tried to run away. I’ve seen what happens. But they didn’t have cousin crown prince with them.”

Xie Lian was silent. Finally, the false Qi Rong disengaged his grip on his sleeves, and hesitantly moved a few steps back.

“Cousin crown prince is the best,” the false Qi Rong said. “I’m really happy that I could meet him.”

With that, the false Qi Rong bolted into the bushes like a fleeing animal. Xie Lian called for him, and heard no response.

The palace loomed over the garden’s tree-line.

“San Lang,” Xie Lian said. “Is it possible that…those puppets are truly acting on their own?”

Or is it just another one of his head-games, was the unspoken but obvious addition to that inquiry. Luckily, as always, Hua Cheng understood him.

“Puppet magic seems to be quite popular with those of his generation,” Hua Cheng noted. “But there’s such a thing as being too skilled. Perfectly imbuing them with all the memories and mannerisms of a person, then hooking them up to a spiritual energy source of that magnitude…it’s not surprising that they’ve started acting out.

“In addition, there’s the matter of the personality they’ve been assigned. A construct modeled after your cousin should be expected to be especially disruptive and unmanageable.” Hua Cheng gave a heavy sigh. “Ah, but gege must never let his real cousin know that I ever implied any compliment.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Xie Lian assured him. “He wouldn’t believe us even if we told him.”

 --

 Fifteen hundred years ago, a new and glorious Heavenly Kingdom was founded.

The kingdom had four curses: idleness, corruption, excess, and its two-faced emperor.

 Leaving the garden was so simple: simply opening the elegant doors back into the palace brought him back to where they left off. They found themselves in a hallway, meticulously decorated with all manner of things that Jun Wu was so certainly convinced would suit Xie Lian’s tastes. That being: swords. Swords, swords, swords. Vases of flowers with arrangements of colorful spring blooms; none of which included the tiny white flowers Xie Lian adored the most. Then more swords.

“It’s like he thinks I never matured,” Xie Lian griped. “Even when I was seventeen I had other interests!”

Hua Cheng was on guard again; tense and ready to pounce. He eyed every sword warily as they passed, as if they’d spring off the wall at any moment.

“…San Lang’s home is much more tastefully decorated,” Xie Lian said, hoping to soothe some of the tension.

Hua Cheng did give a brief huff of laughter at that; or a chuffling noise that passed for laughter.

“I can assure dianxia that ‘taste’ never factors into the equation when it comes to my approach to home décor.”

They did not have a chance to continue the discussion. They both fell silent as their ears caught the sound of Jun Wu having a furious one-sided argument, just a hallway away. Xie Lian looked around for a good hiding spot, and, in a split-second decision, he settled upon one of the vases with the garish blooming arrangements. He wriggled his way into the tall vase, and stoppered it back up with the flowers to complete the ruse.

“Gege does manage to find creative solutions.” Hua Cheng seemed to be holding himself back from laughing, despite their situation.

“If San Lang was bigger, I would have needed to be even more creative,” Xie Lian whispered back.

The vase allowed them to hide, and also allowed them to eavesdrop. Xie Lian strained his ears, trying to determine who Jun Wu was arguing with, to determine who had made him so furious.

“…you think you can just stay in there forever, don’t you. It’s all you know how to do. Run and hide. Thought you could just run and hide forever and that I’d forget. That I’d just forget! As if I didn’t recognize you the instant you came to tutor my Xian Le. Did you think I’d let you hurt him the way you all hurt me? And you did. You did! His world fell apart and you just judged and lectured and ran away again! Imagine how much kinder the world would have seemed, if his beloved teacher had stayed by his side in his time of need. I should have struck you down the moment you set foot on those temple steps. But my Xian Le needed a good education, needed the best. He needed to cultivate and ascend. There was no other way; by my side, I could protect him from the world. From you.”

It sounded like Jun Wu smashed one of the floral vases. His heavy breathing was so loud that it seemed to echo through the halls. After a long moment, he continued in a carefully measured tone.

“What bliss it must be, to be able to consider the time we spent side-by-side nothing but ancient history…to play the role of wandering cultivator, to make little dolls of our brotherhood and play with them all day. It must be so much more pleasant, without me to intrude on the four of you. You want me to just forget! It’s so easy for you to just forget! Do you think it’s that simple for me, or Xian Le!? He still freezes up like a frightened little bunny at the very thought of my creation, even after eight hundred years. And after two thousand years, the hatred you all have for me is still carved upon my face.”

It seemed like an eternity before they heard Jun Wu’s steps trudge down the hall; crunching on the shattered vase pieces before disappearing out of earshot. Xie Lian waited a few more minutes before moving to peek out of their hiding spot, and then, carefully climb out, supporting Hua Cheng with one hand the whole way.

“Are you alright?” Hua Cheng asked quietly.

“He’s getting senile in his old age if that’s how he remembers things,” Xie Lian said. “‘Freezes like a bunny’. I kicked him into a tree! And I’d like to understand how he thinks a bunny could control a statue the size of a mountain—”

“Gege! Stop joking around!”

Hua Cheng’s tone was so frustrated, so serious, that Xie Lian was taken off-guard. Hesitantly, he looked down to meet Hua Cheng’s gaze.

“If you’re hurt, if you’re scared, if you’re sad, if you’re angry, please, tell me properly,” he said. “You saw the cave, and you now understand my feelings towards you fully: I love you, no matter what. I am truly a simple man when it comes to this.”

Xie Lian was silent.

“Do you believe me?” Hua Cheng asked.

“…I believe San Lang loves what he knows of me,” Xie Lian finally said.

He loved the dazzling prince that saved him as he fell, he loved the steadfast warrior that descended in a futile attempt to save his country, even if it ended the way it did. He loved him so much that it built the foundation of his continued existence in the world. This, Xie Lian believed.

He did not know of the fallen wretch that became the White-Clothed Calamity. He did not know the cruelty he was capable of. If he ever found this out, Xie Lian knew the consequences: Hua Cheng’s love for him would evaporate, and with it, that foundation…and then…

“I love the whole of you,” Hua Cheng said. “There is nothing, nothing, that could change this.”

“Thank you,” said Xie Lian, for he couldn’t think of anything else to say. “I feel the same,” he said, because it was the truth.

They came across a spot in the hall strewn with broken porcelain and crushed flowers. A mirror hung on the wall. Clearly, they’d happened upon the spot from where Jun Wu had just departed. Hesitantly, Xie Lian peeped into the mirror.

“…Head Priest?” he whispered.

There came no answer, and there was no sign of him in the glass. There were, however, several fist marks in the glass, and spindling cracks like spiderwebs. An entirely ordinary mirror, holding no Head Priest, and wholly vulnerable to the misplaced fury of a ranting madman.

“Lianlian?”

Xie Lian felt his blood go cold at the sound of his mother’s voice calling for him.

“Lianlian? Are you out there? I heard you. Your mother’s here with your supper still.”

Slowly, Xie Lian walked toward the source of the voice. He peered into the room from where it had called him, from where she was still calling. Lianlian, Lianlian, it’s getting cold.

It was the room he’d seen when he first entered the palace; the grand receiving room, where his false parents had sat with their twisted smiles and empty black eyes. They still sat, exactly where he’d left them. The bowls of rotten-smelling sludge still sat, exactly where he’d left them. His false mother tittered in excitement at the sight of him.

“Darling! Darling, wake up. Lianlian’s here again.”

His false father was sleeping, face-down in his bowl. His snores blew bubbles in the sludge, sending more foul smells airborne as they popped. His false mother giggled; one voluminous sleeve over her mouth, as befitting a refined lady.

“Oh, your father’s always so hard to wake up. But he’ll be so excited to hear that you came to visit!”

Xie Lian took one step forward, then another, making his way to sit at the table with his parents. He stroked Hua Cheng’s furry head, silently pleading with him to trust him. Hua Cheng silently understood.

His false mother happily pushed over “his” bowl, and, with a proud flourish, plucked a flower from the table centerpiece and placed it atop the mountain of sludge.

“Presentation is important,” she said. “It’s called ‘The Reflective Pond That Allows One a Glimpse of the Heavens’.”

The flower was dissolved by the sludge in a matter of seconds, sending up green smoke and a burning smell. Xie Lian idly wondered what his false father’s face would look like right now, if he were to wake up.

“Thank you,” Xie Lian said. “How long has he kept you here?”

“It’s been eight hundred years since then, Lianlian. You should know that, silly thing.”

“That’s not what I asked.” Xie Lian kept his voice deliberately even, calm. “How long has he kept you here?”

His false mother’s smile faltered, if only for a second.

“I don’t know what you mean,” his false mother said. “Eat your supper, Lianlian. It’s getting cold.”

“You’ve been here longer than the others,” Xie Lian observed. “Long enough to know things. Long enough to know that playing along was your only option.”

His mother was always the picture of courtly grace. She knew how to entertain guests, how to comfort her husband, how to pamper her son. She knew how to read a situation, how to be spared as a target by the backstabbing Xian Le court. She knew how to play dumb.

It did not surprise Xie Lian in the least that she was the longest-lived of the puppets here.

“It’s getting cold, Lianlian,” she said.

“Do you know where Head Priest has hidden himself?” Xie Lian asked. “Once I find him, I’m going to get us all out of here.”

“It’s getting cold, Lianlian,” she said.

“I’ve already told…my cousin to meet us at the exit,” Xie Lian said, not quite ready to call the false Qi Rong by that name, not yet. “You’re welcome to join us. My father, Feng Xin, Mu Qing; they’re all welcome. I…I can’t guarantee that any of you will survive out there, not for long, but it’ll be better than living like this…”

“It’s getting cold, Lianlian!” his mother nearly shrieked, grabbing onto his hand and shoving his spoon into it. “Eat it before it’s cold!!”

Baffled by this outburst, Xie Lian stared at the spoon, then his bowl. The sludge looked…odd; odder than normal, anyway. It looked like someone had buried something underneath it.

Xie Lian dug away a little pit in the center of the bowl; moving the gelatinous goo around until he saw a reflective, shiny surface. A hand mirror. And clearly one that was enchanted heavily enough to keep it pristine against the onslaught of the stew that hid it.

Xie Lian carefully pulled the mirror out, and wiped it down with his napkin.

“—your highness!” wheezed Mei Nian Qing. He gasped for breath behind the glass. “Thank goodness. I don’t know how much longer I would have lasted…”

“Good to see you well, Head Priest sir,” Hua Cheng greeted him warmly. “I will be happy to remove that unsightly mask for you, if you’d take a moment to come out of that mirror.”

Although his expression was obscured by the mask still sewn to his face, Mei Nian Qing’s confusion was clear in the tilt of his head.

“Lianlian never said anything about wanting pets,” his false mother said at the sight of Hua Cheng poking his head out of Xie Lian’s robes. “Does Lianlian remember his fourth birthday? He’d been given a pure white pony of the finest pedigree, with a golden saddle and bridle, and little bells to jingle when it pranced. The moment we put Lianlian in the saddle, he cried and cried…”

These puppets having the memories of their true selves was essential to breaking free of Jun Wu’s control, but perhaps there were some drawbacks. Oh, how he hoped Hua Cheng would forget about that little anecdote. But he knew he wouldn’t. Xie Lian felt his ears burn.

“This…isn’t a pet,” Xie Lian finally said. “Head Priest, this is San Lang; he transformed to sneak inside, and then got stuck…”

Xie Lian caught Mei Nian Qing up on all that had happened in the past few hours, told him of Jun Wu’s increasingly erratic behavior, told him of his plans. When he finished, Mei Nian Qing remained silent.

“…they won’t survive outside of this home,” Mei Nian Qing said quietly. “Please trust in my experience on the subject of puppets. Even if your…gentleman ghost friend…were to support them with all of his considerable spiritual power, it would not be compatible. They would fall apart like clay.”

Xie Lian’s fingers stopped brushing through Hua Cheng’s fur.

“…I thought that might be the case,” Xie Lian replied. “But…”

“If we escape, he is certain to destroy every last one of them in his rage,” Mei Nian Qing said. “Whether they colluded with us or not. Die inside, die outside. Unless we consent to be jailed here for the rest of eternity, their fate will be the same.”

A heavy weight pulled on Xie Lian’s heart. More deaths. More deaths for people who committed the crime of having been associated with him, once upon a time.

“Your cat. Is he handsome, when he is in the form of a man?”

Xie Lian stared at his false mother, trying to parse her question. She gazed at him evenly. Even with those black empty eyes and twisted smile, she seemed tender and sincerely curious.

“…yes,” said Xie Lian, finally. “He is.”

“Gege flatters me,” Hua Cheng said. “I am nothing in comparison to his beauty, I assure you, my lady queen.”

“Does he take care of you?” his false mother asked, voice soft and urgent. “Does he speak to you gently, and support you no matter what?”

Xie Lian clutched Hua Cheng closer and closer with every phrase.

“Yes,” he said.

“And I will continue to do so,” Hua Cheng said. “For eight hundred years and many more.”

His false mother nodded.

“I…know I’m not your true mother,” she said. “But I have her memories, and I love you as she did. And I think…for her, it would be enough to see you one more time, and to know that you have someone who loves you so completely. Knowing that, I could…I could…ccccc…ccccccccc…”

His false mother’s jaw suddenly went slack. It went slack, then drooped, and drooped; until it dropped from her face and fell into her supper bowl. She stared at it for a moment as it dissolved there, then turned to look once more at Xie Lian with black, black eyes. They could still shed tears.

“…uvvvvv…annnnn….”

She began to melt like clay, like mud. Xie Lian wailed in dismay, lunging forward to try and hold her together with nothing but his embrace. It was over in seconds. His false mother was gone. His false father, melted into his soup. The false Qi Rong…the false Qi Rong…

“I told Xian Le that he wasn’t allowed to leave his room again. What a mess he’s made. I think I stepped in his cousin on the way here.”

Xie Lian’s fists clenched at the sound of Jun Wu’s voice. Jun Wu strolled into the room, tsking his tongue in disappointment.

“I made them so you’d have someone to love you, even when I was away,” he said. “And all you can think about is how to best kill them. I can’t imagine what they thought of you, hearing you talk like that about them.”

“Fuck you fucking gutter pig,” Xie Lian spat.

Jun Wu frowned. “I was going to make you some fresh ones, but if you’re going to curse at me, then maybe you need some time alone for a few months.”

Jun Wu moved to grab Xie Lian’s arm. Xie Lian wasn’t fast enough to take a swing at him before Hua Cheng lunged out of his hiding spot in the breast of his robes.

Jun Wu stumbled back with a shout. As if part of a coordinated sneak attack, Ruoye whipped out of Xie Lian’s sleeves without being directed, and wrapped himself around Jun Wu’s wrists to bind them behind his back; allowing Hua Cheng to flay apart Jun Wu’s face and eyes with abandon. Xie Lian leapt to his feet, joining the fray with a windup kick to the gut. Ostensibly the goal was to aim for his meridians to block his spiritual energy, but there were few things more satisfying than knocking the wind out of someone you really, truly disliked.

Even as a spiritual weapon, Ruoye had limits. Xie Lian felt him begin to tear. If he tore, there was no one to repair him, and – and Hua Cheng – he had to think fast.

“San Lang, get away! Ruoye, return!”

Coordinated enough to sneak attack, but not coordinated enough. Perhaps Ruoye was too swift in his retreat, perhaps Hua Cheng was too slow in his. Regardless of the cause, the result was Jun Wu seizing Hua Cheng by the scruff, and hurling him across the room hard enough that he crashed into the jaded ornamentation on the wall. Hua Cheng slumped to the ground, unmoving.

“San Lang!” Xie Lian cried.

“Inviting friends over without asking me first,” Jun Wu snarled. His face resembled bloodied, butchered meat; both his eyes were utterly mangled and sightless. “Horrible little Xian Le. What does he think of you now, seeing all you’ve done tonight?”

It was hard to tell, amidst the damage already done, but three more mouths had appeared on Jun Wu’s face. Mouths and eyes and tiny arms and legs; sprouting from his wounds like little flailing worms.

“MURDERER!”

“BLACK HEART!”

“SINNER! LIAR!”

The mouths screamed and cursed and screamed.

“WHAT WILL HE THINK OF YOU, XIAN LE? SEEING YOU AT YOUR WORST?” Jun Wu shouted, trying to make himself heard above the chorus. “Your dear teacher saw me at my worst and fled, fled for twelve hundred years, acted like we’d never known each other! Acted like we never meant a thing to each other! That’s our fate, Xian Le, that’s what happens to us! Abandoned and forgotten, until we force them to remember!”

Xie Lian cradled Hua Cheng’s tiny, bloodied body, fully ready to defend him with his very life.

“You’re a monster who ruins lives,” Xie Lian spat. “Of course no one would want to stay with you.”

Jun Wu laughed, and laughed, getting louder and louder by the second.

“I’m the monster? I’m the monster that ruins lives?” he asked. “Have you told your sweet Crimson Rain about your tenure as a Supreme-to-be?”

With a wave of his hand, Jun Wu conjured another puppet:

A puppet of a young man, clad in black, with a smiling white mask.

Xie Lian froze in place. He could barely hear anything over the hammering of his heart.

“Go ahead, Xian Le,” Jun Wu said. “Treat him as you did. Call him worthless, call him useless, crush his offerings under your heel. Offer him your hand to kiss and then use it to strike him across the cheek. Order him to sacrifice himself to atone for your own sins. This is the great god you worship, Crimson Rain.”

Here he was, standing before him. The reminder that he was a failure in all things: a failure as a god, a failure as a demon, a failure as a decent human being. Here he was, standing before him, the truth of what he really was; laid plain before Hua Cheng.

The jig was up. It was finally over, and it was just as painful as Xie Lian feared.

Perhaps Hua Cheng would hate him less if he was forthcoming with an explanation. It was worth a shot. Xie Lian squeezed his eyes shut, took a shaky breath, and began to explain.

“San Lang…back then, after Xian Le fell, I…I was so hateful and bent on revenge, and I made a pact with a ghost—”

“I was…taller…than that…”

Hua Cheng’s voice was more resonant, now; richer. Xie Lian looked down. Hua Cheng, human and handsome as could be, smiled up at him. Smiled like…

Smiled like…

With effort, Hua Cheng slid off Xie Lian’s lap and slowly made his way over to where the puppet of that nameless ghost stood; silent and motionless. Hua Cheng looked it over, critically, and plucked the mask from its face. There was nothing beneath it but blank blackness – of course Jun Wu did not know his face, for the ghost had never removed his mask, even for Xie Lian. Hua Cheng put the mask on his own face, and turned to show himself.

“I love you, no matter what,” Hua Cheng said. “Do you believe me?”

“San Lang,” Xie Lian said, wretchedly.

“I’m here,” he said.

“I’m so sorry for everything, back then. I didn’t deserve your love.”

“I love you, no matter what. God or demon, prince or pauper. Enshrined in the heavens, cast down into the dirt. ‘Deserving’ or not. The point of it is that it’s you.”

Hua Cheng went to his knees in front of Xie Lian, hand to his heart.

“I’ll say it as much as you need to hear it,” Hua Cheng said. “And then more, for my own pleasure. I love you, no matter what. Life into death and far beyond.”

Xie Lian flung his arms around Hua Cheng, dragging him in for a kiss.

Jun Wu was not the type to allow these interludes.

“Isn’t Xian Le lucky, to have such a faithful believer?”

Xie Lian drew back from Hua Cheng’s mouth, glared hatefully at the monster still lurking in their midst.

“Xian Le is so…dreadfully…horribly…lucky…” Jun Wu hissed, stumbling blindly forward. His face was still a jumbled mess of flesh; sporting eyes and mouths that were not his, arms that tore fresh wounds and tore at his eyes just as quickly as Jun Wu tried to heal himself. “Do you think…if I had a believer half as faithful, for all those lonely years…that things would have turned out like this?”

Xie Lian couldn’t answer. Jun Wu laughed quietly at the silence.

“Ah, but you wouldn’t be able to relate. I suppose we aren’t quite as similar as I once thought.”

Jun Wu stumbled into the dining table, adding bruised shins to his list of injuries. He toppled to the ground, and lay there, still; allowing the wretched carbuncles to tear at his face.

There was a great and terrible silence.

“I’m so tired, Xian Le…it’s been a very long night. Your host needs to rest a while. Can I trouble you to adjourn to your Puji Shrine?”

It almost seemed too good to be true. Xie Lian cautiously rose to his feet, helping Hua Cheng up in the process. Jun Wu twitched his fingers against the floor, and a door appeared; inlaid into a previously-blank stretch of wall. The door opened to show the streets of the heavenly capital; being cleared of Jun Wu’s supporters by an army of sentient farm produce in war armor. They saw the Rainmaster pass, atop her ox, with Ling Wen hogtied behind her.

Xie Lian turned to look briefly back at Jun Wu. Once his idol, once a mentor, once someone who cared.

“I won’t be coming back,” Xie Lian said.

“I wouldn’t expect you to,” Jun Wu said. “I don’t think I was a very gracious host today. Farewell, Xian Le.”

Before he turned to leave, Xie Lian gestured at the silent figure standing over Jun Wu’s prone body.

Head Priest? he mouthed silently at him. Come on. I don’t think he knows you’re here.

Mei Nian Qing smiled faintly. The mask was off his face, now; set carefully on the dining table. The remnants of the stitching were still visible on his skin.

He saluted Xie Lian.

Farewell, he mouthed back.  

“Your highness,” murmured Hua Cheng.

Xie Lian nodded, and returned his teacher’s salute. With that, he walked out the door with Hua Cheng in tow. The moment they set foot outside, the palace door clicked shut with an air of finality.

When they looked back, it was gone – gone, as if it had never existed at all.

 --

 Two thousand years ago, there was a kingdom known as Wuyong.

The kingdom had four treasures: beautiful women, music, riches, and its crown prince.

 “Your highness. I hope this teaches you to use puppet magic more cautiously. It’s very exhausting to one’s spiritual energy reserves, even for one like you.”

Mei Nian Qing touched his arm, just lightly enough to let him know where he was.

“…Nian Qing,” Jun Wu said. “I can’t see, so you’ll need to tell me. Crimson Rain was that ghost?”

“It seems so.”

Jun Wu snorted a brief laugh. “He was that street urchin, he was that soldier, he was that ghost fire, he was that ghost general…honestly, you’d need to be a fortune teller to predict such a thing.”

“Mmm.”

“And I haven’t had one of those by my side for years.”

“If you’d ever listened to my lectures, you would’ve been able to do it yourself.”

“Oh, for the clarity of hindsight.”

Heedless of the blood, the flailing limbs and spitting mouths, Mei Nian Qing reached to touch Jun Wu’s chin.

“Your highness,” Mei Nian Qing quietly said. “I think it’s time for us to rest. Both of us.”

Jun Wu covered Mei Nian Qing’s hand with his own, and tilted his head towards the warmth he felt, radiating from Mei Nian Qing’s thigh. He heaved a heavy sigh, and was then silent.

 --

 Four hundred years ago, there emerged a dazzling city in the realm of the ghosts.

The city had four treasures: freedom, riches, gourmet soup, and its beloved king.

 “San Lang,” Xie Lian said flatly.

“Her name is Porkbun,” Hua Cheng said, referring to the white pony that he had allowed onto their bed. “Does gege like his anniversary present?”

For the first time in their new life together, Xie Lian considered divorce.

[immclating]

Jun Wu / BWX’s Complicated relationship with Xie Lian Also known as : “why he wasn’t trying to seduce XL you damn fujoshis and while you have the right to ship why you want I feel it does a terrible disservice to Jun Wu as a character”

Obviously spoilers for the novel up to chapter 237 or so lol

The Crown Prince of Wu Yong, Jun Wu

Of course we have to start at the root of the person : who he was in life, who he was a god, and how he fell from grace.

Jun Wu was a kind, optimistic and self-sacrificing but naive sort of person, the same as the Xie Lian we come to know and love. Like Xie Lian he was terribly naive to the selfishness in other people’s hearts, likely because he was born from a place of privilege and had a life of things always going his way at first.

It’s not wrong to trust other people will always act with kindness in their hearts but it is naive. The other gods were already jaded and knew of how fickle humans are. They didn’t see a point in helping to save Wu Yong when it wouldn’t be appreciated and they also selfishly did not want Jun Wu to remain powerful.

And so he was betrayed. By the gods he trusted and by his followers. Because neither of those groups helped him in his most difficult trial the tragedy of the heaven-crossing bridge breaking occurred and the event where I personally believe he snapped took place.

Those people falling into the lava, trampling each other and pushing each other resulted in not only no one getting to safety, but also left a traumatic scar on Jun Wu’s heart and mind

Even worse was what came after:

They set fires to burn down his highness’ temples, toppled his divine statues, used blades to pierce his heart until it was mush, cursing that he was a useless creature, a bullshit god. He was a god, and gods should’ve been mighty and strong; gods couldn’t fail

He did his best, sacrificed and suffered for them and they burned his temples. They destroyed his statues.

They turned their blades on him when they knew he wouldn’t fight back. 

Suffering that pain over and over from the people he loved would result in the destruction his self worth and creation of his self-hatred. Later he would push this same scenario on to Xie Lian - immense suffering at the hands of his followers, knowing he wouldn’t fight back. 

Human Sacrifice and the Human Face Disease

This is where Jun Wu stopped asking for permission.

A god normally works on what their followers want and heeds their prayers, but he wasn’t a god. He was banished, and a useless failure of a god. Still he couldn’t turn his back on the people of his kingdom he desperately looked for any way to save the remaining people. He found one, and even then no one accepted it. It was the only thing he could do, and the other gods were stabbing him in the back by stealing his followers.

At first it seems like sacrificing a few to save the greater number of people isn’t a bad thing, it can be rationalized away. Kill a few wicked people to save the good.

He wanted to drag Xie Lian down this line of thinking later as well, but couldn’t steer him off course.

In the end he was abandoned by his friends. In the future he lures Xie Lian’s friends away from him however possible.

Although he sacrificed three of those close friends into the Kiln, Xie Lian could never bring himself to do the same thing. He couldn’t hurt or sacrifice the people who led to his ruin, couldn’t unleash the human face disease. In the end he was prevented from dirtying his own hands by Hua Cheng, even if he didn’t know it.

Crown Prince of Xian Le

Knowing Jun Wu’s suffering, we can then come to understand his relationship with Xie Lian.

He wanted someone to feel the pain he felt.

He wanted someone to understand everything he’d gone through not through explanation but through experiencing it.

He chose Xie Lian because Xie Lian reminded him of himself. An optimistic, naive and self-sacrificing person who believed in people and would challenge the heavens.

It is not because he loves Xie Lian or because he is seeking love - he is seeking justification, a protege, a reason to hate himself a little less because if Xie Lian could fall apart in the same way, go from the same beginning to the same end, then it wasn’t his fault. It wasn’t just him.

But it was.

In the end Jun Wu chased away the last person who supported him but Xie Lian had both the aid of a stranger and of a devout follower who would never leave his side. Even if there was just one person there was always someone who would watch over him.

In seeing how far Jun Wu had fallen, the Head Priest tried to instill Xie Lian with the reality of the world. That sometimes you could not save everyone and that to try would end with everyone dead instead of only some. That you shouldn’t be arrogant and think you can do everything, that you should show reverence to the heavens so as to not catch Jun Wu’s attention and bring misfortune upon yourself.

Jun Wu doesn’t want Xie Lian to love him. He wants Xie Lian to understand him. To become him. To shape him into a friend , a follower and a subordinate who understands pain in the same way he does so he doesn’t have to suffer alone.

Yet unexpectedly, what Hua Cheng said next was even more audacious and brazen. Wielding the sabre singlehandedly, its sharp luster brilliant, he pointed it at White No-Face, smiling, “After all, in the end you’re nothing more than an addled old man with a heart filled with jealousy.”

The ‘jealousy’ Hua Cheng speaks of here is the jealousy he feels towards Xie Lian for succeeding in life. For not giving up. For being better than him despite undergoing the same trials.

For continuing to love others, even in the worst.

Jun Wu doesn’t want Xie Lian to love him, he can no longer love others and doesn’t believe he can be loved in turn because he knows he can never be accepted for who he is.

But Xie Lian never stopped loving and being loved. Sometimes he faltered but he’d get back up, and in the end love saved him from repeating the mistakes Jun Wu made.

And that is what Jun Wu is jealous of. Not romance, not that Hua Cheng and Xie Lian are together... but that they’re both capable of giving and receiving love in this unfair and unjust world yet he can not.

[satire-please]

Play is the Work of the Childhood

Summary: I once saw a fanart of Hua Cheng snuggling a kid Xie Lian. Therefore this fic was spawn.

Perhaps Xie Lian should have seen this coming.

After all, in his 800-year experience, what goes around, comes around. What misfortune you see and witness will eventually happen to you.

Life enjoys being fair in that aspect.

Still, he didn't expect to be in this position as a wave of green smoke bellows from the mouth of the monster he and Hua Cheng just fought, just slain, it rushing at him and encasing him in a smoggy fist.

For the vile creature's last attack, it shakes Xie Lian like a child throwing a tantrum before throwing him across the cave.

He smacks into the stone wall, the pain makes him gasp...and the smoke rushes into his mouth.

It burns.

His lungs, his head, his bones twisting, his skin shrinking.

"Dianxia!" Xie Lian hurts, his brain rattling in his skull but he can still hear the desperate panic in Hua Cheng's voice, the ring of steel clashing in the background. "Are you alright? Answer me!"

Xie Lian coughs a few times. His ears ringing, he collapses down the rock face disoriented and forces his eyes to open. Hua Cheng's form is blurry but he can tell the man is sprinting towards him. "I'm fine–"

"Your voice! What's happened to you?" What was wrong with his voice? Well, it does sound different. The tone is off. Higher, younger.

Oh no.

It couldn't be.

Xie Lian puts a hand to his throat and rubs it. He tries to prioritize. "It was just the monster's deathblow, a curse I think–"

Hua Cheng swears loudly.

"–But I'll recover, will you destroy the body? Its remains could still harm any that come across it. It would be unfortunate if the villagers still had trouble after they worked so hard to get us for help."

"Yes. It won't ever bother them or Dianxia ever again," Hua Cheng declares vindictively. "Where are you? I can't see you, the smoke refuses to clear."

"Here. Over here." Xie Lian calls. He tries to get up, but his legs catch in sometimes, he looks down to see what's the matter and finds entire lower body trapped in his robes. They tangle over his limbs oversized...why are they so big?

He knows why. Yet please allow him to deny it a little longer. The clues of his voice, his clothes and the small hand he brings to his face are obvious and sooner or later he must accept reality.

He's been changed.

The curse turned him younger...much, much younger.

"There you are! Let me take a look at you, we'll figure out the contents of the curse and break it to–" A red tunic fills the corner his vision and Xie turns toward it.

But his friend, no his companion, freezes in place.

The man is not even breathing. True neither of them need to breathe but Hua Cheng has always been very courteous to do so in the past, so it’s alarming for Xie Lian to see him stop. The demon king is a statue harder than any stone.

“San Lang?” Xie Lian attempts to free an arm from his tangled nest of fabric, but the large sleeve flops over his wrist. Hua Cheng is so tall. Then again everything is so much bigger from this point of view. “What's wrong? Did the creature hurt you too?”

Hua Cheng moves fast.

One moment he’s a few feet away, the next he’s crouched in front of Xie Lian, hands cupping his cheeks to verify that this image is no illusion. Xie Lian notes the coolness of that skin and how those fingers reach the back of his skull easily.

He blushes and glances to the side. Hua Cheng’s hands are one of his favorite things about his man.

“I am blessed.” Is the first thing the demon king says in a minute. His one eye drinking in every change to Xie Lian’s form, his head cocked to the side. “Huh. I never knew I wanted this.”

“Wanted what?” Xie tilts his face or tries to. In Hua Cheng’s tender hold the action has him leaning into his palm.

Hua Cheng makes a trapped sound at the back of his throat. "You're so little."

Xie Lian should take offense, but honestly, he is...little. He had always been a terribly small child once upon a time, or he supposes in the current present. He attempts to calculate his age based on appearances. He'd barely come up to Hua Cheng's hip, his arms are chubby, oh dear, he must be around five or six and his–

"Your hair is so short. Is this how you felt when I was transformed against my will?" Hua Cheng muses, fingers twisting in the dark locks that fall right below his chin. "I have every inclination to lock you up and do all that I must to protect you. You're beyond precious."

“Ah. Now I understand why you were so embarrassed. This is humiliating." Xie Lian murmurs in reply. Xie Lian view’s blocked by a curtain of black hair and there’s a cold press of lips on his forehead. “San Lang!”

“Sorry.” But then he feels the same sensation on his temple. “Excuse me.”

Xie Lian’s cheeks are not left alone. A pepper of kisses rain down on his nose and his eyelids and Xie Lian is going to die if his face gets any redder.

“S-Stop!”

“Must I? Very well.” Hua Cheng finally leans back on his heels, a wry smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. However, he keeps Xie Lian trapped in his embrace, especially as he stands up. Xie Lian’s tiny hands scramble for broad shoulders as he’s basically manipulated to sit on one arm, the other moving around his back protectively. “I apologize, I truly can't help myself, Gege. You are honestly the most adorable thing I’ve ever seen.”

"You were just as cute. No, cuter!" Xie Lian pouts.

"I doubt it."

"You were!" He insists. Xie Lian watches Hua Cheng reach into his red coat for the dice. He tosses them up absentmindedly before the portal opens to the Paradise Manor.

“Nonsense, most considered me to be a vile and ugly child. They called me a feral cat.”

“I didn’t’!”

Hua Cheng smiled. “This is true. Only you.” And he kisses Xie Lian on the cheek again to end the argument.

The hallways echo with the sound of Hua Cheng's heavy boots before they enter the bedchambers, the closet.

It's larger than four Puji Shrines put together and a whimper leaves Xie Lian before he can stop it.

“Now let’s see what we can do about your clothes.” Good cheer has never been so menacing.

During the length of an incense stick or two Xie Lian is tortured with good taste. The large robes replaced with a barrage of outfits Hua Cheng fishes out of the abyss of the wardrobe.

It takes a while before Hua Cheng plants the new child in front of a mirror to work on the final details. The demon king is pleased to find that even a scowl on the younger face is adorable

“Is this really necessary?”

“Now, Dianxia it’s only fair and just. I recall when I was forced into child form, I couldn’t leave your arms for at least a day. You kept carrying me around and playing with my hair.”

It was soft. Who could blame the martial god?

"You were a treasure,” Xie Lian mutters.

“Yes, and now you’re mine. So enough objections and stay still enough to let me put this on.”

Well, Xie Lian can’t stop Hua Cheng from doing anything, not really, therefore he sighs and keeps his arms up as Hua Cheng fixes his sleeves. “I meant the clothes. This is a lot of work for a temporary situation. Where did you even get these?"

"Secret."

Xie Lian wrinkles his nose. The reflection shows the spitting image of his five-year-old self. In fact, he believes these are the exact same hair ornaments his own mother placed into his hair so long ago. A bright golden dragon with ruby eyes, glaring at all, perches on his head to keep his hair half up and out of his face.

All so Hua Cheng can cup, squeeze and poke his cheeks better.

Which he demonstrates.

Quite often.

It’s as if there’s a time limit to how long those fingers can stay away. Thirty seconds or less.

The mirror reveals a victim draped in layers of the finest silk, pictures of flowers and fighting scenes race across the fabric in dark heavy thread. His feet have matching slippers with twinkling small bells to give away his location immediately. He hates them. He shifts minutely and they ring. They sing. It’s been a long time since he’s been decked in such ridiculous finery.

Hua Cheng loves it.

“So this is how you were as a child.” Hua Cheng coos. Dressing him has taken over an hour, yet much to Xie Lian’s dismay instead of complaining, he seemed to relish picking out every single detail from what sash goes best, the golden one of course, to the bracelets and rings that cover Xie Lian’s fingers. He hums happily, “How did they ever let you out of the palace?”

“They didn’t.” Xie Lian was only allowed to start making public appearances at thirteen. And then only by his father’s side or securely placed in his mother’s lap. Just like how he's in Hua Cheng's now with a tug on the back of his robe so he falls right perfectly into the bowl those crossed legs make.

“I’ve been incredibly fortunate to see so many sides of you.” Xie Lian closes his eyes, Hua Cheng reflection is beaming. It’s unbearable. “My luck just keeps getting better and better if I get a chance to see you like this too.”

“San Lang, please! Do you ever tire of making me look like a tomato?” Honestly. Consider Xie Lian’s poor blood vessels.

“No.” Hua Cheng snuggles up to him, smugly rubbing his face into his soft fluffy hair. “Never. Tell me how you were like as a child?”

Xie Lian’s brows knit together in thought and then he answers honestly, “I was a brat.”

Helpless chuckles are muffled into his hair. “Oh really?” Xie Lian picks at the leather boots under him in retaliation, yet the arms around him just tighten.

“I was! I had rooms of toys–”

“And of swords?”

“Yes, and of swords too, they were separate chambers. I made castles out of gold leaf cards and demanded to continue sleeping with my mother far after it was considered appropriate.”

“Now that's a request I would never reject.”

Xie Lian smacks Hua Cheng’s arm with his tiny palm. It just makes the chest behind him shake more with glee.

“What else did you like to do?” Hua Cheng nuzzles the tiny god, the hair jewelry poking dangerously but he doesn't care. He adores how Xie Lian fits completely in his arms with this new size.

It's a good size. He loves this size.

Xie Lian chews on his lip. It was a long time ago. That part of his life barely a blur, a wisp of light if he concentrates too hard it'll flicker away. “I remember I used to like playing on the...swings.”

Hua Cheng’s whole posture straightens. “I need to find a swing set immediately.”

“That’s not important.”

“I assure you it’s suddenly very important. To me. I need to push you on the swings.” To Xie Lian's absolute dismay, the man gets up and his own feet dangle as Hua Cheng settles him over his shoulders. Like a father with a child. The dice reappear and rattle as they land in Hua Cheng's palm.

"Shouldn't we care about finding out how to break the curse first? That should be our first priority!" He's careful to rest his hands on the crown of Hua Cheng's head, making sure not to jostle the eyepatch.

"Later."

Xie Lian sighs and plops his chin on top of his hands exasperated. The moment Hua Cheng has left the Manor when they hit the street, the eyes of every nearby ghost bulge and pop.  

No one can resist not saying anything.

"MY LORD WHEN DID YOU GET A CHILD?" The phrase has more heads whipping in their direction.

Over at a vendor, a ghoul squints and then screams, "WAIT, IS THAT GRAND UNCLE?"

Xie Lian doesn’t have any time to swear. Not when a twitter of painted ladies screech and bombard the pair, "LET US TOUCH HIM. HE'S SO PRETTY. HOW DID HE GET SO SMALL?"

"A curse," Hua Cheng says. "And no. You do not get to touch him."

Surprisingly, or unsurprisingly more merge with their group, it becoming in a strange parade as the curious trail behind them. There are hunched goblins with moldy green skin that run a few paces before giggling at the sight. Ghost flames that hover playfully darting here and there. From the willow female sirens to the largest ogre they fall in line with brightest horrible grins. A few offer Xie Lian odd sweets made from rather questionable ingredients.

"TRY THIS LITTLE GRAND UNCLE, MY SUGAR SPIDER WEBS ARE THE BEST!"

"NO HE'S TOO SCRAWNY, HE NEEDS MORE MEAT ON THOSE BONES. HERE. HAVE MY ARM! I DIPPED IT IN CARMEL FOR YOU."

Others wave an assortment of meat buns as close as they dare since no one has forgotten that one time in the gambler's den.

“COME ON, EAT SOMETHING PLEASE! OH, YOUR FACE IS SO CUTE. LOOK UP FOR US SOME MORE." Xie Lian firmly buries his face into Hua Cheng's hair and shakes it back and forth.

"Make them stop." He begs. “Please.”

Hua Cheng hums. "Now, now don’t ruin their fun Gege. We've become a proper Ghost Parade by now. Why I don't think I could stop them even if I tried. You know how they get when you 'visit,’ you're just that popular."

Xie Lian groans.

"WHERE ARE WE GOING, MY LORD?"

Hua Cheng's eye twinkles. "Your dear Grand Uncle has told me he used to like playing on the swings, so we are on a quest to find them. Any idea where we may find some nearby?"

The colorful crowd goes wild. "SWINGS? DOES ANYBODY KNOW ABOUT SWINGS?”

“NAH!”

“NO.”

“I’VE GOT AN IDEA. WE CAN MAKE SOME. RIGHT NOW. DON'T MOVE."

In seconds what used to be a simple plaza becomes the weirdest playground Xie Lian has ever seen. The 'swings' are made from chains the large monster butchers carry around and they connect to three or four large thighbones tied together with pretty silk ribbons.

Xie Lian hopes those bones are not human.

Let him hope.

Hopes are dashed when they tell him they were very enthusiastically donated.

Hua Cheng slowly settles him on swings and makes sure his fingers are wrapped around the chains securely. He fusses before pulling the swing back with a few steps. The crowd cheers.

Xie Lian wants to die.

He feels another kiss to his temple and huffs with a twist to his lips. He guesses he should let Hua Cheng have his own fun and amusement at his expense. He did when the demon was a child. And perhaps he shouldn’t ruin the entertainment the ghost inhabitants somehow crave. As lame as it is. Who wants to watch a child being pushed to extreme heights on a gory swingset?

But he did...really like the swings.

“Are you ready to fly, Little Prince?”

"Are you going to let me touch the ground anytime soon?"

"Nope."

And Xie Lian should have seen that coming too. Oh well. They’ll find the cure to this aliment...eventually.

“Then let’s see how high you can make me go. Can you make me ascend a fourth time, San Lang?” He dares.

Hua Cheng’s fingers tighten on the chains above his, a wicked smile in voice. “There’s only one way to find out, Dianxia.”

Only the ghost city witnesses the figure in white and silk fly so high but their master never lets the small boy fall.

Not once.

Not ever.