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Hua Cheng's lips still lingered on Xie Lian's. Autumn, blood, warmth, home.
Xie Lian sobbed and wailed his grievances into the air, he blindly tried to catch the butterflies as they flew. He couldn't catch them, they all flew out of his range. His arms no longer held his San Lang's body, he clutched onto only his own bloody white sleeves. His vision swam, his chest ached at the lack of flamboyant red and white crystalline butterflies. Ruoye curled up his forearm, a pitiful attempt to comfort him.
Xie Lian caved in on his knees, his lover's presence had long since faded with the rising sun, what a tragically poetic scene.
Feng Xin's voice from behind him cussed, "What the fuck?! Where's Hua Cheng?! That fucker better get back here right now!-" He was cut off by a sharp remark, "Shut up you idiot! You're unbearable!" Mu Qing makes his way to where Xie Lian's crying. The sound's so torn, so broken, it reminds him of a mourning animal, it's nothing like the bright prince he once knew. He crouches down beside him, and reaches out a hand to Xie Lian's shoulder. His former prince flinches away, mumbling, "D-don't touch me...Please."
Mu Qing's expression softened, and he whispers softly, "He'll return," as much as he hated that red fucker, he had some stubborn respect for the ghost, "He'll come back."
Feng Xin offered a hand towards Xie Lian, Mu Qing stood and brushed himself off, Xie Lian made no effort to move.
Feng Xin, with unusual gentleness (which was more akin to someone just speaking normally), offered, "How about Mu Qing and I help you organise the shrine? Your highness? We should get out of here, ok? Can you do that for us? Hua Cheng will return to you, he promised, and I'm pretty fuck- I mean damn sure that red fu- Ow! Ok Mu Qing!- That guy keeps his promises, to you at least."
The god gives a shaky nod in response. Feng Xin aids him in standing, Mu Qing watches with observant eyes, but he stays near, his presence grounding. As they leave, Xie Lian feels a soft snap near his foot, oh. Did I just break another bone? He doesn't think about it for very long, it wasn't important, getting to the shrine and fixing it up was. Hua Cheng would've been upset at Xie Lian's lack of self care, but the god didn't care in the moment, it would fix itself up eventually. He looked dully at the string on his finger, it was still a bow, but a stray piece was loose. It was the side that belonged to Hua Cheng. Xie Lian assumed it was because Hua Cheng had 'dispersed'. The spell must not work where he is.
He would ask if Hua Cheng could repair it, it was truly a beautiful spell.
⋆𓂃
Fixing the shrine at Mt. Taicang was made quick work. Mu Qing swept (much to his distaste and Feng Xin's amusement), and Feng Xin helped repair the inner foundations. Mu Qing asked once, "Are you really sure you wish to stay here?"
Xie Lian had simply righted the altar and replied, "Yes. I promised I'd wait, and wait is what I will do. If he could wait for so long, so can I." Mu Qing and Feng Xin weren't very happy about this establishment, but they were in no position to make a rebuttal, so the two of them made a small vow to visit sometime.
As Feng Xin exited the shrine, he said to Xie Lian, "Keep us updated, ok?" he attempted some humour, "We wouldn't want to show up for Hua Cheng to beat us into the dirt." He made his leave and Xie Lian smiled softly, already thinking of what he would say and do when he saw his San Lang again.
He made the rest of the repairs himself, he dusted the rooms (perhaps too many times for the sake of busying his anxiety), cleaned the sheets of the small bed he had established, and most of all, he prayed. Everyday and every night and every second he wasn't busy, he prayed for Hua Cheng to come home.
Xie Lian made offerings (even though he knew Hua Cheng would hate watching his god kneel at an altar dedicated to him) in the hopes that they would somehow reach the ghost, some hopeful part of him believed it might even help San Lang come home faster. Hope was dangerous, but Xie Lian knew his hope would not be wasted on his San Lang.
P̵̢̛̹̈͑̓̇͂̊̓̋e̷̼͇͇̔̋̽̕r̶͔͚͂h̴̺̮̬̺̺̳͕̣̗͛̄̽̊̀̑͋̎̒́̏͝á̸̢͓̣̥̯͙͔͇͖̱̰̟̰͌̊̓̍͌̿̆̈̕p̵͈̰͇͈͈͇̔̀ş̸̫̱̪̤͛̆̏̾͋̋ ̵͔̮̺͇̭̜̮̖̺͔̋̀̿̈̿́̐̽̎̚h̴̨̗͔̜́̓̋͆̎͂̃̌̉̂̕͜ͅǫ̷̧̖͙̬͔̻͔͇̮͕̌̀̌̆͋̔̓͆͒̀̚͜͠p̸̞̻̖̘͔̦͚͂͛̐̀̀̿̈́͋̌͂ḗ̴̗̹ ̵͔̑̌̍̾̈́m̸̢̧̜̘͔̬̟͖̣̏̑͗̀̐́̐ạ̷̧̩͔͖̣͇̻͚̓̈́̀̈́͆̈́̏̃̽ḑ̴̯̟̰͇̦̜͔͔̼̐̈̍̓́͐̓e̵͓͑̓͌͗̈̂̃̇̎͘ ̸̨͎̟͎̳͍̥͔̘̝͊̊̈́̈̅̀͝͝ͅḧ̷̡̤̮̣̘̗̬͕̦̫͜i̷̡̳͇̟̳̗͉͙͊́̾̒̎̆͘m̵͕͕͋ ̷̧̤͍̝͕̞̝̫͚̝̰̗͎̊̄b̴̨̰̱̮͖̼̣͕̺̱̔̒̌̔͐͑͛̈́͝l̸̢̧̩͖͛̏̂i̶̢̞͉͉̳͚͕̽̂͌̏̏̍̄̀͐̇̾͠n̷̡̤͓̦̐d̸̢̏͆̂̀̅͐̀̋̆͘,̷̪̯̱̳͕̺̼̀̓̃͑̄͋̏̔ ̸̪̱͙͇͎̪̘̄͊b̸̻̓̍͌̔̄͑͠ě̸̼̑̆̓̓̿̈͘͘̕͝͝ç̷̡̮̞͇̪͉̗̉̆̏͑̈́̐͌͒ą̶̧̩̲̬̹͙̗̹̖̜̻̦̀͆͗̋̉̈̓u̸̻̟̓̒̃̍̏̾̏̈́͝͠͝ͅs̵̨̢͕̜͓̮͍̬̔̚ē̶̢̡̨̫̜̲̞̗͖̟̰̔̐͒̔́̾͛ ̸̟̙̩̤͈͓̟̼̲̼̘̈́̆͜͝ͅh̸̛̳͇̹̬́̑̄̉̅͝ͅȇ̶̡̛̯̞͂͗̈́͌̾̏̂͠͝͝͝ ̸͙̠̗̖͖͉̻̣̱̪͒͜s̷̖̆̓̀̔̑̅̀̈́͂t̶̨̻̲̮̦̳̣̻͔͇̓͌͐̌̑̊ͅi̵̬̟̙̞̟̩̤͍͖̱̩͐͆̌̈́̊́̋̌͋͠ļ̷̰̩͔̙̝̊l̶̢̻̝̻̘̠̘̪̖̔͝ ̸̯̜̈́͛d̶̡̢̩̹̮͖̝̜̲̈́́͊̐̈̑̍͘͠͝͝ͅǐ̸̢͎͋ḑ̸̧͚̺̯̺̹̺͔͇̼͔͐͗͊͗̌̃̾͋́̇̓̈́͘n̸̡̻̤̰̖̹̝̣̊̌͂͌̃͆͋̐͊͗͝ͅ'̷̲͙̳̙̝͓̭̯̻͕̬̋͂̏̚ṭ̵̢̗̟͙̙̰̯͒̀̀̌̆̐́̓̿͝ ̴̰͓͔͊̈͌̇͂̇͆̃̔̾̋͠ņ̵̗̤̥̼̫̯̳̙̙̜̍o̷̡̢̨͇̜̙̜̙͚͚̓͒͋́͐̈́̃̍͋͛̀̌̚ṱ̴̟̥̇͝i̶̡̡͈͙̗̼̪̞͉̲̘͊̐̌͘ͅc̵̡̬̫̼̼̪̏̆̓͒̈́̿̈́̃̒̿̋͜e̴̛͔̭̩̊.̷̧̛̝͎̮̠̬͆̈́̇
⋆𓂃
The shrine grew lonely much too quickly, maybe his time with San Lang had caused him to grow spoiled. He indulged in the ghosts presence; if alcohol was what most were addicted to, Hua Cheng was Xie Lian's addiction. He loved everything about him: his voice, his temperament and actions, his stories and knowledge. His sheer devotion was something Xie Lian didn't think he was worthy of, but San Lang seemed more than happy to provide it.
Maybe Xie Lian should let the ghost pamper him, maybe it was greedy, but he really wanted to see his beloved again. Xie Lian wanted to see that child-like grin and gleam in his San Lang's eyes when he said yes to letting the ghost do his hair or pick out his clothes. He wanted to feel loved again, to be wrapped up in that warm embrace. He paused in his cooking, something warm slid down his cheek, he was crying.
"Gods...What is wrong with me?" He whispered to the empty air of the shrine, he scrubbed the tears away with his sleeve, "If he waited for 800 years, I can wait for more." The air was warm outside, but the god tried to ignore how the shrine couldn't get any colder. He sighed, and looked down in dismay at the pot. What was in it could hardly be described as food, if only San Lang were here, it might take my mind off eating my cooking. He's always so respectful about it, and his cooking tasted- no, tastes- amazing. Xie Lian swallowed a few bites of he food, before deeming it inedible and throwing it out.
He sat outside, watching the setting sun. He waited for that familiar flash of red, or the glow of butterflies, or even the familiar clink of silver engraved vambraces and jewellery. He did this every night, the warm sun on his face didn't feel very warm. Not without his love beside him.
He never saw the red, or the butterflies, and never heard the clink of silver. He just told himself he was being impatient. He just needed to wait.
B̴̧̖̫̂̀̒͌̐̊̂̉̕u̷̢̠̘̩̼̻͒͜t̴̙̟̺̮͇̤̭͖̎̀̔ ̸̜͖̠̝̭͚̟̈́̊̇̃g̸̮̈͒̂̄͆́̿͝o̶̩̣̮͑̓͊̂d̶̖͗̊̑́͒̉s̸̢̢̛̬͙̼͉̠̯̩͆̿̂̈́̆͗ ̶̨̲̘͎͈̝̺͎̘͂̄̌̅̓̍̓w̴̰̦̌̽á̵̗̙͍̪͙̥͖͕̀̚͘̕s̷̯͉̼̤̱̮͋ ̸̭̍̂́̾i̴̗̲̥͚̞̿̾̒̉̀̚ͅt̵̜̜̤̥̘̭͆̓̈́͌́̅̀ ̶̱̩̲͒͊̔̂̃̓̿̓ẹ̵͎̞̖̣͇̎̾͗̍̽̍a̷̳̎͒̊̎̐̇t̵̡̙̖̬͉͉̼̀͆̇͜ị̵̞̯̣̱̹̽̈́̾̎́̾͝n̴̙̫͇͍͓̻̰͇͌͛́ğ̵͙̯̖͖̑̃ ̵̛̼̟̤̇̈́͗͌͑͝ḫ̵̦̲̃i̶̧̬̹̘͑́̚m̵̛͖̠̯̈̊̓̚ͅ ̶̢͎̯̫̜̏̇̀͋͆̽̕à̴̢͙̖̻̱ͅļ̷͈̈́͛̋̔̿̉̇̅̑i̶̛̱͛́v̷̨̥̬̩̞̈́̐̈́̕e̵̢͇͐̿̏̒̀̃̏̚͠.̷̛͚͚͓̟̮̟̙̓̄̏̉͜
⋆𓂃
It's been five months since San Lang was with Xie Lian. Still, he keeps hoping, he keeps cleaning, he keeps crying himself to sleep, wishing there was someone beside him. Yin Yu came to visit, he stayed for tea, and Xie Lian saw how tired he looked. Managing Ghost City surely wasn't an easy task so Xie Lian offered to help (much to Yin Yu's mortification).
Xie Lian insisted that he do something, "I feel terrible letting you handle all this, are you sure you don't need any help?" The words, it would help distract me were left unspoken. Yin Yu shook his head and bowed, "You highness there's no need to feel bad for this servant! Thank you for the generous offer, but I couldn't possibly ask help from you," he whispered, "Hua-Chengzhu would probably kill me."
Xie Lian only nodded and gave a strained smile, "Ah, ok." Yin Yu coughed somewhat awkwardly and eventually made his leave. Xie Lian watched him from the door, he whispered, "Please come home San Lang. I miss you so much." And Yin Yu could probably use some help... He tried to humour himself, but all that came form that was a wet chuckle and some more tears.
So many tears.
T̸̢͚̦̫̼͙̱̝̣́h̵̛͔͙̫̠͒͛̅̈́e̸͕̖͙͔̰͙͈͖̥̞̘̾y̵̡͈̤̹̲̠̥̣̹̜͌͌̔̍̀̍̓͜ ̶̙̩̙͑j̷̜̤͖͉̰͚̈́͒̄̂͂͌́ų̷̢̨̡̛͕͙͈̠̋̀̋̅̑̌͠ͅs̴̨̡̪̘̣͓̳̪͍̲̓̎͜t̸̨̥̯͋̊̑̊͑̍͜ ̶̭̫̳͍̊̐̔̊w̶̢̢̮̺̙̰̠̓̊̐̏̄͌̌͝͠o̶̟͓̯̖͕̩̍ṷ̵̠͇͍͇̱͉̀ḽ̷̢̟̤̩̍̌̏͂͑͊͝ͅḑ̶̪̮̆̔̌̇̓̔̋n̶̨̗̟͓̫̬̟͇̆̆̓̃͛͜͠͝ͅ'̸̬̻͒̀͐͒t̷̛͓̯̻͋͆́̽͘ ̴̡̨͖̣̻̟͉̫̓͜͜ͅs̴̡̢͙̘̹̿͊̎͝͠t̴̡͖̞̼̬̣̃͑̈́̇ő̵͎̽̀͐̓̔͆͝p̸̨̗̻̦̩͖̬̻͐
⋆𓂃
It's been seven months and San Lang is yet to come home. Xie Lian tells himself to be patient, he just needs to wait.
Xie Lian sits on the mat inside, he remembered what it was like to sleep with San Lang next to him. He had it brought from Puqi Shrine, it was the most comforting right now. He just sits there, still, eyes unfocused and eyes resting on his lap. His mind wanders, he thinks about what he'll do when Hua Cheng returns. It's so clear in his mind when he imagines it. It's enough to bring a small curve to his lips.
"San Lang!" Xie Lian exclaims as a familiar red greets his eyes, tears spring to his eyes. He rushes forwards to his lover, he's embraced in familiar arms, "Gege," Hua Cheng whispers the name like Xie Lian is the most precious thing in the world, he presses a kiss to Xie Lian's head, "I hope I didn't keep Dianxia waiting for too long."
Xie Lian hugs Hua Cheng tighter, "San Lang I-I missed y-you s-so much!" He sobs into Hua Cheng's chest, his San lang is back, and he's never been happier. Hua Cheng whispers reassuring words to him, "This lowly one is sorry for keeping you waiting for so long."
Xie Lian pouts slightly, "Don't refer to yourself like that San lang!" He snuggles closer to Hua Cheng, his tone vulnerable, "Just...P-please don't leave again?"
Hua Cheng nods, "Never again, Dianxia. I promise." And Xie Lian believes him. Why would his San Lang lie?
But the fickle thing with escaping to a dream? You have to wake up sometime. And wake up is what Xie Lian is forced to do.
A familiar voice calls from the front of the shrine, "Xie Lian! Your Highness? Are you home?" Xie Lian jolts slightly, already mourning the dream. Ah. Shi Qingxuan? I wonder what they're doing here. The small smile is morphed into a wider one, a fake one, one that makes something ugly curl in his chest. He should feel happier, his friend is here! But after being woken from his lovely dream, he can't bring himself to feel happy.
He opens the door, Shi Qingxuan's bright smile greets him, he's leaning on....someone Xie Lian didn't expect at all. It renders him silent, before he smiles at them both, "Shi Qingxuan, Black Water, good to see you both!"
He goes silent for a moment, first of all, Shi Qingxuan is in her female form, which shouldn't be possible. And secondly, Shi Qingxuan's aura doesn't seem...mortal. It actually seems to radiate the energy of a ghost. To an inexperienced cultivator, most would assume it's the Ghost King standing next to him, but Xie Lian knows better. Shi Qingxuan, is a ghost and she seems very cheery and even unbothered about it as well.
He Xuan nods, "It's pleasant to see you see, your Highness. Please, just He Xuan is more than enough respect." Xie Lian is confused, and send a small look at Shi Qingxuan as if to ask, when did this happen? Shi Qingxuan sends a small look as if to say, I'll explain later.
Xie Lian invites them in, "My apologies for keeping you standing out there for so long! Sorry if the shrine is a but messy, I've yet to clean."
Shi Qingxuan isn't dumb, she knows Xie Lian is rambling, and the shrine certainly isn't messy. In fact, it's absolutely spotless. Poor Xie Lian, she thinks, watching the strained smile Xie Lian's wearing, He's not taking Hua-Chenghzu's absence very well. He Xuan notices the absence of the other ghost king, "He's not back yet, I assume?" Shi Qingxuan stomps on his foot, Xie Lian freezes and says sombrely, "No...he's not back yet. But," he perks up a bit, "I'm sure he will be back in a...he'll be back soon."
He Xuan takes this as a sign to 'shut the fuck up' as instructed by a jab to the side after he tries to open his mouth again. He gives a small 'mn', and sits down at the table where Xie Lian has set up some tea. Shi Qingxuan sits beside him, and Xie Lian follows, but He Xuan notices how distant the god seems. Xie Lian tries to smile again, but both ghosts are more than aware he's putting on a brave face, 'So...What have I missed? It seems like my streak of not keeping up with news has continued ahaha.."
Shi Qingxuan smiles and sips her tea, "Well, to explain it simply. I kind of died?"
Xie Lian sends a wide eyed look at her, "I'm so sorry to hear that, I-I..." He goes silent, staring into his tea, "Um, forgive me for my poor choice in words." Shi Qingxuan takes no offence, she chuckles, "No worries, it's really ok your Highness!" Xie Lian nods and Shi Qingxuan continues, "Well, He-Xiong found me as a ghost fire, and he took care of me."
He Xuan seems to soften, "Mmm...And a good thing I did, you probably would've dispersed yourself from not being able to talk for so long."
Shi Qingxuan blushes a bit, "H-He-Xiong! You're so mean to meeee, stop laughing!" He Xuan smirks, but then schools his expression as if remembering a grieving Xie Lian is in the room with them.
It's awkward for a bit, before Shi Qingxuan takes control of the conversation, setting it on a more casual path. He Xuan could thank Hua Cheng (wherever the red bastard is) that Shi Qingxuan is such a smooth talker. Shi Qingxuan dons his male form somewhere during the conversation, Xie Lian forgot what it was like to see his friend so free to shift forms.
The afternoon pasts in a blur, and Xie Lian still feels empty. Still, he smiles at how happy He Xuan and Shi Qingxuan seem together. He forces the bitter feeling of jealousy down, he feels incredibly horrible that he can't just be happy for his friend. Shi Qingxuan has finally found his happy ending is it so greedy to want his?. Eventually, Shi Qingxuan grows tired and is carried out the door by He Xuan, the water demon pauses by the door, "Your Highness?" Xie Lian looks up, He Xuan sends him an understanding look, "He'll come back."
Xie Lian nods, and continues to clean up, "Come again sometime, ok?"
He Xuan nods, and the two ghosts are gone. Leaving Xie Lian is alone once more, left with the suffocating air of the shrine and his heavy worries.
⋆𓂃
A horrible thought buries itself in Xie Lian's chest, he tries to shake it off but it eats away slowly at his mind. He thinks he might go mad before Hua Cheng comes home, he wants it to stop, he wants it to stop.
It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It hurts It
That night, sobs and whimpers and wails fill the night air, a pitiful sound that continues for hours. Xie Lian wants Hua Cheng to come home, he wants his love to embrace him. Why can't he see his San lang again? Is his eternal misfortune against him again? Is it so greedy to want to kiss San Lang once more?
He just wants to be held, "S-San L-lang...P-please come h-h-home! PLEASE- I-I'LL DO A-ANY-ANYTHING IT HURTS I-T H-HURTS S-SAN LANG Y-YOU PROMISED THAT Y-YOU'D NE-NEVER LEAVE M-ME! PLEASE COME HOME. I B-BEG OF YOU IT'S TORTUROUS PLEASE IT-GODS IT HURT-S S-SO FUCKING MUCH. I-M SORRY." He keeps wailing until his throat bleeds and his finger nails are a bloody mess from clawing at the stone floor.
He lays there, unmoving, the only sign that he's alive is the ragged and slow rise and fall of his chest. He wishes it could stop altogether. He knows he's being weak, it hasn't been that long, Hua Cheng isn't-he can't-he's not dead. It's not possible. "He p-promised me," Xie Lian hiccups, he curls his fingers, wishing someone's hand was in his, "He's not gone. Because h-he promised. My San lang doesn't- he doesn't lie. Because h-my San Lang is the most sincere person in the world." He repeats it over and over again, until his eyes grow heavy and his breathing grows slow. Because if he stops, he doesn't even want to imagine that possibility.
Tears still drip down his face. And he sleeps thinking, I just want my San Lang to hold me. One more time.
Ḩ̶̢̨̛̛̗͔͙̯̼̜̞̟̖̮̩̰̮̱̪̫̳̹̘̘̯̘͍̰̺̟̗̪̳̼̀̈́͌͌̃͌̑̈́͌̅́̈́͗̓̎̈̈̃̓̑̃̓͗͒͐͊̆̍̈́͑̐̑̐̂̕̚̚͘͘͜͜ě̵̡̡̨̧̛̮̺̫̭̙͖̺͚̻̞͇̮̼̞̼͍̪̫̥̱̥̥̪̰̰̦̺̟̟͔̫̙̠͖̭̣̳̮̯̆͗̑̂͒́̀͛̔͛̋͐̇̇͒̆̉̓̐͛̾̏͒͌̽̀͐̔̉̃̿͊̓͊͌́̀͜͜͠͝ͅ ̵̢̨̨̢̛̯̳̲̭̩̬̺̼̻͈̝̩͈̹̰͕̠͈̬̺̬̮̦͔̺̹̥̪̹͇̲̖͔̯̘̖͇̬͔̖̹͇̾̾̊͆̋͐̃̇̽̿́̈́̊̔̓͌̾̉̀͛̓̈́̓̎́͗̊̍̂̑̍̑͘̕͠d̷̢̺͎̭̖̠͖͚̯̣̙̼͕͙͖͔̟̜̜͓͓̺̳͖̖̭̖͍̟͗̔̆̓̅͊̆̿̿̇͆̈̉̅̎̇͗̏̊͛͆̃̋̂̽͛͂̒̇̊͌̔̎̆͘̕̚̕̕̚͜͜ͅͅớ̸̛̞͖̥͇̥͚̳̖̖̾͑̊̃̎̈́̂̈́́̌͒̈́͋͒̀́́̄͗̀̿͒̍̊͊͒̒̑̕͝e̴̢̨̨̢̡̛̺͎̬̞̪̫̗̟͕̞̝̘͎͈̭̜̪̟̹̤̭̹̲͇̱̦͈͖͙̙̺̝̥̩̺̙̜̯̗̣͙̱̱̾̏̍̓́͋̍͊͌̽́͆̄̒̐͂̃͌̊̎͂͑͊̐̋̔̋͂̅͋̈͒̋̈́̈̍̽̾͘͘̕͘͝͝ͅͅş̵̢̡̧̛̛̜̼̘͇̠̗̬̱̻̥̭͈̙̙͚̭͓͎͙̖̟̦͉̜͇̞͙͖͇̈́̊̅̎̋̎͊̂̀́̈̏́͐̾͂͂̂̒͛̀̃̀̎̓̈́̕̚̕̚͝͝͝͝ͅͅn̷̡̢͙͈̬͚͕̭͕̩̬̦̙̦̜͚̯̜̣̯̬͖̱̅͒̾̋̓͜͜͝͝ͅͅ'̵̢̛̛͓͈̹̙̙̭̙͒͋̅̃̿̏͆̿̈́̏̋͘͘͘͘͘ţ̵̧̝̺̥̲͙͉̩̫̰̙̼̮̹͚̮̮̬̈̿͒̑̈́̊̔̂̈̆͆͗́͊̆̌̍͜ ̸̮̝̩̆k̸̨̡̛̳̻͚̭͚͈͈̻̠͚̱̤̹͍̝̠̠̪͎̺̼̺̙̈͒͐̐̎͛̓̾̑̈̍̀̿̈́̾͊̌̎̑͗́͋̆͘͘͘͜ņ̷̧̛̦͕̪͔͓̗̝̟̳̩͔͖̳̫͎̣̮̤̔͑̇̋̈͊̆̈́͌̔́͛̂̆̂̈́̈́͂̇͛̄̉̋͆̂̓͌̄̐̈́́̌̾̔̽̃̎̈́͝͝͠ͅơ̵̧̛̛̮͔̫͓̯͚͉̙̬̠͉͇̰̜͚͋̈́͗̃͋̒̐̀̅̾́́̍̃̋̍̏͆̓̇͐̓̓̓͛̍̀̏̆͒̽͂̂̃͌̈́̄̚̚͜͜͝͠͠ẃ̷̢̡̘̣͇̙͓͇͉͖͕̩̦̭̤͋͋̆͒̏͐́̐̀͐̿̊̏̕͠ͅ ̷̡̨̡̢͎͍͓͔̬̬͙̬͖̯͉͔̹̥̰̼̮̙̫̮̗̯͉̖͔͉͈̬̟̣͙̭͉͉̘̥̱̰͈̠̲̠̙͂͒̉̈͆̋̋̎̾̈͊̓̈́͘̕͜͝ͅt̷̛͚̰͓͇̝͉̠̞͑͒͂̔̀͗̓̎̇̎͗̋̃͐̓̓̑̄́̈́͋̔͘̚͘̕͠͝h̴̨̢̧̧̧̧͎͍͙͇͉̼̳̥̣̗͉̻͚̮͍͙̹̱̘̗̞͈̰͇̟̪̝̻̖͉̳̗͔͓̞̼̻̼͈͉̜̐͌̐́̀̂̾̉͆̉̂̉̈́͌̇̀̃͌̈́͋͛̾͊̓̐́̃̾͂͛̒́̇͛̍̂̆̆̎̒́̀̕̕̚̕͠͝͝a̷̢̧̨̘̫͇͇̦͉͍̳̟̝̤̺̝͖͙̗̾́̃̿̌̓͂͊̔͌͌̍͂͑͛̋̋̆̓̿͛̕͠t̵̨̛͙͖͎͙͇̬͓̘͇̖̼̜̮̰̝̲̹̝͍̹̙͔͚̻̝̩̟̱̙͓̯̲͍̺̪͔͚̮̗̏̂̃̉́̄̾̎̾̇͋̇̈͛̈̒͂̅͒̂̀̽̔̐̓̍́͊̍͊̌̏̑͋͂̚̚̕͜͜͜͝͝ͅ ̶̢̢̢̛̰̝̲̰̳̘̝̻͙̻͕͍͔͈̝̜͍̄̐͒̓́̇̃̇͒̿͛̎̈͛͊͑̀͐̌̈́́̎́̔̃̑̅̂̈́̄̐̋̇̚͜͝͝S̶̡̢̟̹͔͍͓͓̟̹̖͕̯̱̘̝͙̰͓̝͖̙̻̺̗̬̤͖̠͇͉̟̳͗͒̿̔̽̉̉̑̈́̍͑̿͂͐̄́̀̆͑͑̔͋̒̾̉͋̋͂̍̿̈́̊́͑̕͠͝͝ͅâ̴̛̝̞̰̇͆̇̉̇̏́̒̅́̿̈̑̕͝n̵̨̧̡̛̮̪̦̼̯͖̻̠̙̺̪̝̤͕̙̬̫͒̓̈́͌̒̈̒̔͌͝ ̸̡̡̛̫̮̣͙͈̤̠̤͋͛͛̐̉͑́̎̉̇̒̐̅̌̋͒̔͗͂̀̈̇̈͂̑͐̂̈́̿̇̋̇̆͛̇͑̊̀̇̔̾̄͘͝͝͠͝͝L̷̡̛̛̛̩̮͕̬̯͙̭̈́́͗̊̀̄͌̉̈́̂̾̓̈́̃̓͋̑̽́͘͘͘̚̚à̵͚̯̪̗̹̈́͊͋͆̈́̀͛̀̏͑̈̏͂͒̇́̒͐̕̚͠͝͠͝n̴̨̧̠̭͈͎͉̭̱͚̼̬̭̼̪͇̖̤̱̙̙͔̭̝͍̹̻̻̜̹͇̟̬̝̅̆̈́͒̉̈́̈́̓̈́̌͗́̄͐̾̔͌͆͒̓̾͐̔̇̓̾͊͋̚͘̕͜ͅğ̸̨̢͓̘͚̲͓͚̪͚͔̘̹͖̙͍̬̬͉͍͍̗̟͚̰͈̮̯͈̹̞̼͐̍̏̀́̇̀̔̈̊̌͗͆̊̀̏͛͊͜͜͝ ̸̡̡̛̛͓͕̩͉̖̥̤̗̟͇̰͔̇̅͗͛̈́̂͗̔̉͐̎̿͒͒̆̿͗̓̆͗̈́̉̎̾̾̓̋͐̑͛͆͠w̵̨̢̡̛̺͙̹͚̘̹̙̬̬̤̙̯̪̪̦͙͉̝͙̟̰͍̽̇̋͐̇͗̈́̏͋́̄̌̽̆̑̓̾̚͝͝ì̶̢̡̡̢̡̢̧̗̖͚̤̰̘̙͖̲̠͍͙͙̭̼̘̭̲̘̮͙̲͚̇̀̿̂̂̉͛̍̓l̴̛̫̰͓͍̈́͐̐́̍̇̊͐̃̓͛̂͗̌̄̎͗̿̅̆̿̀̅̒̉̿̍͊̂̕͘͘͝͝͠ḷ̶̡̢̹̰͈̹͓̠̰̯̤͔̗̩̭̺̯̠̟͕͛̓̌́̈́̔͒͂̋̾̑̏͗̽̋̾̈́͗̒̈̇̉̄̈́͆̚̕̕͘͘̕̕͝͝͝͝͠͠ ̸̨̨̧̡͎̥̥̲̹̭̠͉̩͈̞̱͇͉̜̲̩̬̬̪͉̣̗̩̀̍̅͗̍͐̆͆̊͑̋́̀̐͗̑͗͊͛̌͌ͅͅn̷̫̩̙̼̯͂̒̊̄̊͋̈͗̇̽͌͗̑̍̋̏̓́͊̈͂̍͗̊̅̃͂̑̓̽͛͗̃̾̓̈́̿̉̿͑̍̌̈̕̚͠͠ę̴̢̬̥̪̞͈̦̖͔̪̖͈͗̎͑́̅̓̿v̵̦̞͙̣̺̖̙̳̜̙̻̱͉̑̅̋̽̒͑͑̎͌͂͋̃̈̐͛͋̐̂̏̕ḕ̵̛̪̻͕͍̜̬̠̮̥̖̪̪̭̮̰̮͕̬̬̦̤̺̠̹͚͇͎̅́̄̓́̔͐̍͂̑̀̐̀͂̓̕͘̚͘͜͝ͅͅr̵͔̟̿̇ ̸̧͙͎̘̬͉̙̙̥̬̍͒͑̆́̔͐̐̄͗̓̃̀̈́̈̉̀̈́̾̿͑̂͋̀͑̊̄̐̍͂̎̀̆̉͌̂̌͒̒͗̌̀͗̅͊̚͘͝͠͠h̷̨̢̢̹̼͈͙͇̠̟͖̪̲̅̀͗̍́̔̈͑̏͐͌̎͌́̈̑̑̑́̂̊̈̿͗̍̔̎̈́̕͘̚͝͠͠͠ų̵̡̣̭͎͕̯̘͖̼̻͓̙̠̜̣͙̪̦̻̣̣̲͙̦̠̣̮̲͐̓̽͐͒̎̓͐̆́͂́͋̿͐̃͐̒͛̊̏͐̀̿͌͑͗̅̈́̿͌̈́̆̈̚̕̚͜͜͠͠͝͠g̵̡̢̮̥̦̫̻̲̻̦̺͚̥̗̰̥̦̙̪͈͔̜̰͖̳͂̑̿̉̈́̈́̀̎̌̈́͂̔̇̿́̄̋̔̍̇͛́̽̽́̋̊̔̍̈́̇̑̏͊̿̊̈͂̐̈́̀̏̐̈́̓̕̕͜͝͝͝ ̷̨̡̢̛̛̛̛͍̟̥̩͎̭̥̞͙̬̠̣͖̜̼͙̞̠̠̗̗̙̥͇̰̲͔̠̤̳̦̲̟̥̺͖̆́̀̓̀͆̃̀́̇̋̓̋̉̌͐̎̌̄̄̓́̌̉̃͊̕͠ḧ̴̛̛̞̖̰̱̫́͑̐̇̀̍̾̀͑́́̓̇̏̈́̂͂͒́͛́͌̊̆i̴̭̘̘̰͍͔̤̠̩͉̲̳̱̯̜̬͍̳̹̣̳̳̥̖͕̥͉̜̲̎͌́̅͑̇͗̋̈̍̾̓̏́͆̓͛̽̅͊̉̍̾͑͛̎̋̎̃̌̋̋̈́̕͜͜͠͠m̶̢̻̱̐̏̾͜ ̶̨̛̛̛͙̭̗̤̯͖̼̙̟͈͍͉̬̜̲̩̺̬͇̘̥̠͎͕̹̗͙̥̮̞̬͉̰̘̐̔͌͌̂͆̌́̋̽̀̔͂̆̄̋̏̽͊̓̽͛̐̓̈́͗͑̎̓̄́͑̋̿͆̊͑̃̂̿̚̚͝͝͝͝ͅą̴̢̛̛͓̠͔̣͎̳͙̤̣̤̺͓̙̗̪̘͉̳͕̜̳͇̠͇̯͇͕̉͑̊̎̇̈́̍̂̒̔̀̓̌̎̏̉͆̌̂̽̋̋̔̔͗́̚͜͜͝ͅg̵̢̡̗̠̩̫͍̤̻͉͚͛̀̏̈́͌̑͋̈́̆̃͂̋̿̆̌̌͂͋́͊̀̍̈̕͜͝a̷̧̡̨̨̢̢̡̛̛̛̛̩͔͍̗͈͎̜̻̬̜͈̖̤̭̖̞͓̰̫̼̘̞͇̓̆̊̔͒̀͛̑̑̒̃̀͛̈́͋͋̑̅̑͐̅̽͊͛̂͂̌͌̀̔̕͜͝͝͠͠i̸̞̲̩̘̪͙͉̳̞͈͙̹̖̽͊̉̓̊̓̅̀̾̆͐̀̈̄̓̔̊͂̇͊͌̓̚̚͜͝n̵̞̺͖̠͇̲̟̣̙͓̹̱̭̤̫̗̰̋͝.̸̨̦̠̩̳̮̗̻̙̭̞̳̣̦̙̳̪͔̯̳̹̣̎̓̃͋͊̈́̉̉̋̽͌͗̆͐̉͛̈́͛͆̀̄̈́͛̑͆͗̕͘̕̕̚͜͝͝͝ͅͅ
⋆𓂃
It's been a whole year since Xie Lian saw Hua Cheng. He doesn't even know how he finds the energy to get out of bed in the morning. He's curious is he could just rot there. But he knows he can't just give up, it would be weak of him, it would be selfish, it would be cruel to Hua Cheng. His San Lang wouldn't want that.
And so Xie Lian doesn't give up, at least, not entirely. He's given up on how he looks, he only needs to look good around his beloved. His hair's dishevelled, his robes are torn, and there's blood near the sleeves. His eyes tired and red from nights crying himself to sleep, and deep bags deeper than Yin Yu's have formed under his eyes. He visits Ghost City, the town is less lively without Hua Cheng, the residents try to keep up the energy, but it's more muted than ever.
They gathered around Xie Lian in high hopes of their Hua-Chenghzu accompanying him. When they saw Xie Lian's sad look, they all murmured apologies and some even cried. He didn't return after that. He couldn't stand it, why was everyone acting like Hua Cheng was dea-gone? He couldn't be gone, he wasn't gone. Xie Lian wouldn't believe it.
Yin Yu was under so much stress, Xie Lian heard that he almost killed himself. That news only made the pit in Xie Lian's chest yawn deeper. Quan Yizhen had been devastated, and the former shidi and shixiong were sharing the martial gods mortal residence. Xie Lian wanted to visit, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. What if San lang came back while he was out? Wasn't waiting for him more important? He felt terrible, he should've gone and seen Yin Yu a long, long time ago. But Xie Lian had already convinced himself that waiting for Hua Cheng and sharing the news would be more important.
He knew it wasn't true. What was more important than going to see a friend who had tried to kill themselves?
Feng Xin and Mu Qing stopped by to see how Xie Lian was faring. Feng Xin had cussed when hearing that Hua Cheng hadn't returned yet. Mu Qing scolded Xie Lian gently for not updating them sooner, and he cleaned Xie Lian's soiled robes and wounds. Xie Lian knew he didn't deserve their kindness, but he allowed them to do as the wanted, as long as it brought them some closure. They were called up to heaven far too quickly, and both showed displeasure at leaving Xie Lian.
he didn't deserve their worry
He Xuan and Shi Qingxuan visited as they promised to do. Shi Qingxuan had grown more comfortable as a ghost, and the Ghost King intended to propose (Shi Qingxuan remained oblivious). Xie Lian had smiled at their relationship. They all chatted for a while (they ignored the absence of a red clad ghost), and then they left. Leaving Xie Lian all alone once more.
Xie Lian sat under the setting sun, like he had for the past year. He still hoped his eyes longed for a glimpse of red and butterflies and his ears strained for that sound of silver.
It never came.
Xie Lian clutched and shredded the grass beneath his hands, when would his San Lang come home? Why did he have to wait for so long? What had he done to the universe to deserve this absolute torment? Ruoye slithered up his arm, Xie Lian tucked his knees up to his chest, "Ruoye, when is he going to come home? Why is it taking so long? Just why? Why, why why? Why can't- wh-why can't he come home?" Ruoye sympathetically patted Xie Lians cheek. It didn't do anything to ease Xie Lian's sorrow.
He stood numbly, and made his way back inside. He eyed the shrine, it wasn't clean enough yet. It wasn't as clean as San Lang would've cleaned it. It would never be as clean as San Lang would've left it. He got to work, he scrubbed and scrubbed and swept and washed until the whole place was fucking spotless. Yet it still wasn't clean.
He screamed, a hoarse, terrible scream from a ruined throat. He destroyed the table that San Lang had made for him, and he splintered the chairs that he himself had made for him and San lang, and he shredded the bed the one he was going to share with San Lang. He stopped his onslaught when he reached the altar, it was the only thing left untouched from his horrible, greedy grief.
He sighed, his eyes too tired and dry for tears. He kneeled before the altar and placed his forehead against the stone, "I'm so, so sorry San Lang. I-I destroyed those lovely chairs y-you made and everything t-that I made f-for us. It almost f-feels like I'm t-trying to forget t-that you were ever here. I'm sorry." Xie Lian sat there until the incense burned out and until he had replaced it 30 times. He replaced it until he ran out.
He could only stare at the last slowly burning stick, and he decided it was time for a better way to worship his dear San Lang.
S̶̠̙̯̻̩͇̤͗̿͗̌̒̀̽͝á̵̟͔̭͖̬͓͎̳͚̩̩̈̿̓̉͝n̵̙͔̩̣͔̥̋̇́̈̀̌̿̀̒͆̓͝ ̷͕͚̉̽͋̅̀̒̑̐̐̌̔̉͠͝L̷̡̙̯̻̎̎̽̄͛̌̑͒̌̿̀a̷̧͎̫̤̱̖͋̈́͐͂n̴̢̨͙͚͕̳̠̺̞̳͉̈́̊̈̎g̴̨͙̠͂̾̽̉̍́̐̚̚͘̕͝͠͝ͅ ̷̛̩̘͖͔̘͍̬͍̭̠̈̀̃̄̌̈̿̚̚w̴̡̧̢̧̛͇̩̙̬̞͑̈́̎͂͜͝ơ̴͈̞̜̈̈́̾̄͒͑͋̑͐̚͠͝͝ú̷̡̢̱̥͓̮̺͇͕̳͉̱̫̖̓̆́̆̑̐̽̂̏̈̎l̴̡̢̧̛̠̗̺̣̻̜̭̗͍͛̂́͂̎̑͒̇d̷̛̦̀̂̂͗͋́̒̅͋͂ ̸̜͔̯́̇n̵̛̛̛̹̼̟̤̙̮̪̱͕̾͛̎͛̀̎̈́͊̿̕ͅę̴̨̢̨̨̻̻͇͈͇̯̟̰̿̿͐̓̏̿̑̉̐̅͂̉͝v̸̳̞͇̔̍̃̈͌̌̐̊̓̀͋̀̐͝e̵̡̜͚̽̑̑̽̒̕͠r̷̢̢̛̲̯̗̱̬̉̄̓̾̆̂̀̇̏̈̋͘ ̶̢̼͕̹̩̦̣͈̣͎̳̖̜̗̃̕f̵̡̛̘̟͉̮͈͎̯̏̑̈́̕͜o̸̬̯̰̦̪̳̝̜͙̞̦͖͋͐̃̋́̚͘̚͠ͅr̷̺͛̈́̚g̵̨̬̫̲̥̥̱̟͕͚̽̓̀̈́̈́̇̅̾́̚̕͠͝ĭ̴̩̟̈́̈́̑͋͘v̵̤̮̞̂ȩ̴̛̖͙͈̽͒͆̃̽͋͜ ̴̨̛̀̉̒̄̀͌̓͊͗̈̄̑͠ͅh̵̙̅̉͛͐̎̒͋̚̕͝i̵̬̰͕̟͓̺͉̥̻͚͔̎͗m̸̦͇̠̩̯͕̞͇̬̂͌̾͜.̸̡̼̮̤̥̝̦̪͐͋̌̓̆͝
⋆𓂃
Xie Lian held Fang Xin to his wrist, the blade was so sickeningly cold, he shivered slightly from just wielding it. He could almost scoff at the irony of using this sword, last time it spilt his blood, he had been begging for it to stop. Now it had become addicting, the feeling of spilling his 'holy' blood for his beloved, the pain and sting of the wound. He slowed down his spiritual power to stop the skin from stitching itself back together.
He sliced the skin in one clean motion, the blood trickled down his wrist and fingertips onto a small bowel he had placed on Hua Cheng's altar. Ruoye cowers in the corner, it wanted to stop it's master from hurting himself, but it held no power of his decisions.
Xie Lian was sure Hua Cheng would've hated his god injuring himself, but a sick part of Xie Lian considered that this was just for the euphoria pain tends to bring. He hissed slightly when he cut too deep and more blood than expected escaped the wound, he repaired it with a flick of his hand. He gazed at his forearm, small, neat and white scars trailed up his arm, he imagined his San Lang's lips kissing each one and it only encourage him to keep carving away his own body.
Nobody knew what he did for his loved one. Not Mu Qing, not Feng Xin, not He Xuan, Shi Qingxuan, not Yin Yu or Quan Yizhen, not even the new heavenly emperor, Pei Ming. He treated it like his and San Lang's secret, it placed a rose coloured lens over the sickeningly sweet weak act. Maybe it's an absolutely sacrilegious act to preform at an altar, much more at his lovers altar, but when has Xie Lian ever cared about that? As if the two of them hadn't done worse.
H̵̨̛̛͍̼̦̟̺̝͎̗̠̍̉̾̿͐̾̀͒͜e̴̡̢̛̯̖̥̭͇̩̹͓͙̟͉̋̅̎̉̄͊̒̕̕̕̚͜ ̷͖̩̖̀̾̄̇p̴̡̧͔͎͕͓̦̱̮͂̋̓͘̚ͅr̴̛̪̤̬̞͙͍͚̺̳̰̂̔̉̊̿͛̓̑̀́̓͝͝ä̴̧̨̫̯́͊͑̎̀͊y̶̡̨̦͎̫̹̳̙͖̾̓͒̑̎̕ͅȇ̶̲̥̦͓̟̬̻̄̍̽̐̉̚d̷̦̮̟̦̍̑̂̇̌̚͜ ̵̛̼̳̻̫͓̯̦̣͇̪͐t̴̘̀́͗̌͗͌́̃͝͝ḩ̷̳̤̘̜͙̣͕̥̆͌̾̅̒̿̎͗̈́̈̿̑͘͠a̸̞̍̅͂̉̈́̿̆̚͝͠͠t̸̡̛̙̩͉̼̥̦̼̠̱̆͑̾́͝ ̷̛̥̬͈͑͗̋͝S̸̨̭̘̥͚̝̬͓̫̥̳̀̆̽́̑͌̂̐̓͊͜a̶̮̬͇͙̻̘̰̤̋̀̀͊̑̃͆̈̈n̸̨̛͓͊̄͝͠͠ ̷̨̡̛̱̻̩̝͕͕̜̥͕̣̼͆̀͗L̸̛͈͕͕̻̏̏̀̔͛̔́̿̅ã̸̮̺͇̮̳͔̈̓̿́̈́̂͂̋̄̕ņ̴̙̤͂̃̎̿̓̔̐͒̀͝g̵̨͚̦̺̠̻͚̪̣̘̯̳̉̉̍̐̀̚ ̴̧̫͙͉̰͔̜͉̤̙͛̏̀̈̎̈ͅŵ̴̘̼̞͇̦̞̱̖͚̮͇͌̌̃̉́̃̚ơ̷̟̲̙̫̈̍̋̎͒̀̈́͌̐̒͝ų̵̧̙̣̞̜͙̱̐̊͒̀̈́̐͆͠l̸̢̢̮̞̣̫̱͚̔͒̆͑̒̑̒͗́̕̕ḑ̴̢́͑̉͊͋ ̵̬̖͔̋̀̈́̅͂́͝p̶̗͕̟̘̰͉̗̱̫̞̜̈́͗́̑͑́͗͋̊́͜a̸̧̻͉̪̰̲̍͂͗̍ͅr̶͎̦͔̊̏̈́̎͆́͛͐̂̌͂̇̚ḑ̵̩̠̝̬̔͋̓̓̏̚ǒ̸̡̢̤̠̺͈̜̹͍̘̲͚̈͆̐n̷̮̱̩͈̥̟̟̫͖͐͂́̓̋̍͐͂̀͑̎͝ ̷̛̩̳̅̎̉̂͑̾̓́̅͒̔͠h̶̨̛̦̳̙̹̩̼̬͈͍͎̃̇͆͗͗̅̽͊̂̚̕͠ǐ̴̡̩͇̒͝ͅm̸̛͓̻̪̫̳̘͖̞̰̬͔͌͌̇̒̓͐͐̎̅̚.̵̛͚̤͇̩̩̜̹͇͒̋̃͐́̎͑̒̈͝͠
⋆𓂃
Xie Lian brings an ox back to the shrine atop the mountain. It's the Lantern Festival, and he watches the bright lights illuminate the skies, he wonders if all of Heaven is watching. The lanterns warm light brushes his face, the ox continues it's steady pace, carrying the cart he rides in. As they reach a hill, and as the ox begins to climb it, Xie Lian sees him.
Red clothes, silver vambraces, dark hair, an eye patch. A scimitar sits on his hip, it's red eye catches sight of Xie Lian and squints happily. "San Lang?" Xie Lian whispers, "San Lang!" Hua Cheng releases a lantern into the sky and turns to Xie Lian, "Gege," he smiles, Xie Lian leaps into his arms, "Did gege miss me?"
Xie Lian cries, "Yes! Yes, oh I-I missed my dear San Lang s-so much!" Hua Cheng rubs a smoothing pattern onto Xie Lian's back, his god trembles and cries. Xie Lian looks up, "Is it really you?"
Hua Cheng gives his familiar grin, "None other than me. I would never fool gege, I missed you too, this one is sorry for taking so long, Dianxia." Xie Lian hugs him tighter, "Please don't go again, ok? Next time let me protect you." Hua Cheng gives a soft 'mm' and returns the embrace.
Xie Lian releases a lantern, and he watches as it floats gently into the sky, the wind is slightly chilly, but Xie Lian feels warmer than he's felt all year. He shivers unconsciously, and Hua Cheng offers his outer robe. Xie Lian burrows his face into it, it smells just like Hua Cheng, autumn, blood, warmth, home. Xie Lian's eyes begin to droop, and he leans further and further into Hua Cheng's chest. His San lang takes it as a sign to take them back.
He carries Xie Lian onto his arms, and the two of them ride the ox cart, Xie Lian snuggles further into Hua Cheng's embrace. His beloved sets him down onto the mat of the shrine, he doesn't comment absence of a table, chairs and bed. He lays beside Xie Lian, and presses gentle kisses to each of Xie Lian's eye lids. He presses a kiss to each of Xie Lian's scars, they heal under his touch.
Xie Lian sighs contentedly, finally, his San Lang's home.
⋆𓂃
Xie Lian wakes with a small groan, light hits his eyes, and he slowly sits up. He smiles, remembering last night, he turns his head, "Did San La-" he trails of, San Lang isn't there. That side of the mat is empty, cold. Xie Lian tries to calm is rapidly increasing heartbeat, m-maybe San Lang just went to do some work outside? Xie Lian gets up far too quickly, a head ache blooms in his head, he hisses when fabric touches the scars on his skin. W-wait. Those- those were't there? Didn't San Lang heal- what?
Xie Lian stumbles outside, San Lang's not there. There's no new cut wood, no red outer robes thrown over the fence, no clothes hanging on the line. There's no cart and ox, there's no trace of Hua Cheng's energy anywhere. He sucks in a sharp gasp of air, "N-no! He, he came back!" Xie Lian's forced to face the ugly beast in his chest, "D-didn't he...? RUOYE!" The silk band flies out of the shrine door at it's master call, he grabs it and screams desperately, "DID SAN LANG AND I COME HOME LAST NIGHT TOGETHER?!" Xie Lian takes a moment to stop shaking the silk band, and the answer it gives leaves him empty.
It hesitates, Xie Lian's eyes light up in vulnerable hope which is instantly crushed by Ruoye shaking it's 'head'.
He freezes, "N-no...W-was it, just, a d-dream?....N-No! It's not possible, IT'S NOT POSSIBLE IT'S NOT POSSIBLE IT'S NOT POSSIBLE IT'S NOT POSSIBLE IT'S NOT POSSIBLE IT'S NOT POSSIBLE IT'S NOT POSSIBLE IT'S NOT POSSIBLE IT'S NOT POSSIBLE IT'S NOT POSSIBLE IT'S NOT POSSIBLE IT'S NOT POSSIBLE IT'S NOT POSSIBLE IT'S NOT POSSIBLE IT'S NOT POSSIBLE IT'S NOT POSSIBLE IT'S NOT POSSIBLE IT'S NOT POSSIBLE IT'S NOT POSSIBLE NO NO NO NO....no." Xie Lian flings Ruoye into the dirt, the silk band stays still there, unable to help it's master grief, "FUCK. FUCKING HELL WHY DID IT HAVE TO BE A DREAM!?" He screams his grief into the heavens above.
He claws at the dirt until his nails bleed and his robes are soiled. He cries and cries and cries, of course! It was just too fucking good to be true. Why couldn't it be true? Why couldn't the universe let him have his happiness? The god sobs until he can't anymore, he shrieks and curses until his vocal cords give in, he sheds tears until his eyes can't cry anymore.
That night, he slices the Fang Xin into his arms over and over and over again until Ruoye has to wrench it out of his grip, so much crimson stains the altar, it's extinguished the small incense Xie Lian managed to find, it's painted a small white flower Xie Lian left there bright red.
And this time there's no umbrella to cover it. There wasn't a little boy wrapped in bandages to offer it.
⋆𓂃
It's nearing the end of two years, and Xie Lian's hope had diminished greatly, his greedy heart is bleeding itself dry. He places two fingers to his temple, a gesture he has not done since Hua Cheng left him dispersed to restore himself.
'He Xuan?' There's a pause, and then a tentative response, 'Your Highness?'
Xie Lian takes a deep breath, 'I have a....question.'
He Xuan waits expectantly, Xie Lian finally utters the words he's been holding on his tongue and mind for months, theoretically, how long would it take for a ghost like San Lang to reform into a physical form?'
He Xuan considers his question, I assume it would've take about a year, but since he's yet to come back, I assume it was just because he used so much spiritual energy to break your shackles. Even he had his limits.
Xie Lian listens carefully, and is there any possible chance that he wouldn't come back? The words fall onto the array, plain, painful, vulnerable.
He Xuan's response is almost instantaneous, I highly doubt it. The only reason he's still in this world is because of you, isn't it? I'm pretty sure it's the ghost's worst nightmare to leave you for too long. Plus, if his ashes are safe, which I'm sure they are because he left them with you, he'll come back. After He Xuan gives his response, Xie Lian instinctively reaches into his robes to feel that cool ring.
His hands find nothing.
He chokes on air and cuts off the connection with Black Water. He fumbles with his robes, he tears them off and finds no ring. No San Langs ashes. He cries in pure fear and tears apart the shrine for the ring, his beloveds way back to him. He doesn't even notice when tears begin to make their way down his face, he caves in on himself, clutching his head as if trying to tear out any memory of where he might've lost the ring out of the depths of his deteriorating mind.
The altars offerings are knocked over in his panic, the bowl of blood spills, the flower he collected this morning crushed. Mandarins topple to the floor, Xie Lian doesn't even register that he's destroyed the place he worshipped his lover.
"NO! I-I COULDN'T H-HAVE POSSIBLY- NONONONONONONONONONONONONONONO." Xie Lian sobs, "There-there's n-no possible...I-I wouldn't..." A small memory arises that leaves ice in his stomach. A memory from two years ago, one that he didn't pay any mind to.
'As they left, Xie Lian felt a soft snap near his foot, He doesn't think about it for very long' He dry heaves, and falls onto all fours, his torn and robes are thrown around him. He howls, he remembers- fuck he fucking remembers thinking that it wasn't important. If only he knew how fucking important it was.
"I-I killed San Lang," it takes a moment to really sink in, "I killed San Lang. He said he would die for me no matter what as long as I was safe, he gave me love, he gave me devotion. He game me a home. And what did I do?" Xie Lian yowls like a wounded animal, "I-I BETRAYED HIM, I KILLED HIM, AND I WAS SO IGNORANT TO IT. WHY?!" He knew it was a matter of fact that he cherished was doomed, after all, he was 'The God of Misfortune', 'The Laughingstock of The Three Realms', 'The Scrap Immortal'. His San Lang was the only one who had changed that, who had made him feel human, made him feel loved. San Lang had worshipped him and come back for him.
And what had Xie Lian done? He had dispersed his ashed and killed him and doomed his soul to Hell. He had spat it the face of his lover and crushed him into the dirt all while mourning him. The sheer hypocrisy hit Xie Lian like a blow to the face. The pain eating his heart felt so much worse than the 100 stabs, it felt more suffocated than being buried in that coffin.
Hell, those times were even preferable. "Because San Lang was still here. He was still waiting. If only he knew what a monster he was waiting for, of gods what have I done?"
And the god, who was once name 'Heavens Delight', 'The Prince who Pleased the Gods', truly understands what grief feels like. It's not having a blade thrust into your organs ovr and over again by the very people you tried to help. It's not seeing your friends leave you after years of companionship. It's not seeing bodies hang from the ceiling, the bodies of the people who cared for you your whole life. It's not witnessing soldiers die in your name. It's not even getting a shackle placed over your throat and ankle, sealing your power and luck. It's not getting buried alive and dying over and over again just to come back to life.
The knowledge of knowing that you were the reason for your loves death is so much worse. It's worse than all of those situations combined and thrown at him ten fold, it's so much worse because he knows it was all his fault for being so careless. For being so selfish and stupid. It's all his fault because it could've been prevented, it's all his fault because if he hadn't fucked up, his San Lang might still be here.
S̸̨̝̼̖̟͍̮̦̭̗͉̫̼̀̔͒̏̾̇̔̄̓̾̉̿̓̃̑̅̾͜͜͠͝͠a̷̡͍̻̜̟̙͚̮̝̥̼͕̩͉͓͔̰͉͌̏̾̓̏̋͑̀̓͛͛͛̐̇̓͘͝͠n̷̡̡̢̡̧̛̯̖̣̱̰̰̳͎̦̯͔͈̗͙͕̻͕̤̠͓̳̰͖̟̩̥̮̝̥̪̼̯̈́̓̇̊̃̆͒̽̀̽͑̄̍̎͌̄̂̑̀̀͌̀͊̋͘͘͘͝͠͝ͅ ̴̢̨̧̨̢̡̧̨̢̡̖͕̜̠̣͕͔̝̝͉͕̬̖̮̲̫̜̠̼̞̬̺̳̼̬̘͚̝̖͇͉̣̦̲̰͖̎͒̒̎̽͐̿̎̐́̉̓̽̔́̓̀̚͜ͅĻ̴̧̛̗͇͙̫̺̘͎͔̳̾̇̌̎̎͊͛̂̑̈́͗͗̏̌̓́̑̄̋̔̐́͛̒͑͂̅̒͗̅̽͗͌̄͑̋͗͑̉̐̎̋̍̚̚̕͜͝͝á̵̡̨̧͔̠̘͖̦͈͍̳̗̺̪̩̗͍̩̟͉͇͍̖̺̜̩͔͖͈͇̖̠͇͛̒͂̓̏̅̿̋̄̃̈́̓̄̉́̄̕͘̚͘͝͝͝n̸̨̡͎̠͉̟̯̟͚͙̭̺͚͓̱̝̖͎̤̫̪͕͙͙̙̅̈̂̽̋́́̋̈̆͝ͅg̵̠̱̯̳̠̬̺̮̜̠̹̫͎̣̼̼̱̗͍͖͕͚̪̖̼͖͉̟̣̱̲̠̻͍̠̘̺͈̣̦͔̱̓̇̅̐̏̇̐̒͛̔́̑̋̌̌̈́̑͐̒̒̃̍̊̀̔̄̄́̋̅͘͘͝.̸̨̛̛͖͈̜͉̯̝̠͕̜͙̰̲͇̮̹̣̞̞͎͙̣̖͉̺̝̜̣͎͎͉̙̤̙̟̱̳̟̺͍͔̠͑̓̅̎̂̄̅̉͒͊̀͛̉̉͋̑͑̓̂̊͋͊̒̓̂̉͂́̃́͑̈́̅͆̐̌̓̾͘̕̕͘͜͠͝͝ ̵̨͎̹͖͔̳̲͉̯͇͙̜͍͕̝̝͖̝̗͍̻͍̞̟̩̦͇͇̗͙͕̪̳͓́̍̈́́́̈́̚͜͝ͅI̶̡̢̢̛̪̣̺͔̗̞͈̫͔͚͎͉̜̝̼͙̤̮͈͈͎͉͚͇̮̲̮̝̖͉̤̠̮͉̻͍͔͑͒͋̐̑̋̌̑́̌̾̑̈́̋̊̎̆̾̀̒̊̅̒̈̅̎͆́̕͘̕͝͝͠͝͝͠ͅͅ'̷̧̢̨̡̢̹̠͕̱͔͍̩̩̝̱͖̜͕͙̜̠͓̟̭̟͕͖͎̺̼̩̾̅̂͋̽̑̌͒̽͗̀̽́̈́̂̀̍̈́̽̋̒̃̌́̆̾̓͊̍̌͂͆̔̋͑̉̏̈́̾̓̽̕͘̕͜͜͝͠ͅͅm̴̛̛̛̛̻̗̥̣̖̦͓̤̪̣͙̃̎̈́̀̆̄̆̓͑̀̇̓̃̏͗̋̈͊̏͛̿̋͌̈̊̀͌̑̆̀̐̂͂̆͑̀͋̌̈́̚͜͝͠͠ ̸̛̛̻̥̠̬̤̤̳̠͋̀̂̎̊̋̋̉̓͗̈́̄͊̿̆͝s̷̡̧̨̡̢̛͈̻̤̻͉̬̲͖͖̹͔̠̙̝̖̘̟̏͊̑̽̅͛̊͑̅͘ͅǫ̶̢̯͓͚̞̯͍̺̞̙̪̗̲͓̤̪̭̣̙͉͇̭̙͇̥̠̫͚̪̣̗͚̜͎̘̮̹̳̪̫̥͉̌̐̚͜ ̶̢̘̮̠̙̙̘͖̣͚̰̗̺̖̮̹̟̦̜̖̹̣̼̼͓͈̀̏͜s̴̡̡̛̘̫͔̩͎̱͇̲̹̗̫̳̘̘̹̦̗̳̫͕̫̺̠͎̼̗̮͎̬̣̥̭̖̟̿̾̀̂̃͂͌̐͆̆̈́̍̀̾̾̔̾̀͘͘͜͝͠ó̴̧̡̼͖̭̟͎̜̠̬̝͍͉͍̟̻̥̠̟̻̣͉̪̜̞̞̫̝̳͔͎̫̫̰̱̖̤͗̆̿͌̓̓͘ͅŗ̷͚̝̱̗̲̘̝͓̯͍͈̔̿͗͑̀̌̔͗̑͛̊̎̎̋͊̆́̐̽̀̚̚͝͠͝͝r̷̨̢̡̢̢̨̫͉͇̪̪̹̭͔̗̪͈͇̻̻͖̲̙̮̺͉̯̯̘̬͓͖͇͕̥̯̻͖̦̜͎̮̰̙̮̹̼̾̌̈́́͒̒͆͋̽͌́̇͜͜͝͝ỳ̸̧̢̢̰̺̟͕̟͇͎͕͈͔̗͓͍̞͈̺͖̠̰̹̣̪̝̠̮͉̫̲̞̦̗͇̳̠̳̙͆̂̀ͅͅ.̶̳̘̦͇͔̫̆̿̒̄̈́̈̃̄̇́͌͒̅̕
⋆𓂃
Xie Lian sits there for days. He doesn't move. He doesn't eat. He doesn't sleep. He doesn't even clothe himself properly because a monster is undeserving of such things. He only moves when he makes up his mind on what he want to do.
He wants to die. It's laughably simple, if San Lang's reason for living was Xie Lian, then Xie Lian's reason was him. What point was there is still living, tainting the world with his presence, when he could just die? In Xie Lian's opinion, he was doing this goddamned awful and twisted world a favour.
He shrugged on his robes, they were torn and he looked fucking awful but he just didn't care. He ascended to Heaven, though it felt more like crawling his way up like a demon. He didn't deserve the title of 'god'. The only one deserving of that was Hua Cheng. The crowd of officials cleared when they saw him, they whispered, but their words fell past him like water a monster didn't need to understand such words.
He pushed the newly reconstructed palace of Divine Might's doors open with little courtesy, lower officials flinched away from his murderous aura. The new heavenly emperor, Pei Ming sat on the throne. It had been built closer to the ground this time, it still looked down on the audience, but created a feeling of somewhat equality. The general didn't like placing himself so above others.
That equality was gone now, Xie Lian's presence overpowered Pei Ming's like ink spilt on paper. Pei Ming frowned slightly, "Your highness, Xie Lian? What reasons do you have for visiting heaven? Is there something I can help you with?" Xie Lian lowered his gaze and knelt down, he kowtowed, and pressed his forehead to the floor, "My Lord. This lowly one wishes for you to strip me of my divinity."
Pei Ming gaped, "X-Xie Lian? Why would you ask me such a thing? I would never give you a shackle, much less take away your godhood! I could ne-" Xie Lian cut him off, his tone frigid, "Apologies, but I insist you take away my divinity."
Pei Ming argued, "And what if I don't?"
Xie Lian gave a mirthless and cold chuckle, it sent a shiver up Pei Ming's spine, "Then I will reap the three realms myself and kill anyone who stands in my way. You think 33 officials that Sa-...Then I'll show you what a former god of Disaster is really capable of. Trust me, 33 officials will seem like nothing. Do I make myself clear." It was less of a question and more of a promise. It left no room for further explanation and no room for any protest. But what nobody noticed? It was less of a threat, and more of a man begging for death. The emperor was forced to give in, and Xie Lian left heaven as a mortal, no shackles, no godhood, no San Lang with him.
Just a goal. One, simple goal.
Then he could see San Lang again.
⋆𓂃
He stepped into Puqi shrine. Dust had gathered on the table and kitchen counter. The painting of him still hung over the altar. Xie Lian took it down and folded it into his robes, he didn't want to see it, yet it was all he really had left of San Lang. His scraps in the corner still remained untouched, the entire building was just empty. More empty than he had ever seen it. Xie Lian took a deep breath, the building still smelled like incense, and if he really tried, he could almost smell a soft autumn breeze and the scent of bloody rain. He gazed at the red string on his finger, he had been so stupid to not realise that it snapping was him killing San Lang.
He kissed it gently, "San Lang, I'm so sorry, this one begs you to forgive me for the monster I've become," he whispers the words like worship, 'My brave Hong'er, my brave Wu Ming, my precious San Lang I-" his voice breaks and tears make their way down his cheeks again, "I-I'm so s-so sorry. You w-were so brave, you must've been so s-scared when I stepped o-on your a-ashes. You must h-hate me. I-I'm so sorry. Forgive me." He almost reaches for the ring to bring it to his lips, almost.
"Rouye. Come here." The silk band slithers over, Xie Lian holds out a hand, "You must do what I tell you, ok?" The band quivers softly. Xie Lian looks up, "Wrap around that beam." Rouye seems to sense what he intends to do, and tries to refuse. Xie Lian looks at it somewhat coldly, "Do it. Now... Please." The silk band is given no choice, and it wraps steadily around the roof foundations. He stands on a stool, "Now wrap into a loop around my neck, ok? And when I push this stool away, tighten. Make it slow." Rouye gives a pitiful sound that might've been a wail.
Xie Lian doesn't see what it's so sad about. He's a monster, and monsters are always killed by the end of the story he's always been the monster, never should the role have been given to Hua Cheng. The silk settles around his neck, and he pushes the stool away. It's suffocating, it's exhilarating, it's so painful. But Xie Lian isn't scared this time. Last time he tried, he had feared death. The beam had snapped, and he had been unable to die. Now, he's welcoming his punishment with open arms, because death means seeing San Lang again, this time, there's no beam snapping.
This time, there's no reason for him to hold onto his pitiful life.
He chokes, and his vision begins to blur. He blindly clutches onto the painting in his sleeve, the tears have stopped, at least, he thinks they have. Rouye fulfils it's master wishes, his death isn't quick, he drifts in and out consciousness, his mind begins to slow with his heartbeat. They say that when you die, you re-live the best seven minutes of your life. Xie Lian doesn't think he re-lives just seven minutes, nor does he think he just remembers the 'best' ones. He thinks re-lives every moment from 800 long years. It just serves to add to the agony and tragedy and love of the bad ones.
⋆𓂃
A late night spent with a young servant and bodyguard. Laughing and smiling as they made their way back to the castle after training.
The yelling of telling them both to leave, the betrayal, the wounds, the bonds snapped.
Snuggling with his mother as she caressed his head, his fathers proud gaze.
The bodies hanging from the roof.
Catching a boy as he fell of the city wall like a falling star.
An omen of bad luck and misfortune.
Comforting this boy as he clung to Xie Lian sobbing his grief
As if Xie Lian was so much better than him.
Drinks raised in his favour by soldiers.
A bloodbath the next day, young boys cut off early.
A young boy bringing a single white flower to his temple.
A boy, now a soldier, staying by his side to protect him.
That very boy, laying broken amidst land scorched by fire.
The relief of a sword stopping it's slaughter on his body.
The scream of a young ghost, the despair of not being able to save his god.
A ghost given the name Wu Ming serving Xie Lian.
The mask that still smiled, even when consumed by the souls of the dead. The mask Xie Lian wore slipping off in a moment of cowardice.
A night in a bridal sedan, a hand reaching to him beyond the curtain.
A youth by the name of San Lang helping his god repair the shrine Xie Lian is dying in at this moment.
Falling into a pit much like the past to be caught by strong arms.
A night together in a manor, being showed an armoury and a promise made.
A fire. So much like the one from back then.
3000 lantern released into the sky in Xie Lian's worship.
The shock both ghost and god felt when stuck in a coffin together.
A passionate kiss shared on an altar in a temple. A calligraphy lesson gone wonderfully wrong. The awkwardness of the next day.
The greedy want and the guilt that festered in Xie Lian's chest.
Teasing shared between them at the shrine, on the run while cradling his ghost in his arms.
A red string tied on both lovers fingers, an embrace of warmth an safety.
That very string now snapped, an embrace he would never feel again.
A moment of love, hands held while they jumped into the unknown.
The last time he would ever hold his San Lang's hands.
A kiss, energy flowing into his body, the gentle hold of his ghost as his shackles cracked and his powers returned.
The last kiss he would ever share with his San Lang.
⋆𓂃
Xie Lian is dying now, really dying. He chokes and gags, he forgot what it's like to need air. He forces himself to stop breathing, he forces himself to go still. And then, he smiles. A wide smile, a bright smile. The first real smile in two torturous years of pain. Xie Lian has always wanted to die with a smile on his face. Before, it had been a prideful thought; to smile in the face of death, heart in paradise, body in abyss, a foolish thought of his younger years. Now, he smiles because death is what he longs for, because death is what will allow him to see his San lang once more, because death may allow him to repent for his awful sins.
The former god. Scrap Immortal. God of Misfortune. The Prince who Pleased the Gods. The lover of Crimson Rain Sought Flower. A monster. A coward. A murderer. He's not afraid of death. He's not afraid because there's no longer a reason to live. He's not afraid because he knows who wait for him beyond death. He's not because he knows that people like He Xuan and Mu Qing will be smart enough to figure out what he did. He knows that they'll know how he sinned. Xie Lian can only hope the portray him as the monster in the story of their lives.
The former prince of Xianle dies with four, choked and broken words on his sinful lips,
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
"S-see y-y-you soon...S-San Lang."