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Xie Lian had only returned to the heavens a handful of times since his third ascension. He wasn’t avoiding the other officials exactly, but well- frankly this whole ascension thing had been a bit…inconvenient. It didn’t help that even though a lot had changed in the last 800 years, the other officials were either overly skittish or wholly disinterested in him. As he had expected, even Feng Xin and Mu Qing were distant and ice-cold, and the words died on his tongue every time he thought to approach them. The gulf between them seemed impossibly vast - they had known each other for over a decade, but they had not known each other for hundreds of years. It was probably better for everyone involved if he just kept his distance. And so all of the wonderful things that had happened since they had met last, chief of which was meeting his now husband, he kept to himself. 

He wasn’t even quite sure why he had been summoned to the heavens this time- all he knew was that every major official was gathered in the Palace of Divine Might. The other officials were clumped together in small groups, pairs or trios, casually chatting amongst themselves. Xie Lian stood half behind a column and tried to be as inconspicuous as possible. 

It turns out they had gathered to plan the heavenly celebration of the Lunar New Year. Every year it was a grand affair, but this year was the milllineal anniversary of the holiday. According to Ling Wen, the event was going to be unlike any other the heavens had ever seen, glorious beyond compare. And as such, the heavenly emperor was kindly asking each official to donate a sum of merits to support the event. Xie Lian wondered when the heavenly treasury had come to such dire straights.  With a flash of her sleeve, a gilded donation box appeared on the pedestal beside Ling Wen. The heavenly emperor was the first to set an example, of course, and donated hundreds of thousand of merits. The other high ranking officials made their way up one at a time, each donating outrageous sums. The current Wind Master, a spirited looking young man with elaborate white and teal robes, donated two hundred thousand with a cheeky wink to Ling Wen. Xie Lian watched as each and every god easily donated thousands and thousands of merits, his stomach sinking to the floor with each addition.  There seemed to be a pause, and several gods awkwardly cleared their throats. Thats when he noticed they were all glancing at him! With a quiet sigh, he swallowed his pride and approached the donation box. Most of his believers couldn’t donate merits, per se, but the wealthy merchants near Puqi Village had donated some, at least. With a shy smile, he added a dozen merits to the box. As he walked back to his place, he briefly glanced up, only to find Feng Xin and Mu Qing openly staring at him. Feng Xin with barely disguised pity, Mu Qing with either embarrassment or disdain, it was difficult to tell with him. Xie Lian gave them a small smile, and they both hurriedly looked away. 

When he descended back to the mortal realm, he plopped down on the stairs of the shrine with a huff. 

“Gege? Is everything alright?” Hua Cheng asked as he sauntered through the doorway. He had his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and his forearms were dusted with flour. He must have been preparing dinner. He sat down beside Xie Lian and kissed him softly. “Do I need to go up there and-“

“No, no, ” Xie Lian cut in, “Nothing’s wrong, really. They were just announcing the celebration for the millennial New Year. They, uh…asked for merit donations.” 

Hua Cheng understood in an instant. He usually did.  “And did you tell those imbeciles that you probably have more followers than any of them?” 

Xie Lian chuckled. “I don’t think they count ghosts, San Lang.”

Hua Cheng leaned back, tossing the length of his hair over one shoulder. “That’s their problem. Don’t worry about them, gege. That whole thing has nothing to do with you, anyways.”

Xie Lian was silent for a moment too long.

Hua Cheng sighed. “They actually expect you to attend, I take it?” 

Xie Lian nodded, chagrined. If he could avoid it completely, he would. While part of him was quite curious to see what would undoubtedly be the most lavish display ever put on by the heavens, that curiosity was smothered by the prospect of standing alone in a sea of officials who wanted absolutely nothing to do with him. If he even had a few acquaintances he could talk to, that would make it bearable. But the handful of officials he was even on speaking terms with weren’t exactly the mingling type. He briefly thought back to the Lunar New Year’s festival in Xianle. Fuzzy but fond memories of elaborate costumes, of eating tanghulu on one of the imperial balconies. Feng Xin and Mu Qing had always accompanied him. Feng Xin would get into screaming matches with vendors for rigging the carnival games, and Mu Qing would just stand off to the side and glare at the crowds of drunk revelers bumbling through the streets. His heart burned.

Hua Cheng eyed him knowingly. “Gege’s nervous about attending, I take it?”

“A bit.” Xie Lian murmured.

Hua Cheng looked thoughtful for a moment. “What if I joined you. Would that help?”

Xie Lian’s eyes lit up instantly, then dimmed just as quickly. “San Lang, I would love that but…wouldn’t it be a little ah…obvious if a supreme ghost king was in attendence?

Hua Cheng shrugged. “I can wear a disguise. It’s not like any of them know what I actually look like, anyway. “

Xie Lian scratched the back of his neck. “That may be, but your aura is a little…strong.” When Hua Cheng pouted, Xie Lian quickly amended, “Don’t get me wrong, I…I like it! My husband is very powerful. But it’s a bit obvious you aren’t exactly human.”

Hu Cheng nodded reluctantly before jumping to his feet. “Gege’s right as always. I’ll be right back.”

Without another word, he tossed a pair of crimson die and stepped through the door of the shrine. Less than two minutes later, he stepped back through, a curious smile on his face. He hopped off of the porch and did a dramatic twirl. “Well, gege?” He asked,“How about now?”

Xie Lian was stunned. It was remarkable! The killing intent that usually rolled off of him in waves was gone completely. “That’s amazing! How did you do that?”

Hua Cheng flashed him a grin and fished out a pendant from beneath his tunic. “Just an old relic I found ages ago. They say it was carved from the eye of a blind forest spirit. Or some bullshit like that. Regardless, it has the very convenient property of completely masking ghost qi. Neat, huh?”

Xie Lian laughed, “You truly do have everything, don’t you?” Then a possible problem occurred to him, “Who would we say you are? It’s not like mortals can attend heavenly festivals.”

It seemed Hua Cheng had already thought of this. “I’m your newly appointed deputy official in the Middle Court, naturally.”

Xie Lian chuckled and then thought seriously for a moment, considering. “You’re sure you wouldn’t mind tagging along?”

Hua Cheng sighed dramatically and grasped both of his hands. “I must admit, I’m not particularly looking forward to celebrating the New Year with them. But I am looking forward to celebrating it with you. It’s a price I’m more than willing to pay.” 

Heart squeezing, Xie Lian pressed a kiss to the hands holding his. “Thank you, San Lang.”

Hua Cheng smiled. “Does this mean gege will finally let me buy him some new robes?” Hua Cheng had been desperately trying to gift him an elaborate wardrobe for several decades now, but Xie Lian had insisted his plain white robes were more than sufficient. It was a battle he knew he would lose eventually.

“I’m sure that these are fine-“

“Ah ah ah, gege, think about it. All of the officials will be wearing their best for the celebration, no? If you arrive in your everyday clothing, won’t they all see it as an intentional slight?”

Xie Lian hadn’t considered that, but he was also wary of Hua Cheng’s true motivations. 

“I suppose…”

Hua Cheng crouched to the ground and crossed his arms over Xie Lians knees. He blinked up at him prettily and gave him his most charming smile. Which was, admittedly, lethally charming. “Just let me take care of it, alright?”

Xie Lian knew defeat when he saw it. “Alright. But nothing too ostentatious.”

“Of course not, gege.”

And with that, Hua Cheng scooped him into his arms and carried him into the shrine.

///

A month passed in a blur, and suddenly the Lunar New Year was upon them. In all honesty, Xie Lian had thought about it very little in the interim, but now his nerves were returning in waves. They would need to ascend soon, and Hua Cheng had yet to return from his errands. That didn’t bode well for the…simplicity of Xie Lian’s garments. 

After another incense time Hua Cheng came sauntering into the shrine with a black garment bag thrown over his shoulder. “Apologies, gege. A few last minute alterations.” Embarrassingly, Xie Lian found he was even nervous to put on the robes- he hadn’t worn anything even a little ornamental since his first ascension. It felt almost like he was trying to squeeze into his old skin, one that surely didn’t fit any longer. 

But Hua Cheng looked downright giddy, which helped quell his nerves. Hua Cheng threw a blanket over the polished copper mirror and gestured to Xie Lian’s clothing.  “May I?”

Xie Lian nodded, a slight blush coloring his cheeks. Hua Cheng noticed, because of course he did, and smiled softly. He removed Xie Lians robes in the way he typically did- with the utmost reverence and care. But once he had him stripped down to his thin inner robes, his hands began to wander. His fingers ghosted along his neck, down the opening of his robes, sliding against the sensitive skin of his stomach.

“Gege,” he whispered, pressing his face into the flesh where his neck met his shoulder. He began to mouth at him softly, his lips unbearably hot. “Are you sure we have to go?”

Heat blossomed in Xie Lian’s gut, but, tragically, he had always been the more responsible one of the pair.  “Yes, San Lang.” He said, a bit breathily. 

With a sigh, Hua Cheng bit his shoulder playfully.“Later, then.”

Hua Cheng returned to his task in earnest then and peeled him out of his remaining clothes. “Close your eyes, gege.”

Xie Lian obeyed and lifted his arms to allow Hua Cheng to dress him. He could hear the soft rush of shifting silk, and the fabric felt buttery soft against his skin. After a seemingly infinite number of layers, Hua Cheng stepped back to examine him, adjusting this and that. He touched his hair lightly. “May I?”

Xie Lian nodded, and in a few moments Hua Cheng was running a comb through his hair, his fingers brushing tenderly against his scalp. Xie Lian wasn’t quite sure what he was doing- it was more than his typical half bun, but it didn’t seem to be overly elaborate, either. He heard a gentle metallic chime before a pair of earrings were gently placed in either ear. He felt Hua Cheng step back again. 

Hua Cheng brushed his cheek lightly with a single fingertip. “My husband needs no ornamentation to outshine the entire heavens. But I believe a bit of cosmetics would be suitable for such an event. What do you think?”

Xie Lian smiled at the praise, “Whatever you think is best.”

Hua Cheng hummed and began rifling through something behind him. Then a brush was ghosting along the corner of each eye, beneath his lower lash line. Something feather soft brushed against his cheeks, and the pad of Hua Cheng’s finger dotted lightly against the inner flesh of his lips. Another pause, and then Hua Cheng painted one final line between his brows. 

Hua Cheng stepped away from him, assessing, and let out a soft breath. Or maybe it was a whimper. Xie Lian heard the blanket covering the mirror fall to the floor, and Hua Cheng laid a gentle hand on his waist. “Open your eyes, Your Highness.”

He-

He was-

Breathtaking.

His inner tunic was a rich, warm coral, shrouded in a white robe with draped, elegant sleeves. The white silk was so brilliantly pure it seemed to shimmer, and that’s when Xie Lian realized the entire surface had been embroidered in pale silver thread. He could just make out a field of lilies tangled together across the expanse of the fabric, flickering in an out of the luminous silk. Hua Cheng had pulled half of his hair into a chignon, while the rest he had loosely braided over one shoulder. The cosmetics were sparing but somehow still striking. He wasn’t quite sure what Hua Cheng had done, but his skin looked pearlescent, his lips pink and fresh-bitten. He had added more daring touches as well, a line of vermillion under each lash line and an intricately painted huadian between his brows. 

The accessories were perhaps the farthest departure from his usual attire. He eyed the teal sash with a pink quartz token, the long, draping earrings with bright garnets and blushing seed pearls. But the chief among them was a fine silver hair pin tucked into the back of his hair. The silver pin was thin but softly twisted, like a new stem on a tree branch, and from its end dripped a flurry of white flowers. Each flower had been carved from mother-of-pearl, and in the soft light of the shrine, the petals flickered brilliant white, then pink, then golden. It was incomparably beautiful.  

He had expected to see a tainted mirror of his younger self, but what he found was someone…different. Someone new. Xie Lian touched his cheek gently, trembling.

“San Lang…” he whispered. “I… don’t know what to say.”

Hua Cheng wrapped his arms around his waist tightly, propping his chin on his shoulder. His eyes shimmered before he turned his face to Xie Lian’s neck, breath warm against his skin. “His Highness truly has no equal.” 

Xie Lian’s not sure how long he stood there, fixated upon the figure in the mirror. But eventually he began to think he was being quite ridiculous, standing there practically preening at himself. They were just robes, after all!

Xie Lian gently turned to face him. “Thank you, San Lang. Truly.” And then a realization struck him, and he flushed with shame. 

“San Lang! I should have picked out some for you as well! I didn’t think- I wouldn’t even know what to-“

“Gege,” Hua Cheng interrupted, grasping his shoulders, “There is no need.”

With a flick of his wrist, his appearance transformed, and in his place stood a younger man in white and red robes. They were embellished enough to be festive, but the simplicity clearly marked him as a deputy official. 

Xie Lian smiled, but it quickly turned to a grimace. 

“Gege doesn’t like it?” Hua Cheng asked, just barely tinged with hurt. 

“Of course I do!” Xie Lian reassured him in a rush, “San Lang looks handsome as always. It’s just…” He trailed off, eyes fixed on his robes. 

Hua Cheng thought for a moment. “Ah. The red?”

Xie Lian nodded.

Hua Cheng laughed, “Gege is wise, as always.” He snapped his fingers, and his outfit transformed into robes of ebony silk. The fitted black robes were overlaid by a high collared black tunic, the neckline deep enough to reveal a generous swath of his collarbones. The hems were lined in silver, and fine silver chains were linked across his shoulders and along the tops of his boots, jingling with every movement. 

Xie Lian nodded in delight. “Perfect!” But once again, his smile faded.

Hua Cheng laughed, “Gege has another suggestion?”

Xie Lian looked away, a bit embarrassed, “Just a silly whim. I…I would very much like to spend the evening looking at my husband’s face. His real face, I mean. But you don’t have too, I mean it! I don’t want to put you at risk or make you uncomfortable.”

Hua Cheng seemed surprised by this at first, and more than a little hesitant, but soon his face shifted into an utterly fond smile. “As Gege wishes.” 

The black robes shifted and stretched as his form expanded, pulling pleasingly taut against his chest. Xie Lian found it more than a little distracting. Hua Cheng glanced at himself in the mirror, adjusting his belt. He stilled for a moment, and then turned back to Xie Lian.

“Gege, one small suggestion?” With a shimmer, his eyepatch faded away, revealing a shining black eye.

“My… sight is well known to the heavens. Best to be cautious.”

It was perfectly sensible, though Xie Lian could see the twinge of insecurity behind it. But he didn’t want to pressure him, so he gave him a warm smile. “Best to be cautious. Thank you, San Lang.”

He looked at the pair of them in the mirror, and they really did look quite fetching. While Xie Lian looked like the picture of imperial elegance, Hua Cheng seemed a handsome servant, though admittedly his unbound hair gave him a bit of a rakish air. Xie Lian had a special fondness for it, in all honesty, but…

“San Lang, can I do your hair? Just a little! Just to blend in with the other officials.”

Xie Lian was a bit worried he would resist, but Hua Cheng merely shrugged his shoulders. “Gege can of course do whatever he likes.”

Xie moved behind him and brushed his fingers through his hair. He pulled the top half of his hair into a loose ponytail at the base of his neck. He tucked in the end of his braid and secured it with Ruoye, tying it into an artful bow. He nodded in satisfaction. “There. Ah, we really should be going, but San Lang-“ he took both of his hands in his own, “Thank you. For being so…gracious, in all of this. San Lang is going through so much trouble, and I haven’t given him anything in return. “

“Gege, you know there is no need-“

Xie Lian silenced him with a finger against his lips. He stepped closed, until they were just inches apart. His voice was lower than usual, honeyed. “San Lang is worthy of praise. And his husband will see to it that he is rewarded properly later.” 

“Now then!” With a bright grin, Xie Lian linked their arms together and pulled him along.

“G-Gege, you can’t just say things like that-!”

///

As they walked down the Avenue of Divine Might, Xie Lian couldn’t help but gasp. Ling Wen had promised it would be a celebration unlike any other, and she had certainly kept her word. The entire capital was gilded in shimmering golden light, crimson red lanterns hung from every eve, and fat golden coins littered the pavement like confetti. The air was rich with the combined scent of lavish feasts and seductive jasmine, enough to make one’s head spin. Most spectacularly of all, enchantments had been placed high in the night sky, making it seem as if the stars were coallescing into celestial animal forms and walking amongst the clouds. 

“Isn’t it incredible?” Xie Lian asked, breathless.

Hua Cheng huffed, but seemed to feel a bit guilty. “I’m glad gege is enjoying it.”

As they walked deeper into the capital, they found that every single side street and corridor was filled with a different kind of splendor. Vendors selling fine jewelry and hairpins, brewmasters offering cups of their finest wine, rare pelts of spiritual beasts- it was an endless parade of heavenly frivolity. Xie Lian smiled in delight at the start of a lively chorus of guqin, and turned to follow the sound. A dozen musicians, each dressed in brilliant crimson robes, sat in a semicircle around an elaborate fountain. The melody was hypnotically intricate, every tone sonorous, but most spectacularly of all, the water in the fountain shifted colors with every note, shimmering a myriad of colors in a perfect rhythm. Dozens of heavenly officials were crowded around to see, jostling one another to get a better view. So when Xie Lian felt someone behind him, he didn’t think much of it. That is, until he felt someone gently touch the tip of his hairpin. 

“Look, look! Ming-xiong, you aren’t looking! Have you ever seen something so gorgeous?”

With a start, Xie Lian turned to find a beautiful young woman standing quite close behind him, pointer finger extended. She was sumptuously dressed in a rather…revealing set of peach robes, her makeup immaculately done. He wasn’t quite sure who “Ming-xiong” was, but they were nowhere to be found.

“Oh!” The woman squeaked, shying back slightly. “Sorry! I didn’t mean to frighten you! I was just admiring! It’s beautiful, where did you find it?”

Xie Lian could feel Hua Cheng puff up beside him, and nearly giggled. “Oh, um, thank you! I’m not quite sure, actually. It was a gift.”

Hua Cheng bowed slightly, perfectly respectful.  “I’m afraid it’s one of a kind, Lady Wind Master.”

Xie Lian gasped, “Lady Wind Master?!” He had seen the Wind Master not long ago, and he was fairly certain he’d been a young man! But there was no way Hua Cheng was mistaken. 

“Your Highness! See, now we’re properly introduced. Except, who’s this?” she asked, nodding to Hua Cheng. 

This was their first test, and Xie Lian couldn’t help but feel a bit nervous. “This is San Lang, I just appointed him as a deputy official.” 

The Wind Master didn’t seem suspicious in the slightest. “Nice to meet you both! Your Highness, I’ve tried to introduce myself before, but it seems you’re never in the heavens! Are they working you that hard?”

Xie Lian was a bit stunned- another official actually wanted to meet him? “Me? But…but why?” 

The Wind Master rolled her eyes good naturedly, lashes fluttering. “Oh come on, you’re basically famous! I mean, no one else has ever ascended three times!”

Xie Lian was quite sure no one else had ever been banished twice before, either, but he kept that to himself. 

“I bet you have loads of interesting stories! Come on!” She linked her arm in his and began pulling him down the street. Hua Cheng’s eyes narrowed for a moment, but in the end he said nothing and settled for following close behind. The Wind Master prattled nonstop as they walked, not even leaving Xie Lian room to find out where exactly she was taking him. She talked about anything and everything- apparently her brother had donated the coins that littered the streets, the sum of it more than enough to fill an imperial treasury. Yushi Huang had donated an entire harvest’s worth of the finest produce, but she refused to actually attend herself. Xie Lian was usually not one to gossip, but he found himself quite intrigued by the Wind Master’s seemingly endless fount of information. However, it was terribly strange, he couldn’t quite shake the feeling that someone was following him. Besides Hua Cheng, that is. He glanced over his shoulder a few times, but saw nothing suspicious. He tried his best to ignore it, but it creeped under his skin like an itch.

She led them to a white limestone terrace overlooking the east end of the capital. It was absolutely enchanting- glowing lanterns floated in mid air above long tables lined with golden incense burners. The smoke rolled into the air in gentle patterns, suffusing the entire area with a sweet scent. A man in black leaned over the edge of the balcony, surveying the entire affair with visible contempt. 

“Ming-xiong! There you are! Look, I made another friend!”

The man looked up. His features were sharply handsome, though he had a lingering gauntness about him. He looked rather familiar. “That implies you have other friends.”  He drawled.

Xie Lian slyly pressed his fingers to his temple. Is that…?

That’s right, gege. Best leave it alone.

“Oh, hush, you!” The Wind Master scolded, smacking him with her fan, “If you keep being mean to me, I won’t let you have any of the wine I donated! It’s a 300 year old vintage, saved just for this!” She waved her hand and an attendant seemed to appear out of thin air. He hurried over with a tray set with gilded wine cups. 

Threat already forgotten, she handed a cup to the “Earth Master” before offering a cup to Xie Lian. 

“His Highness doesn’t drink.” A familiar voice snapped. 

Xie Lian turned with a start, only to find Feng Xin and Mu Qing standing right behind him. 

They had both put on slightly finer armor for the occasion, though it could hardly be called festive. They didn’t seem particularly interested in any of the holiday splendor, anyways- instead, their gazes were firmly fixed on Hua Cheng.

A wave of panic rolled through Xie Lian. Had they already been found out? They hadn’t even been in the heavens for half an hour! Xie Lian sensed around Hua Cheng again, and he still couldn’t detect an ounce of evil qi. His mind spun, thoughts racing. Maybe…maybe they didn’t actually know it was Hua Cheng. Maybe they were merely suspicious of a stranger attending to Xie Lian so closely after he had been on his own for so long. They had always said he was far too gullible. It warmed his heart, in an odd sort of way.

“Who’s this?” Mu Qing asked in lieu of a greeting, eyes still fixed on Hua Cheng. 

Xie Lian swallowed. “Oh, this is San Lang. I just appointed him.” 

Feng Xin’s brows furrowed. He was well aware Xie Lian had never appointed any other deputy officials besides the two of them. Not that he had had much of a chance to, after his first ascension. 

Hua Cheng gave them his trademark fake smile and inclined his head, a bit too shallow to be sufficiently respectful. 

Mu Qing’s scowl deepened, but he said nothing. Feeling awkward, Xie Lian turned back to the Wind Master and graciously accepted the cup. “It’s a holiday after all,” he said, laughing softly, and taking a small sip. It really was quite good, if strong. “May I?” He asked, looking to Hua Cheng.

“Oh, of course, the more the merrier!” She said, passing him another cup. He offered it to Hua Cheng, who accepted it with an overly deep bow.  Feng Xin and Mu Qing gave Xie Lian an odd look. This sort of divine luxury was implicitly reserved for officials of the Upper court, and Xie Lian had just offered it to his servant! Xie Lian counted it as a point in the Wind Master’s favor that the thought had never crossed her mind.

Hua Cheng, true to form, downed the small cup in a single gulp. 

“A man after my own heart!” The Wind Master cried in delight. She began chattering away again, but it fell on deaf ears. Feng Xin and Mu Qing were still fixated on Hua Cheng. It was getting a bit alarming. Xie Lian took another small sip of wine and cleared his throat awkwardly. “Happy New Year, General Nan Yang, General Xuan Zhen.” Calling them by their proper titles tasted sour on his tongue. 

Feng Xin grimanced. “Happy New Year, Your Highness. Now, where exactly did you meet this…San Lang.” 

Xie Lian’s heart jumped. They hadn’t rehearsed that part! But luckily, Hua Cheng’s tongue was quick as ever.

“I met His Highness while I was travelling. He saved this lowly one from certain death. I have followed him ever since.” Though a bit out of order, it was sort of true, Xie Lian supposed. 

Mu Qing seemed unconvinced, but his questioning was interrupted by the sound of a ringing gong. The Wind Master squealed in delight, “The games are starting! Come on, come on! Ming-xiong, you promised-!”

Indeed, the Western gate of the Heavenly Capital suddenly shone with bright torchlight, a clear invitation. The Wind Master hooked her arm through the “Earth Master’s” and tugged him along. Much to his surprise, she caught Xie Lian’s in the other, and both were pulled along helplessly. Hua Cheng, Mu Qing, and Feng Xin were left staring at one another. Without a word, they turned to follow at the prince’s heels. 

The long avenue behind the western gate was dotted with carnival games, each more fantastical than the last. There was a ferocious game of jianzi being played with the flaming core of a volcano spirit, while next door a group of civil gods were playing elaborate games of checkers with a dozen floating boards a piece. But the rowdiest booths were the ones offering elaborate prizes. Some were more cerebral, like guessing how many grains of sand were within a 5 meter tall hour glass, while others were grand, daring challenges of godly aptitude. Feng Xin and Mu Qing paused at one of these and looked to each other solemnly. They seemed to be weighing if this was a worthy distraction from figuring out what was going on with Xie Lian’s new deputy. Well, it was a holiday after all.

“Same bet as last year?” Feng Xin asked. 

Mu Qing nodded. “Fine. But I’m going first this time.” Intrigued, the rest of the group trailed after them silently as the pair approached a Middle Court official attending a tall, domed hutch. The official quickly covered up a flash of terror with an overly polite bow. 

“G-Generals! Would you like to play?” 

Mu Qing rolled his eyes and extended his hand. “Just give me the bow, already.”

The ttendant jumped, face flushing, and pulled out a long, slender bow. “Yes, sir! But, ah- just a warning! After the…illustrious performance last year, we were instructed to make the game more challenging. Before, you had to bring down a vermillion pheonix. This year, we instead have a flock of golden pheasants from the peak of Mount Yewu. Each of the pheasants is wearing a golden coin around its neck. To win a prize, you must down a pheasant by shooting an arrow through the center of the golden coin in 30 seconds.”

Mu Qing scoffed and took the bow. “I’ll do it in ten. How hard could it possibly be?” 

It turns out it could be very hard indeed. Mount Yewu was host to a peculialry strong fount of spiritual energy, and the pheasants had slowly been infused with its properties since birth. When the hutch doors sprang open, a dozen golden streaks shot through the air like lightning. They zipped back and forth against the dark night sky, leaving trails of sparkling fireworks in their wake. Shooting one down would be an extraordinary show of skill worthy of praise by the Heavenly Emperor himself - shooting one through the eye of a coin was all but impossible! Mu Qing seemed to realize his error immediately, but true to form, said nothing and only gritted his teeth in concentration. He fired one shot, but it missed the bird completely. He fired another, and while it clipped the edge of a sparkling wing, it was way off the mark. Far too soon, a bell jingled on the top of the hutch, signaling that time was up. The hutch doors swung open again, and the pheasants were sucked back inside.

Fuming, Mu Qing threw the bow on the ground. “This thing’s a piece of shit.” Xie Lian mentally shook his head. Feng Xin’s language had really rubbed off on him.

Feng Xin of course, found this endlessly amusing. “How embarrassing!” He laughed, picking up the bow. “I dont know why you keep challenging me in archery, you idiot. Let me show you how it’s done.” He nodded to the attendant. 

Though Feng Xin was undoubtedly a talented archer, arguably the best in the heavens, this task proved to be far too inhumane. Again, the birds darted around ceaslessly at blinding speeds, throwing up flashes of sparks as they rushed past one another. Feng Xin loosed one arrow, which pierced through the wing of a particularly large pheasant. Though it did fall, the requirements hadn’t been met, so Feng Xin released another arrow, this one missing its mark by only a few centimeters. But just like before, a small bell tolled and the pheasants were pulled back to whence they came. 

Trying to hide his humiliation, Feng Xin glared at the bow in his hands before handing it back to the attendant. “It really is a piece of shit. You should get that fixed.”

Everyone was on edge, terrified of saying something that would aggravate the Generals’ wounded pride. The Wind Master began to titter nervously. 

“Ha ha ha…Wow, generals, good effort! Ha ha ha, that certainly seems challenging!”

“Gege, why don’t you give it a try?” Hua Cheng suddenly suggested. 

Mu Qing resurfaced from wallowing in his shame. “What did you just call him?!”

Xie Lian raised his brows, but ignored Mu Qing. “Oh, no, I couldn’t possibly-“ and then he realized what Hua Cheng was really after. Well, he was doing him a favor, after all…maybe he could give his husband a little face. He smiled at him warmly. “But San Lang should try.”

Hua Cheng smiled mildly, but his eyes were glittering in anticipation. “Sure, why not?”

He sauntered over to the attendant and took the bow in his hand. He gave the string a gentle pluck, looking thoroughly unimpressed. 

Feng Xin seemed particularly offended by the mere suggestion that a deputy official could succeed where he had failed so spectacularly.  “Were actual martial gods, you know that right?! You can’t possibly think that you-“

The doors flew open with a bang. The birds seemed especially erratic after so much harassment, it was dizzying to try to even keep up with a single one of them. 

Hua Chung blinked up at them lazily. With an easy air, he raised the bow and readied an arrow against his cheek. It shot forth at a blinding speed, and there was a sharp shing as the arrowhead collided with something metal. There was a panicked squawk, and a plump pheasant plopped to the ground at their feet, an arrow nestled snugly through the center of the coin at its throat.

Hua Cheng gave a noncommittal hum, and without a word raised the bow again, eyes scanning the glittering display. He loosed another arrow, and this time the squawk was louder than before- this time a pair of pheasants fell, skewered together along the single arrow. The bell tolled again, and he returned the bow to the attendant. “Hm. It really is a piece of shit.” 

The attendant ignored the comment and clapped his hands in admiration. Xie Lian couldn’t help but echo his enthusiasm. “Well done!”

The rest of the group was stunned into silence. Feng Xin and Mu Qing were visibly twitching with a rancid combination of shame, anger, and suspicion, whereas the Wind Master seemed to be genuinely impressed. “Ming Yi” only rolled his eyes. 

“Y-you!” Mu Qing sputtered, but he couldn’t quite manage anything else. It’s not like he was about to verbally acknowledge that this deputy official had just bested him. Feng Xin didn’t fair much better - his face was beet-red, and was hissing an unintelligible stream of curses. “You fucking fuck - how the shitting fuck did- how- you?!”

Hua Cheng’s lips upturned just a tad, a hint of the smirk Xie Lian knew so well. He turned to the attendant, brow raised. “Since I shot three, does that mean I get three prizes?”

The attendant had clearly never been faced with such a predicament. He also still seemed to be a bit starstruck. “Uh- ah, yes, I suppose so?” He gestured to a tall wooden shelf propped against the hutch. “Please choose what you like- we have an extremely fine selection, as you’ll see!”

Hua Cheng approached the shelf, eyes critical. There truly was a spectacular array of prizes, but Hua Cheng seemed to be sorting through them like scraps of junk. He inspected an embroidered handkerchief, and after a moment’s consideration, tossed it aside as if it had personally offended him. He proceeded to do the same to a hair pin, a dagger, and a particularly tacky pair of boots.  After a few moments, he found a long string of rose colored beads with gleaming silver clarity bell. Hua Cheng held the beads up into the lantern light, carefully assessing. Xie Lian had never quite lost his unerring eye for finery, and he could tell the necklace was exquisitely crafted. 

With a satisfied nod, Hua Cheng turned and bowed before Xie Lian. “Your Highness.” His voice held the same devoted tenderness Xie Lian had come to expect, but it suddenly felt horrifyingly intimate with so many eyes watching. He held up the necklace, hovering it just above Xie Lian’s head. “May I?”

Xie Lian nearly rolled his eyes- of course Hua Cheng would still insist on spoiling him. But if he thought about it, wasn’t it perfectly normal for a junior to honor his superior with a token of appreciation on a holiday? Perhaps it wasn’t so odd after all. “Thank you, San Lang. It’s beautiful.”

Hua Cheng settled the necklace over his head. Then, ever so tenderly, he swept his fingers along his neck and pulled his hair out from beneath the beads, settling every strand back into place. Xie Lian pointedly ignored Feng Xin and Mu Qing frantically whispering to one another.

Hua Cheng’s gaze was far too fond for a normal attendant, but the rest of his expression was perfectly polite. “It suits gege.” 

Hua Cheng turned on his heel and strode over to the shelf again, but this time his eyes quickly snagged on something along the top rack. 

He returned to Xie Lian and extended an ebony ink brush set in a laquered case.

“San Lang,” Xie Lian scolded, “you’re supposed to pick out prizes for yourself!”

“But it pleases me to gift such things to His Highness.”

Xie Lian tutted, “That may be, but I insist, at least pick out one thing for yourself.”

Hua Cheng frowned petulantly. “I’m afraid I wouldn’t know where to begin. Why doesn’t gege choose for me?”

Feng Xin scoffed loudly, but Xie Lian decided to do just that. He approached the shelf appraising, finger to his lips. Hua Cheng had extremely shrewd taste, he knew, and he really did want to give him something he would like. Eventually, he settled on a woven silver belt. The silver was a bit on the nose, but Xie Lian couldn’t resist.

“What about this, San Lang?” He asked, holding up the belt.

Hua Cheng smiled and bowed his head. “His Highness has excellent taste,” He praised. “Would you help me put it on? I wouldn’t want His Highness to think me ungrateful.”

That was certainly a bit…familiar, for an attendant. But Xie Lian was just helping him put on a gift he had received, surely that wasn’t so bad? Hua Cheng stepped closer to him.

Xie Lian tied the silver belt around his slim waist and pulled it taught. “Is this tight enough?” He asked, hands resting lightly on his hip bones.

“A bit tighter, gege.”

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Mu Qing muttered behind them.

Xie Lian flushed in embarrassment. He quickly tightened the sash and stepped away, clearing his throat. “Why don’t we play another game? Right, Lady Wind Master?”

The Wind Master was thrilled with her new ally. “Very right, Your Highness! Generals, stop being such bad sports! Now, Ming-xiong, come on!”

“No.”

“Yes,”The Wind Master urged, attempting to push the man in black back towards the bustling street. She wasn’t particularly successful. Eventually she gave up with a huff. “Fine! You can pick the game, whichever you want!” 

He turned to her slowly, brow arched. “Whichever I want?”

The group had never formally agreed to spend the evening together, but well, here they were. Feng Xin and Mu Qing could have departed at any moment, but their suspicion of Hua Cheng only grew more crazed by the minute. They seemed loathe to let Xie Lian out of their sight now that there was an intruder in their midst. Xie Lian wasn’t sure if he should be honored or offended.

///

 “Ming Yi” led them through the crowds to a small courtyard. The courtyard was far rowdier than any of the others, and it didn’t take long to figure out why. One side of the courtyard was lined with a long standing table positively laden with drinks of every kind. Pairs of partygoers on either side took turns drinking cups of liquor, antagonizing each other back and forth until one of them eventually slumped to the table. A ring of spectators stood around cheering wildly and clapping the winners on the back. The other side of the courtyard was similar but had a different…flavor, one could say. Rather than booze, the competitors were eating impossible quantities of rich food until one of them begged for mercy or ducked inside the medical tent. Ming Yi meandered towards the latter table, cracking his knuckles. Xie Lian truly pitied his opponents.

From the boozier side of the courtyard, they suddenly heard a loud, deep laugh, “Come now, Tai Hua, you can’t be done already?”

Though Xie Lian wasn’t personally acquainted with Pei Ming, he was the sort whose reputation preceded him. Tonight, his rugged, oppressive sort of handsomeness was set off by a set of gold and navy armor, the metal polished so brightly it was nearly painful to look at. He was leaning over a slumped official slowly sliding off of his stool. 

He caught sight of them, then, and his gaze settled heavy on Xie Lian. He rose from the table and strutted - there was no other word for it - towards them. The poor little drunk official slumped to the ground with a thud. Pei Ming didn’t notice in the slightest- his gaze was unbelievably audacious as he looked Xie Lian up and down without a hint of shame.

Xie Lian groaned mentally. Pei Ming was practically writing “Please Murder Me” on his own forehead.  Xie Lian subtly nudged the back of Hua Cheng’s hand. His eyes were like black ice, but he said nothing. 

“Your Highness, is that you?” Pei Ming asked. “I must say, you look quite…different.” He decided. His expression shifted into something far slimier, “They say that before you were banished, you were the fairest martial god of them all. I can certainly see why.”

Covering up Pei Ming’s death was going to be such a hassle, Xie Lian thought. He couldn’t even begin to think of how he was going to worm his way out of it. But some things couldn’t be helped. Xie Lian waited for the strike, for the splatter of blood, but surprisingly, none came. Xie Lian sneaked a glance at Hua Cheng. 

He wore a fake smile, like always, but it had taken on a truly disturbing air. He was so calm it was downright chilling.

“General Ming Guang,” Hua Cheng greeted, bowing slightly. “I am San Lang, from His Highness’ palace. Forgive my impertinence, but I couldn’t help but wonder why you weren’t participating earlier. I had heard General Ming Guang was famous for holding his liquor, so I was quite anxious to witness it for myself.”

Xie Lian nearly choked. With every word Hua Cheng said, his dread doubled. There was no way Hua Cheng would ever say something like that about Pei Ming unless he knew the end result would be well worth it.

Pei Ming, of course, was oblivious to this fact. He smoothed his ponytail, preening. “San Lang, is it? It’s true, but unfortunately there’s no one in the heavens who even poses a challenge, these days. Things have certainly gone downhill.”

Hua Cheng pounced, his face still deceptively good natured. “Is that so? Perhaps the General would humor me?”

Pei Ming paused his preening to scoff. “Forgive me, little deputy, but that would hardly be fair. Perhaps you should ask one of your…peers.”

Hua Cheng was unfazed, his smile still perfectly placid. Xie Lian would even say he looked quite innocent, if he didn’t know any better. “I understand. The general has an illustrious reputation to maintain.”

Bullseye. Pei Ming’s brows furrowed, clearly incensed. “Are you actually implying that you-“ He laughed cruelly, “Please, let’s be realistic, shall we? Do you know how old I am? The number of my followers? The size of my territory? Go on, answer me.”

Hua Cheng blinked. “Of course, General, that’s why it would be particularly embarrassing for you to lose to one such as me.” He bowed meekly. “I understand completely, please forget I said anything.”

Pei Ming’s eye twitched sharply. “Your Highness,” he asked, still glaring at Hua Cheng, “I hope you will agree that I can’t possibly be blamed if something were to happen to your attendant.”

Xie Lian supposed this was better than murder. He nodded sagely, “Of course, General.”

A few minutes later, Hua Cheng stood across from Pei Ming at the head of the long table. The others had awkwardly gathered around the end, obviously a bit nervous about the entire situation. None of them particularly wanted to hang around a drunk Pei Ming, nor did they wish to witness a fresh deputy god drink himself to death before their very eyes. 

“Ooh, ooh, I’ll referee!” The Wind Master shouted, breaking the tension. “Standard rules?”

Mu Qing rolled his eyes. “You mean there are actually rules to this kind of thing?”

“Of course there are!” The Wind Master snapped, thoroughly offended. “It’s like this. Each round, both parties drink. They then have to answer a question asked by the referee, yours truly. If they finish the drink and answer the question correctly, they pass the round. Whoever fails to finish their drink or answer a question correctly loses!”

“What sort of questions?” Xie Lian asked, worried.

“Kind of like trivia, except it’s stuff we all know they should know, ya know?”

“We just met him,” Feng Xin said, nodding to Hua Cheng, “How the hell are we supposed to know what he knows?”

The Wind Master tapped her lips with a painted fingernail. “Well, he’s His Highness’ deputy, right? So he should know everything about His Highness!”

Xie Lian instantly relaxed. Feng Xin and Mu Qing looked to each other, debating. Xie Lian wondered if they were conversing in a private array. Eventually they both nodded, although they still looked displeased. But Xie Lian also wasn’t quite sure why everyone was deferring to them- he was standing right there!

“What about me?” Pei Ming pouted.

The Wind Master clapped her fan closed with a sharp snap. “I know what you know. Unfortunately. Now, shall we?” She uncorked a liquor jug and took a tentative sniff. She made a face like she had been slapped across the face. “Wow! Okay.” She poured some into one of the cups in front of her. But rather than handing it to the players, she downed it herself with a wink. “My payment.”

 She filled two cups to the brim and passed them to either side of the table. Pei Ming and Hua Cheng were simply staring at each other, with undisguised and disguised contempt, respectfully. Xie Lian wasn’t nervous Hua Cheng was going to lose, such a thing was an impossibility, but he was a bit worried about the consequences that would result from his victory.

“Now,” The Wind Master called in a clear voice, swishing her long sleeves with an elegant flair, “Drink!”

They both drained their cup with little fanfare. Even though the spiritually enhanced liquor would down a mortal man with a single drop, both men seemed unfazed. 

“Very good! Now, General, you first. When is my birthday?”

“What kind of question is that?!”  Pei Ming sputtered. 

“One you should know! You’ve been to my birthday party like a million times.”

“Not of my own volition!” Pei Ming shouted. He rolled his eyes and begrudgingly answered. “Fine. January 24th.”

The Wind Master grinned, “See, that wasn’t so hard! Now, San Lang…” She considered a moment, “When is His Highness’ birthday?”

Hua Cheng answered without a second’s hesitation. “July 15th.”

The Windmaster looked to Xie Lian, who nodded. “Very good! Next!”

And so it continued. 

One round turned into three, three turned into six. Hua Cheng seemed perfectly at ease, not a hair out of place. Pei Ming was slouching a bit and his eyes were red, but he was still mostly coherent. Hua Cheng downed his seventh cup and awaited his question. Sometime around the third round, Feng Xin and Mu Qing had resumed their frantic, angry whispering, but Hua Cheng seemed completely oblivious.

“Okayyy,” the Windmaster drawled, tapping her fan. She had snuck in a cup or two between rounds. “Let’s see. What was the name of His Highness’ first sword?”

Hua Cheng blinked serenely. “Blushing Petals.”

Mu Qing pointed at him with a cry. “Ha! That’s wrong! What kind of name is that, anyways? He loses, right?”

“Actually-“ Xie Lian began, but he was swiftly interrupted by Feng Xin. 

“No, he’s technically right. That’s what His Highness first named it, but the king made him change it right away.” His expression was a little confused, as if he couldn’t figure out why Xie Lian had told his servant such a thing. But he still gave Mu Qing a rough shove, “See, you don’t know fucking everything!”

Xie Lian sighed. Some things never changed.

“Very well, another round down! Gentleman, this is getting a bit booooring don’t you think? Let’s raise the stakes!” She pulled another two cups out of nowhere and passed two full cups to either player. “Doubles!” She shouted, “Now, drink!”

A line of worry creased Pei Ming’s brows for a moment, but he quickly smoothed it away and downed the liquor in two great gulps. Hua Cheng did the same, albeit far more mildly. Finally, there seemed to be a change in the General. He blinked hard, his eyes noticeably unfocused. 

“Alrighty-o, General. Now, in what year did Pei Xiu ascend?”

Pei Ming’s head slumped against his shoulder. “Who?”

Feng Xin barked out a laugh. 

That seemed to wake Pei Ming up a bit though, and he pinched the bridge of his nose. “I mean, I know, I know, I was just…whatever. It was…it was the third year in the reign of Emperor Shin.”

With a loud cry, the Windmaster dramatically picked up his cups and slammed them upside down on the table. “Wrong! That was when you ascended, General. Everyone, our winner, San Lang!

“Fuck.” Pei said, and promptly slumped against the table face first. 

They all clapped, some more genuinely than others. Hua Cheng smiled and bowed his head in thanks. Xie Lian was actually quite impressed- he didn’t seem affected in the slightest! In the past, excessive liquor had always made Hua Cheng particularly…mischevious. He rose from the table and approached Xie Lian. 

“Well done, San Lang!” He praised. 

“Thank you, Your Highness. Are you hungry? It’s getting late.”

Xie Lian hadn’t had a moment to even really think about such things. He opened his mouth to reply, but was interrupted by a presence behind him.

“Are you going to the banquet hall?” Ming Yi asked, wiping the edge of his mouth with his sleeve. Xie Lian glanced behind him to the other end of the courtyard, only to find every single other competitor completely incapacitated. 

“Oh, yes, food! I’m starving! Ming-xiong did you win? Oh wow, looks like you did! Did you get me a prize?”

“No.”

“For shame, so inconsiderate! Come on, come on, I’m dying! Your Highness, you’re coming too, right?”

Well, they had come this far. So far, the night had gone completely different than how he had imagined. He had expected to stand off to the side with Hua Cheng for a couple of hours before quietly slinking away. Somehow, he had ended up celebrating the Lunar New Year with Feng Xin and Mu Qing again. He felt a bit pathetic, comparing this odd investigation to the actual celebrations of their youth. Even worse, in the back of his mind, he had nearly convinced himself that they were only so furiously suspicious because they still cared about him. That they were still overprotective, even after all of this time. But that was a dangerous thing to hope, so Xie Lian pushed it to the corners of his mind and focused on the warm, soft pressure of Hua Cheng’s hand on the small of his back.

//////

“See! He’s doing it again!” Mu Qing hissed.

On the other side of the table, San Lang was carefully giving Xie Lian morsels of food from his own bowl. Xie Lian hummed in thanks, though he was admittedly distracted trying to follow the rambling narrative of the Wind Master’s story.

“So he frequently…oversteps.” Feng Xin said in their personal communication array. “Who cares about that? We need to figure out who the hell he is. There’s no way he’s just some random deputy official.”

Mu Qing thought they should care quite a bit! It was so obvious that there was something…intimate going on between His Highness and his deputy, but Feng Xin was determined to be obtuse. He would never admit it, but Mu Qing knew he still clung to the image of His Highness as an ethereal, snow-white lotus prince. “Whatever. There isn’t any evil qi coming off of him. Plus he has divine energy, so he’s not just some mortal, either.”

“Maybe he’s another official in disguise?” Feng Xin suggested.

Mu Qing glanced at him, dumbfounded. 

“What?”

Mu Qing shook his head. “Nothing. That was just an actual coherent thought, for once. I never thought this day would come.”

Feng Xin punched him in the kidney.

“Yoohooo, Generals, what was that about?” The Wind Master drawled, leaning her head on the Earth Master’s shoulder. Shockingly, he allowed it, instead placing his full focus on the noodles in front of him.

“Nothing!” Mu Qing snapped, giving Feng Xin a shove for good measure.

Xie Lian laughed nervously. “Ah…the dumplings are excellent, don’t you think San Lang?” 

The man nodded and picked up a plump little dumpling in his chopsticks. “Here, gege, have another.”

But instead of placing it in His Highness’ bowl, he held it up to his mouth! Mu Qing had assumed His Higness would gently scold him and pick up the dumpling himself, but to his horror, he just let the man feed him! He chomped on the dumpling happily, eyes squinting. The King was undoubtedly spinning in his grave at such a horrific display. And worst of all, San Lang just stared at him as he ate, eyes dark with…something.

“Did you see that? Absolutely shameless! They’re obviously…you know!”

Feng Xin looked worried, “That doesn’t mean they’re…doing anything.”  But even in the array, his voice sounded horribly unconvinced.

“Feng Xin - just admit this guy managed to seduce His Higness-”

“No,” Feng Xin snapped, “No way. It’s not possible.”

Mu Qing was going to lose his mind. 

“They are not as good as Your Highness’ cooking.” San Lang murmured across the table.

Mu Qing and Feng Xin choked in tandem. 

Feng Xin glanced at him, eyes genuinely terrified. “Fuck! He’s fucking nuts!”

“Oh, I didn’t know you could cook, Your Highness! I should come over for dinner!” The Wind Master cried.

Feng Xin appeared to be physically incapable of holding it in. “Dont! If you value your life, Lady Windmaster, don’t.”

Apparently Xie Lian didn’t seem nearly offended enough, so the Windmaster took up his case as her own. “Hey!” The Wind Master cried, standing wobbly. “Nan Yang, that’s not nice!” She gave her fan a forceful flick, and the bench Mu Qing and Feng Xin shared was tossed backwards. They landed in a heap on the hard stone floor, limbs tangled together.

“Wind Master-!” Feng Xin roared, rubbing the back of his head. Mu Qing rolled onto his knees, and tried to straighten his hair, but he was instantly distracted by something under the table.

“Feng Xin!” He cried in the array, “Look, under the table!”

At the other side of the table, San Lang had a slender hand wrapped around Xie Lian’s upper thigh.

Feng Xin screeched so loud Mu Qing had to kick him out of his head for a couple of seconds. Mu Qing righted the bench and threw him a cutting glance. “Get it together! We need to think.”

Feng Xin’s face darkened, but they resumed their seat. He looked like he was going to be sick, but he still bowed his head slightly, eyes averted. “Sorry, Your Highness.”

Apologizing for something miniscule like that after…well, it was laughable.

“Oh, its alright,” His Highness said, waving his hands, “I know I’m not the best! I’m just glad San Lang likes it.” 

Ok, now it was Mu Qing’s turn to vomit.

San Lang was staring at Xie Lian intensely again, eyes clearing saying something Mu Qing couldn’t quite make out. 

“Is gege done eating? If so, I have a favor to ask His Highness.”

“Oh?” Xie Lian asked.

“Mn. I noticed we passed a blacksmith selling spiritual weapons earlier. I’ve been looking for a new sword - could His Highness help me pick one?”

Surprising exactly no one, Xie Lian’s eyes lit up at the prospect of a new martial weapon. “Oh, of course! I’d be happy to help San Lang.”

“Wait, wait, I’m almost done!” The Windmaster called, cheeks bulging with tangyuan.

San Lang stood and gently helped Xie Lian to his feet. “Thank you, Lady Wind Master, but there’s no need for anyone else to join us. I only require His Highness’ opinion. “ 

He steered Xie Lian out of the banquet hall, pace suspiciously quick. Mu Qing waited until they passed through the doorway. 

He looked to Feng Xin. “You coming?”

“Let’s get that fucker.”

///

Mu Qing and Feng Xin followed them from a distance, all while carefully keeping to the shadows. San Lang led Xie Lian through the throngs of partygoers to a less crowded corner of the capital. They came to a small plaza surrounded by a set of palaces squished tightly together, their garden walls creating a veritable maze. Xie Lian and San Lang turned a corner quickly, but by the time Mu Qing and Feng Xin reached the edge of the plaza, they found they had no idea which of the small alleyways the pair had taken.

“Fuck,” Feng Xin cursed, “Where the hell did they go?”

“Let’s just pick one and start looking.”

They looped through one street, then another, but there was no sign of them. All of the celebrations were in the center of the capitol, leaving the streets around them hauntingly empty. They turned down another alley and came upon an open garden gate. Mu Qing slinked inside, holding his finger to his lips. 

Had he not been so focused on his current task, Mu Qing would have taken more time to admire the little garden. It was emmacuately maintained and contained a fair number of rare plant species. Plus, one side was lined with great statues of spiritual beasts, each one at least 2 meters tall. 

Their senses were focused and incredibly honed, so when they heard a small muffled sound from behind one of the statues up ahead, they both sprang into action. Per usual, Mu Qing instantly assumed the worst. He managed to round the edge of the statue first, his fingers flying to the handle of his sabre. 

But what he saw-

Mu Qing was going to gouge his fucking eyes out. But he didn’t think even that would be enough. This horrifying image would haunt him for the rest of his miserable, immortal life.

His Highness had been unceremious shoved against the side of the statue, and his deputy was in the process of devouring him entirely. San Lang held his jaw in a firm grip and kissed him fiercely, incessantly licking into the other man’s mouth like he’d gone mad with thirst. With mounting horror, Mu Qing realized his other hand was cupped around Xie Lian’s backside, and was using it as leverage to pull their hips flush together. Making things worse, Mu Qing couldn’t even pretend for a moment that this was some unwanted advance, because one of Xie Lian’s legs was hooked around San Lang’s hips. It was a fairly damning sight, all in all.

Feng Xin arrived a heart beat later and let out an inhuman gurgle. He was too shocked to curse, which was, truth me told, a first. 

Xie Lian pushed San Lang away with a yelp. He looked truly and properly ravished.

“Ah-ah! G-generals…it’s ah…not…what it looks like?” He finished pathetically. He face was flushed crimson. San Lang, on the other hand, didn’t appear the least bit ashamed. No, in fact he looked rather fucking smug. Mu Qing was going to bash his head in.

Feng Xin’s brain finally rebooted. “What the fuck are you doing! You fucking-” The idiot actually drew his bow, despite the fact that San Lang was about 5 feet in front of him.

Xie Lian quickly grabbed the bow and lowered it. “No, Feng Xin, please! Let’s all just calm down, alright?”

Mu Qing slowly removed his hand from the hilt of his sabre. “Start talking. What exactly is going on here?”

There were only two possibilities, really. One, Xie Lian was sleeping with his deputy official. But the Xie Lian he knew would balk at such an abuse of authority, so that was instantly crossed off the list. So what remained was that this man was not Xie Lian’s deputy at all. 

“Your Highness, who the hell is he?” Feng Xin asked darkly.

Xie Lian looked to San Lang nervously. Why did he look so terrified?

A sudden thought occurred to Mu Qing. “Your Highness, is he blackmailing you? If he is, we’ll-”

“No, no, no! Nothing like that! I wanted to! I mean- I…” Xie Lian blushed even deeper and looked away, rubbing his forehead.

Feng Xin was forced to accept that this was somehow consenual, but he wasn’t ready to let go of his outrage. “I don’t give a shit! He has no fucking right to take such liberties with Your Highness!” He put away his bow and drew his short sword instead, “He’s practically spitting on your virtue! I should run him through right here-”

“Feng Xin!” Xie Lian cried, voice louder than ever. He actually looked rather angry. It was unnerving, and it instantly took Mu Qing back to much darker times. “He was well within his rights, I assure you. Put the sword away.” 

Feng Xin was a bit taken aback by the coldness of his expression, and resheathed his sword without a word.

Mu Qing’s mind finally processed what Xie Lian had said. “What do you mean?” He asked.

Xie Lian sighed and looked to San Lang, obviously seeking reassurance. The other man tucked a strand of hair behind his ear and gave him a gentle smile.

“Alright,” Xie Lian said, seemingly more confident, “I have a confession to make. San Lang isn’t actually my deputy.”

“No shit.” Mu Qing drolled.

“He’s my husband.”

Mu Qing blinked. Then blinked again. “What?”

Xie Lian grinned, seemingly unaware that his old companions were numb with shock. “Yes! We got married a few decades ago.”

San Lang hummed and wrapped an arm around his waist. “Mn. 30 years this fall.”

Feng Xin swayed on his feet. He would have hit the ground had Mu Qing not been there to prop him up. Mu Qing felt like he had stepped into another plane of existence- His Highness, His Highness, was somehow married? Had been, for literal decades?! How had either of them not heard a single word about this? Mu Qing knew Feng Xin checked in on him occasionally, just to make sure he wasn’t dead. How had he missed this? His palace was nothing but a gaggle of fucking buffoon’s, their leader included!

Mu Qing was still reeling, trying to piece his thoughts together, but Feng Xin was hardly concerned with sounding coherent.

“Your Highness- what- you- I- you…don’t mean that you’re actually like married married, right? Your Highness, this isn’t funny-“

“I’m not joking!” His Highness assured him. “We’re truly married.” San Lang tightened his grip on his waist and pressed a kiss to his neck, as if to emphasize just how married they were.

Oddly, Mu Qing began to feel a rising sense of panic. Everything felt sharp and tilted. But something in particular pricked him like a needle, and he wasn’t quite sure why.

“What about your cultivation?” He asked.

Xie Lian blushed at the implication. “Oh ha ha, that…I hm, ah… changed my path.”

“What? When?” Mu Qing asked. 

Xie Lian bit his lip. “Shortly after we met.”

Feng Xin let out a high pitched squeak. “Your Highness!”

“Ha ha, so you see, everything is fine! You don’t need to wor-“ He coughed, “There’s no cause for alarm, alright?”

Mu Qing still felt off kilter. He had always assumed that, because of their shared path, he and His Highness would always walk similar roads, so to speak. But to hear that he had changed his path like changing his robes; it left Mu Qing with this gnawing sense of embarrassment. Like he had been duped, somehow. But, best focus on the matter at hand.

“Why lie, then?” Mu Qing asked. 

Xie Lian’s smile dimmed a bit, at that. “Right. I’m sorry I tried to deceive you. It’s just…” He looked away, eyes focused on the smooth marble of the statue. “I was a bit nervous about coming tonight. It’s silly isn’t it? So I asked San Lang to come with me. But only heavenly officials are allowed in the heavens, so…”

Mu Qing paused. Why was he so nervous about attending? It’s not like anyone would bother him - all of the other officials were terrified that his bad luck would rub off on them if they dared get within a 5 meter radius. But…but maybe that was worse.

But regardless, that dashed Feng Xin’s theory about San Lang being an undercover god. Which meant he really was just mortal- but that seemed equally impossible.

Feng Xin seemed to be thinking along the same lines. “So who is he, then?” He asked.

Xie Lian smiled placidly, but Mu Qing knew him well enough to know that this particular smile was covering a flood of panic underneath. “I told you, he’s my husband. Now we should return to the party, don’t you think? And I…” He paused, eyes turning hopeful. “I have no right to ask this of you, but… could you please keep this to yourself? I don’t want to offend the Emperor. Again.”

Mu Qing looked to Feng Xin. They could have used their private array, but they didn’t really need to. Feng Xin’s eyes were still hard, but there was a gentleness to the ever-present furrow of his brows. 

“Fine. We won’t say anything.” Mu Qing said. “But that doesn’t mean we trust him.”

“I’d rather you didn’t.” San Lang said lowly. Only then did Mu Qing notice the change that had come over the other man. He had been polite on the surface level the entire evening, fully committed to his role, but now that their secret was out, the humble facade had vanished entirely. Now, he looked at the pair of them like they were cockroaches. 

The air was growing more and more tense as they glared at one another, and soon enough Xie Lian cut in. “There, see! Thank you. Now come, let’s return to the celebrations, alright?”

He moved to pull San Lang along behind him, but jumped in horror as he took in the state of his tangled mane. Then, with another startle he felt along the mess of his own hair and flushed.

“Don’t worry, gege. Let me fix it.” With deft hands, the man quickly unbraided and rebraided Xie Lians hair with surprising skill. Mu Qing and Feng Xin could do nothing but wait awkwardly while they lovingly fussed over one another.

 Xie Lian combed his fingers through San Lang’s hair, detangling the strands that framed his face. A thin braid came loose and tumbled down the front of his tunic. And tied to the end of that braid, was a flawless coral pearl. 

Mu Qing’s stomach plummeted to the ground. Should he be reincarnated 300 times, he would still remember that coral pearl anywhere. But why…how? Was this some sort of prank? Panic flooded his veins, cold as ice. He needed to think. He had to stay calm so he could think!

Xie Lian and San Lang turned back toward the garden gate. Seemingly reluctant, Feng Xin moved to follow them. He turned to look at Mu Qing, who had yet to take a breath since he saw that goddamn pearl. 

“Come on.”

 Mu Qing nodded and forced his legs into action, falling into step behind the couple. Annoyingly, Feng Xin kept looking at him out of the corner of his eye. He thought he was being covert about it, but in reality he just looked ridiculous. Would everyone just leave him alone for five seconds so he could try to figure out what the fuck was going on? Mu Qing let out a deep, shaky exhale.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Feng Xin asked in their private array. 

The idea of lying never really crossed his mind, even though Feng Xin would likely think he was being insanely paranoid and narcissistic for even thinking such a thing. 

“In his hair. “ Mu Qing started, voice cautious. “There was a red coral pearl in his hair.”

Feng Xin threw him a questioning look. “So what?”

“Don’t you understand, you idiot? It was the coral pearl!”

Feng Xin blinked, “What are you talking about? What pearl?”

Mu Qing elbowed him on the ribs. “Idiot! The lost red coral pearl from the Shanyuan Festival!”

Feng Xin’s step faltered, but his gaze remained steadily fixed on Xie Lians back. “No way, who knows where that thing ended up? There are millions of coral pearls out there.”

“It’s the same one. I’m sure of it.”

Feng Xin rolled his eyes. “Why do you always have to make everything about you, huh?”

Mu Qing couldn’t fucking take it anymore. Still keeping up their pace, he grabbed his wrist in a firm grip. Mu Qing could feel the soft thrumming of Feng Xin’s pulse beneath his fingertips.

“Feng Xin.” He said, grave as death, “I’m telling you, it’s the same.” He stopped before he blurted out something ridiculous, like please, just trust me. 

Feng Xin raised his brows, eyes fixed to their hands. Flushing, Mu Qing let go of his wrist. 

“Alright.” Feng Xin said. “Fine, I believe you, alright?” Mu Qing was a bit shocked at that. He did? “Maybe His Highness went back and found it?”

“I doubt it. Xie Lian probably wouldn’t have even recognized it. He hardly paid any attention to his jewelry.”

“So what are you saying?”

Somehow, that tiny bit of faith in him had settled his mind. His thoughts raced, carefully considering the possibilities. An old theory began to resurface in his mind, gaining more and more shape with each passing  thought. He looked to San Lang, but it was hard to consider the shade of his hair beneath the dancing lights of the lanterns. 

“I always thought the earring was stolen. I even had a suspect.” 

“You did?”

“Someone who had many opportunities. Someone who literally clung to His Highness for hours, that day.” 

Feng Xin furrowed his brows, considering carefully. Then he gave a start. “You don’t actually mean- you think that fucking kid stole it? The one who fell?”

Mu Qing gave a small nod. 

Feng Xin scoffed out loud, but the pair in front of them seemed to be too absorbed in one another to notice. 

“Based on what evidence? You have no proof! Besides, is that actually what you’re saying? You think San Lang is somehow that kid?!”

Mu Qing flushed a little. It was a bit of an outrageous claim, based largely on his intuitions alone. It sounded a bit…convoluted, said aloud.

Feng Xin grunted softly. “Even if he did, it’s been 800 years, and that kid probably didn’t even make it to twenty. No way he’s still alive.”

A suspicion wormed its way into Mu Qing’s mind. They had ruled it out as an impossibility, but something about it seemed to connect the puzzle pieces. “Maybe he’s not."

“Huh? Not what?”

“Alive.”

Feng Xin took a moment to catch his meaning. “He doesn’t have any malicious qi, remember? That’s impossible.”

That was certainly true. But Mu Qing had also been around a long, long time, and he knew that there were often a number of ways to achieve the impossible. “He’s masking it somehow.”

Mu Qing waited for Feng Xin to push back. It wouldn’t be unreasonable- Mu Qing wasn’t naive, he knew what he suggested was technically illogical. But surprisingly, the other man said nothing. He studied San Lang’s back carefully, as if he would find some clear answer there. 

“If that’s true, then what?”

Mu Qing let out a breath he didn’t remember taking. “We need to find out how strong he is. Based on tonight…he could be a threat. He’s old, after all. To have survived these past 800 years, he’s unlikely just some random malice.”

Feng Xin nodded. “And how exactly do we do that?” He was being awfully pliable today.

“I have an idea.”

///

Surprisingly, San Lang managed to find a blacksmith’s stall among the countless other vendors. His stall was actually the largest of them all, and included a little practice ring to test out the weapons. Mu Qing highly doubted San Lang originally intended to pick out a new weapon in the first place, but Xie Lian seemed genuinely excited about the prospect. 

Mu Qing and Feng Xin stood off to the side while Xie Lian dragged San Lang to each rack of swords, excitedly explaining the origins of each variant. 

Feng Xin let out a long breath, flapping his lips like a horse. “Now what?”

“I’ve got an idea, alright, just give me a second.”

“What are you guys talking about?”

Mu Qing jumped as an arm settled heavily around his shoulders. Pei Ming, only minorly sobered up, leaned heavily against him and tossed a handful of melon seeds into his mouth. He nodded to Xie Lian and San Lang.

“Them?” He asked, mouth full,  “Trying to figure out if they’re fucking? Oh, they definitely are, trust me.”

Mu Qing shoved him off with a hiss. “Where the fuck did you come from? Who asked you?!” He looked to Feng Xin. “Deal with him.”

With a shudder, Mu Qing approached Xie Lian. He was fully absorbed in their search, and was currently having San Lang balance the weight of a particularly slender sword. Xie Lian hummed.

“It’s nice, but I still think you’re best suited to a saber.” San Lang smiled and raised his eyebrows, but said nothing.

“Let me help.” Mu Qing said. He turned to the wall of sabers and carefully inspected the selection. After a moment, he chose a deep black saber with a bone hilt.

He extended it to San Lang. “What about this?”

San Lang looked at him like he had just offered him a pile of human shit. But thankfully, Xie Lians eyes lit up at the weapon, and he turned it over in his hands in admiration. 

“Nice choice, Mu Qing! This is excellent. See the bevel here?”

He handed it to San Lang, urging the man to give it a couple of experimental swings. 

“Why not test it out?” Mu Qing asked, voice even. “The best way to evaluate a new weapon is to actually spar with it.”

San Langs eyes immediately narrowed. “No thanks.”

So far, Mu Qing had only been able to ferret out a single weakness in San Lang. And that was his undeniable infatuation with Xie Lian.

“Your Highness, don’t you think that would be best? Especially a saber- fighting against another saber is actually the most informative.”

Was this true? Maybe, yes, technically not. It didn’t matter. 

“Uhh…” Xie Lian stammered, wringing his hands, “I suppose that would be helpful. But I’m not much good with a saber. I’m sure a sword would be fine…”

In reality, Mu Qung knew Xie Lian was perfectly proficient with a saber. But he wasn’t otherworldly the way he was with a sword. Xie Lian had lost most of his pride over the years, but this sticking point remained. When it came to showcasing martial prowess, anything less than transcendental perfection was an embarrassment. This was the one thing Mu Qing had always just barely held above Xie Lian, and he wasn’t about to squander the opportunity to kill two birds with one stone.

“Allow me.” Mu Qing offered.

Xie Lian opened his mouth to reply, but stopped short. 

“What, would that be a problem?” Mu Wing pressed.

Xie Lian looked to San Lang, mouth pressed into a thin line. The other man gave him a small nod, and turned to Mu Qing with a slow, venomous smile. It was the creepiest fucking thing Mu Qing had ever seen.

“Sure, why not?”

He laid the long saber over his shoulder and sauntered to the middle of the sparring area. Mu Qing ignored Xie Lian’s worried expression and walked towards the ring. Feng Xin caught his arm as he passed. 

“Be careful.” He muttered. 

Mu Qing stepped inside the ring and slowly drew Zhan Madao. San Lang was tossing his own saber back and forth in either hand, getting a feel for the weight. With a bored expression, he flicked it sharply out to the side. 

That was invitation enough. Mu Qing lunged at him with blinding speed, sweeping his saber in a brutal arc. The bastard didn’t even raise his weapon to pary - he just stepped aside at the very last second. Mu Qing struck again and again with the same result. San Lang was impossibly fast, and dodged each and every strike with a look of absolute boredom. Mu Qing changed tactics - rather than going for wide swings, he started attacking with straight, piercing strikes. Each and every one ghosted past their target. Growing increasingly desperate, Mu Qing punctuated a failed strike with a particularly brutal kick, but San Lang caught his ankle and shoved him backwards.

By the time he regained his footing, Mu Qing was shaking with rage. “Bastard! Are you going to attack or not?”

San Lang gave the saber an elegant spin. “If you insist.”

Mu Qing had sparred with dozens of martial gods over the years. Hell, he had frequently sparred with Xie Lian at the height of his ability, but none of them had attacked with such unbridled ferocity. He struck with unpredictable, wild strikes, each one as fast as it was powerful. It was all Mu Qing could do to block each swing, let alone get in an actual attack himself. It was such a frenetic fighting style, wholly unique, but Mu Qing had a creeping feeling of deja vu. Mu Qing ducked to block a wide swing, but San Lang merely stepped around him and kicked him in the back of the knees, sending him sprawling to the ground. Burning with shame, Mu Qing got to his feet just in time to dodge another brutal slash. Part of what was throwing him off was that San Lang used the saber so strangely - almost as if he were used to a slightly different weapon. He flaired each strike more than normally, almost as if he were used to a curved blade - 

Mu Qing’s blood ran cold. Naturally, San Lang seized the opening and landed a hard kick to his solar plexus. Mu Qing hit the ground hard, lungs burning. Impossible, impossible, impossible. Xie Lian would never - oh fuck, maybe he would- How could that kid turn into- A rising sense of panic washed over him like a flood, drowning him completely.

San Lang leaned over him, his hair falling in a tangled curtain. “General, thank you for the spar. You’re right, that was most informative.” He walked back towards Xie Lian, leaving Mu Qing to suffer in the dirt. 

A few seconds later, Feng Xin crouched down next to him. “Are you alright?”

Mu Qing tried to take a deep breath, but it rattled like a drum. He didn’t even bother to use their personal array.

“Hua Cheng.” He whispered between his teeth.

Feng Xin stiffened. “What?”

Mu Qing sat up and gripped Feng Xin’s bicep with a bruising strength. “Him.”

Feng Xin froze, eyes dilating. He turned to face Mu Qing. “There’s no way. His Highness…he wouldn’t…” He surveyed Mu Qing’s carefully, no doubt noting the genuine terror coloring his features. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Do you think he knows?”

Mu Qing shrugged. With His Highness, it could honestly go either way.

Feng Xin’s breathing grew faster, and Mu Qing could practically see the storm clouds rolling in. Feng Xin had always been hopelessly overprotective of His Highness, and he had been forced to make unthinkable concessions over the course of the night. But this - His Highness being married to a supreme ghost king, was too much for him to bear. Mu Qing hoped he wasn’t stupid enough to call out San Lang - Hua Cheng, in front of everyone. He couldn’t imagine Jun Wu would take kindly to a heavenly official being married to heaven’s most prominent adversary. Hua Cheng might go down, but Xie Lian would go down right alongside him.

Feng Xin pulled Mu Qing to his feet and dragged him over to Xie Lian.

“Your Highness,” Feng Xin said lowly, pulling Xie Lian’s attention away from a collection of flails, “Can we talk in your palace?”

Xie Lian was taken aback. “My palace?”

“You do still have a palace in the heavens, don’t you?”

Xie Lian scratched his forehead. “I suppose so, but it’s a little…What’s this about? Is everything alright?” Hua Cheng said nothing. He just stood behind Xie Lian, glowering with an unwavering intensity.

“That’s yet to be determined.” Feng Xin said, tone clipped. “Lead the way.”

///

While Xie Lian did technically have a palace in the heavens, it was clear it hadn’t been used in some time. Though obviously new, every surface was covered in a fine layer of dust, and sheets had been thrown over all of the furnishings. It felt quite odd to be here, especially given that this newly constructed palace was virtually identical to the one he’d had at his first ascension. It also more closely resembled the Imperial Palace in Xianle far more than either Mu Qing or Feng Xin’s palaces, which made this whole affair seem even more surreal.  

Feng Xin plucked a sheet off of an armchair, only to jerk back as a flurry of moths made their escape. They opted to stand instead.

“Ha ha, sorry about that…” Xie Lian stammered.

It was the first thing he’d said since they’d entered his palace. He had been quiet the entire walk over, though his face had failed to mask his anxiety. Now, he kept looking to Hua Cheng nervously, his fingers constantly fidgeting with the hem of his sleeves. 

Hua Cheng had been eerily silent as well. While his looks to Xie Lian were incredibly gentle, the second he glanced their way his eyes sharpened into daggers, seething with loathing. The instantaneous change would actually be quite remarkable if it weren’t so terrifying.

They might as well cut to the chase. Mu Qing crossed his arms in his sleeves, eyes hard. “Your Highness. Do you know?”

Xie Lian feigned confusion. It was a little insulting. “Know what?”

“Who. He. Is.”

Xie Lian’s eyes widened. He seemed to consider denying it, but Hua Cheng stepped closer behind him and placed a gentle hand on his waist. Xie Lian glanced at him over his shoulder, and when he looked back his expression was surprisingly defiant. He moved to stand in front of Hua Cheng completely.

“Is that a problem?” He asked, voice low. 

Is that a problem? Was he fucking serious? Mu Qing was hard pressed to come up with a single unproblematic thing about this entire situation! And him! Protective of Hua Cheng! This was lunacy! 

Even more annoyingly, Hua Cheng himself didn’t seem at all concerned with the accusation, or with their presence at all, for that matter. Actually, he seemed to be swooning over how overprotective Xie Lian was being. 

Feng Xin had been holding out hope that Xie Lian didn’t know the truth, but now that had collapsed completely. “Your Highness! What the fuck are you thinking?” He rubbed at his temples harshly, “How could you marry someone like him?! He’s the fucking worst!  Mu Qing, tell him-!”

Though he understood his sentiments exactly, Mu Qing tried to take a calmer approach, to try to emphasize the danger rather than their outrage. “Your Highness. He cannot be trusted, not under any circumstances. Who knows if he’s just been lying to you this whole time? Manipulating you?”

This appeared to hit a nerve for Hua Cheng. He stepped around Xie Lian and glared at them evenly. “I would sooner disperse than lie to His Highness.”

And the strange thing is, Mu Qing was half inclined to believe him. Lying almost seemed beneath Hua Cheng, in an odd sort of way. Biting arrogance and open disdain were much more his style than something mundane like deceit.

Mu Qing adopted a slightly different tactic. “Your Highness, he has done unspeakable things. You know this is true.”

Surely appealing to Xie Lian’s unshakeable moral code would pull him out of this infatuation. Hua Cheng was known as the scourge of the heavens for a very, very good reason. How could Xie Lian knowingly tie himself to one with a heart so black? He was His Highness!

“So have I.” Xie Lian said quietly.

Mu Qing instantly deflated. Xie Lian’s expression was incredibly somber, his gentle smile tinged with an old, deep sadness. He knew Xie Lian blamed himself for the downfall of Xianle, no matter how hard they tried to convince him otherwise. He knew that he had been forced to steal at his lowest. But…maybe that wasn’t the lowest, after all. Now, Mu Qing got the distinct impression that His Highness had been brought impossibly lower, that he had been forced to do something truly unforgivable. I mean, what did they really expect? That Xie Lian would wallow in the dirt for 800 years, utterly despised and alone, all while remaining the perfect paragon of virtue? How impossibly calloused. How could he not give into despair, into the utter humiliation? He was a god, but he was just a man. A familiar, unbearable guilt burned in Mu Qing’s chest.

Xie Lian took a deep breath and grasped Hua Cheng’s hand, seemingly unconsciously. His eyes were stern, if tinged with sadness. “Please, just listen. I appreciate your…concern. But there is no need. I am not a child. I am safe. I am not hurting anyone. And I am not asking for your approval. I…I don’t need your permission to…to be happy.”

Feng Xin gasped like he had been punched in the stomach. They might as well have been.

Xie Lian took another steadying breath. “We’ll take our leave. San Lang, let’s go home.” He slipped his arm through Hua Cheng’s, and they both strode towards the door.

Feng Xin stepped forward.

“Your Highness,” He said, a bit strangled. “Just…just please.  Be careful.”

After a few moments, Xie Lian inclined his head. The next, Hua Cheng tossed a pair of red die into the air and they vanished, leaving Mu Qing and Feng Xin alone in the abandoned palace.

Feng Xin plopped down hard into one of the covered armchairs, sending out a puff of dust. He seemed a bit shellshocked.

 “I need a fucking drink.”

///

“I never expected him to ever get married, and when he does, he decides to marry a fucking ghost king! How unbelievable!”

Over the course of the evening, Feng Xin had vascillated between being outraged that Xie Lian had secretly gotten married at all and being outraged that he had married Hua Cheng in particular.

“And they were so fucking shameless! I mean, I didn’t think His Highness was even interested in that kind of thing. With your guys’ cultivation vows, I figured he stopped having those kinds of…ya know, desires centuries ago. But no, they were acting like a bunch of teenagers! Fucking disgusting.”

Mu Qing paused, as if he was checking that he heard him correctly. Then he snorted and pinched the bridge of his nose, “You’re a fucking moron.” 

“What?!”

Mu Qing flung his wine cup at his head, but Feng Xin dodged it easily, unfazed.

“Idiot! That’s…that’s not how that works!” Mu Qing spat.

Feng Xin had the gall to look genuinely suprised, and oddly…intrigued? “Wait, really? So you still get…ya know-“

“What?! O-of course!” Mu Qing ran a hand down his face, but his skin felt oddly warm, feverish, even. A light breeze blew through the open balcony, and a shiver ran down the back of his neck, making him feel oddly on edge.

Feng Xin’s head lolled to the side, his gaze thoughtful. “So I mean what do you do when you..?” 

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” Mu Qing shrieked. He looked around him, but there were no other projectiles within his reach. He let out another few exasperated huffs, then sheepishly looked away, crossing his arms. “I meditate.”

“Oh.” Feng Xin said simply. Looking a bit uncomfortable, he downed the rest of the wine cup in his hand. Mu Qing slyly glanced at Feng Xin again, and for some reason, he couldn’t pull his eyes away from the roll of his Adam’s apple as he drank, the muscles shifting beneath warm, golden skin. 

Feng Xin was still staring at the cup in his hands. “Don’t you ever get…I dunno, curious?” His voice had taken on an odd tone, as if he were trying to seem nonchalant but failing horribly.

Mu Qing threw him another venomous look and looked away haughtily. His cheeks tinged with heat, and he nearly threw himself over the railing. How had they gotten to this particular line of conversation? He struggled inwardly for a few moments before relenting.

“Sometimes, I guess.” He said begrudgingly, but he quickly course corrected, and his expression turned fierce, “But it doesn’t fucking matter, so shut the fuck up about it already!”

“Okay, okay, alright.” Feng Xin muttered, letting his head flop backwards against the wardrobe, his expression complicated. 

Mu Qing chanced another glance at him.  Did Feng Xin’s skin always seem so…flushed? Idiot must have gotten more drunk than he’d realized.  

Feng Xin cleared his throat awkwardly, fingers drumming anxiously against the rim of the wine cup, “Well, I know it would hurt your cultivation, but if…if you ever were still…curious. I could…help…you.”  

Mu Qing froze for a split second, mind flashing white hot. But he quickly came to his senses and rolled his eyes. “What, you’d set me up with somebody? Please.” 

Feng Xin turned to face him, brows furrowed, then hurriedly looked away from him. “That’s not what I meant.” 

Mu Qing froze again, and he suddenly wondered if he had accidentally gotten black out drunk, and this was all some sort of vivid hallucination. He tried to calm himself and process the words, but they couldn’t quite connect, they just bounced around uselessly in his stupid, thick skull. “What are you talking about,”  he muttered dazedly, “You don’t even like men.” Or me, he thought.

Feng Xin looked back at him, and he had the nerve to look incredulous. After a few moments, his head fell forward in defeat, bangs obscuring his features. “You’re a fucking moron.” 

“What?! You don’t!”

Feng Xin whipped his face upwards, now genuinely angry, “Says who?!”

Mu Qing opened his mouth to reply, but found he didn’t quite know what to say to that. He stammered for a moment, then shut his mouth tightly, looking away. He regained some steam after a moment.

 “Of course that’s what you’d think of me. That’d I’d force you to do something…like that just because I was curious?” Mu Qing inwardly cringed at how oddly breathy his voice sounded, and he could only hope Feng Xin hadn’t noticed.

Mu Qing wasn’t looking at him, but he could imagine his pained expression. He heard Feng Xin let out a long sigh. He sounded exhausted. “Fuck off. You…you wouldn’t be forcing me.” He murmured, voice deep but quiet, almost a whisper. 

Mu Qing stopped breathing. There was a deafening silence in his mind as he quickly sorted through every possible meaning to what he had said. There was obviously something he was misinterpreting, something he had missed. And then he wondered if Feng Xin was mocking him, but Feng Xin just wouldn’t do that, wasn’t even capable of that kind of purposeful cruelty.  With a sense of impending panic, Mu Qing came up horribly empty, and suddenly he could feel his heartbeat thrumming in every inch of his skin. 

“You…” He stared at Feng Xin blankly, on the edge of delirium, “You want to fuck me.”

Feng Xin made a garbled noise, and blushed darkly, and oh that was going to be a problem. A million new feelings flooded Mu Qing’s chest, and he didn’t know how to interpret a single one of them. The only feeling he could name with any certainty was a sudden urge to bite him. How bizarre.

“O-ok fine, maybe, I mean, sometimes-! But it’s not a big deal! You’re just so fucking…you,” Feng Xin waved his hand up and down in Mu Qing’s direction. “It’s just a normal reaction. Get over yourself.”

Mu Qing felt like his soul was leaving his body. He had thought that maybe Feng Xin just found him physically attractive. That was still earth-shattering, but that was separable from actually being attracted to him. But Feng Xin had basically said the opposite. Again, his mind rushed to supply he’s lying, he’s mocking you, he’s - but Feng Xin was always so fucking sincere.  What if…what if he actually meant it? What the fuck was Mu Qing supposed to even do with that? What…what if this was his one, single chance at…at something?

Mu Qing took a silent, deep breath with as much poise as he could muster. “Stop being a coward, then. If you want to do something, do it.” He was somewhat proud his voice only wobbled at the end.

Feng Xin visibly stopped breathing. He just stared at him, mouth gaping like a fish. An idiotic, frustratingly attractive, fish. “What did you just say?”

By this point Mu Qing’s face was so hot it was physically painful. “How are you getting stupider?! You fucking heard me.”

One heartbeat passed. Two. Three. And then Feng Xin bounded forward, and pressed closely against Mu Qing, cradling his chin between two calloused fingers. Mu Qing instinctively tried to back away, but there was nowhere to go except over the edge of the balcony. Feng Xin pressed in closer, and now Mu Qing could taste his breath, taste the sweet plum wine they had been drinking. Feng Xin pressed their foreheads together, his breathing ragged. “Is that actually what you want?” He asked, predictably earnest. Mu Qing said nothing, could say nothing, and Feng Xin cradled his jaw further, his grip firm. “Yes or no, Mu Qing. Say what you mean.” The tender way he said his name nearly made Mu Qing gasp, but he held it in check. There would be no going back. Without overthinking it, for once in his gods forsaken life, Mu Qing jerked his head forward.

And then Feng Xin was kissing him. 

///

If Mu Qing had known his intentions, there was no way he would have let him leave his palace alive. 

Feng Xin made his way to the Palace of Ling Wen, carefully avoiding the post-celebration litter still strewn about the Avenue of Divine Might.  Ling Wen sat at her desk as usual, though, judging by the dark purple bags under her eyes, she was a little worse for wear.

“General Nan Yang,” she greeted, setting aside an impossibly dense scroll, “I hope you enjoyed yourself last night.”

Feng Xin nearly jumped out of his skin. How, how did she- 

“At the festival?” She added, looking confused.

“Oh!” Why was his shouting? He cleared his throat, “Yeah, uh, it was great. Listen, do you happen to know where His Highness is living these days?”

Ling Wen nodded. She was always a bit too smug for his taste. “Ah, yes. I believe he primarily resides in a village in the East. I’ll send you the coordinates.”

An hour later he was coming to the edge of a quiet forest. He had changed into a more casual set of robes, not dissimilar to what he had worn before his ascension, just in case he should come across any errant villagers. Ling Wen had said he lived in one of his shrines. He wasn’t sure what he had been expecting, but it certainly wasn’t…this. If they were going to live in the mortal realm, most heavenly officials, except for maybe Yushi Huang, would insist on living in a lavish palatial compound. Though the small shrine in front of him had clearly been carefully maintained, it was still unbearably small and provincial by heavenly standards. 

As he approached, he noticed a shadow moving behind the linens hanging up to dry in the small yard. Xie Lian appeared off to the side, and placed one of the robes in a large wicker basket. “I know, Ruoye, you’ll get a turn next time, I promise.” Who the hell was he talking to? This Xie Lian, dressed in simple white cultivator robes, was much more familiar than the elegant god from last night. He had looked far too similar to the freshly ascended prince he once knew, though something had shifted ever so slightly, making his entire persona feel a bit…haunting. This version made Feng Xin feel much more at ease. Xie Lian seemed to notice him then, and held up his hand in greeting. He seemed surprised, yes, but also…hopeful in a way that made shame twist like a knife in Feng Xin’s gut. 

“Feng Xin!” He called, meeting him halfway into the clearing. “What are you doing here? Is everything alright?” 

“Nothing’s wrong,” he assured him automatically, though he might need to walk that back a bit later. “I just came…to visit.” The knife twisted again, deeper.

“Oh.” Xie Lian answered. His face was carefully devoid of expression for a few moments before it shifted into an easy smile, as if the events of the night before, or even the last 800 years, were all but foregotten. “Forgive my manners! Please, come in!”

He led Feng Xin into the shrine and ushered him to a small low table. 

“Where’s…the other one?” Feng Xin asked wearily.

“Who, San Lang? He’s running a few errands, he’ll be back soon. Are you hungry?” Xie Lian asked, “I could make-“

“NO!” Feng Xin started, a cold sweat automatically breaking out on his forehead, “No, I’m fine.”

Xie Lian just smiled serenely. “Alright, tea, then!” 

Feng Xin sat quietly while Xie Lian tittered around the kitchen, occasionally talking to himself. The small shrine was fairly humble, but Feng Xin couldn’t deny that it felt oddly…homey. There were clear signs of everyday living; an unwashed dish, a pile of scrolls, a vase full of fresh, snow white flowers. But there were also clear signs that two people shared this living space. There had certainly been two bodies beneath the crumpled blanket in the corner, and the crimson robes hanging on the edge of the wardrobe could only belong to one person. Swallowing, Feng Xin forced his eyes away, desperately trying to think about literally anything else. That’s when he noticed the painting set about the altar in the front of the shrine. Most shrines had statues, but paintings were common enough in rural areas. Most were amateurish at best, but this painting was surprisingly masterful. But that wasn’t the most surprising part.  

“The painting,” Feng Xin said, trying to sound casual, “It looks just like the original ones in Xianle. It’s…nice. Where’d you find it?”

Xie Lian placed the tea tray on the table and sat down across from him. An absolutely disgusting, sticky-sweet smile came over his face. “Isn’t it wonderful? San Lang painted it. He really is quite talented.”

Crimson Rain had painted it? That mental image just seemed…infinitely wrong, somehow. Even if it was quite impressive, Feng Xin wasn’t about to compliment Hua Cheng, so he just grunted in acknowledgment. 

Still smiling stupidly, Xie Lian leaned over to pour his tea. And wait, there - how had he not noticed it immediately?!

“Your Highness,” He started, eyes wide, “Your shackles- what happened to them?!”

Last night, the high collar of his robes had covered where the shackle used to reside, so he hadn’t even thought about it. But now, in Xie Lian’s normal robes, his pale, unblemished throat was on full display.

Xie Lian raised his brows and touched his neck lightly. “Oh, those-“

“I removed them.” A deep voice drawled. “Should I remove you, too?” 

Every single hair on Feng Xin’s body stood on end. A young man in white and red robes stood in the doorway, but as he approached them, his form shifted into one much more similar to the man from the night before. The only difference, now, were the horrifically gaudy red robes and a black eyepatch covering one eye. Oh, and not to mention, the silver scimatar at his side that positively reeked of rancid, murderous qi. Feng Xin had seen that blade before, and he instinctively reached for his bow, only to come up empty. But wait, what had he said? Hua Cheng had removed his fucking shackles?! That simply wasn’t possible. He knew the Ghost King was obscenely powerful, but breaking a shackle placed by Jun Wu was absolutely unheard of. But who else could have possibly done it? If he really was capable of something like that, he was even more dangerous than they thought.

Just as he was about to panic, Hua Cheng strode past him, unconcerned. He leaned over and pressed a kiss to Xie Lian’s temple. Feng Xin just barely pushed down a full-body shiver. 

“Gege,” Hua Cheng said, “I wasn’t aware we were expecting company.”

The murderous intent in his tone would have cowed a lesser man, but Feng Xin was nothing if not stubborn. Or stupid. Gods, was he really as stupid as Mu Qing said he was?

Xie Lian smiled at the ghost warmly, “It’s alright, San Lang. Did they have everything at the market?” 

Only then did Feng Xin notice the basket of vegetables hanging off of Hua Cheng’s elbow. The sheer domesticity of it nearly made him lose it completely. His entire world view had been doing fucking cartwheels for the last 12 hours. 

Hua Cheng nodded and brought the basket to the small kitchenette tucked behind the altar. Feng Xin’s eyes twitched. Yesterday, at about this time, if you would have asked him about Hua Cheng, he would have told you he was the single greatest threat to the heavens, and that he should not be approached under any circumstances. Now, he was watching the ghost king put away groceries. Feng Xin was going to lose his goddamn mind.

Xie Lian seemed to remember than Feng Xin existed, and finally poured his own cup of tea. “Now, Feng Xin, what was it you wanted to talk about? Forgive me, but, I highly doubt you came just to visit.” 

That stung, of course. His meaning was obvious - if he had just wanted to visit, he could have done so at any point over the last 800 years. Hua Cheng seemed to be having a similar thought. He just stood in the kitchen, leaning back against the counter, staring murderously at him. Maybe this was actually a horrible idea.

Feng Xin swallowed thickly. One day, they would talk about it, all of it, but perhaps not today. “Right. Well…it’s about Mu Qing. He, uh…” He stopped short, glancing at Hua Cheng. The ghost merely raised an eyebrow, daring him to continue. 

“Your Highness,” Feng Xin said sheepishly, “Could we, uh, talk in private?”

Hua Cheng laughed, and it sounded like stupid, evil bells. “What, did you finally ruin Xuan Zhen’s cultivation?”

Feng Xin’s eyes nearly popped out of their sockets, and an unstoppable flush washed over his entire face.  “Wh-What?! The fuck! What are you fucking talking about, you fucking -”

But it was too late. Hua Cheng doubled over laughing this time, propping himself up on the counter to keep from falling to the floor. He was shaking so hard that all of his stupid little charms and chains jingled nonstop. “Oh my god,” He wheezed, “I was joking, but I was actually right!” 

Was that a fucking tear in his eye? What the fuck was wrong with this guy?! Why the fuck was he getting so much joy from his misery! Feng Xin wanted to tunnel into the earth and never return. Oh god, what must Xie Lian be thinking?! That was the worst part of all of this. He had planned on hinting at it in one way or another, which was bad enough, but for him to find out like this- it was beyond mortifying.

Fuck all of this. Feng Xin moved to stand, “I’ll be going, it was nice to-” 

But Xie Lian pulled him back down to his seat. The prince certainly did look a little scandalized, but mostly as if he was on the edge of hysteria. “Ha ha ha, Feng Xin, that’s not true is it?” Xie Lian seemed to be begging him to deny it, to set the world back on its axis. Unfortunately, Feng Xin had never gotten the hang of lying to Xie Lian.

Feng Xin looked away, looked anywhere else. He couldn’t say anything no matter how hard he tried. It was answer enough.

“Oh, ha ha ha,” Xie Lian stuttered, voice high, “Thats, ah - I mean, good job? No, that’s not right, I -” He was desperately trying to get a hold of the situation, but only dissolved into more hysterical, awkward laughter. 

Just as he was running out of air, Xie Lian seemed to remember something, and grew substantially more serious. “Is Mu Qing alright?”

Feng Xin cleared his throat, still unable to look at him. “He’s fine. He’s just…weak.”

Hua Cheng clapped sarcastically, “Bravo, Ju Yang.”

Feng Xin shot him a death glare “Not -! Shut the fuck up!” With a steadying breath, he barreled on, “He doesn’t have any spiritual power, I mean. I don’t know if its long term, or if there’s anything I can do to help him.”  There, it was out.

Xie Lian had regained most of his sanity by this point. Oddly enough, he seemed to find Feng Xin’s worry endearing. 

“It’s not forever.” He reassured him, “The most important thing is to start training a new path as soon as possible. It also helps a great deal if…ah…someone can…consistently lend you spiritual energy.” He cleared his throat softly, blushing furiously, “But Mu Qing is a talented cultivator and has a large following. With enough… dedication, his spiritual power will probably return to normal within a few months.”

Feng Xin let out a breath. He’d had this sickening feeling in the back of his mind that he had ruined absolutely everything, that Mu Qing would never forgive him and the memory of their one night together would haunt Feng Xin for the rest of his days.

“Oh,” He breathed, “That’s…good to know.” 

Xie Lian seemed to know what he was thinking, and gave him a genuine smile. “It’s alright. I promise. San Lang, could you hand me-”

“Already on it, gege.” 

Hua Chung walked to the back corner of the shrine and rifled through a small cupboard. He pulled out a sizeable stack of bound tomes and unceremoniously dumped them in Feng Xin’s lap.

“San Lang,” Xie Lian warned, absolutely toothless, “Anyways, these are some alternative paths Mu Qing could consider. Feel free to borrow them for as long as you need.”

Feng Xin bowed his head in thanks.

Hua Cheng bent down and picked up a book with a blood red cover and tossed it onto the top of the pile. “Check that one out first. Thank me later. Actually, you know what? Don’t.” 

Unable to take anymore, Feng Xin actually stood to leave this time, books in hand. “Thank you, Your Highness. I mean it.” He paused, throat feeling oddly tight, “Next time…I really will come to just visit. If it’s alright with you.”

Xie Lian’s placid smile turned a bit wobbly. “I’d like that.”