#whatever souls are made of Hua Cheng's and Xie Lian's are the same

[diedikind]

Xie Lian taking away Lang Qianqiu’s freedom to choose his own path?

i’ve already addressed this in a reblog post but now that i’ve finished book 1 of the revised version i’d like to offer a more comprehensive analysis.

someone pointed out that in the revised version, xie lian seems much more “selfish”, that he is no better than White No-Face because he also lied to Lang Qianqiu to shape him into the kind of person he wanted him to be.

【Lang Qianqiu said sharply, "You still deny it?! For so many years, you've kept me from knowing who my real enemy is, you've deceived me yet made me grow into the person you wanted! To achieve this, you'd rather be thought of as the murderous culprit of the bloody massacre at the Gilded Banquet, allowing me to drive forty-nine nails into your chest and into the coffin! Guoshi, you're really something!"

With every sentence, Xie Lian couldn't argue because it was the truth. So, all he could do was despairingly say, "It's not like that."】 (new scene from revised version)

as i mentioned in my other post, a narrative that weaves its way through tgcf is how xie lian is supposed to be a parental/teacher figure toward lang qianqiu, and that such figures exist to the end of protecting/guiding children; even in modern society research has shown that the adolescent brain doesn’t develop fully until around 25 years of age, insofar as they shouldn’t be given complete free reign over many areas, for example we have laws pertaining to the legal age of driving or the legal age of drinking, we have age ratings for media and put minors dni in our bios… etc. in other words, it is not xie lian’s onus to completely leave lang qianqiu be to figure out his life. of course, lang qianqiu is a couple hundreds years old, but we will stick to the theoreticals of their what their relationship represents.

a brief aside about culture, i think western culture tends to place much more emphasis on individual choice / freedom in general, versus during my time in Chinese fandom nobody thought this was a problem. haha at the risk of sounding like communist propaganda, choice is not always good. for example, Barry Schwartz introduced the concept of the paradox of choice, which illustrates that while a variety of options allows for more freedom and autonomy, it can also lead to greater dissatisfaction, indecision, and paralysis; this is why businesses avoid presenting consumers with a wide array of products or services, because it could overwhelm them and lead them to give up purchasing anything in the end.

xie lian makes a similar argument:

【Indeed, whether the talisman burns could determine the life or death of what's inside the pot. But if the answer was "alive," it would be easy to kill whatever was inside right there and then. If the pot contained a little rabbit, a small demon, or even a human soul, then the gamble wouldn't be fun at all.

Shaking his head, Xie Lian said, "It's not that I'm worried. Of course, I know you wouldn't do such a thing. I just think it's better not to give others the chance to make such a choice.”】 (new scene from revised version)

this relates to the one-cup-of-water-two-people (i have no idea how to translate this properly) problem, in which no matter who you choose to give the water to, no matter which of the Two Paths you choose, it would always feel as if you’ve done something wrong. it’s a zero-sum game. similarly, alluding to the trolley problem, whether you pull the lever or not, you would either be killing someone or leaving others to die.

xie lian’s philosophy, then, is to prevent a situation such as the trolley problem from happening in the first place. he wants to spare the pain of the decision. he wants to eradicate the “two-paths” narrative.

hua cheng embodies the same philosophy. a few years ago, i asked a friend, how do you think xie lian would choose if he were to do the trolley problem, except on one track we have hua cheng, on the other track we have all the common people? and then i realised — hua cheng would probably willingly die for xie lian so he does not have to make the choice.

choice is burdensome.

another thing i want to point out is the popular phrase circulating on the Chinese internet “因为自己淋过雨，所以想给别人撑把伞” (“Having been drenched in the rain myself, I wish to hold an umbrella for others.”), in which there is no “neutral” option; there is no “support others in finding their own umbrellas”. in that sense, xie lian merely acts as a foil to bai wuxiang by doing the opposite of what he did. i do not think mxtx considered the “in-between” option of giving lang qianqiu the freedom to choose.

having finished rereading book 1, i realised that there is a line in it that directly mirrors the above.

【what he has endured enough himself already, he cannot bear to let another go through it as well.】

hua cheng also adds his own perspective to balance things out:

【He also sat down beside Xie Lian and said, "Moreover, if you value [Lang Qianqiu] so much, why can't you trust him?"

Xie Lian lifted his face from his arms. Hua Cheng said lightly, "Trust that since he is the one you've chosen, he will not lose himself in hatred. Even if he once wished to destroy the entire world, in the end, he will do what he must.”】

in the end, linking back to the narrative that xie lian is lang qianqiu’s parental/teacher figure:

【Lang Qianqiu looked as if he wished he could cover his ears: "Why are you lecturing me like this? What gives you the right to act as my master?"

Xie Lian replied, "It won't happen again." Lang Qianqiu was startled, and Xie Lian added, "This is the last time. Faults need fixing, and the rest is up to you to figure out slowly on your own."】

a popular interpretation amongst Chinese fans is that only upon his third ascension did xie lian “truly” ascend. if we read TGCF as a bildungsroman, xie lian starts off as a naive crown prince who matures through these 800 years. in parallel, then, we have just witnessed the inciting incident to lang qianqiu’s character growth arc. this is the beginning of his coming-of-age.

#xie lian #lang qianqiu #tgcf #heaven official's blessing

[silverstark]

The romance between Hua Cheng and Xie Lian even in the way their titles reflect one another. Xie Lian is the Flower-Crowned Martial God, with a sword in one hand and a flower in the other. Hua Cheng is Crimson Rain Sought Flower, the one who makes blood rain but also the one who shields the flower.

#they're just #whatever souls are made of Hua Cheng's and Xie Lian's are the same #HuaLian #TGCF #hello I'm still not ever them and I might never be #I think a lot of people interpret Hua Cheng's kindness as only an act of service toward Xie Lian #but that's a very superficial reading and it misses the point #fate and soulmates and love are all made through choices and internal values #Hua Cheng's devotion is a reflection also of his values and the things he loves about Xie Lian are important to remember

[phoenixkaptain]

I really think there should be a chef au where Xie Lian is an up and coming chef in some little restaurant he owns, and Hua Cheng is like a chef/restaurant reviewer. And like, Xie Lian’s food is garbage, it’s burned and raw at the same time and there are some spices in there that are so mangled that you can’t even tell what it’s supposed to be, and Xie Lian’s restaurant stays open for the sole reason that people like the drinks he mixes because he’s inexplicably a great bartender.

So, Hua Cheng is like an online food blogger type reviewer (go with me, it’ll be funny) and he starts getting all these people saying that he should try this restaurant with the worst food, only the drinks are good, one guy spent three days throwing up because he tried some soup, etc. Hua Cheng is like “I like being cruel, let’s go tear some poor soul apart.” and goes to check out this restaurant.

Imagine his surprise when Xie Lian greets him, being the only person who works at his small restaurant. He sits at the bar that overlooks the kitchen (added because people thought Xie Lian was cooking poorly on purpose and the window allows them to see that it’s just magically terrible, despite him doing everything visually right). Xie Lian is like “What do you do for a living?” because he likes to get to know his customers, his charm is another reason people keep paying him for bad food. Hua Cheng is like, ‘I can’t let this beautiful perfect man know I’m the infamous Crimson Rain (named because people cry tears of blood after his reviews) because how will he ever be convinced to marry me if he knows???’ So he says “I’m a chef, too.”

Xie Lian is like “Oh? You probably won’t like my cooking very much, it isn’t very good.” And Hua Cheng is like “No, no, don’t say that! I’m sure it’s delicious!” And inwardly he’s like ‘I’m very willing to be the housewife in our relationship.’

So Xie Lian makes him food and talks to him and laughs at his jokes and is generally the perfect man despite the frying pan catching on fire twice. He looks really sad as he slides a plate of burnt scrambled eggs (Hua Cheng ordered the breakfast) to his customer. Hua Cheng (utterly smitten) eats the whole plate and asks to try something else. Seeing someone not disgusted, Xie Lian makes his favourite thing to make, which is soup or something like that.

Hua Cheng tries it and immediately tears up because he suddenly remembers Xie Lian as the kind young boy who found him after his parents kicked him out one night and made him soup which had been the first thing he’d eaten in days. Hua Cheng, past version, had eaten the whole pot, telling Xie Lian it was delicious the whole time because it was to a starving eight year old. He remembers that, even back then, baby Hua Cheng had looked at the cheerful older boy and planned to marry him.

Xie Lian does not have mind reading properties, so when he sees Hua Cheng tear up he’s like “???!!! Ohno I’m so sorry I told you it was bad do you want something towash the taste away oh god-“ and Hua Cheng is like “This is the best soup I’ve ever had in my life.” and Xie Lian internally is like ‘You must not have had very many soups.’ Hua Cheng goes home and write a long review about how the food is perfect, you guys are just mean. His audience is like “??? Crimson Rain, did you go to the wrong restaurant???”

And there’s a whole plot with twists or whatever, like Jun Wu is the supplier of most of Xie Lian’s vegetables and he gives him only the worst ones which is why they taste so terrible. Yin Yu is Hua Cheng’s article editor or something similar and is very tired of Hua Cheng continuously trying to post articles that just say “Have you ever seen a man so perfect you cried?” and “!!!!!!” Shi Qingxuan is a baker or something that decides to set up shop in Xie Lian’s little restaurant, bringing his brother and his brother’s two friends with him. Ling Wen is like “You’ve been handling your money wrong, move over, I’m in charge of funds now.” Pei Mingis just there, the hot friend, and attracts a load of new clients by virtue of being hot or something.

Anyway, it all ends with Hua Cheng finally living his childhood dream of marrying Cute Soup Boy and he starts cooking in Xie Lian’s restaurant and everything is great.

#hualian #hua cheng #xie lian #yin yu #shi qingxuan #shi wudu #ling wen #pei ming #chef au #yes i made this whole post just for #the joke of hua cheng giving rave reviews for xie lians terrible restaurant #hualian chef au

[iztarshi]

Identity and Jun Wu

More than the usual amount of spoilers.

*

Jun Wu is a splintered creature. In fact, it’s only in wondering whether “Jun Wu” is the right name to use here that I realise I don’t know his name at all. He was the Prince of Wuyong and White No-Face and Jun Wu, but whatever name he once had is used by no one.

If Xie Lian spends the novel picking up the pieces of his various identities and putting them back together, Jun Wu has been stubbornly tearing himself apart for centuries.

*

Jun Wu

Jun Wu is both his falsest and truest face. It’s the only part of him that isn’t a ghost or curse made of nothing but his own pain and hurt, and yet the benevolence is only a thin cover for the pain and hurt still lurking underneath. It’s a mask that shines so brightly no one can see the flaws. It’s a guise that can keep him safe by not showing any of the things that got him thrown from grace before.

It’s also what he persists as the longest, as he’s forced to admit to the things that are and were part of him it’s the self he absorbs them into and ultimately surrenders as.

*

White No-Face

White No-Face seems to exist for Xie Lian. It’s not a guise that was known to have appeared anywhere previously, and Guoshi himself was unaware it was Jun Wu when he normally keeps track of the ghosts Jun Wu creates. Unlike the Ghost of Yinian Bridge or the Reverend of Empty Words, White No-Face is less an independent existence than simply Jun Wu behind a mask. It might be a clone or a puppet or literally him, or all of those things at different times, but when Jun Wu is revealed as the Prince of Wuyong he starts acting like White No-Face. With no need to fake benevolence this is the personality he reveals.

More than anything White No-Face is the bits of his identity Jun Wu desperately wants Xie Lian to take on - symbolically White No-Face is an empty garment waiting for Xie Lian to inhabit it. From the first he shows Xie Lian’s face behind its mask when Xie Lian rips it away, and Guoshi unknowingly plays into his hands by claiming White No-Face has been created by Xie Lian’s intervention.

Jun Wu wants Xie Lian to understand him, but as someone who has already been trying to throw away parts of himself for a long time he takes it further than that. He tries to both throw his entire history onto Xie Lian and absorb Xie Lian as part of himself by setting Xie Lian up to believe that he himself is the Prince of Wuyong.

*

The Reverend of Empty Words

This was divided out from Jun Wu and gained its own consciousness. It also cloned itself many more times, clones which are implied to be the Venerables of Empty Words, which makes Xie Lian’s contempt for these monsters rather funny. (Although the less funny side is that they don’t bother him because he was already driven to suicide by the original, he’s not going to be upset by clones of clones.)

These things are the embodiment of “Jun Wu doesn’t want anyone to have a good time” and they exist purely to make sure that no one is having one. More seriously, they do what his prophetic dream did and ruin everything with worries for the future.

They’re also very like White No-Face in their methods, especially the Reverend. We see the soul-switching spell expose Shi Qingxuan to Jun Wu’s cat and mouse game in the tunnels and Xie Lian to the Reverend’s methods, and we can see how their reactions are coloured by those similarities.

He Xuan, of course, ate the Reverend of Empty Words... which is interesting, both of the other Supremes contain a bit of Jun Wu. It also doesn’t sound very healthy. Like the mirror in The Snow Queen Jun Wu’s resentment is spread around and may have permenantly altered He Xuan’s personality.

*

The Star of Solitude?

This one doesn’t seem to be Jun Wu literally shedding bits of himself, just him shedding his misfortunes in a similar way to Xie Lian later sheds his luck. Unfortunately he sheds them all onto poor Hua Cheng. But it is intriguing that, first, like He Xuan, Hua Cheng is affected by the Kiln before he enters it. Second, that little Hong-er does hate everyone as a result. Like Jun Wu he’s suffered and only wants everyone else to suffer as much as he has - but an act of kindness is enough to change him where it only enrages Jun Wu.

*

The Ghost of Yinian Bridge

Of all the forms and selves Jun Wu takes on and casts off, this one might be the most purely honest. Most of his forms, even the ones trying to inflict his pain on others, cover up that they’re in pain themselves, but the Ghost of Yinian Bridge is visibly hurting. Pierced by swords, surrounded by flame, unable to believe the human world is anything but hell, it’s terrible and pitiful at once.

Which is where Xie Lian comes in, because he doesn’t just defeat it he’s sorry for it. He doesn’t just defeat it, he plants a flower tree for it, and says the words, “Body in the Abyss, Heart in Paradise,” pitying it for not being able to find peace no matter what it had gone through. Jun Wu can’t just take this from some naive princeling who has no idea what kind of suffering he’s talking about.

But 800 years later they end up in the same place, on a broken bridge with all Jun Wu’s pain out in the open, as Xie Lian defeats him. Once again, now with full understanding of that kind of suffering, Xie Lian is sorry for him and leaves him with an act of kindness.

#tgcf #tgcf spoilers #tgcf identity meta

[zhuhongs]

Upon rereading tgcf, one of the biggest complaints I have is how lackluster all the extra chapters were. literally none of them were good and all contained rlly gross and harmful sentiments (like the amnesia one which.. yea.. or all the things implying xl should get pregnant for hc thus equating gay relationships with hetero ones and playing into the wife thing and just GOD I HATE MXTX) 

There were a lot of little plot points i wish that had been further elaborated on more in the extras as opposed to hualian being ... like that. I had enough. Like mdzs had actaully good extras (minus the incense burners) that were nice side stories that elaborated more on the characters. Like the hook one with the juniors was so cute and i loved seeing them grow more. Or the lotus pod extras omg.. im such a lotus pod extra stan. those were so cute and gave us a lot of good insight into just how lovestruck lwj was during the times when he didn’t see wwx. mxtx should've stuck to those sorta extras in tgcf but NOOO. SO I have a list of so many other more interesting things those chapters couldve been spent on like:

A resolution on He Xuan’s revenge and his character arc. Bc its implied He Xuan is still hanging out and watching over sqx and that taking revenge didn’t fully satisfy him bc ok.. yea shi wudu is dead but he xuans family will never come back. Now what does he have to live for?? i wish we couldve seen a look into his life during the entire ordeal. like a chapter from his perspective while he was posing as Ming Yi  and maybe a look at a conversation btw he xuan and the real ming yi or a chapter after SQX was banished to see what he’s doing now. Also what did he xuan owe hua cheng money for anyways?? Like ik not every little thing has to be explained but I Want to Know. PLEASE more goth boyfriend content now I just wanna see him :,((

a better resolution of yin yu and quan yizhens storyline. im still mad abt how that plot point was split btw books 3 and 5  when it was rlly out of place and  there were other more pressing plot matters and it just rlly deserved more time. Also i thought yin yu died!?!?!? but apparently one of the extras says he’s alive and man... i;m not reading any more of the extras to see that, give me a full yin yu and quan yizhen chapter.. fuck.

a day in the life of the guoshi fangxin or general hua PLEASE especially like one where hua cheng was SO CLOSE to meeting xie lian but had no clue that xie lian was there at the time but the two did smth that inadvertantly helped the other and they still were connected even though they hadnt met omg pls that’d be so nice. like imagine Hua cheng catching a glimpse of the guoshi in public in yong’an while he’s trying to follow some lead that points to xie lian or maybe following a lead to capture qi rong bc he said he knew qi rong was a part of the yong’an stuff and originally thought the guoshi was one of qi rongs pawns. like can you IMAGINE him getting so close. but at the last second he did smth small that impacted xie lian. like they bumped into eachother on the street or smth. god i’d go crazy

OR vice versa.. like a day in the life of the young ghost king hua cheng. Like again, one of my biggest issues was that hua cheng just knew everything and its never really explained how he got all of that info. like yes he’s been alive very long and has eyes and ppl working for him everywhere but like... how did he build that network?? I’d love to see a chapter of young ghost king hua cheng travelling around trying to learn as much as he can abt the world and how it can help bring him to xie lian. and the two maybe are in the same kingdom for a bit and they don’t meet exactly but hua cheng stops some fight or something and helps xie lian indirectly or maybe xie lian is performing on the street in some costume and hua cheng doesn’t recognize him and smiles and gives him a coin or smth. idk i’m just dying for any sorta extra chapter or fic like that. i’m honestly so tempted to write my own but i cant write

also!! we’ve seen how xie lian picks up people down on their luck near him and show them kindness (like banyue, lang ying, xiao ying, he tried to with san lang but we know how that ended lmao) so i’d love to see another little vignette of him doing that on his travels and how every person he meets teaches him smth about life and being a good person and idk, i just think it’d be rlly sweet. i love this facet of his character and feel like we didn’t see enough of it towards the end.

ALSO hua cheng only seems to respect one heavenly official besides xie lian and thats yushi huang.. i assume thats mostly bc she was the only one to help xie lian and let him use the rain master hat to bring water to yong’an. I was thinking maybe when he was a new supreme he had run into trouble and maybe was picked up by the rain master and helped him heal and in return he promised to help protect her village from harm in the future. Like i know a heavenly official wouldn’t cooperate with a ghost like that but yushi huang is different and doesn’t really care about the heavens so i think she would protect him if he could do something to benefit her village. ik this is kinda far fetched but when he first became a supreme I’m sure a bunch of ppl probably tried to mess with him and didn’t rlly believe him to be undefeatable bc he hadn’t proved himself yet also i doubt all his power came overnight. he had to learn how to use it once he escaped the kiln. and some group probably thought they could weaken him somehow. I’m thinking maybe a rlly well formed group of ghosts actually caught him off guard once and he had to retreat and was picked up by the rain master and stayed with her and learned from her a bit. i think it’d be a cool concept also i just rlly want more yushi huang content and i’m on their friendship agenda bc he rlly did seem to actually respect her when she first appeared and i think it’d be cool if the two had some history together.

Also idrc if this was addressed I couldve missed it But!! Did xie lian ever tell Hua cheng that the reason he got the curse shackles and was banished again in the first place wasnt bc jun wu wanted to punish him, but because he requested it. And specifically requested it bc he felt guilty abt letting wu ming take the human face disease and disperse for his sake. So he took the shackles and descended to atone for that?? Bc I dont recall hua cheng learning that bc his soul was already dispersed at that point so it didnt follow him and xie lian didnt say anything so uhhh... someone should tell hua cheng that. Like I dont think xie lian rlly said how much hua cheng meant to him and didnt show him he was loved in grand ways. Like xie lian did always care for bc in other ways but I think if hua cheng learned abt this on screen it wouldve been such a great moment and I'm rlly surprised mxtx didnt address this iirc!?!? Like imagine jun wu telling Hua cheng this in the kiln bc xie lian wouldnt say it himself. Imagine how cool that would be.

Also a small thing adding into the whole young ghost king Hua cheng stuff. Its implied and p much stated that hua cheng isnt his real name. That he likely doesnt have a real name bc his parents died? (It's not clear. I'm still mad at mxtx for not making his childhood clearer). So I'd like to see when and why hua cheng chose that name for himself. The new tgcf ending song kinda hints at its meaning with the lyrics "for you I'd fill a city of flowers" as xie lian is the flower wielding martial god so it's probably inspired by that. Also xie lian saved hua cheng from leaping off the city walls but I'd love to hear him say it bc the implication of his name didnt dawn on me for quite a bit and I dont know if everyone made the connection. Again I sure as hell didnt. So itd be cool to see a chapter that takes place in his past after just ascending as a supreme

Overall I rlly think tgcf had a lot more potential to be even better and a lot of that comes down to fleshing out the side characters and letting hualian have more of a storyline independent of one another. like i know the appeal and message of tgcf is that through love, people can overcome anything, but fuck man. i just wanna see what these two (mostly hua cheng) where like in the absence of each others presence. Part of what I really liked abt mdzs is that we got to see that longing develop btw wangxian when the two weren’t together and how they thought about each other and did things in thei others spirit bc they knew the other wouldve done the same thing. but whatever, mxtx was too consumed by her own unhealthy idea of what devotion and true love looks like but still. i rlly think the extras couldve helped the story be better rather than be fujoshi fuel that i try to bleach from my mind -_-

#tgcf #🐌.txt #long post #text heavy #god its 1am im queuing this for the daytime bc i need yall to read this and scream with me bc these wouldve been such better extra chapters #oh fuck this is 1.3k words ajfaskjfklasfjksd #i should just write my own extras at this point now.. fuck mxtx

[serotocin38]

MXTX Superlatives #11: Best Weapon

Winner: E-Ming (TGCF)

Runner-Up: Guqin Strings (MDZS)

Honorable Mentions: Zidian (MDZS), Ruoye (TGCF), Small Scenario Pusher (SVSSS)

Here, these weapons are not going to be measured by how “powerful” they are necessarily because weapons wouldn’t be weapons if they weren’t powerful. This placement is considering the backstory of the weapon and its uses in the story and such. Onwards!

E-Ming. The best description of E-Ming I can come up with is Luo Binghe’s entire personality squished into scimitar form. E-Ming is a literal puppy that will pout and cry and preen. It has feelings, particularly for Xie Lian, and it just wants to monopolize XL’s attention. And it’s the best cabbage cutter, of course.

Then, there’s also the fact that E-Ming is one of the most terrifying weapons in the TGCF world. Because we were given a slightly unreliable narrator who disregards all warnings and treats E-Ming like the puppy it is, we don’t really get to see much of that terrifying side of E-Ming. But seeing that Hua Cheng used E-Ming in the battle against those martial gods and won, we can assume it’s pretty powerful. 

Then, aside from being a vicious Rottweiler with the heart of a little pup, E-Ming’s creation was pretty heart-wrenching. Though there wasn’t much detail in exactly what happened, the knowledge that HC dug out his eye to forge E-Ming... damn, it hurts a bit. 

Also, I just wanted to pity little E-Ming a little bit for how HC treats it sometimes <3

Next up, the guqin strings. These strings don’t just make calming music or communicate with the dead, oh no. They can literally be used as blades and cut through flesh and bone as easily as any sharpened sword.

These killer guqin strings are also invented by a lady, mind you, so already, that boosts its badass, awesome weapon position. Then, as much as the scene made me want to wail and sob, I give major props to Jin Guangyao for hiding a string under his skin. That’s honestly pretty brilliant, and it sort of nudged the WWX’s public confession thing, but I digress. 

Oh, and those strings killed the XuanWu of Slaughter, so. And wielding a battle guqin is just pretty graceful and badass at the same time.

To our many honorable mentions because there’s so many awesome weapons! Zidian, literally a whip of purple lightning. It crackles, it sparks, it pulls souls out of possessed bodies, it fits perfectly with the Jiang Sect aesthetic, and it was wielded by the most awesome woman in the novel, what else is there to be said?

Ruoye’s little quirks such as having a preference of pretty women over bulky men and being a little bit rebellious just make it adorable. It fights, it saves, it protects, and it wiggles like a good noodle ribbon. A very reliable companion, if I may say so. 

And lastly, though not really a “weapon”, I would like to honor the System’s Small Scenario Pusher. It does a fabulous job flipping the situation on its head and diffusing whatever negative tension is in the air for something more favorable.

#mxtx superlatives #best weapon #e-ming #zidian #guqin #ruoye #small scenario pusher #tgcf #mdzs #svsss #mxtx #writing stuff

[ruoxye]

xie lian and hua cheng body swap!

Xie Lian was hugging something.

It was early morning at Paradise Morning in the ghost realm and Xie Lian felt something in his embrace. Last night he remebered it was he who was in Hua Cheng’s embrace when he fell asleep. Perhaps they had swapped positions throughout the night?

Xie Lian slowly opened his eyes as they adjusted to the morning light streaming in. He looked down and saw a small head resting on his chest. He smiled. Generally it was he who had his head on Hua Cheng’s chest, so it was nice to see a different view of him. Xie Lian felt Hua Cheng wake as the resting head shifted.

Hua Cheng shifted his head to look up. That’s when Xie Lian’s felt his morning grogginess be replaced with horror as he realized it was actually his own head resting on his chest!

—

Of course, it didn’t take the pair long to realize they simply swapped bodies. However, it wasn’t as simple as the Soul Shifting Spell; it was something more permanent. They spent all morning wracking their brains trying to figure out how to swap back. Only when Yin Yu knocked on the chamber’s door did they decide to take a break.

Xie Lian let Yin Yu in. Yin Yu bowed and said, “Chengzhu, there are some high ranking demons that wish to speak with you.”

Xie Lian look to Hua Cheng automatically to see what he had to say, but realized Yin Yu was adressing himself since he was in Hua Cheng’s body.

Hua Cheng, in Xie Lian’s body, innocently smiled and said, “What will you do with them, San Lang.”

Xie Lian covered his face with his hands. Is that really what he looked like when talking to Hua Cheng? He shook off the unease of seeing his body speak without him actually being the one to do and quickly thought of a reply. What would Hua Cheng do in this situation? Usually when Xie Lian is with Hua Cheng in the ghost realm, Hua Cheng disregards all small matters and tends to Xie Lian above all else, much to his chagrin.

Xie Lian made up his mind and stood up straight. “Uh, send them away for now.” He tried to imitate the same confident air Hua Cheng has, but his words came out more like a question than a command.

Yin Yu swept a quick curious glance over Xie Lian and Hua Cheng and without missing a beat nodded his head and left the room.

Xie Lian let out a breath. “Do you think he knew?”

Hua Cheng just shrugged without care.

The pair were tired from the morning’s brain wracking so they decided to just figure out what to do tomorrow.

In the mean time, Xie Lian was having much fun in Hua Cheng’s body. He braided a matching braid on the other side of Hua Cheng’s face and showed it off to Hua Cheng. “What do you think San Lang?”

Hua Cheng let out a faint yet playful smile. “Whatever Dianxia does to my looks, I will always think it looks good. However, now that Dianxia is younger shouldn’t he call me gege?”

Xie Lian didn’t know whether he should laugh or cry. Technically speaking, since he was in Hua Cheng’s body he should address Hua Cheng in Xie Lian’s body as the elder...

“San Lang...” Xie Lian started.

Hua Cheng raised a brow.

“S-san Lang gege.” Xie Lian promptly hid his burning face in his hands. Hua Cheng’s body can blush furiously after all.

—

Xie Lian decided to tryout some of Hua Cheng’s other looks. It took some practice but he was eventually able to seamlessly flit from one look to another. He landed on the “young master” look from when they met each other on the rice straw cart long ago.

“San Lang, remeber when we met on that rice straw cart on the way to Pu Qi village? I had thought you were just some young master out to play...” Xie Lian smiled fondly at that memory which was ingrained deeply in his heart. That day the maples burned red like fire yet the air was crisp and calm.

Xie Lian looked back to Hua Cheng’s face, but he was just sitting and watching quietly with a neutral face.

“San Lang, uh, gege, what’s the matter?”

However, Hua Cheng revealed nothing. “I’m fine.”

Of course Xie Lian knew something was up, so after much coaxing and a final hug that broke the camels back Hua Cheng’s facade cracked. Hua Cheng buried his face in his hands. “I’m sorry dianxia.”

“Why?”

“I’m afraid to move or smile to much. What if I accidently hurt gege’s body? And if I smile too much I may contribute to gege’s wrinkles in the future...”

Xie Lian let out a small laugh. “San Lang, sometimes you are so silly. I have an immortal body.”

“I know, but I would never think about hurting a hair on gege’s body.”

-End

(this whole block of text was just to promote the idea i had: xie lian and hua cheng body swap but hua cheng is afraid of harming xie lian’s body in any way so he just sits there. thanks for reading)

#天官赐福 #tgcf #hob #heaven officials blessing #xie lian #hua cheng #谢怜 #花城 #body swap #headcanon #fanfic #hualian #mxtx #墨香铜臭

[pengiesama]

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

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

Summary:

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

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

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

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

Link: AO3

Read on Tumblr!

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

--

--

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

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

– Coraline, Neil Gaiman

--

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

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

 “And this is…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He reached for another sword.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 --

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ah—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I—”

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

“That’s—”

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

“It’s…it’s just—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 --

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

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

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

“…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Careful,” Jun Wu chided. “Clumsy.”

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

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

“Welcome home!”

“Welcome home!”

“Your highness!”

“Your highness!”

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

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

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

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

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

“I’ll get you a change of clothes—”

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

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

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

Xie Lian began to tremble.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But there was a notable face absent.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 --

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

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

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

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

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

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

An idea came to Xie Lian’s mind.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Tap, tap.

Tap.

Tap, tap.

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

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

Tap, tap.

Tap.

…But, just in case he didn’t…

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

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

BANG. BANG. BANG.

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

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

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

“Head Priest,” Xie Lian said.

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

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

Xie Lian wrote back with his own finger.

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

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

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

Mei Nian Qing wrote a simple phrase in the ice:

I’m sorry.

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

Where are you?

Are you alone?

Is someone watching you?

He’s made copies of my mother and father.

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

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

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

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

“Hold on! I’ll be right there!”

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

your highness

Xie Lian’s fist stopped mid-swing.

your highness your highness your highness

bad ungrateful awful I’m telling

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes indeed,” Hua Cheng agreed.

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

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

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

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

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

Hua Cheng was silent for a long moment.

“…of course,” he finally managed.

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

Then…

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

And? So what?

What’s your point?

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

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

“It’s nothing,” Xie Lian said.

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

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

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

I’ll just wind up disappointing him, too.

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

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

“It’s not. I’m sorry.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jun Wu wore a tired, sad expression.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Incensed, Xie Lian stormed over to the wooden vanity.

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

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

…a completely normal mirror.

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

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

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

“MURDERER! BLACK-HEARTED SINNER!”

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

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

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

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

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

“Gege. Look at me. Gege!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 --

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

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

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

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

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

“We’re not alone,” he said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The false Qi Rong smiled even wider.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“…and then?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Another nod.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 --

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you alright?” Hua Cheng asked quietly.

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

“Gege! Stop joking around!”

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

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

Xie Lian was silent.

“Do you believe me?” Hua Cheng asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“…Head Priest?” he whispered.

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

“Lianlian?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes,” he said.

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

His false mother nodded.

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

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

“…uvvvvv…annnnn….”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“San Lang, get away! Ruoye, return!”

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

“San Lang!” Xie Lian cried.

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

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

“MURDERER!”

“BLACK HEART!”

“SINNER! LIAR!”

The mouths screamed and cursed and screamed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I was…taller…than that…”

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

Smiled like…

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

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

“San Lang,” Xie Lian said, wretchedly.

“I’m here,” he said.

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

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

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

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

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

Jun Wu was not the type to allow these interludes.

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

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

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

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

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

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

There was a great and terrible silence.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He saluted Xie Lian.

Farewell, he mouthed back.  

“Your highness,” murmured Hua Cheng.

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

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

 --

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

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

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

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

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

“It seems so.”

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

“Mmm.”

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

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

“Oh, for the clarity of hindsight.”

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

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

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

 --

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

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

 “San Lang,” Xie Lian said flatly.

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

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

#天官赐福 #tgcf #heavenly official's blessing #tian guan ci fu #hualian #a tenderly crafted fanfiction

[pengiesama]

Celestial Confluence/Cultivation Cross (Fic, TGCF, HC/XL)

Title: Celestial Confluence/Cultivation Cross Series: Heavenly Official’s Blessing (Tian Guan Ci Fu) Pairing: Hua Cheng/Xie Lian

Summary:

All of Heaven has been brought to its knees by the hot new gatcha game, Celestial Confluence/Cultivation Cross. The gods are at each other's throats, and are at the brink of civil war, in pursuit of the rarest of .pngs.

Chaos reigns. And it is most emphatically Hua Cheng's fault.

Link: AO3

Check out my commission info here.

Read on Tumblr!

“...so you see, profits are up from last quarter, and attendance at the gambling halls is at an all-time high,” said the bird demon at the front of the conference room. “Our Lord’s bold strategic moves in this fiscal year have broken previous records into such dust.”

“Master’s business acumen is unmatched,” stated the hog demon to the horned woman seated next to him at the polished wood table. The horned woman nodded at this sage assessment, and the rest of the room murmured in agreement.

“Unmatched.”

“Unparalleled.”

“Who other than a Supreme could wield such horrible power?”

Suddenly, the demon business consultants found their voices silenced. They could not utter a peep -- it was as though an invisible hand had reached down their gullets to pluck out their tongues. But there was little mystery to who had performed such a feat. A perceptible dark aura had descended upon the room, and at the center of it all was the object of their praise and adulation: their Lord himself, Hua Cheng. Despite their acclaim, despite the numbers from last quarter’s gross profits displayed prominently on the overhead projector in a neat, color-coordinated bar graph, Hua Cheng’s expression was grave. He swirled red wine in a goblet of fine, translucently white porcelain.

After a long and deliberate silence to build up an appropriate sense of dread, Hua Cheng spoke.

“Not good enough.”

He hurled the porcelain goblet against the wall, splattering its contents -- looking to all the world as red blood and white bone, a scene of spectacular violence. Hua Cheng snapped his fingers and a nearby handmaiden handed him an identical goblet. Hua Cheng swirled it again, once, twice, before he spoke once more.

“Profits are up,” Hua Cheng repeated, mockingly. “An all-time high. Meaningless. I need more than that.”

His consultants said nothing, out of terror. And also out of still not being able to speak because Hua Cheng stole their voices. Hua Cheng seemed to remember this part only belatedly, as he waited a little bit too long for a response. He rolled his good eye, sighed in frustration, and gave the bird consultant his voice back.

The bird consultant knew he had a role to play in this scene, and wasted no time embracing it. “M-my lord!” he coughed, trying to get his tongue back in the right place in his throat. “Whatever do you mean?”

Hua Cheng threw another goblet against the wall, and accepted its replacement in his waiting hand.

“I have built an empire on cards and dice. However, there remains the need to attract more clientele. New clientele. Clientele that think themselves too good, too noble to enter my gambling halls. Tempt them, ensnare them, enslave them -- only then will I approach the profits needed for my ultimate goal.”

Their Lord’s riches were unparalleled -- truly, the stuff of legends. Mountains of gold, oceans of jewels. Jurisdiction over the nether realm, command over an army of souls and a bottomless abyss of power. Wealth that even the richest of kingdoms could only ever dream of. To lust for more and more was the nature of demons, to be certain. But their Lord’s aspirations seemed to be approaching the limits of reality itself.

“Such devious and lofty ambition is surely within my lord’s reach,” said the bird consultant, with utter sincerity -- for it was a simple truth that everything was within reach for their lord, the king of the ghosts, the lord of the demons, the terror of the heavens. “But does my lord already have something specific in mind?”

Hua Cheng was idly throwing goblet after goblet at the wall, clearly bored of the meeting. “I do. I don’t care about your input, and I don’t know why I pay you or why I have these meetings. You’re all dismissed. Bye.”

The demon consultants found their tongues forcibly returned to their mouths, and they quietly filed out of the room, trying to reattach them properly. It was no use, and was entirely unwise, to inquire any further into their lord’s plans.

After all, surely, they would find out soon enough.

--

Xie Lian was used to being out of the loop on the latest trends in Heaven. It didn’t really bother him -- he was just too old to keep up with this gossip or that fashion trend or that new joke, especially when it was sure to be old hat in a week or less. What’s more, it was always so awkward trying to fit in. He distinctly remembered the pain on Shi Qing Xuan’s face as he tried to explain to Xie Lian why that picture of a frog puppet on fire was relevant to the current conversation in the heavenly array. Xie Lian still didn’t understand. Why would someone want to set a puppet on fire? It seemed like a perfectly good puppet. He probably could have put on a street performance with it.

“It’s just like -- an expression! It’s you! You’re all excited and on fire and you’re the frog puppet!” Shi Qing Xuan explained, in increasingly desperate tones.

“I’m not a frog puppet,” Xie Lian said. “And I don’t want to be on fire. It hurts, trust me.”

Shi Qing Xuan lowered his head to the table and buried himself under his voluminous silken sleeves. “You are the least cash money person I have ever met.”

“Sorry,” Xie Lian said. “I am the trash god, you know.”

In any case, Xie Lian’s willful ignorance of popular trends allowed him to live a peaceful -- if uncool -- life. But as he was soon to discover, one cannot escape from the cold, clammy grasp of popular culture entirely.

Xie Lian didn’t remember why he’d needed to visit Heaven, that day. Perhaps he’d needed to get some holy water from the celestial stream, perhaps he’d needed to gather herbs to make medicine, perhaps he was just feeling masochistic and wanted to go to a place where everyone deliberately ignored him. Whatever the reason, it was as though he had stepped into the realm of the damned.

Gods stumbled down the streets, mumbling to themselves as they tapped away at glowing screens that floated in the palms of their hands. Cries of joy and cries of despair echoed from the palaces and alleyways. All around him, Xie Lian saw faces twisted by anguish, by ecstasy, by madness -- still more with eyes that were utterly dead to the world. Xie Lian almost thought that he had made a wrong turn, and had landed in the entertainment district of the Ghost City by mistake. But no. This was Heaven, but somehow, it had become overrun with the unmistakable aura of hell.

Surely no one would have blamed Xie Lian if he had simply turned around and left. But alas, he never did know how to leave well enough alone. Xie Lian hastened to the Windmaster’s mansion, hoping against hope that Shi Qing Xuan was still in possession of his full faculties...or as full faculties as could be expected from such a devoted follower of hot trends. It took a few knocks, but eventually, Shi Qing Xuan answered the door. Xie Lian was disheartened to see that he (well, currently she, for the present moment) had that same glowing screen in the palm of her perfectly manicured hand; however, Shi Qing Xuan’s expression was still bright and cheery, her eyes still clear. With any luck, she still had enough strength of will left to answer questions.

“Just in time!” Shi Qing Xuan said cheerily, dragging Xie Lian in by his wrist. “I’m about to stream my next few dozen ten-rolls. You can be my guest commentator! Ming-Xiong and I have a channel, you know, and we can always use guest commentators, because Ming-Xiong doesn’t really talk, he just eats into his microphone even though we’re not a mukbang stream except when it’s Thursday and we’re a mukbang stream. We have a podcast, too, did you know that?”

“No,” Xie Lian said. “I didn’t.”

“Well, if you stick around, you can be a guest on that too!” Shi Qing Xuan said cheerfully. “Come come, sit here so the cameras can see you.”

Xie Lian settled down awkwardly, watching as Shi Qing Xuan attached her glowing screen to a strange setup. Ming Yi didn’t seem to acknowledge his presence at all, and continued to engage in the activity that he had been partaking in since they entered the room, which was slurping noodles extremely loudly into a microphone. A large screen displayed on one of the walls, showing the camera footage of the three of them in the room, and showing a scrolling feed of the conversation taking place in the heavenly array -- as well as a running tally of the merits that were being tossed their way. Xie Lian was extremely puzzled as to what they were doing that merited...merits. Every time Ming Yi made an especially loud slurp or finished another bowl of noodles, a new wave of donations pinged onto the screen. Pictures of that frog puppet kept popping up in the chat, in new and strange situations.

Frog puppets. Noodles. Podcasts. Heaven transforming into hell. And Xie Lian could do nothing but watch.

“Hey everyone! We’ve got a special guest today; he’ll be chatting with us while I whale for my new outfit card in Celestial Confluence/Cultivation Cross!”

“You’re doing what to a whale?” Xie Lian asked, regretting the question when it wasn’t even fully out of his mouth.

Shi Qing Xuan laughed uproariously, then stopped, seeming to realize from previous experience that Xie Lian wasn’t joking. However, instead of having a swooning fit over Xie Lian’s uncoolness as she usually did, she seemed to have the scent of something interesting. She scooted in close, closer, closer. Xie Lian fought the urge to bolt.

“Xie Lian. Your highness. Lemme ask you this. Do you know what Celestial Confluence/Cultivation Cross is?”

“Absolutely not,” Xie Lian said.

“He doesn’t know!” Shi Qing Xuan crowed with glee, clapping her hands in delight. “He doesn’t know at all! Your highness, it’s only the most popular game in the Heavens right now. Or like, ever. You seriously haven’t heard of it?”

“Not at all,” Xie Lian said. He looked around for anything that resembled a game board. “It’s a game? Where are the game pieces?”

Shi Qing Xuan gestured with a flourish to the screen display, her sleeves fluttering like leaves in the wind with the motion. “You’re looking right at them, your highness.”

On the screen, there was...a series of pictures of Shi Qing Xuan, in a dizzying variety of different outfits. Shi Qing Xuan pointed to each one, proudly.

“This is me in my travelling robes, and this is me when I’m feeling a little sassy and want to go out incognito dressed as a simple but also beautiful mortal cultivator, and this is me except I’m a schoolgirl, and oh, there’s me when I’m a schoolboy too, and this is me on a day out at the beach in a cute polka-dot bikini and couture sunglasses and kicky little high heels, and this is me as a Santa Claus -- watch out or else you’ll be on my naughty list, Ming-Xiong!”

Ming Yi had nothing to say to that except another loud slurp. Another torrent of merits pinged on the screen.

“And this is me as a sexy cat burglar, and this is me as a famous idol singer, and this is me as a dazzling bride, and this is me as a star athlete, if you’ll notice the diamond-studded booty shorts, and this is me as a pastry chef, and--”

“Windmaster,” Xie Lian interrupted, seeing that Shi Qing Xuan was not about to stop any time soon. “Would you be so patient as to explain to me how one plays with...such game pieces as these?”

Shi Qing Xuan squinted at the screen, frowning. “...I dunno, I just pick whatever outfits I’m in the mood for and then let the auto-battle option do the rest. Anyway, this is another idol outfit, but it’s from a different collab and in THIS one you can see that I’m wearing striped panties--”

“Is there an aim to the game?” Xie Lian prodded gently, trying to keep Shi Qing Xuan on...some sort of track that didn’t just involve her showing off her pretend closet for the next hour. “Does one battle against any sort of opponents?”

“Ugh, you martial gods and your one-track minds,” Shi Qing Xuan sighed and shook her head. “Yes, I guess you fight monsters and stuff. And like, you can join a team with people on your friend list and take on raid battles with them -- those are like, battles with really strong opponents. And once you kill ‘em you get prizes.”

Xie Lian gave a polite “hm.” He supposed he could see the appeal of practicing strategy with such a...low-impact method, but he wasn’t convinced it would impart any real-world benefits when it came to actual combat. He didn’t become a martial god by sitting inside playing xiangqi, after all.

“There’s a story.” Ming Yi had finally diverted his attention from his noodles. He cleared his throat, and squared his jaw, clearly itching to say more. “In the game.”

Shi Qing Xuan gestured wildly with her fan. “Yeah, that too! In the idol collab there was a WHOLE story about me and Ming-Xiong and I forget who else teaming up with a bunch of mortal girls who were desperate to save their school from closing, so they offered up a prayer and--”

“The MAIN story,” Ming Yi cut in. “Is about a sect of cultivators out to save humanity from a prophecy of destruction. They summon the aid of the gods to help in their battle, and along the way, they encounter many twists and turns and eventually they discover that the prophecy came from a mysterious race of aliens from beyond the stars who wish to sacrifice humanity in a crucible to split off the timeline, but in actuality this already happened millennia ago, or maybe millennia in the future if you think about it laterally, or maybe it happens in a cycle or all at once, but whatever the case may be the heroes must find a way to unite the True Timeline with the Dark Timeline, but which timeline is real? What will become of our heroes when the timelines are merged? Also the main character cultivator who’s kind of a blank slate but not really if you play the sub-scenarios has an evil twin or possibly an alternate-reality clone who can summon the power of the demon kings and it’s not clear if he’s working with the aliens or a rival cultivation sect or if he’s just a rogue agent out to sow chaos and destruction--”

Shi Qing Xuan started slurping noodles as loud as she possibly could, and the noise combined with the rush of pinging merits drowned out Ming Yi as he continued to confuse and vex everyone who heard him. Fuming, Ming Yi returned to his task of eating his feelings.

“Anyway,” Shi Qing Xuan said, daintily wiping her mouth, careful not to smear her lip rouge. “You get it now, your highness?”

“A bit,” Xie Lian said, lying through his teeth to avoid having it explained further.

“Great! Now, you get all these cute little cards by drawing for them in a lottery, and you can either grind for free game currency by toiling away on tasks...or you can just buy currency and draw until you get everything you want!”

Shi Qing Xuan’s tone clearly showed which method of cultivation she preferred. Still, when it came to matters of luck and lottery, it was best for Xie Lian to not get involved at all.

“You’ll have to excuse me, Windmaster, but I wouldn’t want to upset your fortune by staying here. I wish you and your whale the best of luck in…” He gestured vaguely. “...cultivation?”

“Nononono, stay! C’mon, did you think I didn’t remember about your Thing when I invited you in?” Shi Qing Xuan lunged forward and dragged Xie Lian back down to sit on the colorful silk cushions. “It’s so BORING doing this with just Ming-Xiong to keep me company -- it’ll totally be a hoot to see how bad our rolls are with you in the room! I’ll just draw for my new outfit later. It’s for the ballet event, by the way.”

“Oh,” said Xie Lian.

“I’m a swan princess,” Shi Qing Xuan elaborated. “Cursed by a dark wizard to force me to be his bride. Bird by day, fair maiden by moonlight. And only a kiss from a prince can save me!”

“I see,” said Xie Lian.

“Odette dies at the end of that ballet,” Ming Yi noted.

“Nuh-uh!” Shi Qing Xuan shot back. “The wizard turns into a big ugly monster and the prince shoots him and then the prince cries on her body and stuff and she’s alive somehow! And she’s a human again but she can still turn into a swan for all the sequels. There was a turtle and a penguin or something too.”

Ming Yi stared at Shi Qing Xuan with a mouthful of noodles, and Shi Qing Xuan took this as a victory, somehow. With a flourish, she presented her glowing screen to Xie Lian. There was so much going on that Xie Lian didn’t even know what he was looking at. Beautiful fairies with petal wings, with butterfly wings, fluttered here and there, glowing orbs and blooming flowers decorated banners encouraging players to “draw now!” And surely players had a glut of choices to draw from. There was a banner with Shi Qing Xuan pouting and winking at the camera, there was a banner with Feng Xin and Mu Qing facing each other down with bow and spear in hand, there was even a banner with the Rain Master’s loyal ox assistant...wearing a black blindfold, white wig, and a short, frilly black dress. (“Geez, is that Nier collab still going on?” asked Shi Qing Xuan.)

Shi Qing Xuan tapped on one of the banners, and pointed to a glowing button on the bottom of the screen. A set of eight fairies fluttered their wings, just waiting for their cue to pull back the curtain and reveal what awaited behind it.

“Press the button,” beseeched Shi Qing Xuan, wriggling in place. “Press it, press it, c’mon, your highness!”

“It’s your money on the line,” Xie Lian said, simply, and tapped the screen.

A lavishly-animated cinematic played on the screen. The fairies swirled around the white-clad cultivator character, who raised their sword to the sky -- causing the clouds to split with a crack of thunder. Rainbow light filled the screen, and energetic strings and drums added to the assault on the senses.

“Oooh!” Shi Qing Xuan clapped her hands in excitement. “Rainbow clouds! You got me at least one ultra-rare card out of that, your highness! I think your luck’s finally turning around!”

“Maybe it’s just that his luck’s so bad that it got confused and looped around,” Ming Yi said.

Shi Qing Xuan nodded thoughtfully. “Yeah, honestly, that’s more likely.”

“I won’t exactly argue,” Xie Lian said. “But I must protest.”

The cinematic finally ended, and the results of the draw displayed on the screen. Xie Lian squinted, a bit confused at what he was seeing. Shi Qing Xuan and Ming Yi’s jaws had both dropped to the floor; struck into speechlessness by the outcome. But the silence was quite brief. Shi Qing Xuan let out a shriek that rattled the windows and had the microphones panging with horrible feedback.

“THEY DO EXIST! YOU DO EXIST!” Shi Qing Xuan leapt onto Xie Lian, shaking him by the shoulders. “NO ONE’S EVER MANAGED TO FIND YOU BUT YOU JUST FOUND YOU! FOR ME! LIVE! ON MY STREAM!”

Xie Lian briefly glanced at the array chat, which was absolutely exploding with expressions of excitement, of disbelief, of frog puppets. All over -- him? Xie Lian didn’t understand. Least of all because Shi Qing Xuan was making no sense at all and was no longer able to control the pitch of her voice. It was rapidly approaching levels that only dogs could hear.

The roll he’d made was impressive, evidently, by the game’s standards. He’d figured out that much. But...all the cards were just...him. Him in various outfits. There he was in his plain white robes and straw hat, dangling his bare feet in a stream while animated flower petals drifted around him and Ruoye twirled about his ankles. There he was as the flower-crowned martial god, wielding Fang Xin and flinging his golden mask aside as he reached into the air as if to catch something. There he was, holding his hat to his head and smiling over his shoulder at the camera, reaching out his hand as if to beseech the viewer to take it. There he was, in light and colorful summer robes, dancing under lantern light to the beat of the festival drums. There he was, face half-hidden behind the hood of a voluminous wool-lined cloak, warming his hands on a mug of tea as snow swirled around him. There he was, as -- as a bride, gazing demurely up at the camera with blushing cheeks and parted lips as his mystery groom drew back his veil…

“Um,” Xie Lian said. “You...you don’t have to use any of these. As game pieces. In fact, please don’t.”

Shi Qing Xuan briefly stopped screaming directly in Ming Yi’s ear long enough to whirl around, wild-eyed. She flashed a terrifying grin at him.

“I am the only person ever to have gotten even one card of you, let alone ten,” Shi Qing Xuan said. “I am going to show off so much.”

“These cards have amazing stats,” Ming Yi was murmuring to himself. Excitement was coloring his normally-expressionless face. “They’re just broken. They’ll revolutionize the meta. I’ll have to update the wiki; all the literature gods are going to be SO pissed that I got to it first…okay, the game crashes when you try to equip the Chef card, I’ll list that as a bug...”

Shi Qing Xuan snapped her fingers at Ming Yi, and Ming Yi wordlessly handed the glowing screen back to her. They were both staring at Xie Lian with expressions of determination, of hunger. Xie Lian’s eyes scanned the room, looking for the best escape route.

“Your highness,” Shi Qing Xuan said, voice dripping with sweetness. She offered the screen with both hands, and inched closer, closer. “Won’t you roll for us again? Once, twice more, maybe?”

Which would turn into thrice more, which would turn into him being locked in the mansion’s basement for the next month. Xie Lian had no talent for fortune-telling, but he wasn’t blind to where this was going. Those windows looked extremely breakable, surely it would only take a single kick. They were up rather high, however, and Xie Lian couldn’t afford to land wrong and be hobbled with the Windmaster in hot pursuit -- and, from the array’s continuing reaction, perhaps all of Heaven would be only steps behind as well --

Suddenly, there was an announcement on the screen, heralded by the rumble of drums. Shi Qing Xuan and Ming Yi were distracted enough for Xie Lian to start creeping towards the door to make a stealthier escape.

“It’s…a flash event! A limited-edition raid!” Shi Qing Xuan read off the screen, with growing excitement. “‘A Raid for the Strongest and the Prettiest Only’ -- Ming-Xiong, that’s us, that’s us, it’s only us, right?”

“Obviously,” Ming Yi said, rolling his eyes. He summoned his own glowing screen.

“Tell the rest of the guild to get online! Right now!”

“No need. We’ve got ten secret weapons in our deck. Lead off with the one of him in the teahouse waitress outfit, that’s a buffing card, then swoop in with the pincer of the orchestra card and the one of him in the bunny ears, then mop up whatever’s left with that overly-horny one of him in the river flashing his ankles…”

The raid had apparently begun, and to Xie Lian’s surprise, his cards really did seem like they were useful...or as far as he could tell, they were useful. They were easily cutting through the little green goblin sprites that advanced across the screen, and there were a lot of loud noises and flashing colors. It covered his escape quite nicely, and Xie Lian was able to creep out of the mansion and back onto the heavenly avenues without being stuffed into a sack and imprisoned in a locked room, to tap a screen until his finger fell off.

The rest of Heaven was under the same thrall that had swept Shi Qing Xuan and Ming Yi away -- they stood motionless in place, or paced in circles, furiously tapping and swiping away at their screens. The raid had apparently interrupted a real-life brawl between Feng Xin and Mu Qing, and they lay slumped against each other for support, bruised and bloodied and clutching their screens, as they battled for the title of Strongest and Prettiest.

It was truly outstanding. Whoever was behind this game now held control over Heaven -- surely, an entire army could leisurely stroll down the streets and not be confronted by a single god, so engrossed they were in their virtual world. Xie Lian briefly wondered if Jun Wu was a fan, too. He imagined a horde of demons sauntering into the hall that housed the throne of Heaven, and pushing Jun Wu off of it with a single finger as he poked away at his screen. Xie Lian shuddered. Those thoughts were probably some form of blasphemy.

Who could manage this kind of feat? Who was cunning enough? Skilled enough? Audacious enough?

There was only one possible answer, and luckily, Xie Lian had a standing invitation to dinner with him any time he pleased.

--

“San Lang,” Xie Lian said, bowing at the entrance to Hua Cheng’s study. “Please forgive the intrusion.”

Hua Cheng’s expression was warm and welcoming as he rose from his desk to greet Xie Lian at the door.

“My home is always open to you. But to what do I owe the pleasure of a surprise visit? I haven’t had the time to prepare any treats for us, nor the time to prepare my heart for seeing gege’s face and hearing his voice.”

“Oh, stop,” Xie Lian said, waving off Hua Cheng’s teasing. “I just wanted to...lay low here, for a little while. If it’s not too much trouble.”

“Not at all.” Hua Cheng’s eye was shining, and his expression was warm as he regarded Xie Lian. He was certainly in a pleasant mood today; Xie Lian hoped his unannounced visit wouldn’t dampen things. “I’ll have a guest room prepared, and we’ll have a feast tonight -- I can have a bath drawn for you while you wait, and I have many fragrant oils I can comb into gege’s hair while he relaxes--”

“Have you heard of a game called Celestial Cultivation Conference?” asked Xie Lian.

“I could rename it to that if gege finds Celestial Confluence/Cultivation Cross too unappealing,” Hua Cheng said. “We could discuss it after we settle on which oil you prefer.”

“Ah,” Xie Lian said. “So you are the mind behind that game. It’s causing quite the crisis in Heaven right now.”

“Oh yes,” Hua Cheng said, his eye crinkling as he smiled. “I know. Almond oil?”

“And you’re responsible for all those strange outfit cards.”

“I outsource some of the art to trusted assistants,” Hua Cheng said. “Though I take care of the most important art personally. Coconut oil?”

Xie Lian eyed him warily. “...and you’re responsible for the game’s, ah, story?”

Hua Cheng made a face. “Ah, your highness, please don’t remind me. No, I outsourced that nonsense too, but I fear I should have paid more attention when the ghostwriter submitted it for approval. No one plays this thing for the story but one has to have standards.”

Xie Lian turned this thought over in his mind. The corner of his mouth twitched. “...ghostwriter?”

Hua Cheng bared his teeth in a wide grin, and Xie Lian snorted before smacking him on the arm lightly. In truth, he didn’t blame Hua Cheng for the...situation in Heaven, nor could he really blame the game itself. No one was ever forced to participate in any of Hua Cheng’s various business ventures. There never any trickery, any unfairness -- Hua Cheng clearly found it far more entertaining to watch as people leapt into his stewpot of their own free will; motivated by greed and pride and vanity and jealousy and other such dark drivers of the human condition. And this new game of his seemed to bring out all of said emotions in spades.

“Rose oil,” Hua Cheng declared with an air of finality. “Its fragrance will suit you. I’ll ring for bath water--”

“Ah!” Xie Lian clapped his hands together. “There were workers here digging a hot spring the last time I visited, yes? I asked them what they were working on. Have they finished?”

Hua Cheng’s eyebrows rose, and he pouted briefly. “...yes. That was supposed to be a special surprise. I haven’t finished arranging it to receive gege yet.”

Xie Lian’s shoulders drooped. “Ah...I understand, I’m sorry for being so forward. I can’t remember the last time I’ve had a nice soak. And you mentioning oils reminded me how lovely it is to soothe sore muscles with a massage after a long dip in the springs...”

A pulse of energy palpably resonated through the manor’s structure, nearly knocking Xie Lian off his feet.

“Actually, I forgot, it’s arranged right now,” Hua Cheng said hastily. He rubbed at his arm where Xie Lian had swatted him earlier. “Did I happen to mention that my arm has been very sore lately?”

Xie Lian tutted and shuffled in to take Hua Cheng’s wrist in one hand, and his elbow in the other, flexing the arm carefully to check for stiffness. The floodgates had been opened, and now Xie Lian would talk about health and wellness until physically restrained. “Now, San Lang, you can’t ignore your body like that. If you’re sore or stiff, then you should visit a doctor.”

Driven on by an earnest and entirely innocent passion for Hua Cheng’s well-being, Xie Lian felt his way up Hua Cheng’s bicep with one hand, checking for muscle knots and tender spots.

“I don’t feel anything particularly off, but that doesn’t mean that you’re not hurting. It does mean that I’ll have to give you a more general workup instead of just targeting your arm, though, since I’m not sure of the source of the problem. Will it bother you if I massage your neck and back? Perhaps your thighs and calves, too. Are there any sensitive spots I should avoid?”

Hua Cheng’s expression was blank, and he had a faraway look in his eye. “...his highness may...workup wherever pleases him…”

Xie Lian smiled. “You’re a model patient, San Lang. Fetch that rose oil you mentioned? It’ll suit you, too.”

And so, profits that year broke all previous records, especially after the surprise release of the Hot Springs Set; the most overly horny collection yet in the hottest app on the market. From the creator that brought you My Sword Boyfriend and Rabbit Turf War, download Celestial Confluence/Cultivation Cross today!

--

“Hey. Hey. Crimson Rain Seeks Flower.”

“...”

“I’m way too cute and way too annoying to ignore so I know you heard me! So, Crimson Rain Seeks Flower. As my third-best friend--”

“That is an exceedingly unfortunate sentiment if true, Windmaster.”

“--as my third-best friend, I think you owe me the full scoop on what you’re doing with all this dough you’ve been raking in. C’mon, c’mon. I just wanna make sure you’re investing it wisely!”

Hua Cheng mulled things over for a moment, then pulled a small, elegant notebook from his pocket.

“Investments for the future. Savings accounts to ensure our children receive the best education. Retirement funds -- I wish to be able to eventually devote myself entirely to serving at Qiandeng Temple, you see, and to pass off the reins of the business to one of the children who proves to have a head for it. And before any of that,” Hua Cheng continued. “Wedding planning is quite expensive and tiring indeed. Choosing gowns, choosing flowers, choosing menus for dinner and lunch and brunch and tea and dessert. Bringing together all the guests on my guest list has proven to be quite the headache in and of itself.”

Shi Qing Xuan peeked at the list. “...what’s a ‘Hatsune Miku’? And a ‘Beyonce’?”

Hua Cheng rolled his eye and sighed at Shi Qing Xuan’s lack of culture. “The artists performing at the reception will hail from dimensions far and wide. Which brings us to another item proving to be quite expensive; researching interdimensional travel. Once that’s settled, we’ll be able to finalize the guest list and start looking for a patissier capable of bringing my cake design into reality.”

Hua Cheng smiled at Shi Qing Xuan warmly, and Shi Qing Xuan hesitantly smiled back, unsure of how to react to this sudden outpouring of Crimson Rain’s most secret desires. Hua Cheng snapped his fingers in Shi Qing Xuan’s face, and after a split-second, the Windmaster sighed and slumped over.

“And you won’t remember a word of that when you wake up, because I know you’ll run that mouth of yours and spoil the surprise for gege,” Hua Cheng finished. “I just know he’ll love Miku.”

#天官赐福 #tgcf #heavenly official's blessing #tian guan ci fu #hualian #a tenderly crafted fanfiction