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Xie Lian is, quite honestly, in a flap.
Not because of any heaven related drama (for once), nor because of any uproar in the ghost realm (the last time that happened, he found himself caught up in a festival that he really had not meant to be caught up in, and still has the aches to prove it). No, this particular conundrum was much closer to home, and quite frankly, twice as anxiety inducing as any petty dispute between gossipy heavenly officials.
Hua Cheng’s birthday is coming up, and Xie Lian is at an absolute loss as to what to gift him.
What does one give to a man who has every material possession in the three realms, and the means to acquire more if he so chooses? Xie Lian has spent days agonising over it—ever since the little fox ghost from the market had let it slip.
“ Little Fox, what are all these paper lanterns for?”
“For the festival next week!”
“Festival?”
“Yep, yep! We paint them with our hearts greatest desires and then burn them, and if we’re lucky like our Hua Chengzhu they’ll come true!”
“That’s a noble tradition. What is the festival celebrating?”
“Hua Chengzhu’s birthday, of course! And this is the first one since his most noble and honoured husband has been with him, so everyone is making extra lanterns, because we’re going to celebrate extra hard and pray that the luck comes true just like it did for Hua Chengzhu.”
“How…how lovely! Please excuse me…”
Hua Cheng had not made a single mention of it. And he hadn’t helped when Xie Lian returned from that little outing either, simply remarking that his birthday no longer mattered to him because the most important day on the calendar is every day Xie Lian is by his side.
As sweet as that sentiment is, Xie Lian still wants to celebrate! And now he only has a few days to come up with a gift!
Asking Hua Cheng what he would like yields the same result as asking him why he hadn’t mentioned his birthday was approaching.
“There is no gift in the world that Gege could give me that would surpass the gift of waking up to your smile every morning.”
Xie Lian’s cheeks heat up just thinking about it, and he slaps his hands over them to try and hide the flush. His husband really is too sweet for words sometimes.
But sweet words won’t make getting him a birthday gift any easier!
So he agonises over it like he hasn’t agonised over anything for quite a number of years, trying to wheedle thoughts and ideas out of Hua Cheng to no avail, and brainstorming endlessly until his ideas become increasingly ridiculous. Hua Cheng tells him not to worry about it; that he never really celebrated his birthday and that he doesn’t consider the day he was born his birthday anyway, so there’s no point stressing himself out over it. Xie Lian hears the unspoken words there—the implicit understanding that Hua Cheng’s birth was riddled with unpleasant memories of being alive and orphaned, and that he doesn’t like those dark reminders, but Xie Lian considers that even more reason to celebrate it.
What could be better than erasing all of those old, painful memories with new, happy ones? Why not make Hua Cheng’s birthday something good for him—something he could think of fondly and with warmth rather than bitterness? The rest of the ghost realm was celebrating; why not join in and turn a miserable day into a good one?
One way or another, Xie Lian is going to do it.
Even if it takes him a thousand years, he’s going to slowly erase all of those bad birthday memories and replace them with good ones.
…First, he has to think of a gift.
And sitting in Paradise Manor trying to come up with ideas on his own is not really going to yield productive results. Xie Lian knows that Hua Cheng will probably like whatever miserable thing he comes up with, because he’s Hua Cheng and he’s just like that, but Xie Lian doesn’t want to just give him anything. He wants to give him something sweet and thoughtful, that shows he really tried. Sitting around on the futon by himself while Hua Cheng is off seeing He Xuan is only going to get him nowhere.
So he decides another visit into the market is in order.
Many of the ghosts in the market know who Xie Lian is by now. At least, they know he exists, as rumours spread that the Supreme Ghost King had finally found his beloved after centuries of waiting, but they don’t actually know what said beloved looks like. Xie Lian hasn’t really ventured out with Hua Cheng much, both of them preferring to keep to themselves while in the City. And when Xie Lian does wander out, he looks so plain and nondescript that most of the citizens (save those who do actually know who he is) still think he’s just another lost soul.
This semi-anonymity means that Xie Lian is able to venture out of Paradise Manor with relative ease, and can work his way through the bustling market without worry of being either targeted or aggressively worshipped (and honestly, he’s half inclined to think the latter is worse). So it’s easy for him to edge his way into the heart of the busiest district, where the lantern painting is in full swing and the crowds are exuberant.
He’s certain he’ll get some kind of idea, one way or another.
The market is endlessly busy at this time of the evening. The food-stalls are packed with hungry patrons looking for their night time meal, and the shop-keeps selling wares are calling out to the passers-by hoping to make a sale. The bath house is overflowing with patrons, all of them eager to spend a little time in the ghost realms most famous district and relax after a long day. All around, lanterns are being lit and ghost fires bounce across the heads of the crowds—some of them as mute as a beggar without a tongue, and others giggling and laughing as they ruffle the hair of their unsuspecting counterparts.
One such ghost fire dances around Xie Lian’s hair for a few moments as he makes his way through the crowd, its laughter audible in his ear. He’s reminded of another little ghost fire when he looks at it, and he smiles, reaching a hand up to let it perch on his palm.
“Are you looking for someone, little ghost?”
“No,” the ghost fire responds. “I just wanted to see the market!”
Xie Lian’s smile turns soft. “So do I. Would you like to travel with me? I’m looking for something for a special someone.”
The ghost fire bounces along beside him like a little streak of light, flitting here and there and everywhere it possibly can as Xie Lian meanders his way through the crowds. It calls to him on several occasions, asking what he thinks about various trinkets in the stalls, and laughs at the stall holders who try and shoo it away like it’s an annoying little pest rather than a soul. Xie Lian watches it with a gentle smile, paying close attention to everything it points out, agreeing with its assessment of the things it sees, and giving it a place to hide under his hat when the stall owners don’t exactly like said assessments.
“Did you have a name?” He asks when they’re looking at gaudy looking hairpieces, and the soul is hovering as though they spark a memory.
The ghost fire is silent for a brief moment. “If I did, I don’t remember it.”
Xie Lian hums. “Then, would it be okay if I called you didi?”
“Who’s little brother?” The ghost fire puffs up and dances around his face. “I don’t remember much, but I know I’m a girl!”
“Ah!” Xie Lian laughs. “How rude of me! Please accept my apologies. May I call you Meimei, then?”
If the ghost fire had a face, Xie Lian thinks he would see it with its chin jutting out, arms folded in a gesture of stubborn defiance. Ah. Just like San Lang in the Imperial Palace.
“I’ll be your Meimei,” the ghost fire agrees.
Xie Lian smiles softly.
They continue through the market, and Xie Lian struggles to figure out what he should be looking for. A fleeting moment has him thinking he should just wrap himself with a ribbon on, and present himself as a gift, but as soon as that thought comes to his head he banishes it in favour of doing literally anything else. The humiliation would kill him, even if he knows that Hua Cheng would love every second of it. He might have a thick face, but there are limits.
“What’s this thing you’re looking for, anyway?” Meimei pipes up when Xie Lian leaves yet another stall empty handed. “Maybe I can help!”
Xie Lian smiles. “Maybe. It’s a very special persons birthday soon, and I need to find him a gift. I’m not having much luck though, ahaha…”
Meimei bounces in place for a moment. “Well, what does he like?”
“He likes weapons, antiques, all sorts of treasures. Mm…he likes crafting and painting, and gambling too. Um…” Would it be arrogant to say he likes anything and everything I do…? “Oh, and loquats. But he has everything he could possibly want of those things…there really isn’t anything I could get for him that he doesn’t already have.”
Meimei bobs idly about Xie Lian’s head while he shrugs off the arm of a particularly raucous bison-headed demon and ducks through a group of oversized swans in an effort to avoid being followed.
“Well, what about something small then?” She suggests after a moment. “Something that has meaning just for you two? If he has everything grand and valuable, maybe he would like a gift that is the exact opposite. Or an experience.” He can almost hear the snap of ghostly fingers as she hovers in front of him. “Sometimes just nice things happening around you will make a good day! It doesn’t always have to be something you buy!”
“Ah…that’s not a bad idea. You’re good at this, Meimei!”
She flares brightly with pride.
Xie Lian finds it some time later, when he’s almost traversed the entire market and Meimei is flagging a little by his shoulder. She holds no heat and her flame isn’t dangerous, but Xie Lian can recognise the way she begins to slow down. He’s thankful that he finds exactly what he’s looking for before she decides she’s seen all there is she wanted to see.
The stall is only little, full of the kind of obnoxious jewellery worn by the ghosts who were courtesans in their past lives and other such trinkets, and Xie Lian doesn’t initially intend to stop there. But there’s a single item there that glints at him in reflection of the candlelight, and it’s just enough that it catches his attention.
“Oh…that’s pretty,” Meimei says softly.
It’s an inkstone; a small, pure white flower, preserved in some kind of clear amber that’s laid into dark stone for painting or calligraphy. The flower looks almost exactly like the ones Hua Cheng used to leave at his temples, and when Xie Lian looks at it, he’s reminded of the deep and powerful devotion that kept his head above water for all these centuries. Something lodges itself in his chest, and he knows instantly that he’s not leaving this stall without that inkstone.
“Aye, you like the peony stone, Daozhang?” The stall holder—a severe looking woman with a jarringly soft voice—notices his staring.
Xie Lian nods faintly. “Yes. It’s beautiful.”
He doesn’t need to haggle. He has enough money now to buy the entire market if he chooses, so he hands over the amount that the stallholder asks for without argument. She seems surprised at that, like she’d been hoping for a good session of haggling, but no moron ever turned down more money than required, so she takes it without saying anything more, and carefully wraps the stone in an embroidered silk pouch.
Xie Lian takes it and carefully places it in his sleeve, before giving the demon a parting bow in thanks.
When he glances at Meimei on his shoulder, he feels his heart twist.
“Ah, Meimei, there’s one more place I think you should see. It’s not very far. I think you’ll like it.”
Meimei flares a little in response, and Xie Lian makes his way towards his destination. He moves leisurely so as not to frighten her, but with quiet haste given that time is against him now. She doesn’t move off his shoulder, and is quiet for the entire walk, signalling to Xie Lian that she’s almost ready to go.
The garden of Paradise Manor’s courtyard opens up in brilliant colour as he steps through the gate. The lanterns are lit, giving the entire thing a soft glow, and flowers of all shapes, varieties and colours wink up at them from where they lie in the garden beds. There’s a fountain bubbling away nearby, the water garden surrounding it full of vibrant koi fish that race around each other in an effort to swim close.
In the middle, a beautifully carved marble statue of the Flower Crowned Martial God smiles down at them.
Meimei stirs at his shoulder.
“This is…”
“Meimei was so helpful to me today,” Xie Lian says with a warm smile. “I thought I should give you something nice to look at for a while. This garden was made by me and my special someone.”
“Hua…Chengzhu’s…?”
Xie Lian lifts her from his shoulder and goes to settle in a bed of fragrant gardenia bushes.
“When I give him this gift, I’ll make sure to mention that Meimei was the one who suggested it.”
Meimei flares weakly in his palm. Xie Lian smiles down at her, the sadness in his chest hidden from his face, so that she won’t be concerned by it. Everything in this world has a time to go, after all, and this just means that she fulfilled her final wish. He’s honoured to have been the one to share it with her.
“Is there anything else you wanted to do today, Meimei?”
She doesn’t answer.
When Hua Cheng finds him in the garden, Xie Lian is still gazing across the flowers, his hands empty and his eyes bright. Xie Lian tells him all about his afternoon with the spritely little ghost, and Hua Cheng listens.
Xie Lian is back on the hunt the next day. He decides he knows exactly what he’s going to do now for Hua Cheng’s birthday, inspired by Meimei’s suggestions of small things with meaning. He intends to pamper his husband for the entire day, from the moment he wakes until the moment he closes his eyes to sleep, and that requires planning.
First, he needs to learn how to make noodles.
Meimei had mentioned longevity noodles when they were in the market, and Xie Lian vaguely remember being given them as a child in the Palace. They’re supposed to bring good luck and signify long life—neither of which Hua Cheng needs help with, really—but Xie Lian likes the tradition regardless, and thinks it might be fun to do.
Except he has no idea how to make noodles.
So he enlists the help of Paradise Manor’s head chef, who looks at Xie Lian like he’d personally asked him to lingchi himself right there in front of him. Xie Lian just smiles until the chef—a burly looking man with tusks the length of Xie Lian’s forearm—until he caves with a sound that would think he’s being asked to sacrifice a limb.
Xie Lian spends an entire day in the kitchen, trying his best but really only serving to make a mess. His first attempt turns out looking like a lump of glue. The second could be considered a projectile weapon. The third makes it to the wok but ends up on fire after only a few minutes, and Xie Lian stubbornly refuses to give in, despite the chef begging him to.
“I can make them for you to present to him, Xie-Daozhang. I’ll even make sure they’re a little bit uneven so it looks like you made them!”
Xie Lian shakes his head. “No, he’ll know I didn’t do it. I want to be the one to make them. I’ll just keep trying until I get it right.”
It’s another three attempts before he makes something that could pass as a noodle dish. The head chef is ready to dissipate his soul by the time Xie Lian proudly declares that he knows enough to be able to make them in a few days’ time.
The earlier attempts at dough aren’t even fit to be fed to the stray animals.
Next, Xie Lian visits the high-end bathhouse. Initially he’d thought about just arranging the bath in Paradise Manor to suit his needs would be nice enough, but he’d decided against it because he can do that any time really, and this is supposed to be a day to pamper his husband. So, expensive bath house it is, and Xie Lian intends to get the most from it.
He books a private suite for them, and informs the Matron just who the suite is for. Doing so ensures that the entire top floor of the bathhouse is completely free on the day of their booking, which suites Xie Lian just fine. He’s learned not to be embarrassed about extravagance here in Ghost City; it’s come to be expected when Hua Cheng is involved. So he requests the finest of everything—fragrances, bath oils, soaps, washes and towels, and tries not to be too mortified when the matron makes more than a few suggestive comments.
Last on his list, that he’s lovingly come to think of as Meimei’s list, is a visit to the tailor.
He’s not expecting anything exquisite in the two days the tailor will have to see to his request, but he knows that the people of this realm are nothing if not ruthless when it comes to delivering the goods for their King. So he meets with the tailor and allows himself to be measured, poked, prodded and examined, and insists on paying for the outfit despite the tailor trying to tell him there’s no need. After all, he can’t really claim that it’s a gift from him if he never paid for it.
It takes a little longer than he’d expected. He tries to tell the tailor not to overwork himself, that it’s only for a bit of dress up and that he doesn’t need to be too particular, but the second the tailor learns just who the outfit is for, he declares that he will not sleep until it’s complete and perfect.
It makes Xie Lian feel a little bad that he hadn’t come here earlier to give the poor ghost more time.
When he returns to the Manor afterwards, Hua Cheng is waiting for him in the parlour. He’s lounging on his futon looking bored, toying with a silver butterfly that dances around his hands like a playful spirit, and when he spots Xie Lian he’s on his feet immediately.
Hua Cheng has never been one to care about personal boundaries, even in their early days. These days, he’s more tactile than ever, and the first thing he does when he stands with a joyous call of “Gege!” is cup Xie Lian’s face in his hands and kiss him soundly, before combing a few wayward strands out of his face and slipping an arm around his shoulder.
“You’re back,” he says, and it sounds almost like he’s been spending every waking moment counting the seconds until Xie Lian returned.
Knowing him, he has.
“I’m back,” Xie Lian affirms with a smile, and leans up to kiss him again.
Hua Cheng calls for tea to be brought, and they settle together on the futon. Hua Cheng is playing idly with Xie Lian’s hands, and his mind wanders to the amber inkstone hidden in his sleeve. He has to resist the urge to whip it out and hand it over right then and there, reprimanding himself that he only has to wait two more days.
“Gege has been busy lately,” Hua Cheng breaks the silence with a kiss to Xie Lian’s hair, and the unspoken question is evident.
Xie Lian just hums. “There’s always lots to see in Ghost City.”
It earns him a quiet laugh. “So there is.”
Hua Cheng pours the tea for them when it arrives, and like everything else he does, it’s perfectly handled without a single leaf in the cup he hands over. Xie Lian appreciates its fragrance before taking a sip, pretending not to notice the almost burning curiosity he can feel radiating from Hua Cheng.
Eventually, Hua Cheng can’t help himself.
“Would Gege like to share what he’s found on his outings?”
“Oh, not much really.” Xie Lian knows he’s a terrible liar—especially to his husband, so he does his best to keep his answers vague. “A lot of jewellery sellers in the market.”
“They’ve always been there. A lot of ghosts like Jewellery, it seems.”
“A lot of Ghosts are getting ready to celebrate your birthday, too.”
“As if they need a reason to party,” Hua Cheng scoffs.
Xie Lian puts his cup down and turns to give Hua Cheng a bemused stare. “You really don’t care that they’re so excited to celebrate for you?”
Hua Cheng just shrugs. “As long as you’re here, that’s all I need.”
“Ahh, San Lang,” Xie Lian sighs. “You really are too sweet sometimes.”
“So you won’t tell me what you’ve been up to, then?”
Xie Lian laughs, and turns to kiss Hua Cheng’s jaw. “You’ll find out sooner rather than later. And that’s all I’m going to give you.”
Hua Cheng spends the rest of the day pretending to pout and sulk, lamenting about how his husband is keeping secrets and he can’t trust anyone anymore, until Xie Lian makes it up to him as they’re preparing for bed that night. The smugness radiates from him in waves as Xie Lian curls in close, still overheated and breathless, and earns him a gentle smack on his naked chest.
“You’re incorrigible.”
He picks up his outfit the day before Hua Cheng’s birthday.
The tailor welcomes him in with an exuberant (but exhausted) “Xie-Daozhang!” and immediately ushers him into the fitting room with a demand that it needs to be properly tried on and inspected before he can allow Xie Lian to take it. What follows is a solid half hour of being assisted into the clothes (which serves to alert Xie Lian to the fact that he needs to enlist the help of a servant) and then being poked and prodded again to ensure it fits perfectly.
The tailor has also managed to find a collection of jewels and hairpieces to go with it, neither of which Xie Lian had asked for, but both of which he welcomes into the design.
Xie Lian stares at himself in the bronze mirror when he’s dressed, caught between the past and present. The materials are different, and his jewellery isn’t as decadent, but the tailor has done the almost impossible job of entirely replicating his crown prince robes, so that he once again resembles the youth who danced with swords from his past.
He knows that Hua Cheng is going to die all over again when he sees it.
“What does Xie-Daozhang think?”
“This is…” he brushes a hand over the brocade belt, and has to swallow the emotion he didn’t think he’d have. “It’s exquisite.”
“Hua Chengzhu will like it?”
Xie Lian smiles. “He’s going to love it.”
He pays the tailor generously, despite the attempts at refusal, and encourages him to rest for the remainder of the day so that he may have a full day of celebration and enjoyment tomorrow. Then, he hides the clothes in with the inkstone in his qiankun pouch, and makes his way back to the manor.
It’s exceedingly difficult not to cave in to Hua Cheng’s wheedling this time, when he adopts the form of a ruddy cheeked child with eyes the size of walnuts and begs his Gege to tell him his secrets.
He manages though. Barely.
The remainder of the evening is spent colluding with the servants to ensure everything is perfect for tomorrow. It’s only in fleeting moments when Hua Cheng is busy or distracted, and Xie Lian is certain that he’s not being as sly as he thinks he is (more than once, he’s caught Hua Cheng watching him with a fond expression), but he manages to get everything he needs in order.
When he lays in bed that night with Hua Cheng’s head tucked against his chest and his gentle breath fanning out across his collarbones, Xie Lian quietly sends a thank-you prayer to Meimei for all of her inspiration, and asks her to help ensure nothing goes wrong tomorrow.
Hua Cheng’s birthday dawns with raucous noise in the city so loud that it can be heard all the way from Paradise Manor. Xie Lian rouses lazily from where he’s been sleeping with Hua Cheng’s back to his chest and takes a few moments to figure out what the cause of the faint bangs are, and then smiles to himself when he realises it’s fireworks. They really haven’t spared any time for their celebrations.
Hua Cheng stirs, and Xie Lian lifts himself up onto one elbow so that he can lean over him, watching his husband slowly wake. When Hua Cheng is a little more alert, Xie Lian leans down and presses a kiss to his cheek, and then chases it around to his mouth when Hua Cheng turns his head.
“Morning, Gege,” Hua Cheng mumbles against his mouth, and Xie Lian doesn’t suppress his smile. Sleep-addled Hua Cheng will always be one of his favourite things.
“Happy birthday, San Lang.”
Hua Cheng hums, and roles over onto his back as Xie Lian rises to rest on top of him. He’s still half asleep, combing his fingers through Xie Lian’s hair, and Xie Lian admires his beauty while his heart swells.
Centuries ago on this day, a baby was born into the world. And that baby grew into an astonishing man, whose heart and soul are encased in jewel around Xie Lian’s neck, belonging to no one else in all the realms. To Xie Lian, this day is the most wonderful day of the year. And he will spend the entire day showing Hua Cheng just how much he loves him, so that he feels as blessed as Xie Lian does.
“I can hear you thinking from here, Gege.” Hua Cheng cracks his eye open, still bright with sleep and gentle mirth as he gazes at Xie Lian.
Xie Lian laughs and kisses Hua Cheng’s chest, just below his collarbone. “I’m just thinking about how today is your birthday, but I’m the one who was given the best gift of them all.”
Hua Cheng pulls him up by his arms and drowns him in a kiss full of so much emotion that Xie Lian can feel his chest ache with it. He returns it in kind, his fingers twining in silky black hair, and can’t help but smile as Hua Cheng’s hands slide down his waist and to his hips. His skin is already warm, and it doesn’t take much to have him unravelling in a breathless mess when Hua Cheng moves with intent.
He’d meant to spend the day lavishing love and affection on Hua Cheng, but the first thing they get to that morning has Xie Lian coming undone by his love’s hands.
“I have a gift for you.”
Hua Cheng hums from above him. He’s leaning against the head board, one hand behind his head while the other strokes Xie Lian’s shoulder. They’ve long since missed their breakfast, but neither of them particularly cares about that, content to remain in each other’s company.
“Actually, I have a few gifts.”
“Gege has been busy indeed.”
Xie Lian grins. “Well, you wouldn’t give me a straight answer, so I just decided to do whatever I wanted.”
He shuffles out of the bed, body a little stiff, and moves to his discarded robes. Riffling through the sleeves yields his qiankun pouch, and he pulls out the inkstone with his bottom lip between his teeth. He hasn’t been nervous like this in a while, and though he knows Hua Cheng will love everything he does for him today, kicking it off like this is still making butterflies in his stomach.
He turns, hands behind his back, and makes his way back to the bed. Hua Cheng’s hands settle at his hips as Xie Lian sits on his lap, and he takes a moment to admire the burning curiosity that Hua Cheng is barely restraining.
“I wanted to give you this last of all, but I can’t help myself,” Xie Lian admits. With a deep breath, he brings his arms from their hiding place and holds out the inkstone and holds his breath as Hua Cheng’s eyes land on it.
He’s silent for a moment, staring at the inkstone in Xie Lian’s palms with his lips parted and an unreadable expression on his face. Xie Lian gnaws on his lip as Hua Cheng takes the stone, holding it up so that he can gaze at the tiny flower embedded within its surface. Xie Lian can see the inkstone reflected in his eyes, and for a second he’s transported back to a time when those perfect white flowers marked the trail of Hua Cheng’s wandering.
“It reminded me of the flowers you used to leave behind,” Xie Lian blurts out in a rush, like Hua Cheng wouldn’t pick up on the significance of it. The silence is heavy though, and he needs to break it somehow. “I found it in the market the night I met Meimei. I thought it would be nice for you to make your paintings with. Don’t you think?”
Hua Cheng’s eyes are soft. He runs a finger across the surface of the inkstone, over the amber encased flower like he could touch its tiny petals if he thought about it hard enough. When he looks up at Xie Lian, his eyes are bright and his smile is sincere.
“Gege, it’s perfect.”
“You like it?” Xie Lian asks, his voice meek. “Truly? And not just because I gave it to you, but because you really like it?”
Hua Cheng laughs and tugs Xie Lian down so that he can kiss the corner of his mouth. “Even though I would love anything Gege gives me, this is especially precious. These flowers have always been my favourite. Now I have one that will never die.”
Xie Lian’s heart swells.
Hua Cheng kisses him again, lingering and warm, and Xie Lian sighs into it. They stay there like that for a little while, sharing languid kisses for no other reason other than they can. Hua Cheng doesn’t let go of the inkstone, and Xie Lian frames his face with his hands, wanting to stay like that all day.
…But he has plans, and so he pulls back when Hua Cheng tugs him closer by the waist, pressing a slender finger to his lips when Hua Cheng tries to chase him.
“Gege~” Hua Cheng whines. “Don’t you want me to show you my thanks for your gift?”
“Later,” Xie Lian promises with a grin. “I promise. I have an entire day planned. You’ll get your chance to thank me.”
Hua Cheng pouts, putting on his best attempt at puppy eyes without being a literal puppy, and Xie Lian just laughs and playfully shoves his shoulder. Truthfully, the idea of just spending the entire day in bed together is a sorely tempting one, and he’s quite certain that that will be tomorrows plan when Hua Cheng is done with him tonight (if he knows one thing about his husband, it’s that his desire to show his gratitude is going to be in the most physical sense possible). But for now, they have an appointment to keep, and Xie Lian doesn’t want Hua Cheng to be late.
They end up being late.
Mostly because Hua Cheng tried to insist on bathing just for a little extra cuddle time and Xie Lian is hard pressed to resist despite the fact that they’re specifically about to make their way their way to the bathhouse, but also because he underestimated the time when they finally emerged from their chambers.
Turns out, they’d spent more time wrapped up in one another than he’d thought.
He tries not to fret about it though, and finds himself easily distracted by the celebrations in the City as they make their way through the bustling streets.
Banners, lanterns, food stalls, performers and games are everywhere. There’s music reverberating from all angles and the crowds are shoulder to shoulder, and its only for that reason that Xie Lian caves into Hua Cheng’s suggestion that they take a sedan.
They’re a little more conspicuous, though.
The crowd immediately knows who is in the carriage, and cries and caterwauls of Happy Birthday, Hua Chengzhu! Eternal youth and boundless fortune Hua Chengzhu, follow them from the second they leave the manor. With the curtains drawn, the ghosts and demons can’t see in, but the two passengers inside can see out, and Xie Lian is in awe.
“They really like the butterfly motif, don’t they?” He says as they pass yet another banner decorated in blue and white butterflies. He’s spotted a flower or two as well, but none of them are the right type of flower, and none so common as the wraith butterflies that herald Hua Cheng’s presence.
Hua Cheng is leaning back against the warm wood of the carriage with his eyes closed, one ankle resting on the other knee. He seems to be taking no notice of what’s going on around him, but it’s evident by the way his eyes remain soft around the edges that he doesn’t hate the celebrations. His mouth even twitches every so often, like he wants to smile but is working not to.
“Ah, how wonderful that San Lang’s birthday is celebrated like this,” Xie Lian says as he gazes out the window. “Truly a once a year treat.”
Hua Cheng just hums and tugs Xie Lian away from the window, sliding an arm around his waist. He pretends to act cool, but Xie Lian can see through that by now, and smiles at the way he tries not to seem too smug.
“They’re just hoping they can have some of my goodwill if they ever get caught being feral.”
“No, I think they really do wish their leader good fortune,” Xie Lian counters good naturedly. “Not that San Lang needs it.”
Hua Cheng kisses his hair, and Xie Lian settles against him, content to listen to the sounds of well wishes and celebration that surround the sedan as they make their way to the bathhouse. For once, Xie Lian agrees wholeheartedly with everything the ghosts are calling out.
The bathhouse is as busy as ever when they arrive, but when they both emerge from the Sedan, the crowd disperses around them like a drop of oil in a wok. Xie Lian can feel as many eyes on him as there are on Hua Cheng, and the whispers are equally as awed.
“Is that Xie-Daozhang…?”
“Hua Chengzhu’s fated lover? No way.”
“He never comes anywhere.”
“Look at his simple clothes!”
“He’s just as beautiful as a worthy lover of Hua Chengzhu should be.”
“That’s him? Oh, I‘ve seen him in the market before!”
Hua Cheng wraps an arm around his waist that’s just shy of possessive, and Xie Lian ducks his burning face. It never fails to embarrass him when the ghosts recognise him and begin to whisper. It’s not like he cares; he’s never cared what anyone thinks of him really, but more so because he’s being recognised as someone with status again, and he’s not used to that.
It’s been a long time since he had status.
“Gege’s cheeks are as red as my robes,” Hua Cheng teases once they’re inside.
“Ah, stop it,” Xie Lian whines. “Or you won’t get your surprise later.”
Hua Cheng’s eyebrows shoot towards his hairline. “Surprise?”
Before Xie Lian can answer, they’re met by one of the attendants; a little racoon demon who bows so deeply that her nose is in danger of touching her knees.
“Hua Chengzhu, Xie-Daozhang. It is our deepest honour.”
“I have a reservation,” Xie Lian says unnecessarily. And then, even more so, “for both of us.”
“Certainly; this humble servant has ensured only the finest for Hua Chengzhu and his husband. Please allow me to show you to your suite.”
Only the finest turns out to be the largest room in the entire bathhouse, it’s sunken, five petal shaped bath big enough for twenty men and filled to the brim with deliciously hot water. The scent of peonies permeates the air through the steamy room, and shelves line the walls with all kinds of bathing products for any imaginable purpose.
There are two attendants in the room as well; one arranging rice waters and scented bars near a long mat by a partition on the opposite side, and one to their left, waiting to collect their things.
The sound of gentle flute music floats through the thin walls, culminating in an atmosphere of utmost luxury and intimacy.
Xie Lian is quietly pleased with himself.
“What do you think?” he turns to Hua Cheng, who is casting his eyes over the room with the kind of smile that tells Xie Lian his thoughts are about anything but cleanliness. “I wanted to spoil you a little. Do you like it?”
Hua Cheng’s eyes land on him, and his smile quirks into a lascivious smirk. “Oh, yes. Gege has certainly outdone himself.”
Xie Lian preens.
He dismisses the two attendants, not interested in their assistance at this time—and also not at all inclined to undress in front of others. They both bow deeply and depart the room without any ado, leaving Hua Cheng and Xie Lian in the ridiculously oversized suite.
Xie Lian makes it two steps towards the clothing shelves before Hua Cheng’s hands are on him, teasing their way across his shoulders to free him of his outer robe.
“San Lang, I’m the one who is supposed to be tending to you, remember?” Xie Lian says when he turns to face Hua Cheng. “Let me do everything.”
“I can’t even unwrap my favourite gift on my birthday?”
Xie Lian’s bark of laughter is entirely boorish. The matching grin from Hua Cheng encourages Xie Lian to nudge his shoulder, one hand slapped over his mouth to stop him from making any more ugly noises.
“San Lang! That joke was awful!”
“It’s true though.”
Xie Lian shakes his head and, still grinning, moves to Hua Cheng’s robes to work the belts with deft and familiar hands. In an instant, Hua Cheng is down to his inner garments, and barefoot on the warm tiles. Xie Lian follows suit, but is pulled up short from entering the tub when Hua Cheng begins removing his inner clothes as well.
“San Lang!” Xie Lian whispers anxiously, “you can’t take that off in here!”
“Are there any other people here?” Hua Cheng replies lazily.
“No, but still…it’s indecent!”
Hua Cheng just smirks, and steps unashamedly out of the last of his clothes. He watches Xie Lian for a moment with an inviting look, but doesn’t try and pressure him. Hua Cheng will never pressure Xie Lian to do anything that makes him uncomfortable, even if it’s as simple as bathing naked. Xie Lian tugs shyly at his own inner robe, and gnaws on his lip while he stares at the bath, undecided and self-conscious.
And then he looks at Hua Cheng again, who is shooting him a grin over his shoulder as he moves towards the water, the planes of his pale skin as beautiful as the moon on a clear night.
And just like that, Xie Lian caves. He’s not embarrassed about being naked around his husband by any means, but the etiquette of using public baths has been drilled into him since he was a child, and breaking that etiquette seems indecent, even if it is just the two of them here; one of whom basically owns the entire place anyway. Still, he doesn’t want to be clothed while Hua Cheng isn’t, and so he strips off his inner robe and undergarments to follow suit.
Xie Lian will just tip them some extra money when they leave to cover the cleaning costs.
Etiquette is forgotten though when he slides into the water. He sighs into the warmth that embraces his aching body, and casts his eyes to Hua Cheng, who has moved to the middle of the bath with his back to Xie Lian. His hair ripples on the surface like black ink, and his bare shoulders cut through the steam in sharp lines that Xie Lian pauses to admire.
He moves to the side of the tub where the attendants have laid out bathing accessories, and picks up a vial of rice water and a jug. There’s a little wooden tray designed to float on the water that he places them on, and brings them across to where Hua Cheng has settled.
He slides his arms around Hua Cheng’s chest from behind and presses a kiss to his cheek.
“May I wash your hair?”
Hua Cheng smiles with his eyes closed, lazy and content. “Gege can do whatever he likes.”
Xie Lian takes the jug and carefully wets Hua Cheng’s hair, before working the rice water in with his fingers. He takes his time massaging it into his scalp, combing his fingers through black tresses with a reverence he only shows to his husband. Hua Cheng’s hair is thick and luxurious, and the rice water softens the tangled tresses until he can comb any knots out to leave it silky against his skin. Xie Lian plays with it for longer than necessary to wash, simply enjoying the feel of it against his skin while he does his best to let Hua Cheng relax into his ministrations.
Xie Lian carefully rinses the rice water free, and the shine it leaves would be the envy of the heavens. He takes some bath oils and works them into Hua Cheng’s scalp afterwards, giving his hair a lingering scent that smells of honeysuckle.
When he’s done, he lets his fingers drift downwards, until they’re gently massaging Hua Cheng’s neck and shoulders. He leans in to kiss behind his ear, and Hua Cheng hums contentedly.
The intimacy is different to the shared moments in their private chambers, when they’re comfortable and content together. It’s different again to their own bath they share, no matter how luxuriously large it is. There’s something altogether more tender about sharing a moment together in a room provided to them like this, and while Xie Lian can’t exactly place why that is, he’s going to take full advantage of it.
He takes a scented bar and begins working it into snowy skin, and Hua Cheng dips his head forwards with a sigh. Xie Lian takes his time washing his back and shoulders, massaging away knots and tightness that he finds along the way. His hands are reverent with every expanse of skin they touch, like he’s handling something precious and breakable, despite the fact that Hua Cheng is only one of those things. And when he’s done with his back, he slides through the water around to his front, intent on continuing.
Hua Cheng’s breathing is stuttered, and his eye is bright and heavy where it meets Xie Lian’s gaze. Xie Lian would be an idiot not to know the effect this is having on him, and so he purposely chooses not to react in favour of continuing his efforts.
They’re close enough to share breaths. Xie Lian keeps his eyes down, following his hands where they work their way across Hua Cheng’s chest, and when one accidentally grazes a dusky peak, he bites his lip at the way Hua Cheng shudders.
“Gege.” Hua Cheng’s voice is a rasp in the quiet of the room.
Xie Lian doesn’t respond, only moving to determinedly continue his washing, massaging the hard planes of Hua Cheng’s stomach. Hua Cheng rests his forehead against the top of Xie Lian’s head, and his hands come up to rest on Xie Lian’s arms where they squeeze ever so slightly.
“Gege.”
“Hush,” Xie Lian whispers, ignoring the way his own voice sounds. “I need to keep washing.”
Hua Cheng exhales, and his body tenses as Xie Lian’s hand wanders lower, across his hips and navel, just barely teasing the part of him that is desperate for attention. When Xie Lian moves his hand back up again, Hua Cheng groans, the frustration evident.
Xie Lian loves this effect he has on his husband. He hides the smile it brings by ducking his head, and teases his way across Hua Cheng’s chest again, drawing more shivers from him with every flick or twist of his fingers. There’s intent there now; he wants Hua Cheng to become worked up like this. He wants to see him come apart so that he can put him back together again; wants to give him everything he desires.
When he lifts his head to kiss Hua Cheng, the hands at his biceps immediately tighten, and he’s yanked forward until they’re flush together, immediately losing himself in Hua Cheng’s hold without any further pretence. His nails dig into Hua Cheng’s chest as he allows him in, mouth parting and teeth snaring at his lip in a way that always drags the air from his lungs.
The wash bar and wooden tray are left to float across the water, forgotten.
Xie Lian begins pushing him back towards the edge of the tub, both of them clumsy in their haste. They don’t break their kiss and they don’t watch where they’re going, which nearly results in both of them going under. When Xie Lian feels Hua Cheng’s body hit the edge, he immediately grinds forward and the heat of their skin turns the still hot water cool against them.
Hua Cheng’s hands wander freely, and Xie Lian has to pull away to collect his thoughts so that he doesn’t get too caught up in the moment. Because despite how aroused he is, he does still have lines that are drawn here, and they don’t have the right supplies with them anyway.
They can cross those lines and more later on.
He can’t suppress a needy whimper when Hua Cheng takes hold of them both, and he has to intervene to stop himself from completely getting lost in it. He pulls Hua Cheng’s hand away and steps back, meeting his confused but wild gaze with determination.
“Not in the water,” he rasps, and then steps forward again, taking Hua Cheng’s narrow hips in his hands. “Up on the edge.”
Hua Cheng does as he’s told, and his confusion melts away into understanding when Xie Lian slots himself in between his legs and leans in to kiss at his collarbone and chest, hands at his thighs where they bracket his waist.
Xie Lian leaves a trail of bites down Hua Cheng’s sternum and across his ribs, taking his time and with no intent to rush. He pays close attention to those places he knows turns Hua Cheng to water, and delights in the way his breath stutters and hitches with every flick of his tongue and every nip of his teeth. There are hands in his hair and he can feel his bun come loose, and he smiles because Hua Cheng gripping his hair in the throes of pleasure is one of his favourite things.
He makes his way down, down, until he’s kneeling in the water and Hua Cheng is leaning back, weight on one hand while Xie Lian bites at his hip.
“Gege…”
Xie Lian just hums, and when he takes Hua Cheng in hand he glances up at him with a bright smile, delighting the way Hua Cheng’s lips are parted and his eye is lidded with arousal. He gives him long, leisurely strokes, watching his face as Hua Cheng’s head dips and his lashes drop.
The sound that Hua Cheng makes when Xie Lian takes him into his mouth is always the sweetest of music. It’s a groan dragged from the deepest parts of his chest and his body trembles with it, and Xie Lian echoes that noise deep in his throat around Hua Cheng’s length.
He starts up a languid rhythm, taking Hua Cheng into his mouth almost entirely before pulling back again, the heavy weight of it familiar against his tongue. His hand works in tandem in the way Hua Cheng likes and Xie Lian draws back lazily, switching between the two so that he can watch Hua Cheng’s expressions at the same time.
He flicks his tongue against the tip of it, and then sucks at the head before diving back down, humming as he goes.
Hua Cheng’s hand is knotted in his hair, keeping it out of the way so that he can see past its curtain. Xie Lian always makes sure to put on a show for him, because half of the fun for them both is knowing how much the other is enjoying their actions.
And then Xie Lian takes him all the way, buried in his throat and cutting off his air, and Hua Cheng lets out another groan, louder this time, less restrained. Xie Lian remains where he is, ignoring the burn and the way his throat constricts, until he can feel Hua Cheng’s fingers twisting harder in his hair.
He pulls back with a gasp, and then repeats the action once, twice more, revelling in the way Hua Cheng mumbles his name the closer he gets to his peak.
Hua Cheng is hot in his mouth and Xie Lian can see the lines of his stomach tensing as he works him, building him up and tasting the gathering fluid that seeps free as he grows closer. He loves doing this, loves feeling Hua Cheng in his mouth and listening to the sounds of his moans and his breathing; loves feeling those hands twisted in his hair and knowing that he’s able to reduce Hua Cheng to this state. Xie Lian sometimes can’t believe he went eight hundred years never knowing what it was like to do something like this, but he can’t be too mad at himself because he’d never trade his first time learning all there is to learn with Hua Cheng.
Instead, he makes up for that absence by taking Hua Cheng in his mouth as often as they both like, almost wherever they please (as long as it’s private enough). Hua Cheng loves it as much as Xie Lian does, which makes the whole thing so much sweeter.
“Gege,” Hua Cheng breaths when Xie Lian resumes his steady rhythm, the fingers in his hair tugging lightly in warning. “Gege.”
Xie Lian hums to show he’s heard, but he doesn’t stop and he doesn’t slow down. And when Hua Cheng’s body spasms, he swallows him deep into his mouth and takes all he has to give, until Hua Cheng is spent and breathless with shuddery gasps, curled around Xie Lian with his hands twisted in his hair.
Xie Lian grins up at Hua Cheng when he’s done, and turns his head to kiss the arm that’s still tangled in his tresses. Hua Cheng combs his fingers along Xie Lian’s scalp and then encourages him to stand, pulling him close so that he can kiss his swollen lips.
He cards his fingers through Hua Cheng’s still wet hair, pulling back slightly to smile at the way he has his visible eye half closed and blinking slowly like a lazy cat.
“Come back in now,” Xie Lian encourages. “I’ll finish washing you.”
“Gege still has a problem that needs taking care of.”
Xie Lian shakes his head. “No, it’s okay. I want to continue to pay the most attention to you. May I finish washing you, now?”
Hua Cheng looks ready to protest again, but Xie Lian has eight hundred years of dealing with just such a problem behind him, and they both know that it truly doesn’t cause him any concern. So he relents, and slides back into the water so that Xie Lian can finish washing him from head to foot.
When he’s done, he smells heavenly, and Xie Lian allows him to return the favour and wash him down too (sans one particular part of it). Then they simply stay there together in the water, basking in the heat and comfort of being close together in such a luxurious place.
They emerge and rinse down with the hot water by the partition, and Xie Lian insists on drying Hua Cheng down with the thick towels left by the heating mat. Hua Cheng lets him, his mouth curved in a gentle smile all the way, and then when they’re both dried and dressed in their inner robes again, Xie Lian perches behind Hua Cheng and begins combing his hair.
He brushes it until it’s smooth and shining, and braids it messily the way Hua Cheng likes it. And when Xie Lian drapes himself over Hua Cheng’s shoulders to give him a smile and a kiss, they both end up dislodging it from falling over onto the floor.
In the end, Xie Lian doesn’t end up allowing his ‘problem’ to just go away, because he’s still so strung out that the second Hua Cheng kisses his neck, his attention is right back below the belt. So he lets himself be laid out right there on the floor of the bathhouse, hands tangled in Hua Cheng’s hair while he returns the favour in kind.
They leave the bathhouse after Xie Lian gives the attendant a generous tip and spends a few moments agonising over whether it was enough to compensate for the cleaning up. Hua Cheng eases his worries by promising to send the bathhouse a donation in a gesture of goodwill, and they return to Paradise Manor amongst the cheers and music of the crowds. Crowds that have only grown bigger as word spread throughout the ghost realm about the celebrations.
On returning to the manor, one of the servants approaches them and bows deeply.
“Hua Chengzhu. Xie-Daozhang. Welcome back.”
“Thank you,” Xie Lian says amicably for them both as Hua Cheng stalks towards the parlour.
“There have been some deliveries while Hua Chengzhu and Xie-Daozhang were out. Shall this servant fetch them?”
“Please,” Xie Lian says. “Bring them to the parlour. With some of San Lang’s favourite tea.”
Hua Cheng is already sprawled out on the futon when Xie Lian enters. To the untrained eye, he looks lazy and disinterested, but Xie Lian knows him, and he can see the way he’s still basking in the afterglow of their time in the bathhouse. There’s a quirk to the corner of his mouth and his posture is far more relaxed than it normally is, and Xie Lian takes a moment to pat himself on the back for it.
“San Lang,” he announces his presence and moves towards the low table. “The servant is bringing you some gifts. Why don’t you come and join me for tea?”
“Gege has already given me the best gifts,” Hua Cheng replies. “I don’t need to see anything else. It won’t compare.”
Xie Lian covers his mouth with his sleeve. Wait until dinnertime, if you think this was good. “Come on, it’ll be nice to see what others are sending you.”
Hua Cheng relents, pretending to huff about it as he pulls himself up off the futon to join Xie Lian at the table. Xie Lian grins at him and kisses his cheek, flicking a little strand of hair out of his eyes to tuck behind his ear as he does so.
The servants bring an assortment of gifts into the parlour, some tiny, some obnoxiously large. They’re only the things sent by people of note, otherwise the manor would be drowning in presents from the citizens of the city, but there’s still plenty enough of them that Xie Lian is a little surprised.
“Huh. There’s even some from heavenly officials here,” he says curiously.
Hua Cheng picks at the roasted sunflower seeds the servant has left with their tea, and looks at them like they’re hardly worth more than a glance. Xie Lian elbows him slightly.
“Don’t you want to open them?”
“Gege can do it for me,” Hua Cheng declares.
Xie Lian huffs a sigh and smiles with a shake of his head. He reaches for the nearest one; a red embroidered pouch with gold and silver threads, and checks the label.
“Oh, it’s from Shi Qingxuan,” he says delightedly. “He wishes you the best.”
Hua Cheng doesn’t say anything, but he’s watching with interest.
Xie Lian opens the pouch and pulls out a beautiful, intricately painted fan. Its wood is solid ebony and its inlay is decorated with a swarm of butterflies on deep vines. Xie Lian immediately loves it, and he gazes at Hua Cheng with delight.
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”
Hua Cheng is looking it with a half-smile on his face that says he does; he’s just trying to keep up his act of disinterest. Though his brows quirk when Xie Lian goes to place the fan back in its pouch and a folded piece of paper falls out.
Xie Lian reaches for it and his heart warms when he sees Shi Qingxuan’s familiar writing.
“Many happy returns on your birthday!! Crimson Rain Sought Flower, this fan will allow you to utilise the power of wind for a brief time if you ever need to call upon it—whether that is to defend yourself against an enemy or to blow the fire out quickly, ha ha! And if nothing else, it will make a lovely wall decoration. I hope your day is full of good fortune~”
“That’s nice of him,” Xie Lian remarks.
Hua Cheng scoffs. “Does he think he can’t defend myself?”
“I don’t think that’s it, San Lang,” Xie Lian replies brightly. “Like he said, it’ll make a beautiful wall mount.”
Hua Cheng barks a laugh and leans over to take the fan. He seems to agree that it’s a beautiful piece of art at least, and when he places it back on the table his hands are gentle. He leans leisurely against Xie Lian and reaches to pick up another gift, handing it over for Xie Lian to open.
There is all manner of things being given. Rain Master sends him an assortment of fine food from her farming community that Hua Cheng immediately begins testing. He Xuan sends a finely crafted bone calligraphy brush that gets tossed on the table with a scoff. Pei Ming sends an instructional sutra so lewd that Xie Lian immediately throws it across the room, griping about how he probably thought it was a hilarious joke.
There are several ghosts that Xie Lian hasn’t heard of who are evidently important enough to send things directly to Hua Cheng, all of their items clearly well thought out and impressive. Hua Cheng lets Xie Lian open all of them, offering his thoughts and comments here and there, before putting them aside and moving onto the next.
By the time they’re done making their way through the enormous pile, their midday meal has come and gone and Xie Lian is starting to grow nervous about his final plan for the day. Hua Cheng is picking through the gifts with a little more interest now that they’re all open, and he fiddles with his sleeves anxiously.
He’s not nervous because of what he intends to do; that still comes to him like second nature regardless of how much time has passed. No, he’s nervous about Hua Cheng’s reaction, and how he will respond to what he sees. They don’t talk about Xian Le much, nor Xie Lian’s time as it’s crown prince, so he’s not entirely sure that the attire will bring back unpleasant memories rather than fond ones.
Well, there’s no real way to know until he goes ahead with it.
“Oh!” Xie Lian exclaims after his moment of inner turmoil passes. Hua Cheng looks up at him from where he’s been inspecting the horrifying sutra that Pei Ming has gifted him, eyes raised. “I almost forgot! There’s something else I need to do!”
“What else have you planned?” Hua Cheng says, bemused. “Gege, you’ve already done so much!”
“No, there’s still more.” Xie Lian stands and reaches for Hua Cheng’s hand, lifting him up as well with a gleeful smile. “Come on, we need to go to the kitchen!”
“Kitchen!?”
Xie Lian doesn’t stop to explain. This is the first part of his final gift of the day for Hua Cheng, and he wants to make sure there is plenty of time for all of it.
It’ll take him a while to make the dish he’s been planning, after all.
They make their way through the maze of the manor until they reach the kitchens, and the second Hua Cheng enters all but the senior chefs depart in a flurry, both too frightened or too low of status to be anywhere near him. Neither of them take much notice of that, though, as Xie Lian beelines towards the little area of the kitchen that the chef has set up for him to, as he puts it, ‘destroy perfectly good food’.
“Gege?”
“Sit!” Xie Lian says gleefuly. “Let me cook for you again! It’s been so long!”
Hua Cheng does so, and Xie Lian bustles around the kitchen collecting his tools and ingredients. He has the noodles he made the day before ready to go, so all he needs to do is make up the rest of the dish.
Hua Cheng leans against the bench with his head resting against his hand, watching Xie Lian with a warm smile. “Gege’s cooking me a birthday meal?”
“Of course,” Xie Lian replies. He lays up all of his ingredients on the table; fresh root vegetables, greens, spices and herbs, and begins chopping them up while the wok heats. “You can’t have a birthday without longevity noodles. So I will make them for you!”
“Longevity noodles are a little bit redundant now, don’t you think?” Hua Cheng’s voice is full of amusement.
“It’s the principle,” Xie Lian replies with a firm nod. “I’ve been practicing with the cooks as well, so I’m definitely going to make you a traditional birthday dish.”
“Alright,” Hua Cheng relents, and he settles in to watch as he usually does when Xie Lian cooks for him in Puji Shrine.
Xie Lian is as enthusiastic with his cooking as ever, and has even had the chef write down the recipe to the absolute last detail so that he can’t make any mistakes. He has studied it closely since he got it, and he’s feeling confident that he’s not going to make something disastrous, even if Hua Cheng tells him that everything he cooks tastes good.
He’s nearly curtailed by a fire in the wok when he drops oil in it, but once that gets extinguished he takes a breath and keeps going, not letting his fledgling confidence be destroyed.
It takes only half an incense stick to cook the whole dish, and by the time it’s done he’s feeling rather okay about it. There’s not that many burnt things, and the noodles aren’t all stuck together, so he feels like it’s a success.
He dishes the noodles up in a large serving platter, and Hua Cheng transports them back to the parlour using his dice with the excuse that the noodles will go cold. He’s genuinely enthusiastic when he takes a seat at the table, watching eagerly as Xie Lian serves up a bowl.
He picks up his bowl and inhales the scent with a hum of approval, and reaches for his chopsticks, only pausing when he notices that Xie Lian hasn’t served up a bowl for himself.
“Gege? Won’t you join me?”
“Sorry, San Lang,” Xie Lian says. “There is one more thing I need to do.”
“Then I will wait for Gege to get back.” Hua Cheng puts his bowl back down on the table decisively.
“Ah, no, I made them so you could eat them while I’m gone,” Xie Lian says hastily. “Please don’t wait for me, I’ll be back very soon.”
Hua Cheng has always been a smart man, and it doesn’t take a genius to know that Xie Lian is planning something else for him. He watches Xie Lian for a few moments, as though debating whether or not he wants to protest further, his noodles untouched and his eyes shrewd.
“Alright then,” he relents after a few moments. “If Gege tells me to eat while I’m waiting, I’ll eat. But you’re missing out—these noodles look delicious.”
Xie Lian smiles. “I’ll be back very soon, and everything will be clear.”
“Hurry back,” Hua Cheng replies. “I don’t want to be away from you for too long.”
He leaves Hua Cheng there once he’s sure he’s not going to die from poisoning from Xie Lian’s noodles, and calls for the servant that he’s enlisted to help him get changed. The robes have been entrusted to the servant—a husky-type demon with a lot of experience in dressing, whose name is simply “Yang-xiao”—with strict instructions to ensure they’re crease free and ready to be worn when Xie Lian calls, and they make their way to the dressing room by Xie Lian and Hua Cheng’s sleeping chambers where the robes await.
Seeing them again, despite only having had them on the day before, makes something clench in Xie Lian’s chest. He takes a moment to breathe, remembering that Hua Cheng is going to love it and he has nothing to be worried about.
“Alright, Yang-xiao,” Xie Lian says. “Let’s do this.”
“Very good, Xie-Daozhang.”
It takes longer than the tailor took to get him into the robes this time. Xie Lian is better at dressing himself than he once was, but he still needs help, and Yang-xiao is not as well versed in these robes as he is other types. Rightly so really, seeing as this style of dress died with Xian Le.
They manage to get into it eventually, and Xie Lian settles at the low vanity to allow Yang-xiao to begin working on his hair. He puts on his jewellery at the same time; golden earrings and a red jewel between his brows, and then dusts kohl across his eyes. Then, he takes a moment to breathe while Yang-xiao finishes his hair, sending a swift prayer to Meimei to ask for success.
When he opens his eyes to look at himself in the mirror, he’s even more taken aback than he was the day before. With his hair done up and jewellery applied, he really does look less like himself than ever before, and more like the crown prince of his past. His robes are voluminous and intricate, the fabric selections some of the finest that the tailor hand on hand. They drape over him like waterfalls of pale silk, and he feels both nostalgic and wistful. It’s strange how this kind of thing was perfectly normal for him once, and now he feels like he’s wearing someone else’s body.
“Xie-Daozhang looks arresting,” Yang-xiao says with pride. “Hua Chengzhu is going to be stunned by his beauty.”
Xie Lian gives him a wan smile. “With your help, Yang-xiao.”
“This humble servant merely put the pieces together. The art was already created.”
He stands, takes a few moments to remember how to move in robes like these, and then nods to himself once. He remembers everything else he needs to; it’s difficult to forget something that turned his life around after all, so he’s as ready as he’ll ever be.
“Alright. I think I’m ready. Is everything else in order?”
“The parlour has been cleared and Hua Chengzhu is waiting for Xie-Daozhang as he requested on the lounge. Everything is ready.”
“Alright then. You’ve done well, Yang-xiao, thank you.”
Yang-xiao bows deeply. “Anything for our masters birthday, Xie-Daozhang.”
Xie Lian takes one more breath, and then nods once. “Alright. Fetch my sword.”
Hua Cheng is impatient. Xie Lian can see it in the way he’s tapping his finger against his knee, leaning back on the futon with a wraith butterfly circling his head. It’s a miracle he hasn’t sent the wraith butterfly after him already; it’s been longer than Xie Lian had expected since he left him there, after all.
Perhaps its only because the parlour has been cleared to leave an expanse of empty space across the middle that Hua Cheng hasn’t come hunting for him. Xie Lian recalls the parlour looking like this only once before; the first time he ever came here, when it was full of beautifully clad, stunning dancers. Xie Lian hadn’t ever seen those dancers since, so he gazes a little fondly at the setup. To think that he’d once thought those women were a regular in Hua Cheng’s day to day!
He doubts Hua Cheng thinks he’s arranging dancers like that, though. More than likely, he’s trying to figure out what else would call for such a setup.
A musician creeps into the room on the far wall to Xie Lian’s left, where a guqin is set up and waiting. He doesn’t have an entire orchestra anymore, but that’s not a concern. The music is really only there as a cue anyway.
Hua Cheng sits up when the music starts. It’s slow and crystalline to the ears, and Xie Lian takes one last breath before he’s moving.
The beaded curtain parts around him like a sea of red coral as he steps into the parlour, eyes on Hua Cheng despite his attempts to keep them down like the routine calls. He wants to see Hua Cheng’s face; wants to watch the moment that he realises what is going on so that he can commit it to memory and treasure every second of it.
And that moment is exhilarating.
Hua Cheng’s singular eye widens until it’s as round as a copper coin, and he shoots to his feet with his mouth open. The astonishment radiates from him in such waves that Xie Lian can’t help but smile, and he decides he doesn’t care about keeping his face serious or solemn like the performance demands. He’s here to have fun and put on a performance, and he wants Hua Cheng to know he’s enjoying it too.
He can see Hua Cheng’s throat bob with a swallow, and he raises a hand to stop him from approaching like he clearly desperately wants to do. There’s time for that later. For now, Xie Lian has this one last thing to give him.
Xie Lian takes up his entry pose as the zither music melds into the music of the routine, sword raised and arm outstretched. Once, he’d have had an opponent on the other side, ready to dance in tandem in the role of the villain, but Xie Lian doesn’t need any more villains in his life. He’s perfectly capable of doing this dance alone, with his beloved watching like he once did centuries ago.
The sword rings through the air with a clear glare as Xie Lian moves. It reflects the light in the room in glimmers with every twist of his hand, and his body moves fluidly like he’d been practicing every day of his life. He spins and leaps through the air, pretending to fight another soul, the euphoria of the dance giving new life to all of his memories of this routine.
He catches a glimpse of Hua Cheng through a spin that brings his arms outstretched towards him, and the look on his face is still shock and awe, but his eye is bright and there’s a smile on his lips that grows wider when Xie Lian meets his eyes. Xie Lian shoots him a smile back, feeling more alive than ever in this moment, and he twirls away again and brings his sword across his body in a fierce slash before spinning it effortlessly around his shoulders and back.
The music reaches its crescendo and Xie Lian with it, his body flowing with the notes as he spins and leaps and flings his sword to the climax of his invisible enemy’s attack. This is the part that he never got to in the parade all those years ago, when a child fell into his arms and changed the course of both their lives. But he remembers it, and he kicks out at an imaginary assailant before leaping high into the air, spinning so rapidly that the entire room is a blur.
When he lands, his sword is pointed at the floor, where a neck would be if he had a dance partner with him, in a clear sign of victory over his enemy.
The music flows to nothing, and the only sound in the room is Xie Lian’s heavy breathing.
And then there’s clapping, and he turns to see Hua Cheng standing with the most vibrant smile on his face that Xie Lian has ever seen, madly applauding him through his delighted laughter. Xie Lian beams through his breathlessness, and he relaxes out of his stance so that he can catch his breath. There’s a strand of hair loose on his forehead and his skin is coated with sweat, but all he feels is exhilarated.
“Amazing, Gege! Amazing!” Hua Cheng approaches, still clapping, and Xie Lian falls into his embrace with a weary laugh to be immediately smothered with kisses on his sweaty forehead and temple.
“Did you like it?”
“It was better than anything I could have dreamed,” Hua Cheng says. He places his hands at Xie Lian’s jaw, gazing down at him with such reverence that Xie Lian feels like he really is a crown prince all over again. “You did all of this just for me?”
“I had help.” Xie Lian replies, and he laughs when another round of kisses land on his face. “But I wanted to give you something unique. Anything to make my San Lang feel special on his birthday.”
“I’ve never felt luckier in my entire life. Your sword dances are beyond exquisite.”
“Only for you.” Xie Lian leans up and kisses Hua Cheng soundly on his mouth. “I was worried that you wouldn’t like the memories of this dance.”
“Never,” Hua Cheng declares. “This dance is the very one Gege was performing when we first met. It’s the most important sword dance in the world. Nothing could be more special.”
They embrace again, rocking a little in place while Xie Lian finishes catching his breath. He’s feeling euphoric from the lingering adrenalin from the dance, as well as Hua Cheng’s complete and utter ecstasy at his gift, and he can’t help but grow a little emotional with all of the feelings overwhelming him.
“Gege?”
“I’m okay,” Xie Lian says, smiling through wet eyes when Hua Cheng leans back to look at him with concern. “Just feeling a lot of things right now. But I’m just so happy that San Lang liked my dance.”
Hua Cheng’s eyes are soft, and he brushes his fingers across Xie Lian’s forehead to tuck the loose strand away. “I don’t think there is anything better that Gege could have given me. You always know exactly what I would like, as expected from someone so gracious and clever.”
When Hua Cheng kisses him, he holds him as closely as the many layers of robes will allow, and Xie Lian lets his sword clatter to the floor so that he can wrap his arms around his neck.
“You look so good in those robes,” Hua Cheng whispers against his mouth. “So good. You have no idea.”
Xie Lian hums. “You like this look?”
“So much. Gege looks good in everything he wears, but this is…it’s something I haven’t seen for so many years.”
“Then I’ll make sure to wear it for you whenever you ask.”
Hua Cheng tangles one hand in the loose hair at the back of Xie Lian’s head and kisses him hard, and Xie Lian welcomes him in with everything he has. He’s giddy and sweaty and probably should get changed before they go further, but he kinda likes it. Or maybe…a lot likes it. The crown prince being debauched by the scourge of the heavens has a nice little spice to it, and he files that thought away for another time, when they have the desire to get dressed up and play along.
Now though, Hua Cheng is moving with intent, his mouth at Xie Lian’s neck and his hands at his waist, moving to pull at the belts tying the robes closed.
“Wait,” Xie Lian whispers. It pulls Hua Cheng up short, but his concerned look fades when he sees Xie Lian’s mischievous smile. “Leave them on.”
Hua Cheng’s brows shoot up. “Leave them on?”
Xie Lian nods, biting his bottom lip. “I like the thought of you…doing things…while I’m dressed like this.”
All at once, the confusion fades to be replaced by understanding, and then a salacious smirk. “Gege. Are you suggesting that the crown prince being taken by a lowly peasant is something that excites you?”
“You’re not a peasant,” Xie Lian rebukes with a gentle shove. “But…I think. Maybe.”
Hua Cheng laughs. He pulls Xie Lian’s hands away from where he’s slapped them over his burning face, and leans down to kiss his nose, and then around to his ear.
“Then next time, that is what shall happen.”
True to Xie Lian’s request, Hua Cheng stops pulling at his belts and instead keeps his hips close. Despite the layers, it’s not difficult to feel just how aroused Hua Cheng is, and it makes Xie Lian feel both powerful and beautiful that he can have such an effect with only his appearance.
He’s dimly aware that he probably should have dismissed the guqin master, but thankfully the ghost has taken it upon themselves to leave without a verbal command; it’s pretty obvious what’s going on here.
Neither of the patience to navigate their way back to the futon. Hua Cheng lowers Xie Lian to the floor right there in the middle of the parlour, laying over him as he kisses every inch of exposed skin he can reach. Xie Lian pulls at Hua Cheng’s robes, hitching them up around his hips so he can shove his hand between them, gripping Hua Cheng’s length in his hand. It’s hasty and needy and so damn good, and Xie Lian lets himself be manoeuvred any way that Hua Cheng wishes.
His extravagant and ridiculously layered robes are bunched up around his thighs, and Hua Cheng flips Xie Lian over so that he’s on his stomach, hiking them up still more. It’s an unnecessary amount of fabric and it’s mostly in the way, but they’re too far gone to undress properly now, both of them just wanting to feel the heat of the other and chase the carnal desire rioting through their bodies.
Hua Cheng prepares Xie Lian as swiftly as ever, and when he lays himself across Xie Lian’s back to kiss and nibble at his ear, it’s to the press of his hard length against Xie Lian’s entrance.
Xie Lian’s toes curl in his slippers with the familiar heat of intrusion. He lets out a low moan, and curves his spine so Hua Cheng can go deeper. Hua Cheng slides an arm around his front and grips his shoulder, and Xie Lian turns his head so that he can kiss him hard and messily.
His spent body is coming alive all over again as Hua Cheng fucks into him, his pace neither fast nor slow, and driving in deep with every single thrust. His nerves prickle and the fabric tingles against his skin, and it doesn’t take long before heat begins to burn in his gut.
The movement of their bodies presses Xie Lian’s hips into the floor, and it creates a delicious friction that he chases himself in rhythm with Hua Cheng’s movements. He’s breathless all over again, gasping and hazy eyed and coming undone with every deep thrust into him.
His fingers scrabble at the thin mat on the floor and his hair—already loose from the routine itself—begins falling apart in earnest around his face. He can feel Hua Cheng’s breathing against his ear and Xie Lian turns his head again, seeking his lips. It’s more of a press of their open mouths together than anything resembling a kiss, but Xie Lian raises one arm to loop behind Hua Cheng’s neck to keep him there anyway.
Hua Cheng picks up the pace and Xie Lian moans breathlessly against his mouth. His legs feel weak and sparks skitter down his thighs, and with every hard smack of Hua Cheng’s hips he feels his body coiling tightly with the promise of release.
“Dianxia,” Hua Cheng breaths, and the title sends a thrill down Xie Lian’s spine like he hasn’t felt before on hearing it. His next words skitter out into a shuddery moan, and he props himself up onto his hands so that he can start a ruthless pace that punches the air from Xie Lian’s lungs and sends him dropping to the floor with his head pillowed on an arm.
“Fuck,” Hua Cheng curses. “Ah. Dianxia…”
“San Lang…”
With a few hard, rhythmless jerks, Hua Cheng lets out a loud and drawn out groan, before the breath leaves him in one fell swoop. He drops to his elbows and Xie Lian revels in the feeling of his weight across his back as he continues to roll his hips in staccato, drawing out his climax until he’s shuddering and rasping for air.
Xie Lian’s splayed out with his head on one elbow, and he turns when Hua Cheng seeks him out, sharing messy, uncoordinated kisses. Hua Cheng gradually slows to a stop, and they remain where they are for a few moments while he catches his breath.
Without warning, Hua Cheng rises to his knees, drawing a startled yelp from Xie Lian, which becomes a half-laugh half-cry of alarm when he’s flipped over onto his back.
“San Lang, what are you—?”
Hua Cheng doesn’t reply. Instead, he yanks Xie Lian’s trousers down further around his thighs, and dives between his legs to take Xie Lian’s still aching arousal in his mouth. Xie Lian’s question peters off into a moan which he immediately silences by biting on his knuckles.
He can’t see Hua Cheng over the pile of robes bunched up at his hips, but he can feel him, and somehow that makes everything more intense. His knees bend in lieu of his hips, because Hua Cheng has them in a vice grip to keep them still while he works Xie Lian into a mumbling, breathless mess.
It doesn’t take him long at all; he’s already halfway there, and Hua Cheng’s expert tongue sends him hurtling towards the precipice of his climax fast than ever. He manages to let out a half coherent warning before he falls, lost in the heat of Hua Cheng’s mouth. It hits him hard enough to send his vision hazy, and his toes curl downwards while his spine curves inwards, head thrown back in delirious ecstasy. He can feel Hua Cheng’s mouth still on him, taking everything he has to give, and he only stops when Xie Lian is oversensitive and shuddering.
Hua Cheng emerges from the twisted mess of robes and hovers over Xie Lian with a self-satisfied smile. His hair is a mess and his clothes are still in disarray, but neither of them care for that as he lays himself out along Xie Lian’s body.
He can taste himself on Hua Cheng’s lips. Xie Lian brushes his fingers across Hua Cheng’s cheek as they share soft kisses, the feverish need now sated and all that’s left a lazy, boneless contentment. Part of him is thankful for thinking ahead and not planning any kind of extravagant bedroom endeavours, because he thinks it probably would have been derailed if he had. He knows his husband well enough by now that he fully anticipated this outcome, should he be pleased with the whole routine.
Xie Lian kisses Hua Cheng’s forehead and offers him a lazy smile. “That’s all of your gifts for today. Did you like them?”
Hua Cheng buries his face in the crook of Xie Lian’s neck. “Gege has spoiled me so much, I don’t know what to do with myself.”
“It’s what you deserve.”
A warm kiss is pressed into his neck. “I’m the luckiest man in the world.”
They lay three for a little while longer, until the sounds of servants tiptoeing around alert them to the fact that they should probably move.
Well, it alerts Xie Lian. Hua Cheng really couldn’t care less, but there are some things that Xie Lian just really doesn’t have the face for, and having servants clean up around him while he’s a dishevelled mess from lovemaking is one of them. So at his insistence they pull themselves up, and straighten their robes. Xie Lian’s are creased beyond saving and will need proper laundering, but he manages to set them straight again with Hua Cheng’s help.
Hua Cheng is still running his hands over the robes reverently, his eye bright and warm.
“I never thought I’d see Gege dressed like this again,” he murmurs when Xie Lian looks at him in question. “You really do look as beautiful as the day I met you.”
Warmth fills Xie Lian’s heart and he leans up to kiss his husband tenderly.
They make their way back to their chambers, where the rest of the noodles Xie Lian cooked earlier are waiting, freshly warmed with a tray of tea. Xie Lian has to hide his smile behind his sleeve at the foresight of the servants.
He’ll have to remember to find every single one of them and give them a generous bonus for their help.
Before they eat, they get cleaned up, and Xie Lian is relieved of the extravagant attire in favour of his usual robes. At Hua Cheng’s request though, he leaves the jewellery and kohl on, and they enjoy the rest of the noodles together while Hua Cheng loudly proclaims that this is the best birthday he’s ever had, and there’s no way he’ll ever be able to meet such a standard when Xie Lian’s birthday comes around in a few weeks’ time.
Privately, Xie Lian is quite certain that’s the least true thing he’s ever said.
The following morning sees Xie Lian back in the garden, near the quietly bubbling Crown Prince Fountain in a bed of gardenias. He lights an incense stick and sighs, feeling warmer and more content than ever.
“Your ideas were a success, Meimei,” he tells the tiny, handmade tablet that he’s placed in the garden. “He really did love them, and I made sure he knows that it was all thanks to you.”
Hua Cheng finds him out there when he’s finished his morning business, and they sit together by the tablet in comfortable silence. Hua Cheng lights a stick to go by Xie Lian’s, and they enjoy the solitude together.