Chapter Text
Everything shook around him. Earthquakes on the ground, thunder in the sky, and an incessant whirlwind whipping his robes. He brought his arm to cover his eyes against the brightness attacking his sight. There was noisiness around, but he couldn’t identify the sounds over the huge migraine hammering his head. Ugh.
“...ness?”
Feeling disoriented and having no memories of what was going on, Xie Lian tried to pay more attention to his surroundings. Rapidly blinking to adjust to the light didn’t bring recognition. There were blobs of people surrounding him, and it seemed like they were talking. He couldn’t hear them over the white noise.
“Your Highness?” A woman approached his vision, her expression concerned.
“Ling Wen?”
She nodded, glad to be acknowledged. “It seems His Highness is feeling unwell? I was not aware that ascension could affect health in a negative manner.”
Ascension? What?
“I’m alright. Not to worry, nothing is wrong, haha.” Xie Lian hid behind a neutral smile, massaging his temple. He was still confused and thinking furiously. Was this supposed to be Heaven? But it looked slightly different to the one he knew.
With pursed lips, the Literature Goddess motioned for him to follow. “Maybe we can have this discussion over a cup of tea. It might help His Highness to get back his bearings.”
There was no recollection of what he was doing moments before. Xie Lian vaguely remembered being in his bedroom with his husbands: Hua Cheng and He Xuan. Both Calamities were worried. He was... sick in bed? The scene was fuzzy. Was this his last memory? Or did something happen after? His headache impeded him from probing further. For a moment fear gripped his lungs, he brings his hands to his neck, in search of the well cared ring that grounded his whole existence. But he couldn’t find it. Hua Cheng’s ashes were missing. In its place, bandages and a cursed shackle were mocking him.
He is in the middle of developing a full emotional meltdown when he hears a commotion in the distance.
“Ming-xiong! Wait!” someone yelled, breathless. The voice spurs a memory so violent that Xie Lian stops abruptly and spins around to look for the source. The image of his dear friend Shi Qingxuan running towards him, in all his Lord Wind Master glory, leaves him stunned.
Shi Qingxuan.
Who has been dead for over 300 years.
A shadow moves in front of him before trembling arms desperately enveloped his figure, hiding his vision. It takes him a second to react, returning the hug at the fleeting scent of sea brine and the softness of black robes. Xie Lian hides his face in He Xuan’s neck, an intimate gesture that shocks into silence those around them. He knows nothing of what’s going on, but there is safety in his husband’s embrace. Black Water Sinking Ships. Who apparently, is in his Ming Yi’s persona.
In heaven.
“We are both here.” He Xuan confirmed in his ear. Do not be afraid , his hold seems to say. “Let’s play along and descend.”
Peace settles inside Xie Lian at the assurance. The pounding in his head finally abates enough to allow him to think rationally. It is not the first time he had to deal with temporal amnesia; always a terrible inconvenience, ah. However, both Hua Cheng and He Xuan were with him and they seemed to have an action plan. They must know what’s going on. Maybe an illusion based on memories? Xie Lian just sighs and assents, trusting his lovers.
“Ming-xiong? Who is your friend?”
Make believe or not, Xie Lian is so happy to see an incarnation of Shi Qingxuan again. Even if he looks bewildered at the familiarity between him and Ming Yi. The soft smile he graces Lord Wind Master with is the most genuine he has exhibited since this charade started.
“He is not my friend,” retorts He Xuan, providing no more information. Grasping Xie Lian’s hand, he starts pulling him along to Ling Wen’s palace, who is battling to remain impassive watching the reunion. The whispers of the other spectators are sure to be sharing the gossip in the communication array. It almost seems like they will have an entourage through the journey.
“Ahahaha, you say the same thing to all your friends?” Shi Qingxuan chuckles, restoring his good mood.
Introductions aside, no one is bold enough to dig into the nature of their relationship. Which is a good thing, as Xie Lian is not sure what would be the best answer to that line of questioning. Lin Weng served them tea while explaining the amount of debt he had somehow sunk again. Shi Qingxuan whistles at the amount, while He Xuan presses the bridge of his nose, knowing very well the experience of being poor and indebted to shark loans. This time, Xie Lian doesn’t hesitate in accepting the mission scroll and hurries down to the Mortal Realm with barely a word.
He really wanted to reunite with Hua Cheng. Maybe get a debriefing of what kind of crazy scheme they had fallen for.
*
It seemed his abominable luck was back with a vengeance.
Taking a bite of his bun, he watches his other four companions. He Xuan was at his side, in his Ming Yi skin, eating a plate of pastries all by himself, ignoring the others. The spike of uncontrollable hunger tells he is anxious to get back to Hua Cheng as well. Shi Qingxuan is seated across from him, trailing along because he wanted to help, as “any friend from Ming-xiong is my bestie as well!” And then, further along the table, somehow, Feng Xin and Mu Qing joined them in their alter egos as well, busy glaring daggers at each other.
Lin Weng didn’t even ask for additional support this time, but Fu Yao and Nan Feng still found a way to “audit the obtainment of merits”, as those directly affected by the damages of Xie Lian’s ascension.
At this moment, he can only hope Hua Cheng is patient and won’t murder them all.
“That’s it!” Excitedly exclaimed Shi Qingxuan. “We just need a bride. I could...”
“His Highness will be the bride,” interrupts He Xuan amid bites, looking up at Xie Lian, emotionless for everyone but him. “I want to see you in wedding robes.”
“Eh?” a blush blooms at the mischievous glint in his husband’s eye.
“Oh…” Shi Qingxuan looks at Ming Yi disappointed, before bouncing back clapping his hands. “Then we’ll be the maidens!”
He Xuan shrugs, used to the Wind Master’s antics. A quirk of his lips teases a smirk, before he blanks out his expression.
“We’ll guard the wedding sedan!” Feng Xin and Mu Qing rapidly offered, after a shared look of panic. It was the first thing they haven’t fought over since they joined.
On mutual accord, it was clear Shi Qingxuan was their greatest threat at this table.
*
Night quickly approaches the group and they make plans to spend it in Feng Xin’s temple, the nearest of all options. Xie Lian knows it will be uncomfortable to accommodate them all, but he is too busy finding an excuse to talk with the Earth Master alone. Once they arrive, a new riot starts between his old friends.
“I think I’ll be taking a stroll before settling,” Xie Lian makes a show of rubbing his temples. Fruits and other offerings are being thrown through the air. The shouting is getting on his nerves and this might be the perfect pretext. “My headache is back.”
“Get them to calm down,” the ghost requests to Shi Qingxuan, “or no one is going to be able to rest. I’ll make sure His Highness is well.”
For a moment, Xie Lian feels guilty to leave this chaos to the Wind Master, who is looking overwhelmed at the escalating violence. But he really needs to have an opportunity to know what’s going on. So, it’s with an insincere smile that he leaves the mess behind, He Xuan following his steps outside.
Finally alone and with a privacy barrier in place, his husband takes his hand and asks, “How are you?” The frown on his face betrayed his utmost concern.
Because Xie Lian has learned to accept the care of his partners, he doesn’t reply with the usual It’s fine. Instead, he mulls the answer for a few seconds. “I seem to have lost some memories. Whenever I try to remember, a stake pounds into my brain. Also,” he touches the bandages on his neck, “the shackles are back and I have no spiritual powers.”
The lack of mystical energy coursing through his body is uncomfortable. It’s a trip down memory lane, back when he had no one to rely on. He could certainly survive. The uselessness. The pain. The solitude. But Hua Cheng has taught him how to thrive . Xie Lian no longer takes the bare minimum as acceptable.
“Here,” offers He Xuan, kissing the knuckles of his hand.
A stream of power rushes towards him, leaving him almost dizzy. It is like honey: syrupy, sweet and warm, climbing from his arm to the rest of his being. The way the energy envelops and floods him, is exactly like the black waves that are under his lover’s domain. The heat pools itself in the lower regions of his body. It leaves him strangely sated, filling a deep void he wasn’t truly aware of.
Oh, it’s the same feeling as when he comes... , Xie Lian realizes. A shiver goes up his spine, and a faint blush taints his cheeks.
“Do I want to know what you are thinking?” Teases the other with an arched eyebrow and conspiratorial grin.
“Ahahaha. This one is feeling better, thanks!” He coughs into his hand, attempting to change the subject. “A-Xuan, are we in an illusion?”
His husband allows him to save face, the goading smile turning sour. He keeps holding hands, as if that link grounds him. “What is the last thing you remember?”
“It’s blurry. I was lying in bed sick?”
“You were dying.” He Xuan gazes intensively at him. A hungry look that seeks to memorize all the details that make up Xie Lian. His eyes momentarily shine like a cat’s. “There was a curse aimed at heavenly officials. It spread like a contagious disease. We couldn’t stop it in time.”
That sounds bad. “Am I dead?”
“No!”
From the close calls Xie Lian has had in the past, he knows how much his husbands loathe the idea of death touching him in any way. Gods are not eternal. They are bound to disappear when they are forgotten by their believers. Before, it was Jun Wu’s power that shackled Xie Lian to the Mortal Realm. After his defeat, both Crimson Rain Sought Flower and the Scrap God were revered together. Due to their history, they had become a symbol of love and luck —the latter was more Hua Cheng’s domain than Xie Lian’s—. Their followers only growed.
But the end was inevitable, and of the scarce opportunities they had discussed it, Xie Lian entertained the idea of enduring as a ghost. For them. Which was vehemently opposed by both Calamities. “ The loss irremediably changes something in you. There is a madness; an obsession; contained in the lingering essence of every ghost. Some of us are better at concealing it, that’s all.”
“You are not dead. We would destroy the world to keep it from happening.” assures He Xuan, seriously. “Actually,” he continues, softly, “that may have happened? It’s complicated. But we have branched another dimension by travelling back in time. We based all calculations on your lifetime, as the only one alive. It needed to be aimed at a big trascendental event, so we decided on your last ascension. Going further back would raise the chances of failure. It was a big gamble, and if not for Crimson Rain’s impossible fortune, I’m quite sure it wouldn’t have worked.”
Unbeckoned memories surface with the explanation: He Xuan discussing parallel realities with a bedridden Lin Weng. Calculations with Hua Cheng on the matters of probability. Xie Lian recollecting scrolls containing strange ramblings by disgraced scholars. Long sleepless nights researching with Mu Qing, having lost Feng Xin to the malady. His husbands drawing complex arrays through their bedchambers, Xie Lian feverish in the middle.
“Hua Cheng was not ready to let you go, thus I would also not allow you rest. We are not done, Xie Lian. Who would be sufficiently insane to risk the implosion of the universe for their beloved? Calamities, indeed,” He Xuan darkly chuckles.
It’s heavy, knowing the enormity of what has been achieved. A great sin against the laws of nature. All for a chance to stay together, a persisting moment. Xie Lian figures he might have to revisit this conversation with Hua Cheng in the far away future, when their spirits are more weary and resting in peace didn’t sound like condemnation. He is not that worried about He Xuan, who he knows would follow them to the end of the Earth if needed to.
Has done so.
“I’m surprised San Lang didn’t storm the heavens as soon as we touched the clouds,” jokes the god, trying to ease the tension.
“A-Lian, don’t poke that demon. I volunteered to drop everything and welcome you.” He Xuan rolls his eyes, imagining the chaos of Crimson Rain parading through the streets of heaven and whisking off the newly ascended god. “Luckily, he is back to scheming games. Just play along. He’ll show himself soon enough in all his decadent drama Ghost King glory. You know your husband.”
Xie Lian laughs.
*
No one would believe how romantic and sweet his Calamities were. But sitting in this scarlet palanquin, with Hua Cheng’s hand poking from the outside, and dressed in red wedding robes embroidered with butterflies, flowers, fishes and waves… Xie Lian softly smiles at the reenactment of their original reunion.
There is no rush, nor anxiety this time. He brushes his fingertips against the ghost’s silent pulse point, savoring the moment and caressing small spirals through the palm. His fingers follow his partner’s fortune line, so distinct, he can trace it even in the dark. Then he moves on to his heartline, tapping it twice on the open hand. One for him, another for He Xuan. It’s true Xie Lian didn’t know chiromancy, but he has more than 300 hundred years of spoilers to make a prediction on Hua Cheng’s love life. He ends brushing the red string tied in his third finger, before taking the hand fully and emerging into the night air.
He cannot wait to find himself at the end of his San Lang’s destiny thread, not to be parted again.
Everything is tinted in crimson under the wedding veil and the shining wraith butterflies accompanying their trek. The walk feels intimate and magical. The first time, in a world left behind, Xie Lian was hyper aware of every single sound in his surroundings, analyzing and looking for an opportunity to retaliate. This time, he is enjoying each purposeful step. The burning touch on their intertwined hands intensifies the feeling of safety Hua Cheng projects when he leads him forward. Xie Lian would follow him anywhere.
Through the iron rain, they arrive at the borders of the original array that hid Xuan Ji’s lair. They do not destroy it, but plunge right in. It ripples around their forms. Inside, another is waiting.
It is He Xuan who delicately lifts the veil. He is in his original form, eyes gentle, a gaze only reserved for intimacy.
He is also dressed in red.
At this, Xie Lian has to quiet down an abrupt giggle, wondering what plot Hua Cheng used to convince Black Water to wear his colors.
He Xuan only rolls his eyes, looking at Hua Cheng exasperated. Said ghost is grinning with sparkling mischief. It’s obvious that he is beyond bliss to find himself in the presence of his one true god. Minute trembles on the hand Xie Lian is holding betray his excitement.
Don’t you dare dissolve into butterflies, warns He Xuan in his private communication array with Hua Cheng. They have taken great care to prepare this symbolic reunion. Even at this time, a Ming Yi clone is busy running circles with Shi Qinxuan and the other two fools. They are fighting hordes of enemies no longer native to this mountain. Not that they are aware of, anyway.
“Your Highness…” Hua Cheng drops to one knee, “my most noble, gracious, special someone. This humble one loves you with every wisp of his being. I worship the food you cook, the trinkets you collect. There is nothing you would ask me that I wouldn’t do for you. I would crumble this world into ashes and bathe the heavens in blood, if you only whisper the word.” He kisses the back of the hand still in his grasp. “Grant this loyal believer the honor of renewing our marriage vows.”
“Oh, San Lang…” tears up Xie Lian. Hua Cheng was an enthusiast of symbolism, and it must pain him that in this universe, they are no longer wed. “A thousand yes! Millenia may pass, but the love we share will only grow deeper.”
Xie Lian pulls his beloved up, kissing and embracing him with strong arms. He uses Ruoye to tug He Xuan into a group hug. Black Water hates overly emotional displays of affection, but he lets himself be pressed into the hold, patting their backs uncomfortably. Hua Cheng takes the pause that Xie Lian needs to breathe to touch his forehead against He Xuan’s.
“We have not always seen eye to eye, but I wouldn’t be standing here without your unconditional support. For all that and more, thank you, He Xuan. It would please me if you allowed us to knot our fates together once more. To walk under the same stars, from today until infinity.”
“A-Xuan, please grace us with your company for many years to come. Let us love each other through the ages of time, into the unknown future.”
The other ghost visibly groans, embarrassed. “You both are tooth-rotting sap. I am here, am I not?”
“Yes,” laughs Crimson Rain; free, relieved. “You are here. We are all here .” There is a visible tension that uncoils from his posture, a blinding smile full of satisfaction and happiness draws on his face.
They are reunited. A universe away, but fully themselves.
The small ceremony is done quickly after that. They bow the required three times, and thank each other for this new beginning. Then Hua Cheng re-ties his spiritual thread. First to His Highness, kissing delicately the affinity knot and taking a few seconds to feel the back of his gege’s hand against his cheek. Xie Lian then uses the same string to tie to He Xuan, smiling and blinking long lashes. He Xuan only swallows, overcome with emotion, before performing the same for Hua Cheng. This way, any of them can find the other. A perfect triangle.
“There is one last thing,” announced Hua Cheng, opening his fist. In it rests an inconspicuous silver chain attached to a clear ring. Xie Lian instinctually touches his solar plexus, where those ashes used to rest. A sigh escapes his lips. He missed the reassurance of having that weight around his neck.
Before Hua Cheng can settle them in their rightful place, He Xuan poses a hand on top of the ring. When he removes it, there is a lustrous white pearl embedded in the band.
Xie Lian blinks.
“Wait! He Xuan, it was San Lang who used to have your ashes.”
“We discussed it,” both ghosts share a look of conspiracy. “Right now with your powers bound, you are the most vulnerable.”
If there is one thing the whole jumping-down-the-timeline experience has taught He Xuan, was that if anything were to happen to Xie Lian, there was no point in surviving. Hua Cheng would surely destroy himself. He won’t be able to accept a reality without His Highness. And He Xuan won’t suffer being alone again.
It was also one less thing the other Ghost King would have dangling over his head, on the days he felt like being a brat. A total win on his book any day.
“You both have given me wedding gifts but I don’t have anything to present.” Xie Lian laments.
“Gege, have you forgotten?” smirks Hua Cheng. “In this body, you are a virgin. I’d gladly pluck that flower.”
“Oh…” Does that mean he will have to train this body in the matters of the flesh again? A blush climbs to Xie Lian’s face, and he hides it behind his hands. “What about Xuan Ji?” He desperately tries to divert their attention. There will be enough time in the future to think about the unholy stamina of his Calamities.
“Was she important?” He Xuan shrugged. ”I ate her,” he said unapologetic. “She came to bother me while I was waiting,” is his explanation.
To a Devastation level ghost, that may as well be. Xie Lian only groans, touching his forehead. Hua Cheng nods, “Was it enough? You seem to be starving.”
“I am. I’ll deal with it soon,” confirmed Black Water.
“How are we going to resolve the case, then?” Xie Lian pouts, too used to his husbands’ antics.
In response, He Xuan’s shadow grows and a clone bubbles up from it. It is an exact replica of Xuan Ji, down to the expression of terror she has while dragging her form away from them.
Xie Lian clasped his hands. “I guess we are back on track!”