Chapter Text
“I am the God of Spring, and if I want to stay then you cannot stop me.”
Xie Lian stands beneath the pomegranate tree, the lush greenery of the orchard a far cry from what anyone would ever expect to find in the Underworld. The grass is soft and ticklish beneath his bare feet, and the trickling of the stream that offshoots from the Styx is a comforting balm at the back of his thoughts.
His mind is quite made up.
Mu Qing crosses his arms, separated from Xie Lian by too far a distance to risk any sudden movements. “Don’t be stupid.”
Next to him, Feng Xin glares and smacks his bicep.
“Don’t call him stupid, you asshole! If you’re right and he’s been tricked, then-”
“I haven’t been tricked!” Xie Lian calls from the other end of the orchard, voice more indignant than upset, but certainly protesting.
“He’s been seduced by Hua Cheng, you’re not going to get through to him.” Mu Qing sounds vaguely disgusted as he speaks, but Feng Xin smacks him once again.
“Xie Lian would never fall for that!”
On the other side of Feng Xin, Hua Cheng smirks and leans against a tree, batting his eyelashes innocently at the two gods. “I would never dare presume to even try to seduce gege. I did, however, enthusiastically submit to being seduced. The one doing the deflowering here was the flower god.”
“San Lang!” Xie Lian’s mortified shout comes out higher than it usually does, and even from the orchard gates all three of them can see how quickly he reddens. Mu Qing balks, and Feng Xin looks horrified.
“Xie Lian?!” Feng Xin looks like he could be sick.
Hua Cheng chuckles, low and deep, and the lack of denial causes one to pale and the other to redden in anger.
“I’m only being honest, gege.” He says, bowing his head in Xie Lian’s direction with the smirk still twisting his lips. Xie Lian and Feng Xin make identical choked sounds, and Mu Qing’s control snaps.
“I’ve had enough of this.”
Hua Cheng’s smirk slides a little, because unlike the other two he knows Xie Lian is only bluffing, using the threat of being trapped here permanently as a way to ensure he can negotiate being allowed to come down as and when he pleases. It’s a good move to make, and would likely have worked on anyone other than his two closest friends. Once Mu Qing reaches him, the gig is up, and Xie Lian will lose all of his negotiating power.
But then something shifts in Xie Lian’s face, as Feng Xin reaches out to grab Mu Qing, and Hua Cheng is struck with the sudden realisation that Xie Lian was never bluffing to begin with.
“Gege, don’t-“
Xie Lian’s hand shoots out to grab the nearest pomegranate as Mu Qing reaches the halfway point of the path. If Hua Cheng had a mortal heart it would probably stop beating right about now, but it’s okay, because Mu Qing will almost certainly reach him in time to snatch it out of his hand before he can peel it and extract the seeds.
And then, a perfect set of pearly-white teeth bite straight through the tough, blood-red rind of the pomegranate.
It’s probably the biggest bite he’s ever seen anyone take out of any fruit, and it would almost be comical to watch Mu Qing advancing as Xie Lian tests how fast he can fucking chew, if the stakes weren’t a choice between Xie Lian moving between realms as he pleases and being trapped here for the rest of his immortal life.
Mu Qing comes to a stop in front of the God of Spring, wrenching the pomegranate out of his hand at the same moment that Xie Lian smiles and opens his mouth.
Empty.
Something bolts through Hua Cheng sharp enough to make him flinch, an acute awareness of the man at the end of his orchard that was not there before.
Most people think of Hua Cheng and The Underworld as separate entities, one a cursed god and the other a cursed land of the dead. One rules the other, but they’re separate according to mortal lore.
But it’s not quite true. Hua Cheng rules the Underworld, but he also is the Underworld. He is the one god that can never be replaced, the only one who cannot be killed lest the mortal realm fall into chaos. It is an extension of himself, the only place that catches the souls of mortals and immortals alike. He is the one constant in the mortal realm, the only god that is guaranteed the worship of every single human out there.
After all, a farmer has no need to pray to the sea god, a blacksmith has no need to pray to the earth master, a playwright does not need to pray to the god of war. But every year, every festival, every private shrine in every household, must pray to the god of the dead. Mortals live a thousand different ways, but they all come to him in the end, and he knows the moment one has crossed his threshold. Without him, none of them can die.
Yin Yu may be the one who collects them, takes their obols and ferries them across the Styx to his realm, but that’s only because Hua Cheng has better things to do with his time, and Yin Yu can only do it with his power.
And so he knows, intimately, the moment that another soul joins the Underworld, but this time it’s different. Souls come and go but have very few identifiers, not unless they have left behind impressive legacies. He has never, however, in his entire lifetime, felt a soul settle in alongside his own, filling the space in his chest. It’s as though the Fates themselves have taken their threads and plaited them together, tightly bound and forever unbreakable, as all of his senses become intimately aware of another fate now interlocked with his own.
From the size of the chunk in the pomegranate that Mu Qing throws at him, he understands why.
Just a single seed, that was all Xie Lian needed. But in order to prove his point, he took far, far more than necessary.
Judging by the triumphant smile on Xie Lian’s face, he damn well knows it, too, and it’s exactly why he did it.
And now he’s gained the upper hand in this negotiation.
six months earlier
“I can’t believe you actually came!”
Xie Lian is currently being dragged up to the top of Mount Olympus, his arm looped tightly through Shi Qingxuan’s.
Neither of these are through his own choice.
“You, ah, didn’t really give me much of a choice.”
Shi Qingxuan waves her fan nonchalantly in his direction, as though waving his words away with the action.
“Because it’s a big occasion. The end of the human’s silly little war! The gods aren’t fighting anymore, well, no more than usual. And besides, you could have stopped me if you wanted!”
Xie Lian isn’t even sure where to start. Yes the war over Troy is over, though he’s sure that was months ago, but he doesn't think he can ever envision a world where Shi Wudu and He Xuan are not at each other’s throats, and Shi Qingxuan is not stuck in the middle.
And Xie Lian couldn’t have stopped her, because she burst into his fields and literally sent them both flying halfway up to Olympus before he even realised his wards were down.
“I can’t stay long, it’s the first day of spring tomorrow.” Is what he settles on, lifting the hem of his chiton as they reach the gates to the heavens. It’s open, the wide golden staircase just a few steps ahead of them.
They’ve gone overboard with the decorations, huge banners fluttering away every three steps on either side of the stairs. He’s almost certain he can hear the trickle of an ambrosia fountain, which means there’s probably a giant one set up in the centre of the square.
“You have nymphs! Hundreds of them - you can take a year off, you know.”
Xie Lian shakes his head, an exasperated smile beginning to lift at the corners of his mouth, but any response he may have formed is cut off before he’s even lifted his first foot on the steps.
There’s a god ahead of them, but instead of going up, he’s coming down. There’s a dark atmosphere that settles on the stairs with every step he takes, heavy and pulsing even though his movements are smooth and unhurried. Xie Lian looks up, and is breathless.
He’s tall, one of the tallest that Xie Lian has ever seen in person, inky-black hair swept up into a high ponytail with enough let down to hide the eyepatch that Xie Lian knows is beneath the bangs. His chiton is a deep red, tied in the older style, meaning it leaves his arms and shoulders on almost full view. He’s wearing a himation of pure silk, as crimson as his chiton, all of it tied and connected with delicate silver pins and chains decorated with filigree butterflies.
He’s the most beautiful person Xie Lian has ever seen.
And he knows he’s seen him before.
The God of the Underworld rarely leaves his realm, impatient and unwilling to participate in the frivolity of the customs of Olympus. In the early days of his existence, when Xie Lian regularly and eagerly came up to Olympus at every chance, he had seen him once or twice. They were two opposites though, the Lord of the Dead and the God of Spring, and Xie Lian never had chance to even be on the same side of the room, let alone be in a position to have the gall to approach him.
There had also been that one incident with the attempted kidnapping, when the Lord of the Dead had been called to take Theseus away and imprison him in the Underworld for trying to steal away with Xie Lian, but he had been too mortified to look up at anyone that day, let alone hold a conversation.
And now, of course, Xie Lian avoids Olympus at every possible turn. He’s never had a reason to see him.
Up close, though, he’s even more handsome than he remembers.
Xie Lian raises his eyes to meet a warm, dark one looking directly back at him, and there’s an amused smile on his lips that tells Xie Lian he has been caught staring.
He hasn’t even put his foot on the first step, but the God of the Underworld is already at the foot of the stairs.
Xie Lian automatically bows.
“Lord Hua Cheng.”
To his astonishment, two hands gently cup his elbows, stopping him from completing the bow and encouraging him to stand up properly.
“The God of Spring has no need to bow to me.” There’s a strange rasping quality to his words, as though he’s shocked to see Xie Lian giving him the reverence his higher title deserves. Xie Lian flushes pink, noting that Shi Qingxuan is both Xie Lian’s equal and standing next to him and she hasn’t been told not to bow.
Xie Lian stares at him, entranced by an eye so dark it’s practically obsidian. It feels as though the air has been punched from his lungs, his breath shallow as those hands slide down his forearms, fingertips brushing against his palms before he’s released entirely.
He feels the loss like a gust of cold air.
His mouth is dry, and he is utterly tongue-tied, a feat in and of itself. He’s usually either unflappable or prone to a nervous babble, but one sentence from a man he’s never actually met before and he’s reduced to this?
Get it together, Xie Lian, he thinks.
“Ah, that’s, kind of you. Thank you.” He’s at a loss, unable to fall into easy conversation because of where they are, Xie Lian entering Olympus and Hua Cheng leaving, and he’s all too aware of Shi Qingxuan staring at them like they’ve both grown an extra head right in front of her.
So he smiles instead, one of his rare genuine ones, hoping it will ease some of the tension in the air.
“Good day, Lord Hua Cheng.” There’s a tilt to his lips that speaks of a tease: he’s been refrained from bowing, but he can’t be stopped from using proper titles.
“Spring God.” He flushes under that gaze, struggles to try and understand why. How is it possible that a small smile from the most intimidating of all the gods is enough to send his heart racing?
He has clearly been secluded in his meadows for far too long.
Shi Qingxuan loops a hand through his elbow, bowing politely at the Lord of the Dead before she yanks him hurriedly up the steps. Her fan snaps open, hiding her face as she risks a look behind, and her shallow gasp prompts Xie Lian to do the same.
Hua Cheng is still there, body half turned to watch him ascend the stairs. His smile is knowing, almost playful, looking at Xie Lian as though there’s no one else there. Shi Qingxuan may as well be invisible.
His blush deepens, settles high on his cheekbones under the weight of both Hua Cheng’s gaze and Shi Qingxuan’s contemplative look. Xie Lian returns the smile, feeling his nerves flutter in his chest the longer he looks, until Shi Qingxuan tightens her hold and pulls him up the rest of the stairs.
“Okay, that was weird.” She proclaims once they’re at the top, the entirety of Olympus spread out before them. Hundreds of temples greet him, from simple shrines to huge, multi-level buildings propped up with elaborate painted columns. The Palace of Jun Wu is easily visible at the end, accessed by a staircase wider than some of the temples around him.
Xie Lian notices that he was right about the fountain of ambrosia.
“Perhaps he was just being nice.”
“Nice? I still had to bow! You never said you knew Hua Cheng.” She taps his arm with the fan, the beginnings of a pout on her lower lip. Xie Lian hurries to correct her.
“I don’t. I’ve never even spoken to him before.”
That is…not the right answer, given the way her eyes widen.
“Xie-xiong, that was not a normal interaction between two people who don’t know each other. Are you - are you having secret rendezvous with the God of the Underworld? And you didn’t tell me?!”
He is certain that his face is a violent shade of red - how could it not be, when she’s shouting such things in the middle of Olympus?
“No! Why would you think-“
“What are you wailing about now?”
Xie Lian is saved by the appearance of the Lord of the Sea, whose presence makes Shi Qingxuan immediately drop his arm in favour of clinging to the earth shaker’s.
“Lord He Xuan.” Xie Lian completes his bow unhindered this time. He Xuan waves his hand dismissively, releasing him from any formalities.
“Do not bow to me, that’s the last thing I need him seeing.”
Xie Lian startles, looking up in confusion at He Xuan, wondering what he could possibly be talking about. It’s been centuries since he last ascended to Olympus, but he suddenly feels like he’s been planted into an alternate plane of reality. Is Jun Wu also going to excuse him from being formal?
“He Xuan, did you know about this? He’s your brother, he would have told you, I know you’re close!” Shi Qingxuan speaks before Xie Lian can even try, and his cheeks feel like they're on fire.
“Know what?” He Xuan tries to shake Shi Qingxuan off, but she is immoveable. Xie Lian thinks he can’t be trying too hard, considering he’s one of the three most powerful gods in existence. “And we aren’t close, how many times do I have to fucking tell you not everyone likes their brother-”
“That Xie Lian is having secret rendezvous with Hua Cheng!”
He hangs his head as silence falls, holding back a groan. He Xuan stills, eyes sliding over to rest on Xie Lian’s face with his brows furrowed in confusion.
He Xuan’s laugh is a difficult thing to hear, a low, dark chortle that seems to suck the air from around them. His glee is painfully obvious, and Xie Lian instinctively shrinks away from it even as Shi Qingxuan smacks him with her fan.
“That is the funniest fucking thing I’ve ever heard.” Xie Lian keeps his gaze on the marble floor as He Xuan speaks, feeling that familiar shame seep into him. Of course it is a funny thing to hear, that anyone would stoop low enough to have any sort of rendezvous with him, the so-called God of Scraps. It’s nothing new, a familiar mockery he would usually shake off easily with nary a care, but for some reason it hurts this time.
But then He Xuan continues, and Xie Lian feels the confusion rear its head again. “As if I’d ever hear about anything else if they so much as said two fucking words to each other, never mind a secret affair. He’d be even more insufferable than he already is, pining away in that lair of his.”
Xie Lian’s head spins, even as Shi Qingxuan looks delighted. He turns, expecting there to be an audience of some sort, for this to be the punchline of a joke intended to embarrass him, but there’s no one close enough to hear He Xuan.
“And you didn’t tell me?!” Shi Qingxuan all but wails. “I thought we were friends!”
“Do you have any idea what he’d do to me if I started spreading his secrets? I stay out of his business, he stays out of mine.” He pauses, considering for a moment. “And keep that gossiping mouth of yours shut about this.”
“What do you take me for?!”
Xie Lian tunes them both out as they argue, his thoughts a jumbled mess that he struggles to parse through. He’s never spoken to Hua Cheng before their encounter just now, has only seen him a handful of times in his eight hundred years of existence. They are so far apart in terms of their status that there has never been a need for them to interact, but He Xuan - He Xuan thinks -
No, he must be mistaken, or Xie Lian must have misheard.
The shame from earlier sinks back in, the sense of feeling that he does not belong here taking hold of him again. No one has actually said anything to him this time, but he feels like he needs to leave, ill-fitting and uncomfortable here amongst his fellow gods.
“Xie-xiong, are you coming?”
Shi Qingxuan’s question breaks through the tumult of his thoughts, her voice gentle in that knowing way of hers. She is never unkind, is one of the few who has never mocked his origins, but not even she can make him feel comfortable here once the uncertainty has settled in.
“Ah, no. I think - I need to get back and prepare for tomorrow.” Xie Lian smiles at her, aware it does not quite reach his eyes.
“If you’re sure.” Her expression falters, eyes softening.
He bows to them both, purely on instinct, ignoring He Xuan’s noise of discontent.
He doesn’t look back at them as he leaves, knowing the look he will find on Shi Qingxuan’s face will be a mixture of guilt and sadness.
It is not pity, it never is, but it irks him all the same.
Spring returns to the world, slowly at first as he takes the first steps out of his meadows and starts high in the mountains. Xie Lian weaves warmth into the frozen headwaters of rivers, as Shi Qingxuan sends warmer breezes up the mountains to aid him in chasing away the cooler winds of winter.
He knows he is biased, but it is without a doubt his favourite time of the year.
Where he walks, spring blooms. The buds of lemon trees and orange trees grow into being as he runs his fingers along their trunks, coaxing life back into them and blessing them with productive summers. The wildflower meadows of the mountains burst into life as he passes, replacing the cold, fresh scent of winter with the heavy smell of sweet flowers and tall grasses.
Xie Lian loves it, the feel of winter parting for the warmth he brings with him, the life, as he walks through lake towns and mountain villages unseen by the mortals. He melts the snow at the upland temples, takes the mountain paths down and delights in the song of the birds who return to the land.
Halfway down one of the mountain ranges, he takes a new path, one that has been opened up by mortals over winter. It helps him to avoid the territory of a group of He Xuan’s river deities, one of whom spent a whole week last year relentlessly pursuing him across the mountain range trying to convince him to marry him.
The thought of encountering that particular deity again makes him shiver, and not in a good way.
So he takes the new path, pleased to find multiple groves of evergreens that he does not need to work on. It gives him time to really appreciate the earth as he approaches, the solidity of cold, dry earth and the grey remnants of winter. The earth will soften once he’s left, he knows, when Yushi Huang will take her cue from him and allow the first rains of the season to fall.
At the foot of the mountain, he finds a cave.
The mountains are riddled with them, he knows, but he’s never come across one with an entry cavern this large before. There’s something to it as well, a feeling of foreboding and darkness that radiates out from within. It doesn't feel dangerous, not really, but it is uncomfortable, uncanny.
Of course, Xie Lian makes his way over to it, curious beyond measure.
“I wouldn’t go in there if I were you.” The voice comes from behind him, and when he turns he’s greeted with the sight of a young man, taller than him and well-dressed, clothes redder than blood with an almost mischievous twinkle in his bright eyes.
“Why, what’s in there?” Xie Lian asks, eyes on the youth as he walks up to stand beside him. Those bright eyes slide across to look at him as he pushes his braided hair over his shoulder, before he shrugs with a smile.
“All sorts of different things. There could be bears.” He leans in, voice a touch dramatic. “Or lions.”
Xie Lian looks across at him, cocking his head in wonder as he does so.
He looks incredibly familiar.
In fact, sharpen the teeth and the ears, widen the jaw and remove an eye, and he knows he’s seen this man before.
Xie Lian isn’t stupid. He knows they call him the God of Scraps as an insult, the implication being that he’s an idiot for stooping so low as to clean up after the mortals, but he’s not actually an idiot.
Nor is he blind.
Still, he plays along.
“Ah, I do like to explore, though. When I was little, my mother used to have two of her nymphs by my side at all times, else I’d escape from the meadows and they’d find me in all sorts of different places. I’d always find a cave to hide in, or I’d pretend to be a mortal boy coming upon the lair of a great beast.” He laughs, slightly bashful at the overshare, but the young man beside him grins as though he’s been handed a silver platter.
“That sounds adorable.” It’s a bold thing to say to a god when you’re pretending to be a mortal, but the young man has no shame on his face as he smirks, and Xie Lian laughs all the same. “I wasn’t aware the one who brings blossoms was ever a small child.”
“You couldn’t have known.” Xie Lian says, smiling over his shoulder at his companion. “My mother kept my existence hidden until I was fully grown, lest anyone get any ideas about running off with me.”
It’s an unpleasant thing to admit to, and there’s also the implication that he grew up sheltered under his mother’s watchful gaze. It’s true, though, and he won’t be ashamed. It was a warm, golden childhood, Xie Lian trailing after his mother in the spring as she brought life back to the world. He remembers the flowers seeming so big when she’d pluck them from their bushes and thread them into his hair.
He misses her, he thinks with a pang of sadness.
“Did you ever run away on your own?” The young man’s question pulls him from those thoughts before they can turn melancholy, and it causes a fond laugh to break free.
“All the time. I was a menace. I’d hide in the trees and refuse to come down unless I had my way.” Xie Lian admits, taking a step closer to the cave entrance. His companion follows, his footstep faster.
“Did it work?”
“Of course.” Xie Lian’s smile softens, becomes fonder at the memory of his mother. “She spoiled me. The only thing she never gave me was freedom from this duty. I didn’t want it, after all. What was the worth of immortality if I was powerless to have any control over my fate?”
Ah, but he’s going too far, he realises. This is far too much of an overshare with a mortal man.
“Anyway!” He half-shouts, slightly ashamed. “I think we should go and investigate.”
All humour wipes itself off his young companion’s face.
“No.” The outburst is violent in its vehemence. Even Xie Lian arches an eyebrow in surprise, but the young man averts his eyes once he realises he had shouted. “Gege should not go in there. I’ve heard that this cave is one of the hidden entrances to the Underworld.”
Xie Lian tries not to feel flustered at the term of address. It’s a liberty he’s tempted to call the man out for using. After all, Xie Lian may appear older right now, but if he’s right in his theories then this man is older than him by far. If he’s wrong, then the man is not close enough to him to be allowed to call him gege.
No one is close enough for that.
But somehow, he doesn’t think he minds it.
“Well, it’s not a very well hidden one if I just came across it. Look at it, it’s right out in the open.” Xie Lian walks forward, one hand pressing against the wall of the cave as he crosses the threshold. There’s no change in the air.
“The Underworld is dangerous. You would find it a horrible place.”
Xie Lian pauses, turns his head to look at the young man. “And how would you know?”
That makes the youth pause, and Xie Lian gives him what he knows is an indecipherable smile.
“I read about it in a scroll.”
“Ah.” And then he takes another step in. He’s not really inside, for the roof of the entrance is barely over his head, but the poor youth looks as though he wants to grab his arm and drag him away.
“It’s said that you need permission from Hua Cheng himself too, in order to use the cave to get there. There are traps.” The man is trying his best to look nonchalant, but Xie Lian can see right through it.
Xie Lian is undeniably curious. What is so bad about him going down to the Underworld? He knows he’d be safe to do so, after all plenty of gods have been down before. There’s even a running joke that a trip to the Underworld is a rite of passage for Pei Ming’s illegitimate demi-god children.
So why can’t he go?
“I need permission? Fair enough.” Xie Lian finally turns from where he’s standing in the cave, and fixes the young man with a look so piercing he’s practically pinned where he’s standing. “Will you give me permission to enter the Underworld, Hua Cheng?”
A myriad of emotions seem to flash through his eyes, so quickly that Xie Lian can’t decipher them, until he settles on a smirk and a small bow. A chuckle makes its way out of his mouth, much deeper than anything that he’s said in the last half hour.
“How did you know?”
Xie Lian steps out of the cave, head bowing slightly as he smiles.
“Were you truly trying to hide it?”
“Not really.” Hua Cheng shrugs, his skin shifting, becoming broader and taller as he pulls an eyepatch out from the pouch in his chiton and puts it on. “I didn’t think gege would recognise me.”
Again with the gege. Xie Lian finds that although he’s tempted to be flustered, it makes him feel more amused than anything. It’s cute, somehow.
Though even if it wasn’t, Hua Cheng is the Lord of the Dead. He can say what he likes.
Xie Lian gives him a bemused smile. “I saw you yesterday, Hua Cheng. How could I forget?” It’s only after the words are out of his mouth does he realise what it sounds like, and judging by the almost impish way that Hua Cheng’s lips curl into a smirk, he caught it too.
“Is gege saying I’m unforgettable?”
Xie Lian can feel the blush as it creeps up his neck, staining his cheeks pink. “Now you’re trying to get me to compliment you.” He says, suddenly terrified that he’s going to get tongue-tied again. And, once again, Hua Cheng picks up on it.
“I’m teasing, gege. Please, don’t be shy.” Though there’s still a teasing edge to his words, Xie Lian can tell just by the look on his face that he’s serious. For some unknown reason, the God of the Underworld wants Xie Lian to return to that easy banter they’ve had for the past half-hour and-
-and he does, too.
It’s a strange feeling. He hasn’t made a new friend for centuries, but he wants to now.
Mu Qing and Feng Xin have been his friends since he first inherited the mantle of the God of Spring from his mother. There’s his nymphs, of course, and Shi Qingxuan had accidentally blown her way into one of his meadows a few years later and immediately latched onto him, but aside from those he’s never really been interested in making more. Perhaps, had his mother not left so suddenly, he would have had an easier time joining the gods in Olympus, but their clear distaste for humanity had irked him, and Xie Lian had quickly become a creature of the mortal realm in all but soul and body.
“Well then, Lord Hua Cheng.” He starts, reaching out for that camaraderie and grasping onto it. “Would you like to join me?”
“Where are you going?” Hua Cheng asks, as though he doesn’t know the answer.
“To bring spring back to the land.”
“Then I’d love to, gege, on one condition.”
“Hm?”
“I would prefer if gege called me San Lang.”
Xie Lian cocks his head in curiosity, gears turning as he tries to fathom why he’d want to be called third son. When it clicks, he laughs. Of course, the myths have something right. The God of the Heavens, first to escape the grasp of the Titan Bai Wuxiang. The God of the Oceans, the second. And the third, the God of the Underworld, the first god in existence but the third to escape.
“San Lang. Very well. Would you like to visit the sheep with me? I need to start, ah, encouraging the lambs along.”
Hua Cheng looks delighted. Xie Lian laughs.
And later, when Hua Cheng is sitting on a boundary wall with a newborn lamb in his lap, looking entranced at the tiny miracle of life and also utterly horrified at what he’s just witnessed, Xie Lian throws his head back and laughs, and laughs, like he hasn’t done in centuries.
It’s nice. Even as he reaches out with his bloody fingers and gives the animal a gentle scratch before scooping it up to set it back on its wobbly feet, he thinks this might be the first friendship that he’s elated to start.
Hua Cheng visits him again in mid-spring, when Xie Lian is encouraging lilacs to bloom and persuading peonies to unfurl their petals.
They have seen each other for short interludes in-between this meeting and their first, but rarely for more than an hour or two at a time. Xie Lian gets the impression that Hua Cheng is testing the waters, unwilling to impose if he is not wanted, keeping their visits short so as not to make Xie Lian tired of him.
He wishes he had the confidence to tell him that he would happily spend hours with him. Hua Cheng makes him laugh, his easy conversation and almost flirtatious nature allowing Xie Lian to forget the insecurities that made him seclude himself on earth in the first place. When he leaves, Xie Lian wishes he would stay for longer.
If it had been any other god, he would have been suspicious of his presence, would never have even disclosed the location of his territory lest there be any unwanted appearances, but something about Hua Cheng invites his trust. Perhaps it is the knowledge that he eschews Olympus as much as Xie Lian does, the pair of them rarely making appearances in the heavenly capital.
Or perhaps, a quiet part of his mind whispers, he has allowed He Xuan’s words to ignite a hope in his heart.
This mid-spring day, Hua Cheng appears at the boundary of the Perennial Meadows early in the day, his eyes cast up curiously at the invisible wards, with the intent to spend as much of the day together as he can. Xie Lian blushes fiercely when he is told this, and it only deepens when Hua Cheng notices it and chuckles. It is a low, deep sound that Xie Lian can feel in his bones.
He lets down the ward momentarily, enough for Hua Cheng to walk through, and watches with satisfaction the moment that he notices the complete change in appearance.
The Perennial Meadows appear as though they’re high in the mountains, a huge alpine tundra nestled at the top of a plateau. On approach it looks like very little to be impressed by, hundreds of acres of grazing fields and a few scattered bits of woodland. From the outside, it looks cool and sparse, further proof that the God of Spring does not deserve his title if he cannot even maintain a basic meadowland.
The wards shimmer as Hua Cheng steps through, and Xie Lian smiles at the sight of his eye widening as he takes in what he is seeing. It is an eco-system of its own, miles of wildflowers that grow freely in a lush, green wooded meadow. The trees are far enough apart that no area is shaded from the sun, making it light and airy and bursting to the brim with different types of flowers.
Every tree in sight is a different species, thick apple trees alongside stout olive trees. From where they stand, one of his many rivers can be heard crashing into the rocks at the bottom of a waterfall. All of it is sustained by his own life force, including the wards that keep it well hidden from the rest of the world.
Before Hua Cheng, only three other gods have entered this place. It is a well kept, closely guarded secret, the safest place for anyone trying to avoid the watchful eye of a god.
It warms Xie Lian to see the awe on Hua Cheng’s face. It has clearly been a surprise to him to find that the ward around Xie Lian’s realm was hiding something much more impressive. His eye drifts down to the little fawn that has been following behind Xie Lian for several hours, invisible to him before he stepped through. It peers back up at him, unafraid, and steps closer for a cursory sniff.
“I had no idea the Perennial Meadows looked like this.” He admits, leaning down and offering his palm up to the fawn. It mouths at his hand, little teeth nibbling at his skin before it realises he has nothing to offer it. It returns to Xie Lian, who laughs as he holds out a handful of soft leafy greens for it to munch on instead.
“Very few have ever seen it.” Xie Lian acknowledges, his voice quiet to not startle the animal. He can feel Hua Cheng watching him closely, but does not dare to look up until the fawn has eaten its fill. He knows that Hua Cheng’s expression may be painfully fond, and he isn’t sure how he could even begin to process it. The last time he caught that expression, a whole week earlier, he spent hours afterwards trying to decipher whether it was a friendly fond smile or a romantic one.
“Is gege going to show me around?”
“If San Lang wishes it.” He finally looks up as the fawn ambles off, and yes, he’s wearing that look again, and Xie Lian only has to look at it closely to know that he certainly wouldn’t ever smile at Feng Xin or Mu Qing like that.
“I’d like nothing more.”
Xie Lian struggles to keep the heat off his cheeks, but he manages. He turns, motioning for Hua Cheng to follow, and they slowly make their way through the meadows.
It’s…nice.
They fall into easy conversation, broken only every so often when Xie Lian stops to move a hedgehog off the path, or to pick up a fox cub and place it in Hua Cheng’s arms until they get close to its mother.
There is sweetness bubbling in Xie Lian’s chest as the morning goes on, Hua Cheng beside him and interested in the world he is seeing, Xie Lian’s world. He doesn’t think anyone ever has been. Even Shi Qingxuan, who has arguably spent more time here than anyone other than Xie Lian, is often easily distracted, flitting about and gossiping with his retinue of nymphs rather than appreciating the place as a whole.
As for Hua Cheng himself, he finds himself lovestruck at the sight. It is a rare kindness to see someone scoop up ducklings to reunite them with their mothers, or pluck nectar-rich flowers to hold out to tired bees resting on tree branches. Xie Lian seems to possess an unlimited amount of it, and it is telling when so many of the woodland creatures approach him eagerly, never having learned to fear the touch of a man or a god. He has loved the God of Spring for longer than he will ever dare to admit, but when the fox cub is lifted into his arms with a cheerful smile, he finds that the reality of being in Xie Lian’s presence brings him more warmth than any of his hopeful dreams ever could.
Inevitably, the woodland nymphs eventually catch wind of their god’s special guest, and the tittering begins not long after. It’s subtle, little giggles and hushed whispers that carry on the breeze. Very few of them allow themselves to be seen, unused to visitors, even though they usually do not care when it is Xie Lian. All Hua Cheng can see is shadows and flashes of long tresses, darting between trees as they watch Hua Cheng with careful eyes.
Xie Lian has done much for them. They are only extending him the same courtesy, the same protection that he has given them. He has no doubt that if he were to appear uncomfortable, Hua Cheng would be dragged out by no less than thirty of them, and only because the others would not be quick enough.
“You may be the only male god with nymphs instead of satyrs.” Hua Cheng observes as they walk through the fields. He casts a knowing glance around, prompting another wave of giggles to rise from the woodland. A few hundred metres away he can see a small lake, with half a dozen nymphs lounging around on the shore. One of them watches him, no doubt narrating his every move to her sisters.
“Most of them served my mother when I was a child. I grew up alongside them; it didn’t seem right to cast them aside just because I’m a male deity. And I dislike satyrs in general, they’re often too boisterous and crude.” Xie Lian waves his hand in the direction of the lake. “They’re safer here than in any other territory. I find I have more of them every decade. Six of them are the daughters of Pei Ming, which is, well.”
“Ironic.” Hua Cheng finishes for him. It’s true, there is a certain irony in knowing that the great seducer of mortals and nymphs alike, aware that his fellow gods can be as bad as he is, sends his daughters to the only place the other gods will not intrude upon.
“I turned him away so many times when nymphs that he had chased fled to me. Imagine my surprise the first time he appeared with his eldest daughter, wanting to keep her away from a satyr. I took whole meadows and turned them into hiding places for them, to hide them from gods who can’t understand the word no.”
“You treat them well, gege. Even Ling Wen does not treat hers as kindly as you do.”
Xie Lian frowns, the expression so unusual on his face that Hua Cheng almost leans in to look closer. “That’s not a very high standard to compare myself to. I would never turn any of them into gorgons.”
“No.” Hua Cheng says, voice soft. “You wouldn’t.”
His smile returns to his face. “Another of my failures in the eyes of Olympus, no doubt.”
They continue their walk, winding through the woodlands until they reach the closest edge of the plateau. The world drops away all at once, a vast and seemingly-endless drop off the edge down to the valley floor below. The view is on par with that from the top of Jun Wu’s palace, the largest cities easily seen alongside numerous farmsteads and vineyards.
No one appreciates the view from Jun Wu’s palace.
Xie Lian has several hemp hammocks hanging from between the trees.
“Most of the gods don’t look twice at the mortal world, gege.”
“Ah.” Xie Lian sits on one of the hammocks, adjusting a pillow behind him and planting his feet firmly on the ground to ensure he doesn’t do anything mortifying like tip himself over. Thankfully, they’re far enough away from the edge that there’s no risk of him accidentally falling over.
He’s done that once. He was incredibly fortunate that his visitor that day was Shi Qingxuan.
“I like them. I think their lives can be interesting. I wonder, sometimes, what they could achieve if they just had longer on this earth.” He pauses, sees the smirk on Hua Cheng’s lips, and panics.
Imagine! Saying that to the Lord of the Dead, death personified?
“I mean- you know, ah. Well.” He’s well aware that he’s babbling. Thankfully, Hua Cheng just grins as he sits down next to Xie Lian. The very nature of the hammock means that he’s tilted into Xie Lian, touching from knee to shoulder. Xie Lian is thankful that his chiton is sleeved, for the last thing he needs is the knowledge of what Hua Cheng’s skin feels like against his own.
“Don’t worry gege, I’m not offended. Their deaths are often out of my hands.”
“They are?” Xie Lian turns his head to look at him, and immediately becomes aware that to do so was a mistake. They’re already close enough, but when Hua Cheng also turns to look at Xie Lian, they’re barely centimetres apart.
“Mn. I leave it to the Fates to decide.”
It makes sense, Xie Lian acknowledges that. They live so short a life that looking too closely would risk forming an attachment to certain mortals, and Hua Cheng does not seem the type to form any attachments with anyone.
Xie Lian is the opposite, he will admit. He has had his favourites, is rarely ashamed to admit it.
“I used to get attached to them, when I was very young. I thought I could save them, even the tyrants and the monstrous ones. I would get involved, even when I knew I shouldn’t, that it would fuel the other gods’ dislike of me.”
“You were brave, to try and help them anyway.” Hua Cheng consoles, not looking away. Xie Lian has an alarming moment where he realises that he wants to curl into him.
“I was foolish.” Xie Lian distracts himself by fiddling with the silk band around his forearm.
“It’s brave to be foolish, gege. Helping them, knowing their lives are short, is honourable.”
It’s a nice idea, comforting to one such as Xie Lian, who has spent centuries being mocked for having favourites.
“Thank you, San Lang. You’re the first to think so, even if you’re just being kind.”
“I am the oldest god in existence, gege, so whatever I say must be true.”
He laughs quietly at that, the arrogance of Hua Cheng’s statement oddly endearing. The silk around Xie Lian’s arm begins to twist, activated by his attention and the conversation it is privy to.
“I’m also not kind, gege.”
Xie Lian disagrees with him on that; he has been a delight to be around, even though today is the longest time they’ve spent together, even if they’ve only known each other for just under two months. Ruoye takes that opportunity to make its presence known, sliding across to Xie Lian’s other arm, the one that is pressed against Hua Cheng’s.
“I’ve seen this before.” Hua Cheng says, running his fingers gently over Ruoye when it settles around his other wrist. Xie Lian gives him a nervous laugh.
“I’m not surprised. I loaned it to Ariadne, during the whole minotaur debacle. It was meant to help, but, ah.” The spiritual device wraps tighter around Xie Lian’s wrist, almost protectively. “I don’t think Ruoye had forgiven Theseus for the whole attempting to kidnap me thing. It unravelled into silk thread the moment I left.”
Something dark flashes in Hua Cheng’s eye, startling Xie Lian as he remembers exactly who had imprisoned Theseus in the Underworld for that stunt. Had Hua Cheng noticed him, all those years ago?
Xie Lian quickly changes the subject.
“Do you have a spiritual weapon? I know He Xuan has the trident, and Jun Wu has his lightning.”
Hua Cheng nods, and it brings his face close again. Xie Lian tries to fight off an incoming blush, but is uncertain if he’s succeeded. The heat on his cheeks could be a blush or sunburn.
“Not quite a weapon, gege, but you’ve heard of E-Ming?”
He startles at those words, trying to wonder how he didn’t think of that before. Of course he’s heard of E-Ming, the great beast that prowls the entrance to The Underworld. No soul can get in or out without passing it by, and interlopers are mauled without mercy for daring to intrude. Even the gods speak of it with fear in their eyes, for it is more than capable of overcoming an immortal and dragging them down to the pits of Tartarus.
“The terrifying beast that roams your realm? Is it really that monstrous?”
Hua Cheng shrugs. “She does her job. If anyone tries to sneak past her, is it monstrous of her to stop them?”
Xie Lian smiles at that, and the information that the great beast is a she. It doesn’t sound like she’s an untameable monster if she does as Hua Cheng wishes.
“There are also these.” Hua Cheng opens his palm, releasing a delicate-looking butterfly into the space between them. It beats wings that are as sharp as blades, fluttering up to land on Xie Lian’s shoulder and watching him.
“You control them?”
“Mn. I see through them, as well.”
The butterfly leaves his shoulder, relocating to place itself on a large flower in the tree above them. Xie Lian laughs as it leaves, finding it more cute than he should considering the sharpness of those wings.
No doubt they’ve helped along plenty of souls to the Underworld.
They stay on the plateau edge for the rest of the afternoon, trading stories and tales from their travels in the mortal world. Though there are moments of quiet, they’re not heavy, even if a few times Xie Lian has to look away, overwhelmed by whatever it is he can see lurking behind Hua Cheng’s gaze.
There’s a moment, near sunset, when Hua Cheng looks down at him as though he’s wanting to close the distance between them. Xie Lian almost lets him, but there must be something uncertain in his expression for Hua Cheng’s stunned look changes into a smirk, and the topic is changed immediately.
When he leaves that night, promising to return soon, Xie Lian wishes he’d let him do it.
It becomes a routine. Every day or so, Hua Cheng appears at the edge of the Perennial Meadows, an easy smile on his face that only appears once Xie Lian is in sight. They carry on like this for months, a strange dance along the boundary of friendship and what Xie Lian hopes is romance.
Spring becomes early summer, fades into the final fleeting days of late summer with autumn on the horizon, and Hua Cheng accompanies him as he wanders the earth, allowing autumn harvests to relinquish their fruits and their vegetables.
One day, Hua Cheng arrives as he is performing his monthly cleanup of the rivers, removing the metal scraps from the cities and the natural pollution that seems to gather outside of them. It cleanses the land, makes it easier for the animals to bed down for winter, and he finds it rewarding.
Xie Lian doesn’t think Hua Cheng is too shocked to arrive and find him fishing out metal sludge from a stream, alongside hundreds of mis-cast coins, but it doesn’t hurt to explain.
“Ah, San Lang! This is part of, ah, why they sometimes call me the God of Scraps.”
Sometimes is being very nice about it.
“Part of?”
Xie Lian steps out of the stream, his hemp bag almost full with all kinds of metal trinkets and trash that has ended up in the rivers.
“Well. They called me it more after they realised that I spent some of my free time cleaning up the rivers and then handing the bags over to human merchants, but they were already calling me it after- after what happened with my mother.”
A darkness passes over Hua Cheng then, and Xie Lian gets a glimpse of the terrifying presence that he must possess as Lord of the Dead. He doesn’t look angry at Xie Lian, but angry for him.
“That’s rich, coming from them.” A pause, then, a calculating one at that. “Would gege like some help?”
“Ah, no, it’s fine. I’ll grab those bags and then we can head back to my realm.” Xie Lian’s smile is grateful, feeling that the offer was more out of politeness than a wish to help. Hua Cheng seems set on dismantling that opinion quickly, however, hauling the three bags of scrap over his shoulder with an impish smile.
“San Lang! You didn’t have to do that.” Xie Lian grumbles as he ties his final bag, not wanting his reputation to rub off on him. Hua Cheng wishes he could emphasise, in excruciating detail, how much he could not give a fuck what Xie Lian’s reputation would do to his own.
Later, when the bags have been abandoned in the meadows of Xie Lian’s realm, they lie on the grass embankment of one of Xie Lian’s huge rivers. It’s relaxing, the soft babbling sound of the river serving to keep Xie Lian grounded.
He needs it, what with Hua Cheng so close. His feelings have long transformed from gentle friendship to something much deeper. Xie Lian fears that he lives in a state of constant anxiety, trying to keep his emotions under check to stop himself from ruining this new friendship. He has no idea if Hua Cheng wants him in that way, for he has never overstepped, never touched when not invited to.
But then there are other times, like this, when they lie side by side, closer than is normal for two immortal friends, both of whom are known for being famous recluses. Xie Lian feels his heart speed up every time their arms brush, or their hands, wanting to reach out for more. He wants Hua Cheng’s friendship, but he also wants more.
He’s contemplating this as they lay by the river, wondering what Hua Cheng would do if he were to voice his thoughts. Hua Cheng has also been oddly quiet, in a curious way as though he is trying to figure something out.
Finally, he has the courage to ask.
“What happened to your mother?” Hua Cheng’s voice is soft, a comfort to the ache that the question sparks in Xie Lian’s chest.
“You don’t know?” Xie Lian props himself up on one of his elbows, resting his chin in his hand. The free one starts to slowly pull up blades of grass, oddly nervous.
“I don’t. I hadn’t left the Underworld for years, and when I finally did emerge the Goddess of Spring had been replaced by her son that no one had known existed.”
“Ah. You may be the only one who doesn’t know then, San Lang. She, ah-“ He cuts himself off, trying to find the words to explain it, to convey how his mother’s actions have led to where he is now, easily mocked for a love of humans that the other gods like to claim is genetic.
Laid on his side, propped up by his head resting on his bicep, Hua Cheng reaches out and curls his hand over Xie Lian’s to stop him from ruining the grass. “You don’t have to tell me if you’re uncomfortable, gege.”
“No, San Lang, it’s not that I’m uncomfortable, it’s just… the other gods, it was funny to them, once the truth came out.” Xie Lian looks down at his hands for a second, feels the warmth gathering on his skin from Hua Cheng's touch. He can tell him without fear or being ridiculed, he knows, but old habits of silence are hard to break. Xie Lian inhales, trying to calm his heart, and decides to trust him with this.
“She fell in love with a mortal man, the first king of one of the first human cities. I would have been a normal demi-god had she not done what she did, San Lang. I shouldn’t even be here, I should have lived a mortal life. I was raised in secret until the day I turned seventeen, when she gave me her divinity and crowned me the new God of Spring, and she left to join my father as a mortal woman.”
Xie Lian goes to pull at more of the grass, but Hua Cheng tucks his hand beneath and interlocks their fingers together. It makes Xie Lian feel like his heart is going to pound out of his chest, such a small point of contact that makes him feel so much. “They called me God of Scraps, too, because I’m the only God who wasn’t born into his role. I got the scraps after my mother decided to leave me, is their logic. It’s why they call me flower-crowned, San Lang. It’s not meant to be a nice epithet, it’s because my mother didn’t have a golden crown to give me because she went behind Jun Wu’s back.”
Hua Cheng shifts a little on the grass, and there’s such sincerity on his face that Xie Lian wants to hide away from it. “If it makes gege feel better, I think a flower crown would suit you far more than the gaudiness of gold. The greatest show of your power would be a crown filled with rare and beautiful flowers. Can they coax life into the world like you do, gege?”
The grip on Xie Lian’s hand is tight, but it’s grounding. “No.”
“Exactly, gege. So fuck the lot of them, useless trash.”
If Xie Lian’s giggle is a little wet, Hua Cheng makes no comment on it, only releases his hand when Xie Lian lowers his head to bury it in Hua Cheng’s shoulder. It’s so easy to relax into it when Hua Cheng wraps his arm tightly around him, as though his embrace alone could squeeze out eight hundred years of feeling inadequate.
Lying there in the sun, the river flowing behind them and the air filled with the scent of fresh flowers and grassy banks, Xie Lian realises that despite his admission he feels content, lighter than he has in decades.
He had not realised how lonely he had been, how much he had allowed it to crush him, until Hua Cheng had stepped into the darkened corners of his heart and lit all the lanterns, sweeping away the loneliness and replacing it with what he hopes could be love.
When Hua Cheng goes to leave that evening, he tightens his hand over Xie Lian’s where it rests in the crook of his elbow.
“Gege?”
“Hm?” Xie Lian is distracted by a badger trying to get out of the boundary, and he shifts it gently with his foot.
“When I next visit, would you…” He pauses, and Xie Lian fixes him with his full attention. It is an unbelievable sight, after all, Hua Cheng’s steady confidence seeming to fail him for the first time. “Would you want to see the Underworld?”
Xie Lian’s eyes widen, and Hua Cheng back pedals.
“Forgive me, gege, it was a terrible question. I shouldn’t have put that on you.”
Xie Lian steps closer to him, refusing to allow him to remove his hand from above his own.
“No! San Lang, I - of course I’d like to see the Underworld. It’s your home. I never asked in case you were as private about it as I am about the Perennial Meadows.”
Something in Hua Cheng relaxes at the reassurance in Xie Lian’s words.
“I am, but I would never hide it from gege.”
“Then I’d love to see it.”
It’s another step forward in this thing that dances between them. Only a handful of gods are allowed into the Underworld, and even fewer would willingly venture there. That Xie Lian has been invited is a huge thing, especially given how private Hua Cheng is about the place.
Xie Lian smiles, and feels as though he’s barrelling head-first into what is almost certainly love.
On the first day of the last month of summer, Xie Lian meets Hua Cheng on the banks of the Styx.
He is… excited for this visit. He has wondered if the rumours about the Underworld are true, if it really could be a miserable and dark place. With what he knows of Hua Cheng, he doesn’t see how it could be.
Hua Cheng greets him with his usual smile, as though seeing Xie Lian is one of the highlights of his day. It feels like a rare smile, one that no one else will have ever had the privilege of seeing firsthand, and it warms him through to his bones.
The Styx melts away the further down it they travel, reaching a point where five rivers all flow into one giant lake. The gates of the Underworld stand tall on the other side, black and red and imposing enough that even Xie Lian feels a little uneasy on his first view of them.
Hua Cheng steps closer to him as he steps out of the little skiff, eyes searching the shadows, and ah. Xie Lian almost forgot about E-Ming.
He doesn’t feel scared, oddly enough. With Hua Cheng beside him, how could he be?
The beast that slinks out of the shadows is enormous, fur as black as night with three huge, feline heads, with each nose longer than his entire body. Between all three of the heads there is only one eye, blood-red and radiating a light in the darkness of the Underworld, and he realises that no matter how hard he looks he can’t actually tell which head the eye is on, nor which socket it belongs to.
It’s a huge thing, though not any animal he has ever seen before in his life. It could be an oversized cat, if cats had leg muscles larger than the span of his arms, or if they looked like they’d happily swallow you whole. It’s utterly terrifying, and if he’d been standing here with anyone other than Hua Cheng he thinks he might have turned and fled before it had even stepped out the shadows.
And then, to his amazement, the middle of the three giant heads lowers, nuzzling at Xie Lian with such force that he nearly topples over. Hua Cheng steadies him with a hand to his lower back, just as a hot gust of air is blown onto him from the animal’s nostrils.
“Gentle.” Hua Cheng warns, rolling his eye, as Xie Lian reaches out a hesitant hand and runs it up and down the upper side of the animal’s nose.
“This is E-Ming? The Guardian of the Underworld, the one who makes them all quake in fear up in Olympus?” Xie Lian asks, not quite in disbelief, but it’s close. All he’s heard about this animal is that it is a vicious, god-eating monster who will consume those in the Underworld who misbehave and try to leave.
“She’s only being nice because she likes you, gege.” Hua Cheng says, refusing to reach out and scratch beneath her chin. Xie Lian does it instead, and enjoys the smile on Hua Cheng’s face even as his chiton begins to feel a little damp from the beast’s hot breath.
“What is she?” Xie Lian asks, feeling a little stupid. She looks like a gigantic lioness, only black, but he doesn’t think that’s a thing.
“She’s a panther, gege. Years ago, long before you became the God of Spring, Xuan Ji tried to pass her off as a cute pet for the first of Pei Ming’s illegitimate demi-god sons. He Xuan caught her in time to bring her to the Underworld to pay off part of his debt to me.” Hua Cheng keeps his eye on her even as she lowers her body down to the ground, gigantic paws settling on either side of them. Claws sharper than any blade he has ever seen extend and then retract repeatedly, in time with Xie Lian’s gentle scratches along her nose.
“She’s adorable.” Xie Lian whispers, like it’s a secret. Hua Cheng’s hand tightens where it’s still pressed into the small of his back, and when he looks behind there’s an expression of mock outrage on Hua Cheng’s face.
“Adorable. Gege, she’s supposed to be terrifying.”
“But look at her! Her fur is so soft, San Lang!” Xie Lian can’t help himself; he takes a closer step towards E-Ming, reaching out for the fur on her neck, and is thrilled when he finds his hands sink so deeply into lush fur that they disappear.
He scratches when he reaches tough skin, and the gigantic, three-headed panther swishes her tail in contentment. Xie Lian gives Hua Cheng a look, ready to say see? Adorable.
Words fail him, though, when he catches the look on Hua Cheng’s face. He looks almost unbearably fond, as though the feeling is fit to burst inside of him and he’s only holding back by the skin of his teeth. Xie Lian knows that feeling all too well, because it’s also welling up inside of him. It suits Hua Cheng, makes him look softer in the ethereal light from the river and the lanterns.
It’s too easy to imagine turning around fully, stepping into an embrace that he thinks could be welcomed. Even now, he misses the warmth of Hua Cheng’s hand on his back, even though the memory of it makes it easier to imagine that arm twined around his waist and pulling him in.
E-Ming breaks him out of his wandering thoughts before they can go any further, lowering her right head and trying to bump it against him affectionately. It’s cute, only she’s a huge monster and he’s one of the shorter gods, and it sends him stumbling sideways.
Hua Cheng catches him, of course. His hands curl around Xie Lian’s biceps, steadying him and pulling him back a little, and oh dear. It presses his back against Hua Cheng’s chest, so close that he can feel the whisper of his breath on the back of his neck.
“I’m selling you to the rain goddess if you’re not careful. See if you’re capable of being the strongest beast when you’re up against that ox of hers.” There’s no heat to his words despite how sternly they’re spoken, but Xie Lian is too distracted to notice. Hua Cheng is right there, leaning forward to look at his beast head-on, but when he speaks all Xie Lian can notice is how close his lips are to the shell of his ear.
In response to his words, E-Ming thumps her tail off the floor and rises back onto her feet. Xie Lian reaches out and tries to give her one last pat, which she lowers her right head to allow him to do so.
The purr that rumbles through the cavern seems pointed in its intensity, even as Hua Cheng waves her off. She goes, slinking back towards the entrance.
Xie Lian turns his head to the side to look at Hua Cheng, who is still holding him by the arms.
“Don’t, gege.”
“But-“
“I don’t want to hear it-“
“-she’s so cute, San Lang!”
“She’s my terrifying, man-eating, vicious, half-rabid beast. Devourer of lost souls, the bane of the damned.”
“And she’s also-“
“-not cute.” Hua Cheng finishes for him. Xie Lian leans his head back against Hua Cheng’s shoulder, laughter flowing from his lips like a river breaking through a dam. His cheeks hurt from the smiling, and he can feel Hua Cheng staring down at him even as he huffs out a laugh of his own.
Xie Lian doesn’t know if Hua Cheng pulls him closer, or if he just leans back naturally, but he does know that he wants nothing more than for Hua Cheng to release his arms and lower those rough hands to settle them on his waist. He relishes the closeness anyway, and doesn’t realise that he’s allowed his eyes to slip shut until he hears Hua Cheng inhale sharply above him, and the hands around his bicep tighten involuntarily.
“Is gege done for the day?” Hua Cheng murmurs into his ear after a moment of trying to pull himself together. “I still had so much left to show him.”
It takes a moment for the words to register, but Xie Lian immediately straightens once they do, already able to tell that his face is violently flushed.
“Ah, no, of course not! Lead on, San Lang.”
Hua Cheng releases his arms, and Xie Lian feels the loss immediately. It is both embarrassing and terrifying how much he wants those arms back on him, preferably around him, holding him close and allowing him to bury his face in that solid chest.
Is that weird? Probably, he thinks.
But Hua Cheng must be feeling bold, because once Xie Lian turns to face him he slides one hand down Xie Lian’s arm, the movement whisper-soft and gentle, and then takes his hand into his own.
“Come, gege, I’ve got something to show you.”