Chapter Text
Peace was a rare thing in their world, a fragile thread that frayed easily. But after the long battle and the final fall of Wuliang, Ne Zha and Ao Bing had found a semblance of quiet. No more bloodshed, no more desperate gambles. Just morning light filtering through mountain fog, the soft lapping of water against temple stones, and the comfort of knowing the world wasn’t falling apart.
They’d earned this peace… or so they thought.
It started small…strange stones, cold and pulsing faintly with an eerie glow, sprouting like weeds in forgotten places. The earth cracked around them. Animals fled the areas. Birds refused to sing above them. Even seasoned cultivators felt uneasy when drawing near. The heavens were quiet, but Ao Bing’s instincts told him something wasn’t right.
“I’ll investigate it myself.” Ao Bing said one morning, pulling on his traveling robes, glinting faintly in the morning sun.
Ne Zha frowned, arms crossed. “You don’t have to go alone.”
“I won’t. I’ll take mercenaries, skilled ones.” Ao Bing’s voice was calm, steady. “But I need you to stay here, Ne Zha. Keep training. Make sure nothing stirs while I’m away.”
Ne Zha clicked his tongue, clearly displeased, but he knew better than to argue when Ao Bing used that voice. So he nodded, reluctantly.
“Don’t die.” he said instead.
Ao Bing smiled, the kind of smile that promised a return. “I won’t.”
The trek was long and treacherous. For days, Ao Bing and his group moved through twisting ravines, dense forests, and crumbling cliffs. The deeper they went, the more unnatural the world became. Flowers refused to bloom. The wind whispered in forgotten tongues. Time passed strangely.
And then they found it.
At the heart of nowhere, where two mountains kissed the sky, stood two towering statues of Buddha, carved in impossible scale, ancient and weather-worn. Between them, a gate, black stone covered in veins of crimson crystal, pulsed like a heartbeat. Silent. Sealed.
No one could open it.
Then chaos erupted.
Without warning, members of Ao Bing’s group turned on each other… eyes wild, voices unrecognizable. Blades flashed. Screams echoed. Blood spilled on sacred earth.
“Stop!!!” Ao Bing roared, leaping between them, trying to restrain, to reason, but their minds were not their own.
And then… stillness.
His limbs seized. His breath hitched.
A voice, soft as silk and sharp as steel, curled into his ear. “Bring the Demon Orb to me.”
A cold shiver raked down his spine. His eyes flared red. And then darkness swallowed him whole, as he fainted.
***
Meanwhile, high in the mist-veiled mountains, Ne Zha was… gardening.
“Without using your powers!” his master reminded again, voice calm but firm, like the edge of a blade wrapped in cloth.
Ne Zha squatted in the dirt, brow furrowed. “I’m literally a god. Why am I planting cabbage ?”
“Because you need patience.” the rounded man said, sipping alcohol like sipping tea. “You cannot punch nature into blooming.”
Ne Zha huffed, but didn’t argue. He dug carefully, dirt caked under his nails. The work was slow, tedious, and it made him think, which was dangerous.
Ao Bing had been gone two weeks. He was supposed to be back by now.
The silence stretched too long. Ne Zha glanced at the garden, neat rows now. He had, of course, finished in record time despite the “no powers” rule. He sighed, brushing dirt off his robes, and wandered into the nearby pavilion.
His master was already waiting. “Do you understand the lesson ?”
Ne Zha blinked. “That I’m very good at gardening ?”
A sigh. “No, Ne Zha. You can’t force life to grow. You nurture it. You wait. The world has its own rhythm.”
He tried to listen. Really. But his mind was already elsewhere.
Later that day, he walked through the familiar halls of his childhood home. The scent of incense still clung to the air. Walls he once punched in frustration now stood repaired, covered in scrolls and relics of a different life.
He found his father in the study… older, lines deeper around his eyes, but still holding himself with quiet strength.
They talked. Then he thought about his late mother...
Ne Zha asked, unexpectedly, “How did you meet Mother ?”
His father’s eyes softened, distant. “She was… radiant. Stubborn. Smarter than me.”
Ne Zha listened as he spoke of her kindness, her fury, the way she made the world feel less lonely. His voice cracked when he brooded over the day she died.
Ne Zha stared at the floor. “Did you know you loved her ? Right away ?”
“No…” his father said after a pause. “But I knew I didn’t want to imagine a life without her.”
Ne Zha thought of Ao Bing. Of the way he smiled when Ne Zha was angry, of the way he never give up even when the world was ending. Of the way his absence was like missing a piece of himself.
“But we’re just friends…” Ne Zha muttered, talking to himself. “Aren’t we ?”
His father gave a tired smile. “Love isn’t the same for everyone, son. But when you find it, you’ll eventually know.”
Ne Zha wasn’t sure he believed that. But he wanted to.
He sensed it before he heard it. A flicker in the wind. A pull in his chest. Then…footsteps.
Ne Zha ran, heart hammering, rounding the corner with reckless speed, and there he was.
Ao Bing.
Dust-streaked, travel-worn, but alive.
Ne Zha didn’t think, he just launched forward and crashed into him, arms thrown around him so tightly it might’ve hurt someone else.
“You’re back.” Ne Zha mumbled into his shoulder. “You’re really back.”
Ao Bing chuckled softly, returning the embrace. “Missed me?”
“Not that much...” Ne Zha muttered, sniffling without realizing it.
They pulled apart slowly, just enough to see each other’s faces, smiling.
“Where’s your team ?” Ne Zha asked.
Ao Bing’s expression didn’t change, his eyes briefly flashed red—just for a second. “They returned home. Missed their families.”
Ne Zha nodded, not noticing anything suspicious...
That evening, they sat around the dinner table, a quiet family scene. The candles flickered softly, casting gold light across the old walls. Ne Zha’s father served them himself, pouring tea with practiced hands.
Ao Bing spoke, tone calm, but something in his voice felt distant.
“I found the source of the stones. Deep in the forest, beyond any path. Guarded by giant Buddha statues. And a door… like no door I’ve ever seen.”
“A door ?” Ne Zha leaned in.
“Indestructible. Sealed with something ancient. I could feel it, it was like the air itself recoiled. There’s something dangerous behind it. Something… watching.”
Ne Zha’s brows drew together. “So what now ?”
“I need to take you there…” Ao Bing said, a sudden glimpse of red in his eyes. “It’s too much for one person. If we’re going to stop this, we need to act fast.”
Ne Zha looked to his father, then to Ao Bing. “We’ll leave tomorrow. My master can inform the heaven realm. We’ll go ahead and assess. They’ll keep up after us.”
Ao Bing nodded. “Agreed.”
That night, as the moon hung low and silver over the world, Ne Zha sat alone on a tree, staring up at the stars. He couldn’t sleep.
He kept thinking about his father’s words.
And about Ao Bing, how his return had filled a void he didn’t even realize had been growing.
Something stirred in the wind. The scent of ash. The whisper of fate.
Whatever lay behind that door… they were going to face it together.
No matter what.
***
The morning air was crisp, biting the skin with a lingering chill, but Ne Zha barely felt it. The horizon was still dark, tinged in grayish blue, and dew clung to the temple stones. He stood at the steps of his home, his small garden still soaked in shadow. Behind him, Ao Bing waited, serene as ever.
Ne Zha turned toward his father, who stood with arms folded, silent.
“Take care of the plants while I’m gone.” Ne Zha said, trying not to sound awkward about it.
His father raised a brow. “The plants ? You ?”
“They’ll die without me.”
“Hmm.” A rare smile. “Try not to make a bigger mess out there than you already did in the garden.”
Ne Zha snorted. He wanted to say more, but instead, he turned toward Ao Bing and nodded. “Let’s go.”
They leapt into the sky. Above the clouds, with the wind screaming in his ears, Ne Zha shouted, “How long until we get there ?” Ao Bing glanced over, eyes glowing in the early light. “Less than two days.” Ne Zha grinned. “Bet I can beat you there.”
Ao Bing’s smirk was the only warning he got before a brilliant, serpentine form burst forth from Ao Bing’s human body, scales gleaming in hues of ocean blue and pearl, long antlered horns arcing through the sky like blades. His dragon form glided forward with graceful speed.
Ne Zha summoned his fire wheels with a burst of flame, heat licking the air as he took off like a comet.
They raced.
Clouds parted for them. Birds scattered. The sky itself held its breath.
Halfway through their journey, they stopped near a river running cold and fast through a valley of quiet stone. Evening finally came.
Ne Zha gathered dry wood, stacking it methodically, though he lit the fire with just a flick of his fingers, much to his master’s imaginary disapproval. The flames crackled in the quiet, casting dancing shadows against the trees. Ao Bing, near the edge of the water, stood still and serene, his reflection rippling as he was fishing.
The contrast between them always amused Ne Zha. Ao Bing was gentle, honest, caring... full of qualities. Who wouldn’t love him ? Meanwhile, thinking of himself just made him laugh…
Ao Bing returned with a couple of plump fish, silver scales glinting in the firelight. They cooked them over the flames, eating beneath the arching limbs of an ancient tree, silence stretching comfortably between them.
As Ne Zha chewed, he noticed something.
Ao Bing’s horns had grown. They curled upward with elegance now, smooth and symmetrical. There was something… regal about them. Something mature.
Ne Zha stared openly. “Your horns got bigger.”
Ao Bing blinked. “They do that.”
“You also got prettier. Which is unfair.” Ne Zha muttered through a mouthful of fish.
Ao Bing tilted his head. “I’m not sure how to respond to that.”
Ne Zha leaned back against the tree, watching the fire flicker in Ao Bing’s pale eyes. “If I may ask, do you have a mother ?”
Ao Bing blinked again, slower this time. “No. Female dragons don’t exist.”
Ne Zha gawked. “Wait—what?”
Ao Bing chuckled softly, clearly amused. “We reproduce asexually. One parent. No partners needed.”
Ne Zha stared at him, eyes wide. “That’s… lonely.”
Ao Bing looked down at his half-eaten fish. A silence fell. Then, curiosity nudged at Ne Zha again.
“Can dragons… fall in love?” he asked, a little too quickly.
Ao Bing looked up at him. And this time, he looked flustered.
“Yes” he said quietly. “We can.”
His eyes searched Ne Zha’s face, the dragon’s cheeks all flushed. “Do you think that’s strange ?”
Ne Zha opened his mouth, then closed it. His heart pounded for no good reason.
“No!” he said, maybe a little too loud. “I mean no, it’s not weird. I think it’s… kind of nice.”
Ao Bing’s lips curled in a small smile. He looked down, hiding his face in the shadow of his hair.
Ne Zha stared into the fire, his cheeks uncomfortably warm. He didn’t know what they were doing under that tree, but the silence felt heavier now… like something had been said without actually being spoken.
Eventually, Ao Bing stood and brushed off his robes. “We should sleep. We’ve still got a long day tomorrow.”
Ne Zha nodded, standing too. “Right. Mission stuff. Big dangerous doors. Got it.”
But even as they laid beneath the stars, side by side with nothing but a thin layer of silence between them, Ne Zha’s thoughts refused to quiet until sleep finally claimed him.
As dawn slowly crept upon them, they resumed their journey in quiet determination.
By the time they reached the place, the sky had turned the color of steel. It loomed over them like an omen. They reached their final destination.
Ne Zha stared up at the door. It was larger than anything he had imagined… towering, monolithic, covered in veins of glowing red crystal. The stone hummed faintly, vibrating beneath his feet. It wasn’t just sealed, it felt alive.
Ao Bing’s breath hitched.
His feet refused to move.
His hands trembled.
“Ao Bing ?” Ne Zha reached for him. “What’s wrong ?”
“I… can’t…” Ao Bing whispered, voice strained. “My body—something’s stopping me... I can’t move.”
Ne Zha turned fully to him, taking his hand. “Then take my strength. You’re not going in alone.”
Their fingers laced for only a second, but something passed between them, something warm. Ao Bing blinked, as though waking from a trance.
He nodded.
They stepped forward together.
Ne Zha reached out to examine the door but before his fingers could touch it, it creaked open on its own. Slowly. With purpose.
The two shared a look. Neither said a word. They realized they had no choice but to move forward, as their presence was acknowledged.
They entered.
What lay beyond the door wasn’t the chaos or darkness Ne Zha expected.
It was… paradise.
The sky stretched above them, impossibly vast for what should’ve been underground. Gentle sunlight kissed their skin. A sprawling town lay ahead, full of elegant Chinese architecture, gilded rooftops gleaming under artificial daylight. A mountain loomed in the distance, carved with the image of a colossal Buddha, eyes closed, serene, face as tall as the heavens.
“Is this real ?” Ne Zha whispered.
“I don’t know...” Ao Bing said.
People moved through the town like any normal village, laughing children, merchants at stalls, elders walking hand-in-hand. The smell of steamed buns and incense drifted on the air. And yet… it was wrong.
Ne Zha couldn’t feel anything. No energy. No essence. No aura.
He turned toward a passing woman. She looked straight through him.
“As far as I look at it, I believe all of it isn’t from our world...” Ao Bing murmured.
Two women stood ahead, waiting.
One was tall, her presence sharp as a blade. Long raven hair flowed behind her like silk, red eyes narrowed beneath an ornate helmet. Her armor gleamed crimson-black, intricate and cold.
Beside her stood a smaller woman, mischievous eyes flashing with amusement, short green hair styled into fox-like tufts, red lips curled in a knowing smile. She wore flowing robes that shimmered like smoke, and her movements were like dance steps.
“Welcome, Ne Zha. Ao Bing,” the fox-haired one said, voice velvet-smooth.
“You’ve been expected.” added the tall one, expression unreadable.
They offered no names.
Ne Zha’s back straightened instinctively. He and Ao Bing exchanged glances but followed when the women turned and began leading them through the town.
“This place is different...” Ne Zha whispered under his breath. “I can’t sense anything. It’s like we’re walking through illusions…”
Ao Bing’s jaw tightened. “And the people. They’re… going through motions. Like dolls.”
It was horrifying.
The palace doors loomed ahead, magnificent, ancient, decorated in motifs of phoenixes and lotuses. It stretched into the mountain itself.
“You’ll meet the goddess tomorrow,” said the fox-haired woman, turning to them with a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “For now, rest. Your room is ready.”
“Together?” Ne Zha asked, blinking.
The tall one’s mouth quirked just slightly. “Is that a problem?”
“No” Ao Bing said before Ne Zha could answer.
The room was elegant, polished wood, silken bedding, and incense that burned without flame.
Ne Zha sat on the bed, eyes still wide. “This is getting worse by the minute.”
Ao Bing leaned against the door, arms folded. “Something’s pulling strings behind all of this. We can’t let our guard down.”
Ne Zha looked at him, really looked.
“Promise me something,” he said quietly. “If things go wrong, we do this together. I don’t want you to face everything alone. Got it?”
Ao Bing met his gaze. “Only if you promise the same.”
Ne Zha nodded.
That night, Ne Zha laid in bed, staring at the ceiling as the candlelight flickered.
There was something terrible beneath this paradise.
And they had just walked straight into its heart.
***
The night air was unnaturally still. Even with the soft shimmer of the artificial stars above, something in this place felt too perfect, unsettling in its precision.
Neither Ne Zha nor Ao Bing could sleep, as they should.
They sat in silence for a while, the flickering candles in their room casting long shadows. Resting felt foolish in a place like this calm on the surface, but undeniably hollow underneath. Instead, they exchanged a glance that spoke the same thought : let’s stay awake, just in case…
“Bath ?” Ao Bing offered simply, his voice low.
Ne Zha hesitated, but nodded. “Sure.”
Outside the house the strange women had given them, there was a modest bathhouse built into the edge of a rock wall, hidden by thick bamboo. Steam curled into the night air, carrying a faint scent of jasmine.
Ao Bing went first, loosening the sash around his waist with habitual grace. He slid the upper part of his robes from his shoulders, revealing the smooth curve of his back, the toned lines of his arms. The moonlight spilled over his pale skin, illuminating the subtle shimmer of his draconic nature.
Ne Zha froze.
He’d seen Ao Bing like this before, more than once. They had fought together, bled together, rested in each other’s presence countless times. And yet… each time Ne Zha saw him like this, bare and bathed in moonlight, something stirred inside him.
Why does he have to be so beautiful ? he thought bitterly, turning away, his chest tightening with shame. His throat felt dry, and the guilt pooled deep in his stomach.
They were friends. Closest companions. Warriors who trusted each other with their lives.
So why did his heart race like this? Why did he admire the curve of Ao Bing’s spine, the gentle waves of his hair, the smoothness of his skin with such fondness… such longing?
Unable to bear it, Ne Zha left.
He stepped onto the roof of their house, letting the artificial wind brush over his skin. The moon hung above him like a flawless pearl, too perfect to be real. The stars were like painted eyes, all watching silently.
Even knowing it was fake, it still held beauty.
But it also reminded him: whoever created this place had power beyond comprehension. Not just magical strength, but patience, artistry, control. It wasn’t just a trap. It was a performance.
A world dressed in illusion, waiting to ensnare its audience.
He didn’t hear the footsteps behind him until it was too late.
“Running away from me ?” Ao Bing asked gently.
Ne Zha startled, his hand instinctively going for his spear, but he stopped when he saw Ao Bing standing beside him, his hair still damp, loosely tied back. His robe hung open at the collar, exposing his collarbones and the faint glow of his chest markings.
“You startled me !” Ne Zha muttered, forcing his gaze to the sky.
“You let your guard down,” Ao Bing said quietly, stepping beside him. “That’s not like you.”
Ne Zha gave a half-hearted shrug. “I was just thinking.”
“About? ”
Ne Zha tensed. “Nothing important.”
Ao Bing didn’t press. Instead, he leaned back, resting his weight on his palms, staring at the sky.
They sat in silence again, but this time it was heavier.
After a moment, Ne Zha sighed. “We shouldn’t have come in alone.”
“We didn’t have a choice…” Ao Bing replied, with a faint of red in his eyes for a short second.
“We did.” Ne Zha’s voice was firm. “We could’ve waited. But I felt… pulled. Drawn here. I don’t know why. And now I’m convinced it’s something I won’t be able to fight easily.”
Ao Bing looked at him, but this time, the red wasn’t there no more, and his expression softening.
“We’re not alone anymore.” he said. “We have each other.”
Ne Zha’s throat tightened.
He wasn’t used to people saying things like that. Not meaning them.
“I won’t let anything happen to you.“ Ne Zha said, avoiding Ao Bing’s eyes. Suddenly, Ne Zha’s pulse thundered in his ears as he summoned every ounce of courage buried in his heart. “I think I am in love—“
“No!” Ao Bing cut him off sharply, eyes wide. “Don’t say it yet...not right now…” Ao Bing’s heart wanted to hear these words, but his body instinctively stopped Ne Zha’s confession, and he was as confused as the boy in front of him.
“But…I’m serious—”
“So am I.”
Yes, Ao Bing’s feelings were too strong to resist. He turned toward him completely, eyes burning with everything he could no longer hold back.
Ne Zha blinked. His heart lurched. He hadn’t expected that. Not the words. Not the look. Not the way Ao Bing’s hand gently slid over his. Not after the rejection he had gotten before.
Their fingers laced slowly, carefully. As if asking permission.
Then Ao Bing leaned in, and Ne Zha didn’t move. He couldn’t.
His mind screamed —He’s too close..too irresistible…what are you doing ??— but his body refused to pull away. All he could feel was Ao Bing’s breath, warm and soft, the gentle press of fingers against his own, the heartbeat that echoed his.
When their lips finally met, it was like a spark that had been waiting to ignite.
Soft. Hesitant. Tender.
Their first kiss was short, barely more than a brush of lips, but it left Ne Zha breathless, as though he’d been thrown into the sky without his wheels.
He pulled back, face flushed, heart pounding.
Ao Bing looked just as flustered, his lips faintly swollen, eyes wide.
For a moment, neither said a word.
Then Ne Zha laughed,a nervous, quiet laugh—and muttered, “Well… that happened.”
Ao Bing smiled, and it lit up his whole face. “It did.”
Ne Zha stared at him, the moonlight catching in his white hair, and something inside him clicked into place. Like a feeling he’d been too scared to name.
He was in love with Ao Bing.
Completely. Deeply. Irrevocably.
And he couldn’t hide it anymore.
Before he could think, he leaned in again, kissing Ao Bing a second time, this one longer, deeper. And when Ao Bing responded with equal passion, the tension between them shattered.
Their arms wrapped around each other. Ne Zha pressed close, his fingers tangling in Ao Bing’s damp hair. The kiss grew heated, their breath mingling, their hearts beating wildly against each other’s chests.
It was like they were starving.
Not just for touch.
For mutual admiration. For connection. For all the moments they had kept hidden in fear of ruining what they had.
Ne Zha broke the kiss, panting slightly, eyes half-lidded.
“We’re not sleeping tonight,” he whispered.
Ao Bing raised a brow, cheeks pink. “Is that a suggestion or a promise ?”
Ne Zha scooped him up with a grin, bridal-style. “Both.”
Ao Bing yelped in surprise, hands gripping Ne Zha’s shoulders as the other carried him easily down from the roof and into their room.
Ne Zha set him gently on the bed, kneeling beside him, his face softening.
“I don’t know what’ll happen tomorrow.” he said. “So tonight… let me have you.”
Ao Bing’s eyes shone.
“You’ve always had me,” he replied.
They didn’t speak again for a while.
There were only hands exploring, lips tracing skin, breathless whispers and shared warmth beneath the flickering candlelight. The night stretched on. In this moment, what they had was real.
And they claimed it together.