What Is Love What Is

What is love? What is rain?
Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/40621917.
Rating: Mature
Archive Warning: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Category: M/M
Fandom: 天官赐福 - 墨香铜臭 | Tiān Guān Cì Fú - Mòxiāng Tóngxiù
Relationships: Huā Chéng/Xiè Lián (Tiān Guān Cì Fú), Fēng Xìn/Mù Qíng (Tiān Guān
Cì Fú)
Characters: Ruòyé (Tiān Guān Cì Fú), È-Mìng (Tiān Guān Cì Fú), Péi Míng (Tiān
Guān Cì Fú), Shī Qīngxuán, Hè Xuán (Tiān Guān Cì Fú)
Additional Tags: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Alpha Huā Chéng (Tiān
Guān Cì Fú), Omega Xiè Lián (Tiān Guān Cì Fú), Implied Mpreg, Post
Mpreg, Huā Chéng and Xiè Lián Invented Love, Hurt/Comfort, Family
Reunions, Family Feels, Hua Cheng really doesn't know he has a son,
And Xie Lian didn't really stay long enough for Hua Cheng to think
about it, Don't blame Xie Lian, he was truly ashamed, Xiè Lián's Bad
Luck (Tiān Guān Cì Fú), (this also has a big influence), How long will
Hua Cheng and Xie Lian's son last as a God (I'm taking bets), Canon-
Typical Violence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, and fluff (sometimes),
Domestic Fluff, (of course there will be domestic fluff, we are talking
about Hualian as parents), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slow
Burn, Light Angst, no plot angst just characters who canonically have
issues, Hua Cheng is a good father, (he's really trying), Alternate
Universe - Canon Divergence, (basically: canon, but with a Hualian son
in between), Scenting, Scent Marking, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Nesting,
At this point in the fic you can lose your fear of slow burn
Language: English
Series: Part 1 of The rain on us
Stats: Published: 2022-07-28 Updated: 2023-09-06 Words: 96,070 Chapters:
30/?
What is love? What is rain?
by xiaobeihua
Summary
The first tremor is constant, persistent, the tremor of the earth shaking in the wake of a
catastrophe. However, it is not the shaking of an earth, but a tremor sweeping the heavens
and alerting all celestial officials.
Someone is ascending.
Or, instead of the third ascension of Your Highness, the Omega Crown Prince Xie Lian, Xie
Meihua ascends in his place. The young Alpha newly ascended has a debt of merit that
spreads chaotically, forcing him to hunt down a ghost groom.
And, unexpectedly, encountering a father he has never seen in sixteen years, and who has
been searching for Xie Lian for eight centuries (except for that one blurry time he found him
almost seventeen years ago).
Notes
Why did I write this? Because baby, I love the drama
See the end of the work for more notes

The first ascension of a non-prince
Chapter Summary
Xie Meihua ascends.
Chapter Notes
Ok, look, I've written four chapters of this currently, and I needed to post it or I was
going to die!
No joke, I really was going to die if I didn't post this, so, hi, nice to see you! Welcome to
a slow burn that started on twitter where by chance two fools had sex seventeen years
ago and now it's going to unfold with a teenager in the middle!
See the end of the chapter for more notes
The first tremor is constant, persistent, the tremor of the earth shaking in the wake of a
catastrophe. However, it is not the shaking of an earth, but a tremor sweeping the heavens
and alerting all Celestial Officials.
Someone is ascending.
The second tremor is fierce, devastatingly powerful. Every Celestial Official who has a
chance to get out of their palace flees, evading the collapsing gold pieces above their heads.
Further north, a palace begins its own collapse in a wave of dust and destruction.
The third tremor carries away the golden bell, which has not stopped ringing since the
tremors began. Its tolling resounds one last time before it falls away, almost crushing a
Martial God in the process.
"Who could it be?" ask the voices of the curious Officials, drawing closer.
"He must be famous!"
"Very strong, very talented!"
"We must find out who he is."
"Of course, of course. Someone like that..."
With the fall of the bell, the last tremor brings a flash of lightning. The golden light fades a
moment later and, in its place, a boy dressed humbly in red embroidered pieces looks around
in bewilderment.
"Ah, ah... Hello?"
"YOUR HIGHNESS!?"
"IS THAT YOUR HIGHNESS!?"
"No, it's not possible, it's not him..."
"But..."
The boy gestures, smiling nervously, not having the slightest idea what to make of the
judgmental, terrified, and astonished gazes upon him.
Eight hundred years ago, the Omega Crown Prince of Xianle had ascended to be banished,
ascended again, and banished again after a battle that lasted as long as a time of incense.
Being an omega, no one expected him to ascend for the first time, let alone the second time.
And if being banished once was already a problem, being banished twice?
For too long the Heavens had lost track of him and more than jokes and teasing about his
whereabouts there was nothing left, and more than knowing that he had been transformed
into a rubbish collector, the laughter had stopped there. No one had come to his company, to
his aid, or to his service.
The nervous boy in front of them looks like a shadow of what the Crown Prince had once
been, but once the differences begin it is impossible not to notice them. His face is carved
with the delicate beauty of Xianle, with deep, kind eyes, a small elegant nose and thin lips
that curve into a nervous smile. Yet the pallor of his skin is almost deathly, with long black
hair held in a ponytail high on top of his head, a red ribbon braiding around some of his dark
strands.
Yet, distant to the Crown Prince's eyes, the boy's eyes are dark as an abyss, surrounded by
thick black lashes.
Ling Wen is the first to walk towards him, bowing slightly in respect. No one but a great and
mighty God would bring such destruction with his ascension. After a brief introduction to the
perplexed teenager who doesn't seem to understand what exactly it means that he has just
ascended, he gestures, bowing slightly to Ling Wen.
His scent is soft, but even from a distance, all Celestial Officials understand that he is an
Alpha. One more point of differentiation in the Crown Prince and him.
"Ah, it is a pleasure to meet you," he says slowly. "And I thank you very much for the
welcome. But... I... I really don't think I should be here."
"You have ascended after confronting a celestial calamity," Ling Wen explains,
unaccustomed to gods disbelieving their own divinity. "If it wasn't something you were
expecting, I can explain..."
"No, no, you don't understand" the teenager denies. He looks overly nervous, and the
murmurs of the Celestial Officials around him rise in confusion. Was he rejecting ascension?
Who, in the three realms, would reject an ascension?
Only one person throughout the history of the Heavens had ever done so.
"Let me know your name," Ling Wen says, trying to keep the teenager calm. He is barely a
teenager who is no more than sixteen years old, utterly terrified covered in judgmental and
curious gazes. Even Martial Gods and powerful Civilians have been approaching, interested
in understanding what is going on. "With your name, we can access to see the amount of
merit you have collected from your altars, and..."
"I have no altars," the boy says quickly, shaking his head. His mannerisms are a vivid shadow
of Xie Lian's nervous. "I have no merits. This is a mistake."
"I insist," Ling Wen says softly. "Allow me your name and..."
The boy sighs. He takes a step towards Ling Wen, hesitant, before opening his mouth.
"Xie" the surname, even if whispered, shakes the Heavens. Murmurs rise even before he
finishes speaking. "Meihua. Xie Meihua. It's a pleasure to meet you, but, I insist, I shouldn't
be here..."
Murmurs erupt, much louder and much more obvious.
"Xie? Like that dammit Xie Lian?"
"Is it something to do with the Crown Prince?"
"Unbelievable, he's a bastard of the Crown Prince!"
"The fucked Crown Prince broke his vows, then! And so unlucky that he left behind a
bastard!"
Contrary to previous rumours, these murmurs seem to break something inside the boy. Xie
Meihua raises his chin in a dignified manner, standing tall in his stature (much taller than
even Ling Wen remembers Xie Lian was). He pins his gaze on all the staring eyes, sliding it
slowly across each murmuring God until the fury in his eyes silences them.
"Yes," he says at last. "I am the firstborn of Xie Lian, the Crown Prince of Xianle. I do not
belong in this insipid Heaven laden with phonies who have turned their backs on him, judged
his deeds and punished his actions when that of many Martial Gods here have acted even
worse. Hypocrites.”
The silence that spreads is such that the rustling of the cloths can be heard as Xie Meihua
bows to Ling Wen, who, perplexed, does not cease to stare at him in astonishment.
"I apologise for my harsh words" he says slowly. "Is there somewhere we can discuss this in
private?"
"Of course" Ling Wen takes a moment to respond. "Follow me... Your Highness?"
"Oh, no, no," the teenager pouts, quickly shaking his head. His cheeks glow red with
embarrassment. "You don't need to use that title. Your Highness is still my father, after all."
And, with puzzled eyes and stunned looks, Xie Meihua follows Ling Wen across the sky with
his heart in his fist, knowing that he doesn't really belong there.
Her father was the one who faced the heavenly calamity, after all.
Chapter End Notes
Yeah, look, I'll try to update twice a week, then, I just have to keep writing and I think it
won't be that long (in fact, the last time I said that, the fanfic reached 60 chapters which
I'm still chasing myself and crying over)
Please let me know if you liked it! And I know that Xie Meihua's name really isn't the
most original thing in the world, but it didn't have to be exactly original, it had to be the
right one
Thank you very much for reading! You're making my insomnia worthwhile, see ya
Eight million eight hundred and eighty-eight thousand eighty-
eight
Chapter Summary
Xie Meihua owes a small debt for destroying some golden palaces after his ascension to
Heaven
Chapter Notes
I feel like I'm freaking out, MY GODD, THANK YOU SO MUCH EVERYONE FOR
READING AND FOR THE KUDOS, I CANNOT EXPLANATE HOW MUCH I'M SO
GRATEFUL
This thing came out of a sleepless early morning and an idea that I thought was a bit
silly, so you guys are making my duck heart feel warm and validated
I hope you like the chapter! Btw, I'm already writing 7 chapters *wink wink*
Ling Wen's palace welcomes Xie Meihua. Sober, elegant and littered with scrolls, it is the
largest and most luxurious place Xie Meihua has ever been in his short life.
Ling Wen offers his tea and a comfortable welcome. The tea tastes delicious, something Xie
Meihua is grateful for; for the past few weeks he has been drinking the tea his father makes
after his daily scrap picking, which might be a little more consumable than muddy water, but
he didn't want to hurt his father's emotions by telling him. After all, his father spent hours
working to get the necessary herbs, and it took all the dedication in the world to make a hot
tea that he could enjoy as soon as he got home.
Xie Meihua has eaten the food his father prepared all his life without so much as a bout of
stomach poisoning (something that women in some villages suggested was due to having
developed some kind of immunity from birth), until he learned to cook on his own, more out
of a survival instinct than a true love of cooking. He has learned to tolerate and even enjoy it.
At that moment he would give anything for a cup of tea with his father telling him about all
this madness.
With a long sigh, finally settling down in front of Ling Wen, he tells her everything.
He tries to sum it up as best he can, only telling her the important details: he had been
moving with his father up north, which was a common thing for them. It was their way of
life; they moved so often that sometimes Xie Meihua couldn't quite remember the names of
the villagers before they left.
They collected scrap, saw what worked, what didn't, and what didn't they discarded and
dismantled it to use its parts for something else. In this way he and his father had made their
own clay dishes and their own decorations in every modest home they managed to form.
What was useful, they restored, repaired, and managed to make some money by selling it. In
this way, Xie Meihua had managed to learn strange skills, from carpentry to sculpture, just by
restoring things since he was a very small boy.
However, at the entrances to the village, they had encountered a celestial calamity shaking
the heavens above them. It had been a simple fight in which one thief had left his sword
against Xie Meihua's neck, and another fellow thief had left his own against the neck of a
village girl, making him decide.
It had not been complex for a calamity.
Xie Lian had not decided immediately, doubt filling his eyes with panic. Xie Meihua quickly
knocked out his attacker and only a heartbeat later Xie Lian did the same, knocking out the
girl's attacker.
An instant later, just as his father embraced him, he felt the powerful, chaotic tug against his
bones, divinity caressing his skin before tearing him from his father's embrace.
"From what you are telling me, Your Highness," at this point in the conversation Xie Meihua
had grown tired of correcting her. No one had ever called him that before, even though he
knew that, technically, that title was something he could hold. He still had royal blood
running through his veins. Still, what was the point of being Crown Prince of a kingdom that
no longer existed? "This was not a heavenly calamity for your father, but for you. A calamity
that tested your courage, and has caused you to decide what was worth more: your life, the
life of a child, or the heart and guilt of your father."
"Your Honour, with all due respect..." Xie Meihua gestures, almost retreating behind his
teacup. "I don't think punching a thief and knocking him out was something that proves I
deserve godhood. It was an instinctive reaction. I couldn't do anything else, even if it risked
my life less."
And, as a more than dismal reminder of what happened, he strokes his neck. He is sure that
just before he ascended the sword truly opened the skin of his throat with a harsh, stabbing
pain, but there is not even a scar at that moment. Divinity has its benefits, he is sure of that.
However, he is also sure that it left blood on his father's robes. The thought makes his head
spin a little.
"No, but he has not allowed his father to make that decision," insists Ling Wen. "The
Heavens are not wrong, Your Highness. Divinity is with you, unless you renounce it... But, in
case you really want to renounce divinity, you must pay your debt first."
Xie Meihua sets the cup down on the small table awkwardly. It clatters against the porcelain
plate. In all his years of life, the only porcelain cups Xie Meihua has had access to have been
broken, worn or chipped. It is strange to hold something new and fully complete in his hands
and, for the sake of the porcelain, he lets it out of his reach before asking:
"Debt?"
Ling Wen nods.
"Upon ascension," she explains much more calmly, and much more confidently than
moments before. Xie Meihua understands that this is one of her duties, so her comfort zone is
noticeably larger than simply questioning him "Your Highness has caused an earthquake that
has destroyed two palaces of two important Martial Gods, and a golden bell that fell on
another Martial God" she is silent long enough for Xie Meihua to try to understand if he
should ask about the state of health of the affected Martial God, but in reality he knows better
than to worry about that. He is a God. Surely he's fine, and if he's not, it's not his
responsibility that he couldn't defend himself. "It was split in two by this same God, and is
currently under repair" Ling Wen continues. "The total price of its debt is eight million eight
hundred and eighty-eight thousand eighty-eight merits. At present, it does not even possess
ten merits. Oh," Ling Wen pauses, as if she has received new information immediately, "Your
Highness owns two hundred. Your Highness has won the contest for ‘The God they least
expected him to ascend’, and a peculiar wager from a Middle Heaven general as to whether
the son of another Martial God will ascend before some heir of General Ming Guang."
Xie Meihua stares into his teacup, completely perplexed. He tries to put all the information in
his head in order, slowly, taking deep breaths of air. Everything in his day is going too fast.
The walk was only half an hour ago, and half an hour ago he had to choose between his life
and that of a girl, even choosing to risk it rather than put the blame on the heart of his father,
the only family he'd ever had.
He puts his hand over his heart, cradling the almost aching beat. He needs to go home soon.
He can't leave his father alone. He's been alone too long already.
"Those are... a lot of merits. I, ah, how do I get them?" he is sure that winning contests and
bets is not the best method of getting merits; even if he is exceptionally lucky, he is sure that
merits are not won by playing dice. He is also sure that continuing to play dice games is
affecting his cultivation, but when he always wins, he can't help it: it is an exceptionally easy
way to get money. "Actually, A-die never assumed that I would be ascended, so even if he
explained above about his ascensions, I really have no idea about... anything."
Ling Wen sighs. It's going to be a long, long afternoon.
Chapter End Notes

Let me give our little Meihua a pat pat on the head for his debt, poor golden palace-
destroying child!
Thank you very much for reading! If you liked the chapter don't forget to comment!
(although I'm still guessing how to reply to comments lmao fucking imposter syndrome)
I really appreciate it with all my heart and what's left of my soul!
A drama of two generals
Chapter Summary
Xie Meihua gets unexpected help, and is at the centre of a verbal fight between two
particularly irritating Martial Gods.
Chapter Notes
I'm not going to lie to you: the hype shook my soul and before I knew it I had 17
chapters written. I'm not kidding, I literally just finished writing the fucking ghost
groom arc, I'm freaking out
So, daily updating is a goal? Probably
THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR COMMENTING, AGAIN, I LOVE YOU SO MUCH,

THANK YOU FOR SO MUCH LOVE
One explanation, one mission from the Heavenly Emperor's hand, and the setting of a
personal password later, Xie Meihua finds himself plagued with sounds and chaos. He had
never had so much spiritual energy before, even if he had started his cultivation shortly after
the age of thirteen seeking to follow the same cultivation path as his father, it had not
provided him with too much power. He only had enough to protect himself, and more
importantly, to protect his father.
He was his whole world. From the moment he had conceived self-awareness, he had
understood that his father was everything. He may have had lousy luck, and his cooking left
much to be desired, but he truly adored him. His father was the only one who had always
helped him, cared for him and protected him. He had taught him patiently even if his hands
never proved adept at calligraphy no matter how hard he tried, and if his distractions went to
art rather than practicality.
They had never been apart for a day in their entire lives. Even when Xie Meihua had his first
rut, his father had been there, quickly providing him with herbs that made him barely feel his
rut as a somewhat uncomfortable and embarrassing nuisance. And, during his father's heat
flashes, sporadic and strong almost as if they were created to cause trouble at the worst times
and in the worst places (like a shadow of his bad luck) Xie Meihua was there perfuming his
nest to make him feel comfortable and at home, giving him herbal teas that got his father only
a horrible fever and no other symptoms that his father considered unpleasant.
He had even tried to find him an Alpha among travellers, cultivators or even some clan
chieftain who was not an unpleasant person. His father had refused in so many ways that he
finally agreed to stop looking for company for him. If his father wanted a mate, he would
look for one on his own.
However, he seemed comfortable with only his son for company.
He had to return to him soon.
"The mission in the north..." Ling Wen explains through the spiritual communication array.
Xie Meihua tries to bring attention of the matter, or even bring some calm and understanding
of everything she is saying, but to be honest all he thinks is that he prays that any God will
offer himself. He prays that he doesn't have to do it alone. Because, if he had to do it alone,
he knows he wouldn't be able to do it quickly. And he knows that, if he does it quickly, he
will be able to get back to his father sooner.
"The Emperor won't be up north" someone says, and Xie Meihua doesn't understand why he
should excuse himself behind the Emperor. He hasn't seen him once and it gives him a
horrible feeling, almost as if his sixth sense is tugging at his nerves. While his father has bad
luck, Xie Meihua was born with exceptionally good luck, able to find gold coins on the road,
or to find the best places to hide from the rain. Compared to his father, it was something
absolutely miraculous, which had probably kept them alive for so long. "Are you asking for
help for Xie Meihua?"
The rumours come back. There are so many voices, so many words mingling with each other,
that Xie Meihua tries to understand them and at the same time to forget them. He hears bets,
and his irritation grows the moment he is compared to his father. Not because of being
compared to his father (to be anything like his father would be the best compliment in the
world) but because of the contempt with which he is mentioned.
"That's right. The help is for me" interrupts Xie Meihua. He can almost feel Ling Wen palm
her own forehead, fully intending to shut him up, but it's too late. He's not going to stand by
quietly while his father is insulted by pathetics Gods. "As you may know, I ascended, and
caused a destruction for which I need to collect eight hundred and eighty-eight hundred and
eighty-eight thousand and eighty-eight merits to pay for. I have no temples, no devotees, due
to the fact that I did not plan to ascend" his voice sounds more malicious than he would like
already "and I have no other method of raising sufficient merit. Therefore, I would very much
appreciate help in raising enough to repay my debt as soon as possible so that I can rejoin my
father. The sooner this happens, the sooner I can go with Your Highness the Crown Prince
and leave you to carry on with their absurd and silly rumours."
Silence stretches out for a sigh. Then someone speaks.
"How is His Highness the Crown Prince?" he asks. It is a firm, but soft voice. There is a
strange familiarity in the way he pronounces the title, and Xie Meihua feels that, perhaps, if
this God knew his father and for so long wondered about his state of health, he should have
come to check on him in person.
But he is not going to argue with a God, if he can turn it to his ally.
"We were heading north looking for a place to stay" he replies slowly. "We had a small house
to the northeast, but there was a problem with some landslides. Most of the village was
unharmed, but our house was one of the few affected.”
Their house, their vegetable garden, their well and their chickens, among other things they
had worked hard to have. Xie Meihua had shed tears of frustration, even if his father seemed
used to misfortune. It wasn't fair. They had only been living there for a year.
"I'm sorry to hear that" replies the same voice of the God. Xie Meihua crosses his fingers,
until a heartbeat later, he hears it: "I will offer officers under my command to facilitate Xie
Meihua's work in the north."
"Thank you, ah..." Xie Meihua pauses, not having the slightest idea what to say. He doesn't
really know about gods, divinities or temples. His father has never taken him to pray to any.
"How should I call you?"
"General Xuan Zhen" he replies. Xie Meihua nods, utterly grateful.
However, the calm is interrupted by chaotic intentions just before another voice
communicates through the spiritual communication array. The voice is low, heavy and
charged with fury.
"Who brought down my golden palace? Don't hide, you coward!"
Xie Meihua holds his breath for a moment of silence, trying to confront the possibilities. If he
confessed, perhaps it would lead to a duel. Does he even have enough spiritual power to be
able to confront a much more powerful God, with many more temples and merits, in his own
heaven? Would he accept his repentance and take into account that he will pay for all the
merits even with interest?
He hesitates for a moment, but before he can even utter a word, a sound breaks the tense
silence.
A laugh.
The laughter of General Xuan Zhen.
"You're the one who tore it down!?" the God asks harshly, and the fury in his tone almost
makes Xie Meihua turn away from the conversation. He has never tolerated shouting. He has
always found it unnecessary and foolish.
General Xuan Zhen responds a moment later, with obvious amusement.
"I didn't say I did it. Don't randomly blame those who are not to blame."
"Then why are you laughing, are you done going crazy?"
General Xuan Zhen does not delay in answering, as if the confrontation provoked nothing but
amusement in a very curious way.
"No, of course. The person who destroyed your golden palace is in the spiritual
communication array, you can ask him yourself and he'll take care of it" the general finishes
saying, easily exposing Xie Meihua, who has to take a breath of air trying to completely
control the chaos seeping into his mind. He almost trembles.
Almost.
"I did it" he replies slowly, trying to make his tone much more friendly than hostile, which
isn't difficult. His natural tone has been shaped by his father's kindness, even if more than
once he had to harden it to confront unpleasant experiences. "I'm very sorry. I didn't mean to
do that."
"And who are you?" the God retorts. Xie Meihua twists the edges of his robe, and the uneven
embroidery patterns manage to bestow relaxation through his bones. It is a reminder of why,
for whom, he is doing this. He must return to his father.
"Xie Meihua" he explains softly. "I ascended a... uh, really short time ago. I don't know how
long it's been?" he wonders briefly if day and night are the same in the Heavens as they are
on earth. It was mid-morning when the celestial calamity arose, would it be afternoon by
now? Would his father have found somewhere to stay? Since he no longer had to pay for two
rooms, he could afford a comfortable room and a good dinner. "Ascending, I caused some,
uh, destruction" he tries not to make his voice sound as nervous as he is. He really tries, but
he can't. He's nervous that this will lead to a dispute that will get him delayed longer, or add
more merit to his debt. "I apologise. I will pay all the merits I owe."
The silence that follows is a little thicker, but less tense.
In a whisper, Ling Wen's voice informs him, as if that should mean something to him: "It's
General Nan Yang.”
The name is lost in an abyss of new names he has received over the past few moments. So
many Martial Gods and Civilians who could be of use to him in the north suddenly blending
together. It's not like Xie Meihua could remember him as anything useful.
"Xie Meihua?" asks General Nan Yang. Before he answers, Xuan Zhen does:
"He is the first-born son of His Highness."
Xie Meihua can almost feel the moment when General Nan Yang drops out of the
conversation. Suddenly, the spiritual communication array feels much freer, without so much
fury and chaos. Xie Meihua doesn't know whether to laugh or cry: of course, apparently, he
should destroy the golden palace of an... Old acquaintance, or something? Of his father's. To
be honest, he only knows two names of old acquaintances of his father, and he's not sure if
they are exactly those generals.
It has to be a stroke of really, really bad luck.
Which, of course, makes sense.

That had to be his father's bad luck, following him around like a cloak. Yet, for some reason,
even if it should hurt him that his disastrous luck is upon him, he feels almost... grateful. It's a
feeling, warm if chaotic, but it feels like his father is there, holding his hand, encouraging
him.
He can almost feel his father telling him that everything will be alright.
Xie Meihua wants to believe that it will be and that sooner rather than later they can be
reunited, even if he has to beg for merits on his knees.
(Or betting for those).
Chapter End Notes
THANK YOU VERY MUCH FOR READING, AGAIN
I discovered I don't know how to add links, but you can look me up on twitter
(@xiao_beihua) if you want, although I only retweet a lot of fanart sometimes I also
drop hype and stuff like that
See you in the next chapter my sweetheart!
P.S.: Our Meihua set up his private communication array password, so bets on what it
will be? I think it's pretty obvious lololololololol
In the mortal realm, just to the north
Chapter Summary
In the mortal realm, Xie Meihua gets help, catches up with his mission, and mets a silver
butterfly.
Chapter Notes
There is no day that I have new words to thank you for the great reception this fic is
receiving and how warm my heart feels with your words, kudos and reads. THANKS I
LOVE YOU
Descending feels like a free fall and, as his feet touch the ground, his head spins several times
before stabilising and balancing. His heart clenches as, for an instant, he is surrounded by
forests, birdsong and the feeling that he could ignore his duty, the merits he debt pay, and just
go in search of his father.
They were heading north before he ascended. And north, so close to where Mount Yu Jun
should be, Xie Meihua has the feeling that he is not as far away from his father as he thinks.
They are on the same realm, at least. That brings him immediate relief.
He will finish everything he must as soon as he can, and then they will meet and drink tea
together. Maybe eat something under the stars. It's a plan.
Xie Meihua walks with calm steps, following the main road. It doesn't take him long to come
across an old tea house. In rather large characters, the name "Casual Encounter" reads almost
comical. Of course a tea house should have such a name. With slowness and a friendly
expression he approaches the man sitting just outside the teahouse to ask: "Excuse me, are we
near Mount Yu Jun?"
"Is in that way" the man indicates. Xie Meihua smiles, feeling his heart a little less racing, but
more alert.
The scroll Ling Wen gave him weighs between his robes. Xie Meihua settles himself at a
table inside, counting that he has just enough coins to order some tea and something to eat.
He's glad he didn't bring all the money: otherwise, who knows where his father would get
gold to buy something to eat. He really doesn't want to see him eating food off the floor
again.
Drumming interrupts his already lacklustre concentration. A wedding procession appears
right next to him, a red palanquin carrying a bride inside. Xie Meihua watches curiously,
suddenly noticing that neither face looks happy. Expressions wander between sadness,
sorrow, bitterness and despair.
It doesn't look like it's going to be a happy marriage.
Xie Meihua sighs, finally opening Ling Wen's scroll ready to soak in the details of the
mission as the teahouse owner approaches, serving him. Xie Meihua looks up to give him a
warm smile along with a thank you for his services when his eyes meet a small glow from the
window.
It is silvery, clean, and in the sunlight, it barely seems to have any shape. It hovers there,
cautiously in the distance, as if it were... watching him.
"Hello?" mutters Xie Meihua. He raises his hand, trying to catch the silver butterfly. Contrary
to his first thought, the insect doesn’t move away, but slowly approaches. Its flutters are
almost hesitant and Xie Meihua smiles broadly as it lands on his fingers.
He can barely feel it, soft as a breath. Its wings unfurl in shimmering patterns of shiny silver,
contrary to the translucent sheen. It radiates a strange power that Xie Meihua feels some kind
of... familiarity with.
"You are a very beautiful creature" he murmurs, almost to himself. "My A-die would like you
very much. He's fascinated by shiny things, though I don't think he'd want me to know that."
The butterfly flutters, almost jovially, as if it understands his words. Or Xie Meihua is already
going a little crazy. Divinity brings power and madness, or so he thinks he's heard once.
"He's on his way here, if you want to show him how pretty you are" he cooed to the butterfly,
who fluttered them wings again, almost gleefully. "We were travelling together from the
northeast, but I ascended. I didn't want to leave my A-die, but now I'm doing everything I can
to get back to him. I don't want him to be alone."
Talking to a butterfly felt absolutely silly. However, his father used to talk to Ruoye, and Xie
Meihua has a feeling that talking to objects unable to respond but with good understanding is
very good method of communicating with oneself.
The butterfly rises from his finger a moment later. It flutters away, leaving fragments of light
in its wake, and Xie Meihua smiles warmly as he watches it go, following its fluttering with
his eyes until it disappears.
When he looks back at the table, however, his smile fades. There are two people there with
him. An inhalation suddenly brings him back to reality: on his left is an alpha, on his right an
omega. Both are dressed refinedly; the one on the left, the alpha, is taller, with a defined,
handsome face and arrogant eyes. The one on the right, the omega, is slightly smaller, with
delicate, handsome features. However, neither of them has a good face.
Neither seems to want to be there voluntarily.

"Are you two...?" he asks, not really knowing what to say. They have sat at his table, after all.
Xie Meihua is sure he doesn't have enough money to pay for tea with snacks for the three of
them, if that were the case. Tea at most.
"Nan Feng" replies the alpha on the left.
"Fu Yao" replies the omega on the right.
"I understand" says Xie Meihua, not understanding at all. As if their names would give his
any kind of useful explanation.
Then, an intrusive voice pierces his mind. Xie Meihua shudders; it's strange to have other
voices wandering through his head, let alone knowing that his head now has some sort of...
password. However, his password was a quick inspiration from his rage of the moment.
Anyone who wanted to enter his private spiritual communication array simply had to say "I
am devoted to the Crown Prince, His Highness Xie Lian". In this way, too, he ensured that
only people with a very thick face (or with really strong motivations) were able to
communicate with him.
The voice in his mind is Ling Wen's: "Your Highness, there are two martial gods of Middle
Court willing to help you. The God that General Xuan Zhen promised to send, and an envoy
from General Nan Yang's palace. Both should have arrived by now."
"Oh" was all Xie Meihua could say. That was... strange, to say the least. With a bit of bravery,
he turns to both men, giving them a somewhat gentle smile. "Oh, well, thank you both so
much for being here to help me. This is really very important to me.”
They both nod in agreement. Sighing sadly at losing the few coins left in his purse, Xie
Meihua calls for two new cups of tea. Neither refuses.
"Which palace are they from, respectively?" he asks a moment later.
"From Nan Yang Palace" replies Nan Feng.
"From Xuan Zhen Palace" replies Fu Yao.
Xie Meihua doesn't really have much idea if there was some sort of latent enmity between the
two places, but from the expression on the faces that seem to be doing their best to ignore
each other, he thinks that minimally there must be a little rivalry.
"I don't have your generals’ private communication passwords," says Xie Meihua with an
uncomfortable smile, "so you'll have to extend thanks from me to them."
They both nod, and for a moment before the tea comes, the silence becomes awkward. Xie
Meihua scratches his neck, a learned habit of nervousness, and when the tea cups are in front
of them, he decides to start with the work.
"Was Ling Wen kind enough to brief you on the situation?" he asks, and when they both
deny, Xie Meihua actually opens the scroll and concentrates on giving them all the
information about the missing brides, the ghost groom, and the half-eaten corpses.
It's too much to process. Xie Meihua had just turned sixteen, and it's not like he hadn't heard
horror stories about exploits of gods, man-eating ghosts, and things that would make anyone's
stomach ache, but they were... stories. Horror stories that would keep him awake at night.
Above all else, they were something far away. Something he shouldn't have to worry about
living as a mortal next to his father, cultivating enough spiritual energy to stay young and
eternal by his side.
His father would never have to be alone again.
Now his stomach is a ball of nerves, and Xie Meihua doesn't know whether to laugh or cry
from nerves. It's the worst possible scenario. He isn’t ready. It doesn't feel right. He doesn't
want to do this.
But he must.
"Did the missing brides bear any resemblance to each other?" asks Nan Feng. Xie Meihua
denies, poring over the scroll.
"It says here that they didn’t" he replies quickly. "There were rich and poor, beautiful and
ugly, some wives and some concubines. The disappearances have no common pattern, so
neither can we know if the ghost groom has any predilection for selecting his brides."
"How can you tell he's a ghost groom if no one has seen him?" asks Fu Yao instead. Xie
Meihua feels blessed that both officers have bold intelligence. The chaotic questions swirling
in his mind are easier to take into account together with two more experienced people.
"It's just a popular name that people use" Xie Meihua explains again. "No one has seen it, but
they assume it because the ones who disappear are brides."
The sun withers on the horizon, and with no more money to treat them to anything other than
simple tea, Xie Meihua sighs, feeling exhausted. Has it really only been one day? Was he
really only in the morning talking about restoring the old worn pottery with his father to see
if they could sell it and get lodging?
How could he go from talking about junk to talking about a ghost groom?
"Ah, is it closed?"
Xie Meihua raises his head as soon as he hears the voice at the entrance of the teahouse. His
heart almost skips a beat from relief, and he's sure it might start purring.
"We're closing" says the teahouse owner, stepping aside from the door to shoot Xie Meihua
and his companions an airy look, clearly demanding that it's time to vacate his establishment.
Xie Meihua doesn't care: he abandons the scroll and cup on the table, slipping away from
Nan Feng and Fu Yao's gazes all too quickly, through the teahouse door and into his father's
tight embrace.
"A-die!"
Xie Lian greets him with a tight embrace so tight he can feel it hurts; it has been strange
hugging his father since his last growth spurt, especially since Xie Meihua is taller than him
by almost a head, and when he hugs him, he must lean in almost gracefully to hide against
the protective beat of his father's heart.
Xie Meihua is unable to notice that he is crying until his father wipes the tears from his eyes.
"My treasure, my love" his father says, and all Xie Meihua can notice in his voice is pride.
"You ascended a year younger than your silly old father."
"I didn't want to leave you" he mutters, denying again and again. Even if he is sixteen, Xie
Meihua feels like a lost little boy, hugging his father tightly. He thought it would be much
longer before he could see him again, and the relief of having him there feels unreal. "They
wouldn't let me come back to you. I wrecked the Heaven. I owe eight million eight hundred
and eighty-eight thousand eighty-eight merits."
His father hums something that sounds like a laugh.
"How many palaces did you destroy to owe that debt?"
"Two" his voice sounds too weak. He straightens in all his posture, now his father hugging
him tightly, burying his head where his heart beats, relaxing in his arms. "And a bell fell on a
Martial God?"
His father laughs again, a shaky laugh of relief.
"You make me so proud."
"For destroying two palaces and a bell?" Xie Meihua feels himself sobbing. His father shoots
him a rather amused look.
"For ascending. I will build you a wonderful temple, my treasure."
Before Xie Meihua can really process that his father is proud that he ascended to godhood, a
fake cough behind his back reminds him that he actually has company.
"Oh" he feels himself blush, awkward. What would those officials think of him? A new
Alpha God so pathetic he cries to be reunited with his father he's lost sight of for less than a
day, but...
But he doesn't care.
"A-die" he says softly. "I want to introduce you to Nan Feng and Fu Yao. They have been
sent by the palace generals of Nan Yang and Xuan Zhen respectively to help me with a
mission. If I complete it, I will be able to repay the merits I owe."
Xie Lian surveys both gods with a gentle smile; there is some kind of recognition in their
gaze, Xie Meihua notices. There is warmth and relief.
He releases himself from Xie Meihua's embrace so slowly that Xie Meihua can sense that his
father is reluctant to let go, but when he does, he advances a few steps to both Gods, bowing
respectfully. Both Gods look at him with puzzlement evident on their faces.
"Thank you so much for helping my son. He is all I have in this world" he says, reverent and
gentle. "Now, please fill me in on the details while we look for a place to stay before
nightfall. Because obviously you don't expect me to stand idly by while my little one is put at
risk, do you?"
It is at that moment that Xie Meihua can see that, from within his father's hair, a delicate
silver butterfly seems to fly, away from the teahouse. And, without expecting it, he smiles
broadly.
"Thank you for finding him" he thinks, wishing the butterfly could really hear him, and
although he doesn't say it out loud, his heart is completely grateful.
Chapter End Notes
Seriously wondering if I should get a beta reader and where to get one lmao
THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING, AGAIN, here we have Fu Yao and Nan
Feng trying (and failing, as we all know) to be calm people, and the long awaited
reunion with our Xie Lian who is the father of the year, we all love, and we want him to
adopt us (you don't?)
Its my pleasure to inform you that I have already written the first meeting between
HuaHua and his baby AND I AM FREAKING OUT, I am so far ahead with the chapters
that I am literally lost with what happens in each one, but I will be re-reading and
correcting everything for you to have the best reading experience possible!!!
See you in the next chapter!!!

A General's reputation
Chapter Summary
Nan Yang Temple welcomes the last of Xianle and welcomes them back to their
discussions and rivalries of the past.
Chapter Notes
Honestly, this chapter and the next one were going to be one, but I didn't know how to
divide the scenes in a functional way so that they would run continuously without an
awkward cut, SO IM SORRY but I promise that the next chapter will have so many
feelings that you'll drown in them (as much as I did)
THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING
"Where is the nearest Ming Guang Temple?" asks Xie Lian of the teahouse owner. Xie
Meihua tries to keep his breathing steady, keeping himself from crying, even though all he
wants to do is cry with relief: his father is there, and he doesn't have to do any of this alone.
He is barely sixteen. He understands that his father has been trained and educated from a very
early age to confront a celestial calamity at seventeen and ascend, but Xie Meihua was
spoiled. He grew up as an ordinary child whose only concern was to pick up trash, eat all his
vegetables, try to improve his stupidly horrible penmanship and train with the swords that,
too long, kept wobbling from his hands clumsily. Transcending divinity had never been his
goal, and all he wanted at that moment was to hide under his blanket and pray that everything
that was happening and was about to happen was a strange nightmare.
"There are no Ming Guang temples around here" the teahouse owner is replying as he packs
snacks. His father pays for them. "But there is a Nan Yang temple."
And that's where they head.
"That's funny" his father mentions, passing him a steamed bun. Xie Meihua bites into it,
feeling relieved to note that it is truly the first thing he had eaten all day, besides Ling Wen's
tea and the one he had just drunk. "We are in the north, but there is no Ming Guang temple."
"Why is that curious?" he asks, totally ignorant. His father turns to kindly offer the steamed
buns to Nan Feng and Fu Yao.
"The north is General Ming Guang's territory" Xie Lian explains calmly. Xie Meihua
observes him warmly as both Officers take a bun "General Nan Yang has the southeast,
however, he has many worshippers up north as well, doesn't he?"
"Quite a few" Nan Feng admits. His father's smile is suddenly a playful excuse. Xie Meihua
has barely seen him smile in that mocking way a handful of times in his life.
"I wonder why that is."
Xie Meihua doesn't miss it as officer Nan Feng looks away, abruptly embarrassed, while Fu
Yao lets out a low chuckle.
The laugh reminds Xie Meihua so abruptly of General Xuan Zhen's laugh. He ignores it as
best he can before his brain leads his ideas to inaccurate conclusions and he ends up even
more confused. It was already too serious for two Martial Gods to send their subordinates to
even think that they had come down in person to help him as if he was someone... important.
General Nan Yang's Temple is not that far away; despite this, they use the road to explain the
situation to Xie Lian thoroughly, detailing the history, folktales and myths that grew up
around the missing brides. Xie Meihua dwells on the details that took on importance with the
officials at the teahouse: no one has seen the Ghost Groom, and the seventeen brides had
nothing in common. His father absorbs the information calmly, familiarising himself with
every aspect with his bold mind. From the look on his face, Xie Meihua gets the sense that
his father has arrived at a far more advanced kind of understanding of the situation than he or
the Middle Heaven officials could have grasped on their own.
When they arrive, there are not only offerings and incense burning brightly in the Temple that
stands on land that does not belong to him, but a statue that Xie Meihua finds unpleasant,
with coarse features. He has seen quite a few statues of gods (he has even sculpted a couple
of statues himself for quite a few gold coins that didn't turn out badly), but few are as
unpleasant looking as this one.
For a statue of General Nan Yang, from the tone of voice in which he has communicated with
him in the spiritual communication array, Xie Meihua had expected a... different face.
Officer Fu Yao seems to agree with the shoddy quality of it all. A pile of criticisms begin to
spill from his judicious lips: that the paintings are vulgar, that the statue is of poor quality,
that the artists hired were among the cheapest, that the temple is disgusting... And each
criticism seemed to sink deeper into the zero patience that officer Nan Feng seemed to have.
Xie Meihua interrupts before a fight can break out.
"There are many women worshipping General Nan Yang" he remarks, which is true. He has
seen two coming out of the temple, one cleaning the entrance, and before they arrived, two of
them were on their knees offering their devotion with slightly flushed faces. The fresh
incense burns with a rather mild perfume. "Is this some kind of God who favours women?"
Nan Feng's expression is a bad poem. Fu Yao laughs again, now much more obviously than
before.
"Oh, it's not like that" Xie Lian quickly replies. His father has a kindly gesture as he informs
him, never mocking his misinformation as anyone else probably would have done. Xie Lian
is the one who, after all, hasn't filled him in on absolutely nothing that dealt with Gods. Not
because of some kind of enmity: Xie Meihua had not cared about the existence of any God
who had not offered his father help, support or companionship. "General Nan Yang is a
Martial God. It is a rare peculiarity that so many women choose to offer him devotion."
"Well, that has a funny story" says Fu Yao. Nan Feng's gaze on his official counterpart is
acid.
"I don't think Your Highness wants to..."
"I don't know the story" Xie Lian says quickly. Xie Meihua feels a strange sensation at his
father's fluid response to that title. He's been nothing more than his A-die, or simply gongzi.
Perhaps he should start calling him with a little more respect, too? "I'd like to hear it, if that
doesn't mean trouble."
Even despite the sparkling innocence in his voice, Xie Meihua knows his father well enough
to know he's lying.
And, as if enjoying it, Fu Yao tells the embarrassing story of how an emperor changed the
characters of General Nan Yang's title before he chose to change it to Nan Yang, causing the
rumour that he had a huge manhood to spread like a plague. Suddenly, General Nan Yang
was surrounded by requests far more heated than those of a mere Martial God. Specifically
from women.
"That's..." Xie Meihua covered his face, laughing. Embarrassing, he wanted to say. But
amusing. It was silly that something like that had happened. He couldn't imagine his own
reaction if something like that had happened to him. "And General Nan Yang wasn't able to
ask the emperor to change it or something?"
"Well, General Nan Yang didn't find out until a decade later. The rumours were too loud to be
silenced back then."
His father seems to absolutely relish the embarrassment of Nan Feng, who annoyingly rubs a
particularly noticeable vein on his forehead. His scent is a thick, aggressive irritation. He
looks like he's just about to burst.
"I admit I hadn't heard the rumours" Xie Lian enunciates a few laughs later. "In case that had
happened, of course I would have paid my respects to General Nan Yang. It's a tough
reputation to maintain.”
Xie Meihua laughs. His father had made a habit of making any kind of mockery towards
people who felt that, because he was an omega who was also a single father, he should keep
quiet. It was a way Xie Meihua had learned to defend himself verbally, too, but the laughter
is interrupted by the fierce redness on Officer Nan Feng's face.
"I don't understand what's so funny about all this" Nan Feng openly complains. "Perhaps
instead of gossiping like an old ugly woman you could sweep the floor in front of His
Highness, surely it would be more fun for someone from your palace?" and he pushes the
mockery towards Fu Yao, whose laughter abruptly dies.
Just by looking at him Xie Meihua can tell that he has struck a particularly chord. He is about
to say something to defuse the situation when his father puts his hand on his shoulder,
stopping him. Xie Lian looks at him gently, shaking his head slightly. It seems to tell him that
they have to fight, even more so when you consider the rude words they are dishing out to
each other. The past eats away at them like poison, and they seem to be on the verge of
jumping at each other's throats sooner or later, after all.
And they do.
Xie Meihua doesn't understand which of the two initiates the physical fight after the
arguments, but before he is really aware of it, they are hitting and rolling, even smashing the
offering table. Incense, ash, fruit and food spill like debris on the floor, and Xie Meihua grits
his teeth.
It's the last straw.
"All right, that's enough!" he tries to stop them. Both officers ignore him completely. Xie
Meihua shoots a pleading look at his father, who smiles, finally standing up.
Xie Lian approaches both officers, bowing slightly.
"Stop now."
His voice is a clear, direct order that brings back memories to Xie Meihua of his more
rebellious childhood when he sought to sneak out after sunset to catch fireflies. It is the firm,
fatherly tone of voice that gets both officers to obey him, staring at him in disbelief.
"Look what you've done" Xie Lian continues the scolding. He has even adapted what Xie
Meihua calls the scolding pose, with both hands on his hips, watching them from above with
a serious look. "You have wasted perfectly good food and ruined General Nan Yang's
offerings, as well as disturbing the peace of his temple. Wouldn't General Nan Yang be
disappointed in his subordinate's impulsive attitude, and wouldn't General Xuan Zhen be
disappointed that someone from his palace would allow himself to be provoked in such a
banal manner?"
Both officers part. Xie Meihua can see that they are utterly embarrassed.
"Apologise." Xie Lian orders sharply. Both officers slightly bow their heads.
"Your Highness, I..." they say, at the same time, but Xie Lian quickly denies.
"Apologise to each other. Now."
The look the two generals give each other is almost as disastrous as the way their rumpled
robes and messy hair show traces of the fight. They repeat a terse, mock apology under their
breath before standing up.
"First of all, the Crown Prince you both refer to in your absurd discussion is me" says Xie
Lian earnestly. It is strange for Xie Meihua to hear his father speak so solemnly, with titles he
had left in the past that he didn't even want to mention more than necessary. "And I said
absolutely nothing to spur your silly fight. Don't use me as an excuse to fighting amongst
yourselves."
Xie Meihua feels a strange warmth. Admiration. Adoration. His father is magnificent.
"And, second" he says crisply, turning slightly to look at Xie Meihua. Even if he knows he's
not being scolded, his gaze is so serious that he feels he might as well be. "They are here to
help my son. If he tells them to stop the nonsense of their fighting, they do. What's more, if he
tells them to jump off a cliff, they will. My son has ascended as a God, and Middle Court
should know that all Gods Ascended to the High Court deserve greater respect than the
pathetic squabbles subordinates may have in common."
Xie Meihua observes both gods, in rather humiliating poses for gods, and his stomach
clenches. He still finds it hard to comprehend that he actually ascended as a God. A couple of
weeks earlier he was still begging his father not to get rid of his training weapons because
they were so much easier to fight with than the heavy real swords.
Besides, the small weapons felt much more comfortable, and he didn't lose his balance as
often.
Now, however, even the real swords had disappeared under the landslide.
"And third" his father continues. "If you're going to throw anything away, throw me away:
I've been in the rubbish for the last eight hundred years. Never throw away good food".
Xie Meihua shoots an airy glance at his father, suddenly absolutely angry at the comparison
that his father belongs in the rubbish. His smell sours, irritated, and Xie Lian laughs at his
expression, not taking the genuine concern seriously.
And, for an instant of a second, Xie Meihua is sure he can see pain on the faces of both
officers. But he ignores it.
He's not going to ask too many questions.
Chapter End Notes
My creative liberties that Xie Lian does know the origin of General Nan Yang's
reputation and is just silently laughing at him are very obvious, aren't they? ANYWAY, I
THINK IT'S SOMETHING XIE LIAN WOULD ENJOY, DON'T YOU?
The Xianle + Meihua trio is fun to deal with, much more so than I first thought, BUT
THAT'S WHAT- of course Mu Qing and Fen Xin are remorseful, of course they feel bad
about leaving Xie Lian alone for so long, and of course they want to (somehow) pick up
that contact and get back in their actions. By helping Meihua they hoped for a bit of
their own personal redemption, though they definitely didn't expect Xie Lian to be there
after so long
I'm a crybaby for Xianle trio making up, let me be
LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THOUGHT, AND AGAIN THANK YOU SO MUCH
FOR READING, YOU DON'T KNOW HOW MUCH IT MEANS TO ME
AAAAAAAAAAAAAA
The calm before dawn
Chapter Summary
While Xie Meihua pretends to sleep, the Xianle trio have a conversation.
Chapter Notes
THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE PRETTY COMMENTS, OMG, just today I didn't
answer them because I have to go out on a date (against my will) but I WILL ANSWER
IN THE NIGHT, THANK YOU VERY MUCH
In a blaze of whitish light, Xie Meihua opens his eyes just wide enough to see through his
eyelashes, but remains perfectly still in place. It is absolutely strange to comprehend the
things around him and, for a moment, he wonders if it all really happened. If it wasn't all part
of a nightmare.
Then he hears a murmur:
"We didn't mean to intrude on His Highness" he hears a voice. Xie Meihua quickly
recognises it as Nan Feng's voice. "There are... differences, between the Nan Yang and Xuan
Zhen palaces. I'm afraid we have them too deeply rooted to leave behind."
"I understand" replies his father's voice. He can hear them a few feet away, and were it not
for the absolute silence of an early morning where dawn has not yet come, he could barely
hear them. Their words are whispers barely louder than insect flutters.
"Your Highness" Nan Feng's voice is a little more hesitant, now, and Xie Meihua must
consciously strain to hear. He knows that eavesdropping is really bad, but he also knows that,
if he interrupts, it will probably cause the conversation to never take place. "I don't want to
intrude with my question, but..."
"Is it a question about Xie Meihua?" he is abruptly interrupted by Xie Lian. Xie Meihua
tenses his shoulders slightly.
"It is" says Nan Feng.
"I don’t wish to hear it."

His father had always been blunt about everything regarding his... existence. Xie Meihua
knew this, of course; it was a difficult subject for him to talk about. Xie Lian had spent eight
centuries cultivating himself in abstinence, and one night had been enough to throw it all out
the window.
"Your Highness..."
"No." Xie Lian's tone is firm, with no right to retort.
"Nan Feng has the right to ask" Fu Yao's voice says, and if Xie Meihua isn't surprised enough
that Fu Yao agreed with the one who seemed to have a deep hatred, he is also somewhat
unsettled by the words that follow. "I understand that Your Highness wishes to protect your
son from the truth, but..."
"But?" the tone of Xie Lian is so acidic that Xie Meihua has a feeling that, if it were directed
towards him, he would not dare to even respond or look up. He has only spoken to him like
this once before, and Xie Meihua doesn't want to dwell on the details.
The reply sends a shiver down his spine.
"Xie Meihua possesses extraordinary yin energy." Fu Yao points out. "Despite being an
Alpha, and despite being a man, a newly ascended deity. His yin energy levels are alarming,
and..."
"I don’t wish to have this conversation."
Fu Yao doesn't seem to understand how much he is walking on thin ice. If Xie Meihua could,
he would warn him.
"If Xie Meihua was conceived because some ghost dared to ravish Your Highness and
abandoned him with the responsibility..."
"And if so, what?" his father's tone is venomous; it rises much higher than a whisper, but
short of a shout. It's the tone of voice his father puts on whenever anyone dares to comment
on Xie Meihua and his exceptionally awkward and spoiled personality for an Alpha. "What
would you do, what would you have done? Or can you be the only one who chooses to
abandon me, Mu Qing?"
Xie Meihua feels the air escaping from his lungs. Of course he recognises that name.
"Your Highness..."
"There is no excuse for you to call me that" his father says in a hollow voice. "Nor am I
ignorant of your identity, Feng Xin."
So, Fu Yao and Nan Feng were Mu Qing and Feng Xin, respectively. However, hadn't his
father told him that both of them had ascended as powerful Martial Gods? Why would they
be as part of the Middle Court if...?
Oh, of course they weren't. Fu Yao was not only Mu Qing, he was also General Xuan Zhen.
Nan Feng was not only Feng Xin, but he was also General Nan Yang, under whose Temple he
had been resting.
And he had smashed his golden palace. And he had caused a bell to fall on Mu Qing's head.
Of course his father's bad luck must have stuck to him with his ascension; he had no other
explanation than a vengeance of fate.
"How long have you known?" asks Feng Xin.
"No one else would have offered to help my son." replies Xie Lian. "Which I thank them for.
It is noble of you."
There is silence. Xie Meihua can hear strange whispers, and then, he realizes that his father is
probably sweeping. There are more noises (perhaps a clean-up of the temple's trash?) before
his father decides to speak.
"Xie Meihua was not trained to ascend. Divinity was never his choice or ambition, and
therefore, I decided to keep his training basic" he says after a moment. Xie Lian's tone is
much calmer than before, and exudes devotion. Something warm settles next to Xie Meihua's
heart; it is different from the warmth of affection, it is almost... magical. It is a spiritual
prayer. "He is tall and strong, but he is but a child. He is still clumsy with swords, his balance
is not the best, and long weapons make his balance worse. As you will assume, I also don't
have the money to buy him shorter weapons or weapons that match his skills. I have
protected him all his life, and I have taught him how to defend himself to protect himself
without weapons. I know that, if any situation threatens his life, he can no longer die.
However, he will suffer if he is wounded. Feng Xin, Mu Qing, you must swear to me that you
will protect my son. You will never abandon him. Even if he demands you to leave, you will
stay by his side protecting him, even from himself."
His father's words are laden with protection and adoration. Xie Meihua feels his eyes sting;
he knows it is not good for him to cry. He must keep his scent as neutral as he can, try to keep
his father from noticing that he is already awake, but he cannot help but be touched.
He is aware of his failures. He is aware that he has not exactly ascended as a Martial God,
and that his training could be much more effective if they had the money to get different
weapons that Xie Meihua could test himself with to see which one best suits his body
physiognomy, his skills and his reflexes.
Maybe, now, he could get it, maybe it was possible to buy things in Heaven with merit,
maybe he could buy materials to build a house that wouldn't collapse, fabric for new robes
and weapons to train with his father?
"I swear, Your Highness" they both reply at once after what Xie Meihua thought was almost
an eternity in a minute.
"Thank you."
The silence that stretches out is much more comfortable after the gentle exchange of words.
The oath seems to carry more weight than Xie Meihua understands, but if he's sure of one
thing, it's that he doesn't want to interrupt.
There are more noises that Xie Meihua can recognise as morning routines. It takes him back
to those days when, many years before, he would curl up in his bed wherever they were
staying, listening to the sounds of cooking, cleaning and tidying typical before a productive
morning. Almost always, in those moments, Xie Lian knew his son was only pretending to
sleep and left him.
Maybe he knew it now, too.
"I chose to have Xie Meihua" Xie Lian says almost an incense time of comfortable silence
later. "I, ah... I had spent too much time alone. No one was there. No one was staying."
The silence that follows is almost torturous.
"Your Highness...?"
"Ah, I'm fine now" Xie Lian's voice sounds almost relieved. "I didn't plan it, I mean, it might
sound a bit manipulative if I put it that way, but I swear it wasn't like that!"
Xie Meihua can almost picture his father quickly shaking his head with nervous gestures.
Even if he doesn't see it he's sure that's the gesture he's making.
"I found an Alpha on a rut in my way one night" he says, with a slow explanation. "He was a
pretty fuzzy ghost in his human form, he didn't even have fingerprints, and.... he was
wounded. Soaked in blood and extremely weak. There was a huge wound on the whole side
of his face. I offered my help, but he looked... frail. For a moment I felt like I knew him," and
it's too much information for Xie Meihua, and at the same time, too much information he
doesn't have. He knows that there was obviously another father for him somewhere.
However, he is completely unaware of his identity. Apparently, Xie Lian doesn't know him at
all either. "Even in the midst of his rut, he refused to touch me, or even approach me in a way
that would put me in danger. He was... he was too kind, even though he was delirious with
fever. He repeated over and over again that he had to heal for his beloved, ah. He even
mistook me for him at the end of the night. I still feel guilty about it.”
His father is silent. Xie Meihua almost can see in his mind his embarrassed grimace, covering
his own cheeks with cold fingers. He could almost understand why his father didn't like to
talk about it; of course, Xie Meihua had always thought he felt guilty for not having the
Alpha's explicit consent out of the rut. Now, it made sense: if the Alpha had had a beloved,
and his father had meddled.... That was uncomfortable to even accept.
“I had been through some misfortunes lately, and too much kindness on his part overwhelmed
me. I walked him to a place where he could cool off, but his pheromones caused my own heat
to spike. That was a little harder to contain."
He doesn't say anything else from that point on, and from the level of censorship in his
words, Xie Meihua knows that his father is aware that he is not actually asleep. Still, he keeps
his breathing steady. He can pretend until the conversation is over.
"What happened next?" asks Feng Xin. Xie Meihua wonders the same thing.
"I fled from there."
He doesn't understand why that answer from his father sounds so accurate to him. He can
almost picture him scratching his neck nervously, smiling awkwardly, rather embarrassed as
he says it.
"I don't remember much" Xie Lian says, but something about the tone in which he says it gets
Xie Meihua to know that he's lying. "I was really embarrassed and intimidated by... the whole
situation" he pauses, as if plucking up the courage to continue. "I had just broken almost
eight hundred years of abstinence just because an Alpha was nice to me. Just nice. So
embarrassing! I just left as soon as I could, and when I didn't have my heat for the next few
months, it was only a matter of time before the worst symptoms of pregnancy began. I knew I
was expecting Xie Meihua, and I also knew that this stranger had given me the best gift in the
world."
There is a pause. It is so quiet that Xie Meihua can hear his own heartbeat.
"I was never going to be alone again."
Dawn is becoming more and more apparent. The first birds begin to chirp sunbeam-painted
melodies.
"Your Highness, do you not know the identity of the Alpha?" asks Feng Xin. All that
moment, Mu Qing has remained in a burning silence.
"No" says Xie Lian, which is true. Xie Meihua knows that, had he known, he would have at
least made him acquainted. "I do, however, know his name."
Now that is new information.
A part of Xie Meihua itches to know.
"Tell me" says Mu Qing. His voice is a rough cut. "Your Highness, I'll put all my
subordinates out to find him, he have to take responsibility of..."
"No need, no need" Xie Lian's voice is still nonchalant. "It's been almost seventeen years
since that time, ah. He probably doesn't even remember me, he was totally out of his mind,
and he had a tattoo on one arm that was probably the name of a person he truly loved. That's
how devoted he was to his love. I don't want him to feel responsible for something that's not
his fault."
"But, Your Highness..." insists Mu Qing.
Xie Lian remains firm.

"I will not give in on this, Mu Qing" and it is again the firm voice, almost being a scolding
that comes out of his father's mouth. "Xie Meihua will come of age before long. He still has
almost two years to go. When he does, he will be free to commit any kind of insane act such
as roaming the continent and dead countries in search of his father, if he so desires. However,
it is of my own desire to protect my son from a stranger not even recognising him and
breaking his heart."
Xie Meihua understands. He had never felt any particular fondness for seeking out his other
father, nor any resentment on his behalf beyond a couple of tears dropped when he was a
child.
He had had a good explanation at the right age, and soon, Xie Meihua understood that events
like this just happened. And that he couldn't just show up at an unknown Alpha's house,
telling him he was his son, and expect acceptance and affection.
That Alpha probably didn't even expect to have impregnated his father, let alone expect his
father to have kept him. It wasn't what unmarried Omegas did. Without a prior commitment,
no one would want to take charge. Even if what Xie Lian described of the man was full
kindness, he could never be sure what to expect if he ever met him face to face.
Rejection? Acceptance? Hate? Contempt? A new home?
He had preferred to live with the ghost of a doubt rather than a cruel certainty.
"When my son desires it, however" he says slowly, "I expect you to yield to your
subordinates in aiding his quest, should he request it."
"Of course, Your Highness" replies Mu Qing. Feng Xin makes a chorus of his words:
"I will offer my assistance as well."
"That's very good" and Xie Lian's tone is much more cheerful. "Can you guys take care of
picking up this mess? I'll go wake up my son. Let's get some breakfast before we establish
what our plans are. After all, we have a ghost groom to catch."
Xie Meihua closes his eyes and completely relaxes his body. He tries to make his scent totally
relaxed and neutral, but he knows it's impossible to fool his father, especially when a gentle
caress brushes away a few escaped strands of his hairstyle from his face.
Xie Lian drops a kiss on the top of his head. Then another against his hair, and another
against his cheek, tickling his breath.
"I know you're awake" he whispers. Xie Meihua opens his eyes feeling absolutely guilty for
eavesdropping. "It's okay. I understand" Xie Lian continues whispering, helping him to sit up.
Xie Lian retrieves his outer robe that he had given Xie Meihua to cover himself in the night,
and Ruoye makes a curious movement from his wrist, darting over to caress Xie Meihua's
cheek.
"Good morning, A-die," he hums softly. His father smiles as he lets his spirit weapon scurry
around Xie Meihua's own wrist, giving it a warm squeeze as he strokes his cheek, almost
rubbing it like a house cat. "Good morning, Ruoye."
"I can tell you his name, if that's what you'd like" Xie Lian says just a moment later. Xie
Meihua can feel exactly the way his heart skips a beat. "But it's not something you should
feel obligated to know, or to look up. Or you can look it up, if that's what you want. We never
talked about it formally, and I think since you're a God now, you can make your own
decisions about it."
"I'm fine with my A-die" Xie Meihua murmurs, trying to make his father understand his
infinite love with just a word. "I don't want to walk away from you."
"I know" Xie Lian smiles warmly. Even if his face barely looks older than him own, Xie
Meihua can notice the maturity in his eyes. "If you wanted, I could accompany you."
"Really?" he asks, almost too soon, too quickly. Contrary to what Xie Meihua thinks, his
father doesn't look hurt from his quick response. He nods, taking his face in his hands, giving
it a playful squeeze.
"My little baobei is a God now" Xie Lian jokes, tugging playfully at his cheeks. Xie Meihua
tries to slink away, laughing regardless. "We'll have an eternity together to do whatever you
want. We've already collected a lot of trash."
Suddenly a horrible thought makes him freeze in place.
"A-die" he hesitates, his tone horrified. Xie Lian stops his cuddling, looking at him with
concern. "Am I going to be sixteen forever?"
When Mu Qing and Feng Xin re-enter the temple after taking out the rubbish they do so
because they are attracted by Xie Lian's shrill laughter at his young son's very horrified
expression.
Chapter End Notes
And here is Xie Lian's long-awaited version of what happened that night seventeen
years ago!
MQ & FX: Your Highness, tell me and I will search for your son's father across land and
sea, HE MUST TAKE RESPONSIBILITY
HC: *sneezing somewhere in ghost city*.
As always each of your comments makes me feel happy! Thank you so much for
brightening up my days!
Thank you very much for always reading! See you in the next chapter!!
Breakfast next to a bride's head
Chapter Summary
After breakfast, they finally find a bride to catch the ghost groom.
Chapter Notes
Yes, I WAS responding to comments, I'll keep responding right now!! I am

overwhelmed by the enormous love I am receiving and feel I have no words to express
how SO GRATEFUL I am for your loving, kind words, they make me feel better than I
have felt all this year, THANK YOU!! <3
At dawn they return to the teahouse. His father pays, and while it's not the best breakfast in
the world, Xie Meihua is grateful to face whatever they were going to face with a stomach
full of edible, unburnt, uncooked food.
"The teahouse master thinks we're crazy" Xie Meihua comments. Xie Lian smiles.
"We should be grateful that he thinks so" says Xie Lian, quite smiling as he takes a deep sip
of tea.
"So" Xie Meihua tries to take order of the situation. It is his mission, after all. He must
behave as a god would behave, even if he has no idea how to do this. "After last night's
discussion were you able to come to any conclusion as to what we shall do?"
"Kill him, obviously" replies (who must remind himself Xie Meihua is not supposed to know
the true identity of the Martial God) Fu Yao, rolling his eyes.
Nan Feng snorts.
"Idiot, we already know."
"And was there any need to call me an idiot? I was putting an important point on the table!"
points out Fu Yao.
"As if we're all so dumb here that we wouldn't be able to comprehend that we have to kill this
ghost?" defends Nan Feng.
"I don't know, I doubt you would have thought of it on your own." Fu Yao replies in a manner
obviously implying the start of a new fight.
Xie Meihua slams the table so abruptly that cups jump off their plates and tea splashes. It's
too early to have to take care of a headache, he is absolutely certain of this fact.
"It's too early to be so rude!" he almost growls instead, closing his eyes and clenching his
forehead. The beginnings of annoyance at having to take care of two Gods who won't stop
insulting each other is starting to itch, and even more so if you over think the idea that both
Gods are Mu Qing and Feng Xin, who were once his father's friends and abandoned him.
"We already know we have to kill him. The question is how we will get to him, in what place,
in what way. If it had been so easy to simply kill him, they would have done it before without
divine intervention."
He opens his eyes when there is no answer. Both gods stare at him almost dumbfounded.
"Ah" Xie Meihua cocks his head, curious at the men's reaction. "Did I say something
wrong?"
"Not at all" his father replies, with what seems like pride making him glower. The scent of a
satisfied and proud Omega gets Xie Meihua to shift uncomfortably in his seat. "So, does Your
Highness have any plans?"
The way his father says that to him, letting his face rest in his hand and looking at him fondly,
gets Xie Meihua to redden to the roots of his hair.
"A-die" he whines, utterly embarrassed. "Don't call me that."
"Fu Yao and Nan Feng call you that" his father reminds him playfully. "Why can't your old
dad do it too?"
"No one should call me that" he complains again. He tries to organise his thoughts as best he
can after feeling humiliated and mocked like that; he knows his father didn't mean it that way,
yet the humiliation persists. "And, actually, I had been thinking about an idea but..."
But they are abruptly interrupted by fanfare outside the teahouse.
Events unfold too quickly for Xie Meihua to comprehend or act upon. The red palanquin
teetering on itself and the bride inside crumbles, her head falling into a ring of blood-
coloured veils.
The bride turns out to be a wooden doll, and the wedding procession turns out to be a
fruitless act to lure the Ghost Groom. Of course the greedy men would care more about
catching a creature if they had a cash prize, than just helping their community. Xie Meihua
felt rage flowing through his veins, even more so when a girl tries to beg not to go to
mountain Yu Jun and is assaulted by an idiot.
Xie Meihua has experience fighting in an almost streetwise manner, even if he tries to hide it
from his father; his sometimes torn clothes are usually not a good way to hide it from him.
Being an Alpha who carries a sack of rubbish on his shoulder and goes door to door receiving
other people's scraps with kindness would obviously bring ridicule, and obviously in those
situations Xie Meihua does the same as he does now: one grunt, one accurate blow, and the
idiot falls backwards in full impact before fleeing with his group of risk-taking, bounty-
seeking jerks.
Despite the circumstances, leaving the teahouse for the scandal brings them new information
they might not otherwise have had.
Like the ‘ugly creature’ who was hiding in the Yu Jun mountain; tales talked about him being
born so ugly that he stole brides as a revenge because no woman would want him.
"Isn't this just speculation from villagers?" asks Xie Meihua; the teahouse owner doesn't
seem as oblivious to the subject as he first thought.
"Who knows? Many people have seen the ghost groom before, in the village at dusk. His
whole face is wrapped in bandages and only his eyes can be seen. He doesn't speak, he just
roars like a wild beast."
Explanations are scarce, but a heavy feeling in the pit of Xie Meihua's stomach tells his that
this ‘bandaged boy’ couldn't possibly be the ghost groom. There's no case for him to be. The
tales of the ghost groom and missing brides, though popular at the time, dated back decades,
almost a century, to the point that the people of the village already made it a rule not to have
any wedding processions at all. It was impossible that this boy (who, moreover, had been
seen and heard to the point of growing recent rumours) was the ghost groom at least a
century old.
"I don't think he is" says Xie Meihua, trying to control the girl, who looks desperate to stop
them from approaching Mountain Yu Jun. "If he is, it wouldn't make sense that he was only
recently seen in the village, when the disappearances have been going on for some time."
They dismiss the girl with a couple of kind words afterwards. Xie Meihua returns to the table,
taciturn after the violence, his tea almost cold after the hustle and bustle, feeling sordid
heaviness in the pit of his stomach. There is a strange... feeling. There is something rushing
through the wind, in the atmosphere, and it comes from inside the forest, fading more and
more as the sun emerges higher in the sky.
However, it doesn't seem to be something the officers and even his father can feel, even if
Xie Meihua feels it almost itchy. It's like an itch he can't scratch burning in his fingertips,
blood flowing too hard, his heart beating too heavy.
It is an alert. It is dangerous.
Why don't any of them seem to notice?
"What rank is the ghost groom?" his father is asking. Fu Yao and Nan Feng are quickly
ignorant about it, and Xie Meihua quickly communicates with Ling Wen to corroborate this
piece of information; if anyone should know, surely he is that someone.
Not only does he get the ghost's rank, which Ling Wen's Palace lists as "Wrath", but he also
gets a curious detail that buzzes in his mind just after the conversation ends.
"Ling Wen says the ghost is rank Wrath" says Xie Meihua, just before admitting: "I haven't
the slightest idea what that means."
"Ghosts are defined by ranks" his father explains politely, telling him the details of each rank.
Apparently, the ghost being a "Wrath" is far more dangerous and problematic than they
already feared, and at the same time completely rules out that the blindfolded boy could be
one.
"That's not good" he admits quietly, and then, he informs them: "Ling Wen said something
else, something I thought was very strange."
"What thing?" asks Nan Feng. Fu Yao's expression is rather self-absorbed in a rather
thoughtful way.
"Uh, she mentioned that the incense in the Ming Guang Temples burns prosperously.
However, aren't there supposed to be no Ming Guang Temples in the vicinity?" he asks,
finally. Fu Yao's gaze rises to his, as if he had somehow been aware of this curious fact even
before Xie Meihua verbalised it. He had probably also been aware of the spiritual connection
array, even if his higher alter ego Mu Qing didn't mention anything about it.
"That's very curious" notes Xie Lian almost blandly. "But, now that we know how strong our
ghost groom is, how can we lure him out to face him?"
Xie Meihua doubts that they can trick the ghost groom with such a cheap contraption as a
doll. If the villagers hadn't been able to, let alone them. It had to be someone alive, if possible
a bride... or someone who could take her place with a very good disguise.
Fu Yao is the first to speak, coming to much the same conclusion.
"We can look for a woman who wants to dress up as a bride and be our bait."
"No" says Nan Feng flatly. "We can't do that."
"We can give her money if she's not willing" Fu Yao continues to insist. Xie Meihua suddenly
understands that Nan Feng sometimes wants to hit him. Suddenly his hand itches wanting to
hit him to make him understand such idiocy he is saying.
"It's a stupid idea" he says.
"Language" Xie Lian reprimands him. Xie Meihua feels his ears burning.
"I'm sorry" he quickly apologizes, trying to ignore Fu Yao's mocking look on him at being
scolded so openly. "But it is. And extremely risky. I don't think any amount of money would
be worth it for someone to put themselves in danger before a rank ghost Wrath, specifically
an innocent one."
"Your Highness is right" and although Xie Lian's voice sounds playful as he mentions it, he
doesn't actually seem to sneer as he says the title. "It's not fair to anyone for us to put the
sacrifice of an innocent as a bargaining chip for catching the ghost groom. We would be no
better than our violent bounty hunters."
"So, if we can't take a woman" Fu Yao begins, and his look says much more than his mouth,
"let's take a man who can pretend to be one. An omega would pass easily as a bride, and can
defend himself and disguise. "
"That's even more ridiculous," complains Nan Feng. "Where, in the three realms, can we find
an omega man willing to disguise as a bride and at the same time can defend himself
against...?"
They both fall silent. Xie Meihua traces his gaze directly to Xie Lian, who is taking another
sip of his tea, totally oblivious to the celestial officials' almost wild glances at him.
Well. His father can defend himself just fine. Xie Meihua watches him as well, seriously
considering the idea as a small smile begins to creep across his face.
Chapter End Notes
I know it's a short chapter, but honestly it's as quiet as the next ones are going to be, SO,
take it as a breather before the action starts
MQ: I am also an omega capable of defending itself

FX: But would you dressup as a bride?
MQ: Yeah, Your Highness is better
As always, thank you all for reading, commenting, and filling my heart with love! My
days are absolutely better since I share them with you!
And if you want more details, I'm usually posting stuff on twitter about the fic or other
ideas I'm working on, so you can go squeal at me over there too! It's @xiao_baihua, at
your service!
See you in the next chapter!!! <3
The bride of a ghost flower
Chapter Summary
Xie Meihua embroiders his father's crimson wedding dress and gets a story... and a
name.
Chapter Notes
Thank you very much for reading, as always! My days shine brighter and feel better
thanks to you, your kudos, comments, EVERYTHING, thank you so much!
"I'm sorry, I don't have the time to embroider some of Xianle's design" apologises Xie
Meihua, finishing sewing the last pieces of fabric. The crimson bridal dress had been a little
smaller than Xie Lian's entire body, but after a few folds, cuts and seams, it fit his body
elegantly and comfortably.
"Ah, don't say such things" his father laughed, almost nervously. "You're already doing too
much for me. My little boy shouldn't be sewing his silly old father's wedding dress."
"Of course I should" insists his Xie Meihua. His smile is utterly playful as he finishes the last
bit of sewing, the thread keeping the pieces of fabric snug against his body much more
snugly than tight. "You're getting married after all, what son wouldn't be completely thrilled
about his A-die's marriage?"
Xie Lian laughs, playing along.
"A jealous son?" his father asks. Xie Meihua denies, humming under his breath as he threads
a needle, now with golden thread. The golden butterfly decorating the chest of the dress is
poorly embroidered, something he must mend. "Or a protective son who knows his father is
marrying against his will?"
"Don't fall into stereotypes" Xie Meihua knot the thread and flips the fabric over, pulling the
half-open edge to bind it into a small decoration of golden thread. He tries to make the
butterfly shape naturally embroidered on the red fabric look more... stylised. It looks silly and
almost childish with round wings and clumsy embroidery on a small size, and not at all in
keeping with his father; even if it's a fiction they're making up to make Xie Meihua's nerves
fade, he doesn't want his father to look ridiculous. "You would never marry against your will.
You've raised me on your own protecting me, waiting for the right person to come along who
has your heart and can protect your son with the same love you've always shown him."
"So, this groom has my heart" Xie Lian says, smiling. Xie Meihua nods, stretching the edge
of the butterfly silhouette to one side. Its wings are more elongated now, almost sharp. The
stitches are quick and firm.
"Of course" agrees Xie Meihua. "And who knows?" his smile spreads in an almost teasing
way. "There might actually be a very interesting story behind this groom who has your heart.
Maybe you've actually been looking for him for seventeen whole years, and when you finally
found him, you just wanted to get married once and for all."
"Seventeen years is a while" laughs Xie Lian. "Why would I look for someone for seventeen
years?"
Xie Meihua quickly fills in the butterfly pattern. He cuts the thread with his teeth and
proceeds to the other wing, spreading the embroidery in the same way.
"Because you love him" says Xie Meihua, looking at him fondly. His father looks rather
amused, even if Xie Meihua's words are real. He wants them to be real. He wants his father to
love, to be loved, to feel worthy of love. "You deserve to marry someone you love so much
that looking for him for seventeen years is all you would want to do. And meet him again,
marry him..."
"I've raised a very romantic son" Xie Lian says, interrupting him. Xie Meihua clicks his
tongue, a little annoyed.
"You've raised a son who adores you" Xie Meihua complains, "and who wants the best for
you. You deserve to marry someone who has sought you out for over seventeen years, A-
die."
Xie Meihua looks up just long enough to see his father avert his gaze, his cheeks pink.
"It's not in my plans to marry." Xie Lian says. "This is all... A small favour for my favourite
god."
Xie Meihua rolls his eyes; perhaps he is spending too much time with Fu Yao if the action
comes so naturally to him. Nevertheless, being an itch in the side for the omega likes him.
And he also likes the massive amount of jealous pheromones Nan Feng releases every time
he comes up behind Fu Yao, which Fu Yao seems to ignore.
Irritating them is extremely fun.
"It wasn't in your plans to have a child either" he defends himself. Xie Lian smiles.
"It wasn't" he humbly agrees. "I didn't plan it either. It just happened, and I loved you every
day since. It amazes me that my devotion didn't get you promoted sooner. You would have
been absolutely adorable, a little baby in patched robes ascending in a halo of light..."
Xie Meihua looks away from his father, his face burning with embarrassment.
"A-die!" he whines. His father laughs, thoroughly encouraged. "You're embarrassing me."
"You don't have to be ashamed of your father's devotion" Xie Lian says gently. "You deserve
it. You are my perfect, perfect child. If you had not ascended at least once in this life, I would
have been personally offended with the Heavens. Perhaps I would have burned down a
temple or two."
"You're overreacting" Xie Meihua takes a breath, trying to calm his embarrassment. He
returns to his embroidery, trying to make the stitches neater in pattern detail and less hurried,
but they don't have that much time either. They will leave at nightfall, and he must still
arrange his father to look like a bride, even if his face will be covered with a veil. "I don't like
the Heavens" he confesses a moment later.
His father looks curious at that moment.
"Is your decoration bad?"
Xie Meihua doesn't know whether to laugh or cry at the genuine question.
"It's very good" he admits. "It's very elegant. But I don't like the Heavens because you're not
there."
When he looks at his father he can see a slight hesitation on his face.
"Meihua..."
Xie Meihua quickly denies.
"I will repay my debt and renounce divinity" he says firmly. He hasn't told anyone but Ling
Wen before, but he is absolutely certain of this decision: he doesn't want this divinity that
crawls over his skin like a foreign entity. His whole body seems to reject it, to fight against it.
With his cultivation path he had felt powerful many times throughout his adolescence, but the
divinity felt like a heavy golden burden on his shoulders, limiting his movements and making
him fully aware that there was something there, something uncomfortable and warm making
him feel like an intruder inside his own body. "I didn't want to ascend. I don't want to be part
of a Heaven that treated you so unfairly. I don't want to be surrounded by those that... Who
were able to... To allow..."
Xie Meihua notices his tears as one falls on the red cloth, obscuring it. He also notices that he
is squeezing the cloth in his fingers too tightly, crumpling it, and he carefully spreads it out
before wiping the tears away with the sleeves of his robe.
Something in the divinity makes his body feel unbearably weak, worn and broken.
Something in the divinity crashes against his meridians, dazing him and making him feel
unsteady, vulnerable, little.
His father settles down beside him, embracing him. The embrace gives him comfort, all the
more so when his father begins to rub soothing circles on his back.
"It's not the Heavens' fault, Meihua."

"It is" he whines. His father sighs.
"It's not all black and white, baobei. I have done a lot of things, they have done a lot of
things. We all make choices, and we must take responsibility for the choices we make. My
banishment is a punishment I deserve to pay, and I have accepted it willingly."
"But..."
"No buts" his father's voice is soft, but firm at the same time. "This is neither the time nor the
place to have this conversation, my boy. And I ask you please don't make that decision so
soon and so impulsively" Xie Lian pauses, as if a small realization has suddenly flashed in
his mind. Xie Meihua feels a little stunned at the sudden warmth that washes over him when
his father smiles. "However, we can go back to why you're so obsessed with your old father
getting married."
Xie Meihua wipes away the last of his tears before staring into his eyes.
"Because I want you to be happy" he says simply. "A-die, you deserve love."
"I have my little son's love" Xie Lian cooed; even so, his tone is quick, elusive. Xie Meihua,
however, denies.
"A-die" his tone is a complaint and a plea at the same time.
Nan Yang Temple feels like a strange embrace of tranquillity and normality. It is not the first
time Xie Meihua has restored in a robe while taking refuge in a temple. His father had
confessed to him that, before he had him, he had never worried about having a roof over his
head. However, after confirming that he was waiting for him, he never lacked a roof over his
head, even if he was hiding in a temple of the Celestial Emperor himself, stealing food from
his offerings, begging his forgiveness for such audacity.
His father sighs.
"I'm coming of age soon" says Xie Meihua, taking courage. He lowers his eyes to his
embroidery, the golden patterns on the cloth clumsily mimicking the patterns of the small
translucent butterfly he saw in the teahouse. It was too beautiful to be pushed away from his
memory. "I don't ever want to get away from my A-die. But, I know it can't be just us against
the world. I know it will happen sometime. I respect my path of cultivation, but I know it
won't last forever. Someday I'm going to fall in love with someone who loves me with all
their heart, and marry that person in red."
The words coming from his lips are silly, but firm. He has never uttered it out loud, even if he
knows it. He has decided to follow the cultivation of abstinence for the sole purpose that the
energy of the cultivation would tear the worst of his ruts from his instincts, preventing him
from behaving like a wild animal and could be soothed only with herbs and a good night's
rest.
"Whoever I marry, I want to provide happiness and love. And I don't want my A-die to lack
any of that. I want you to have someone with you, someone who will love you the way you
deserve to be loved, and care for you the way you deserve to be cared for. Someone who will
really make you understand that you don't deserve to be in the rubbish if I haven't been able
to. A-die, I care about you. You've been alone too long and I don't want you to be alone ever
again."
Xie Meihua is silent. Huddled against each other, he can hear the rustle of the fabric of his
father's robes moving with his increasingly ragged breathing. When he looks up, he finds
himself face to face with his father's eyes, kind and tear-laden.
"My Meihua, my little flower" whispers Xie Lian, stroking his hair. It is a mime so small and
yet so laden with affection that Xie Meihua is melting with adoration. "I have raised a perfect
child. So wise and so responsible to his silly old father."
"A-die" Xie Meihua complains. "Please. Keep yourself open to the possibility of meeting
someone and letting them truly get close to you. Just... consider it."
"I will consider it" Xie Lian promises. His smile spreads as one of the tears falls. Ruoye
suddenly reaches out from inside his sleeve to wipe the tear from his face, causing Xie Lian
to laugh.
Xie Meihua laughs too. He returns to his embroidery, eventually being disturbed by Ruoye,
who seems to peek curiously from between his bowed face, as if he can see the butterfly
pattern perfecting itself further and further away from the clumsy insect and closer to the
flashing silver butterfly that reunited him with his father.
"I have a good story for this bride" says Xie Lian suddenly, as if struck by a lapse of
inspiration. Xie Meihua hums doubtfully, encouraging him to speak as he returns his hands to
work the pattern of his quick embroidery. "I will marry the father of my child. After
seventeen years of searching for him by sea and land, I finally found him. And he, in fact, has
always been looking for me with his heart in his hands, ready to give it to me. After one night
with this fragile bride in his innermost youth, the groom confirmed that the lady whose name
decorated his skin was an adolescent foolishness that could well be a thing of the past. That
his heart belonged to the beautiful bride in white who came to his aid."
"And I'm the romantic!" sneers Xie Meihua; the story seems utterly merciless in what
romance is all about. If such a play existed, Xie Meihua is absolutely certain that the ladies
would weep for a love that will never be fulfilled with the same majesty. Even he would
weep for such a love.
Her father laughs jovially.
"Hua Cheng" says Xie Lian, abruptly and unexpectedly, with the shadow of a smile on his
lips as he says it. Xie Meihua raises his head, missing the stitch in the fabric so abruptly that
the needle sinks into his finger. He barely feels the pain.
"What?" asks Xie Meihua. His father smiles in an almost nostalgic way.
"His name" he replies. There is a soft pink glow on his cheeks. "I've never said it again in
seventeen years."
Xie Meihua takes a deep breath. Hua Cheng. Meihua. Hua. A flower. A strange smile begins
to curve across his face, even if he is unable to put an exact emotion to it.
"Is that why I'm a flower?" he asks. His father nods.
"I wanted to name something of him in you" he explains almost delicately. "I wanted to
remember him. He gave me my most precious gift, he forever tore the loneliness out of me,
even if I never saw him again. He deserved to be remembered every day."
"Thank you" says Xie Meihua, and suddenly, his own name seems warmer and fuller. There
are little gaps he didn't know were there filling in, completing themselves, giving meaning to
many things in his life. There are beats of silence in which he simply feels, feels himself
completing, filling himself with pieces that he didn't know how empty they had felt until that
moment.
He knows he has his A-die's nose, angular face and smile, but he never understood where to
find the things about him that were just... different. With a name there, Xie Meihua throws
out all those totally different details between his father and him, completing him. That man
must be his other father. That man who might also be good at the arts, who might enjoy
carving or painting, who might have an incredibly clumsy hand at calligraphy, or who might
prefer shorter, closer-contact weapons when it comes to fighting.
Hua Cheng.
The name completes itself inside him, knocking the air out of him, making him feel as if
nothing else can dwell in his heart and consciousness. It lasts for several moments in which,
again, he rests his hand on his own heart. Xie Meihua feels his heartbeat quicken, so fast that
it almost buzzes against his fingers, until he takes it all in with honest understanding.
"When you get your merits to cover your debt, we can look it up together if that's what you
want" his father says, as if he has no longer given his the best and most unexpected gift by
completing a piece of him that, until now, he hadn't known was so empty. "Although, you
know, from that tattoo of his beloved, he's probably married, and maybe has children of his
own, ah, it's been seventeen years after all! He must look very different."
"Will you really come with me?" asks Xie Meihua, only after a little hesitation. Xie Lian
smiles at him.
"For the happiness of my baobei, I would go to the end of this world."
Even despite the statement, Xie Meihua prays inwardly that he doesn't have to go that far to
find his other father. He has no desire to embark on another crazy, risky adventure without
even knowing how the disaster he has just embarked on will end.
Chapter End Notes

FENGQING CRUMBLES, TELL ME YOU DON'T HYPE ME FOR FENGQING
CRUMBLES
On twitter I decided that Meihua is a romantic with the idea of love, but in reality he is
demisexual and panromantic, which has nothing to do with the plot, but it was
impossible for me not to make him queer
No gender only rebellion against the Heavens
I love you so much! See you in the next chapter, which will be A DOUBLE! I'll try to
update in the morning and in the afternoon, I'm not that cruel! <3
Meeting the ghost groom, part one
Chapter Summary
Xie Meihua has a panic attack, and receives a new title. The hunt for the Ghost Groom
begins.
Chapter Notes
Hello baby, hello, welcome to the new update! First part of today's double update! And
FOR THE FIRST TIME we have a little pov from Xie Lian today!
And this fanfic has its first TW: beginnings of panic attack triggered by the feeling of
not being enough and low self-esteem, not narrated in first person, but expressed with
what it implies. If any of this works as a trigger for you, please take it with care!
Xie Lian doesn't know whether to laugh or cry when, after almost four entire times of
incense, his son has just passed the last brushstroke over his face.
"Ready" he says, with obvious pride.
Xie Lian has watched his little baobei transform a block of wood into the bust of Ling Wen in
one of her male forms for a bag of gold coins that helped them build their little chicken coop
and sustained them for an entire season. He have seen him carving combs, wooden horses
and flowers. He had seen him use his brush on parchment and, instead of creating chaos with
barely legible calligraphy, pour art onto paper.
He had encouraged his artistic side since childhood, acknowledging and neglecting his
calligraphy lessons to congratulate and take pride in the beautiful art his son created. For that
very reason, when a mirror ends up in his hands and all Xie Lian can see there is a real bride,
pride begins to fill him until he feels like he might explode.
There is a pink blush on his face, barely noticeable, and every angle of his face is perfectly
framed. Xie Lian recognises his own beauty and is not ignorant of this fact: not for nothing
had so many ladies left their devotion and offerings at his ancient temples in forgotten Xianle,
when he was not yet a Disgraced God. Yet for years he had barely been able to look more
than presentable, attacked by dehydration and lack of proper nourishment.
With Xie Meihua in his care and from the moment he knew he was expecting him, Xie Lian
had taken care of his nutrition and health. However, all he had been able to do was look...
healthy.
Now, his son seemed to have dragged a mask of royalty, dignity and beauty over him. Even
with lips softly coloured red, his eyes are framed by two strands of hair that escape the
intricate hairstyle. His eyelashes look longer, much darker, and his lighter eyes are enveloped
in a red that outlines his gaze making him look elegant and refined.
Xie Lian opens his mouth several times, trying to say something, but all he can say after a
long moment of appreciation is a simple: "Thank you."
Even if he doesn't know what he is thanking.
Xie Meihua is almost a full head taller than him when they are both standing. Even so, Xie
Lian takes it upon himself to fix the escaping locks of his son's hairstyle.
"You'll be my companion" he says, struggling to remember how to smile. His happiness had
never been elusive in all the time he'd had Xie Meihua, but the older his little boy grew, the
more it felt like it slipped through his fingers like sand. Now, his little boy is not so little, and
he is a god. Xie Lian doesn't know whether to laugh or cry at the terror that pushes his heart
at the thought of loneliness maddening him again. Try as he might to be strong, he is sure of
one thing: he never wants to be alone again. "You must also look smart. You will deliver this
bride to his romantic destiny."
His words don't sound so animated. His son doesn't sound so cheerful either.
"I hope the groom treats you well, A-die" is all he says. Xie Lian rubs the arms of his son,
who has also changed his robes, now sporting much more sober black ones, even if the red
remains on the high collar.
Red had always flattered his son, making his skin gleam like a star, and now he wrapped his
neck in a robe he quickly reformed as Xie Lian tried to get into the wedding robes, this time
without tearing them with his movements.
"You're afraid" Xie Lian says, suddenly recognising him. His son doesn't deny it. He nods,
and can almost notice how he wants to shrink into himself and hide.
"A-die" his voice is a low whisper, sad and terrified "What am I going to do? I don't... I don't
even know how to wield a sword properly. I don't even have one with me now. Ling Wen said
he could lend me spirit weapons, but, I had no idea that existed as something that could be
lent! What if we have to fight the ghost groom? What if I have to fight by myself? What will
I do?"
Like a wilting flower, Xie Meihua crumbles in his arms. Xie Lian catches him tightly,
squeezing him so hard he's sure it must hurt his son, but he doesn't let go. It doesn't take long
for the sobs to come.
"You'll do well" he promises. Because that's all he can promise. He has not raised his son to
become a God, he has not taught him fighting and tactics, he has not taught him martial
strategy or how to cultivate coolness in his heart in the face of catastrophe. His son wasn't
supposed to aspire to godhood, either, so how was he to know? How was he to know that his
little boy had so suddenly now transformed into a God? "You can do it, Meihua. I believe in
you."
"A-die" his son sobs, hiding in his tight embrace. "I don't want this. I don't want to be a God.
I just want us to be able to build a nicer house than the one we lost and not get out of bed
until it's time for breakfast."
Xie Lian cooing at him. He brushes his hair with his fingers and lets his son sob into his
shoulder, letting his soft, soothing scent seep through. Xie Meihua may be an Alpha, but even
more than an Alpha, he was a child. A teenager. His little boy who hadn't finished growing
up yet, and who wasn't meant to feel even an inch of the pain Xie Lian must have felt in the
nearly eight hundred years he hadn't.
"We will build a house" says Xie Lian. "And I will build you a temple. I will build you a very
beautiful temple, with a tiled roof, and a very comfortable prayer cushion. And I will always
have incense for you. And you will have merit, devotees, and power, and no one will ever be
able to harm you. You will never have to suffer."
Xie Meihua sobs a little harder into his shoulder, squeezing him tighter in his embrace. It
takes almost an entire incense time for him to calm down, and when he does, only little
hiccups, puffy eyes, and a very red nose remain.
"My sweet child, my love" Xie Lian cooed lovingly to him, not caring that he is taller than he
is. "Everything will be alright. Nan Feng and Fu Yao will take care of you. I made them
swear it" he says. Even if he knows his son heard much of the conversation, he's not entirely
sure how much he heard, and reminding him is not a bad idea. "They'll lend you a sword. You
will have Ruoye on your wrist obeying your every command and protecting you. I ordered a
short sword for you, and you'll be able to move around more comfortably if anything
happens, okay, my treasure? You'll be safe, everything will be fine."
With cuddling, gentle caresses and a couple more hugs, finally Xie Meihua seems to stabilize
completely. The scent that fills Nan Yang Temple is a pungent ache of a suffering Alpha
embraced by the affectionate softness of an Omega providing comfort. It makes sense that,
even if Xie Lian can smell Mu Qing and Feng Xin outside the temple, neither of them have
dared to enter.
"How do you feel?" he asks, instead. Xie Meihua wipes away his tears and takes deep breaths
that seek to calm the steady hiccups escaping from himself.
"Scared" he confesses. "I'm not afraid of ghosts" he clarifies quickly "but I'm afraid... I'm
afraid something will happen. It's a very dangerous ghost, it's... I'm afraid I won't be able to
be enough."
Xie Lian reaches for his son's hand and squeezes it between his hands tightly.
"You are my son" he says reverently. "You have royal blood running through your veins; you
are the heritage of the ancient Kingdom of Xianle, with the strength that prosperous kingdom
has left directly in your blood. You are the son of the Flower Crowned God Martial, who,
moreover, has risen to be banished not once, but twice, when no one expected anything more
from me. You carry my blood, my devotion and my worship in you. You need not be enough
for anything or anyone. You are already everything. Nothing you do will be a disappointment
to me, or for no one."
Xie Meihua clenches his hands with his fingers. He swallows nervously but nods, and his
shoulders square back, straightening his posture.
Even with bloodshot eyes and an overly red nose, all Xie Lian sees is a God. And the best of
all Gods, the most worthy of full altars and temples everywhere.
He is already devout.
"I am ready" he says, without any hesitation. Xie Lian smiles broadly.
"Then let's not keep my ghost groom waiting" he says, pulling the veil over his face, even if
he is a little sorry to hide the ruthlessly beautiful work his son had done to his face. Feng Xin
and Mu Qing probably would have had a fit seeing his face so pretty, so reminiscent of his
Crown Prince days.
His son offers him his hand and, a bow, companion him with a firm hand back to the crimson
wedding palanquin.
"Is all well, Your Highness?" asks Feng Xin. Xie Lian knows he is asking him, but chooses to
deliberately ignore the question, letting his son answer instead.
"I am now" he replies. Xie Lian finishes settling inside the palanquin and watches his son's
actions; Mu Qing hands him a short sword, just as Xie Lian asked, which he ties to his belt
with a double knot to prevent him from disengaging.
With his heart in his fist, Xie Lian watches proudly as his son bows in deep reverence to the
military officers awaiting orders to proceed to Mountain Yu Jun, thanking them for the job
they are about to do, and telling them how much it means to him. He also hears apologies;
Xie Meihua apologises in advance in case anyone gets hurt and promises to tend to their
wounds personally. He also pleads that, even if they have an important mission to take care
of, none of them feel any obligation or duty to put their lives at risk. If they have the chance
to flee in the face of greater danger, they should not feel ashamed to do so. Their lives are
important, and he wants to prevent anything from happening to them.
Xie Lian feels almost in his own blood how his little God slowly gains the devotion of new
followers without even trying. He is natural.
"Your Highness" says Feng Xin's voice to his right. Xie Lian turns, moving the red curtains to
see him. Nan Feng's form barely conceals the face Xie Lian had known, the one that had
accompanied him so long ago. "You did a good job raising him. Xie Meihua is... exceptional.
A good leader, a kind person, a humble young man. He will become a magnificently
worshipped God in all circumstances."
"He will" agreed Xie Lian. "Thank you, Feng Xin."
Feng Xin replies no more than a low nod. Xie Lian returns to take refuge in the red curtains
just in time for the martial officers to settle in to carry the palanquin steadily. To his right, Mu
Qing and Feng Xin settle in, rather irritable at being put together, but to his left, Xie Meihua
companion him with his head held high and one hand on the sword at his waist.
Xie Lian is not someone who is exceptionally good at the arts and perhaps as bad at them as
his son is at calligraphy (why deny it or avoid thinking about it) but he is sure that his little
baobei, at that exact moment as it is, would look wonderful in a statue to be worshipped.
He will save whatever it takes to pay an exceptionally good craftsman for his statue, a statue
depicting his favourite God as he is seeing him at that instant: Xie Meihua, the God Who
Protects the Common People.
Chapter End Notes
In the night I will upload the second part with the outcome! Honestly I was planning to
upload it all together, but, I thought it was too long! So here I'm splitting the chapter so
that the correction won't be difficult for me u_u
FENG XIN IS A PROUD UNCLE OF THE BOY, AREN'T YOU?
Our bear dada Xie Lian is already planning the best way to worship his little son with
his own temples and statues, they are going to need a talented artist able to portray his
little Meihua! *wink wink*
See you in the night! Thank you very much for reading as always!
Meeting the ghost groom, part two
Chapter Summary
Xie Lian has his (not) first meeting with the ghost groom.
Chapter Notes
SECOND PART OF THE CHAPTER, HERE WE GO
My decision to split it up was purely because the previous one and this one had different
vibes (my synaesthesia acts weird ok), so thanks so much for reading as always!
The night pours over them. It is a rough caress that brings fear closer, dragging it across the
skin. Xie Lian barely staggers with the strength that the military officers hold the palanquin,
and apart from some sparse banter with Feng Xin and Mu Qing to lighten the mood and
loosen the tension from Xie Meihua's shoulders, the silence only dies for their footsteps
through the forest.
"How is the bride?" his son suddenly asks. Xie Lian leans into his side, smiling softly. He
hasn't stopped smiling.
"Perfectly" replies Xie Lian. "This bride is very excited to meet his groom. It's been a long
time, after all."
Feng Xin makes a little questioning noise. Xie Lian explains: "I am a bride to be reunited
with an old lover, whom he is now going to marry after much waiting. I can't believe you
didn't pay attention to the story, Nan Feng. I am disappointed in you."
"Your Highness, with all due respect..." begins Feng Xin, probably about to say something
that had no respect whatsoever, but his son interrupts him.
"Nan Feng" he says, and his voice is so strangled that suddenly all mockery vanishes from
Xie Lian's face. He is about to rush to drag his son into the palanquin and nurse him, but Nan
Feng is suddenly at his side.
"What's wrong Your Highness?" he asks. Xie Lian bites the inside of his cheek so hard he's
sure he's causing an injury.
The wedding procession continues, albeit with slightly slower steps, trying to keep up with
Xie Meihua.
"I don't know" he replies after a moment. His voice doesn't sound too bad, and Xie Lian
barely relaxes in his seat, smiling in relief. "It feels like... It feels... Strange."
"Do you feel something weird, Your Highness?" asks Feng Xin, turning his head in his
direction, now to know that he is asking Xie Lian. Xie Lian denies.
"Nothing yet" he replies softly. "Baobei, don't you want to join me in the palanquin? This
bride is perhaps a little nervous."
His son's hand slips inside, and Xie Lian gives it an affectionate squeeze.
"I bet the groom will take it badly if the bride comes to him smelling like someone else, even
if it's his family. We don't want the groom to be angry" his son replies, withdrawing his hand
from inside the palanquin, and from the tone he is using, Xie Lian understands that he is
using all his courage to formulate the words and not throw himself at Xie Lian's shelter.
His son makes him proud with every action, be it the smallest or the most selfless, and even if
he wants to protect him, Xie Lian accepts it.
"This companion is right" Xie Lian accepts.
There is silence again. Feng Xin stands by Xie Meihua's side, and they slowly resume their
normal pace. Xie Lian sighs and smiles, slightly relieved. Whatever was to come, he knows
that Xie Meihua will be safe, protected and cared for by Feng Xin and Mu Qing.
That fills his heart with absolute relief.
Yu Jun Mountain envelops them, trapping them among thick trees, darkness and the rustle of
branches swaying in the wind. And, so suddenly that Xie Lian thinks he might have imagined
it, he hears a small laugh close to his ear.
Then another. Then another.
"Nan Feng, Fu Yao" he warns in a low voice.
"What's going on?"
"Something is approaching."
The laughter sounds strange. Some, so close that Xie Lian thinks they might be at his feet.
Others, so distant and far away that Xie Lian fears a child is indeed lost deep in the forest.
But they hush and fade with a terror that would push any mortal's bones to freeze.
"I don't hear anything" says Nan Feng.
"Neither do I" confirms Fu Yao.

Silently, his back so tense he could almost tear his robes, Xie Meihua shakes his head.
"In that case, I think only I can hear it" Xie Lian hums almost to himself. "Carry on as if
nothing has happened, please. I'll fill you in."
The procession moves on. There is no hesitation in anyone, not even in Xie Lian's smile as he
hears the first voice crooning close to his ear, then far away, then so close to the curtains that
he thinks he might pull them aside and find a little one.
"It's singing" he reports.
"What is it?" asks his son. Xie Lian pauses for a moment, considering whether to repeat word
for word. If the situation were otherwise, he might. But his son was terrified enough without
adding the factor of a child chillingly singing.
So, he just pays attention to the lyrics in silence, until he gets the meaning of the song.
"It's a warning" replies Xie Lian. "It's telling the new bride in the palanquin chair that she
must only cry, and that she must not smile."
The silence is so heavy that every rustle around them screams.
"There is something I must tell you" says Xie Lian, and continues before anyone can be too
frightened. "I haven't stopped smiling since the procession began."
And how could he not smile? His pride was walking to his left, his head held high, his fears
crawling in his boots, facing the unthinkable just because he wanted to end Heaven's debt
once and for all so he could continue to travel with his silly old father. How could he not be
proud of his son? How could he not smile?
A muffled squeal is all Xie Lian can hear before the palanquin sinks hard sending him
bouncing inside.
"Nobody panic!" commands Feng Xin's voice.
"What's going on?" asks Xie Lian, completely restraining himself from sticking his head out
through the curtain.
"Wolves" replies his son's voice.
"I've never heard of wolves on Mountain Yu Jun before" says one of the military officers
quickly. "This shouldn't be happening."
With a heavy feeling in the pit of his stomach, Xie Lian says: "Apparently we've come to the
right place."
Xie Lian watches through the veil as both Feng Xin and Mu Qing draw their swords. As if
trying to imitate them, Xie Meihua draws his own sword, much shorter and with a sharp and
fierce double blade.
And then his son gasps in astonishment.
"What is that?" he asks, in complete horror. Xie Lian's first instinct is to lean out to see and
protect his son, but the whole palanquin lurches to one side.
"Your Highness, stay behind me!" is saying Feng Xin; the sound of swords cuts through the
wind, harsh guttural sounds scraping the air and when Xie Lian wants to notice there is a
humanoid, decaying figure emerging, trying to climb inside the palanquin. Xie Lian kicks it
so hard that the creature falls and staggers the palanquin with its crawl.
Base slaves.
Oh, gods. If it was bad with the wolves, it's about to get even worse.
"How many are there?" he asks. Mu Qing doesn't delay in answering, even with the noise of
the fight advancing closer to the palanquin.
"It's over a hundred of these fucking things! I fucking hate them!"
Over a hundred. Xie Lian gulps.
"Xie Meihua" Xie Lian's voice, even despite the terror that grips him at exposing his son at
risk, is utterly confident and firm. His son looks towards the curtain, and Xie Lian can see
him trembling. It's not fair, but he must make him go: "Use Ruoye. Make way. You have to
get out of here."
"I'm not leaving you!" hisses his son quickly.
"Meihua" Xie Lian puts as much command into his voice as he can; his heart breaks a little at
the sight of Xie Meihua's hopeless expression, and even if all he wants to do is hug and
protect him, he knows that Mu Qing and Feng Xin will take care of that for this time. "Use
Ruoye and go down the way, take the officers and Nan Feng and Fu Yao with you. You can
do it. And I can defend myself if anything happens; if you stay here, if they stay here, they'll
keep coming one after another and the fighting will be endless. The ghost groom will never
come."
His son seems to hesitate just a heartbeat before squaring his shoulders and nodding. He lifts
his hand until his wrist is almost over his mouth, where Xie Lian left Ruoye, and extends it
forward just a little. Even over the heavy breaths, the footsteps of base slaves and the howls
of wolves, his son's whisper is lethal:
"Kill them."
Ruoye moves, nimble and graceful, a white snake piercing the night. Soon, the sound of the
base slaves falling to a violent death mutes the horrified gasps. The sounds of fighting stop
for a moment, only hectic breathing and questions that Xie Lian ignores. He knows they don't
have much time.
"Go away" he orders. He can't look away from his son's horrified eyes, nor from the way
even the sword seems to tremble in his grip. "Nan Feng, Fu Yao, guide Xie Meihua. If
everyone surrounds the chair, the base slaves will not stop coming. They come in crowds so,
if they advance, they will follow."
"But, Your Highness..."
"I'm going to meet the ghost groom on my own" and Xie Lian's voice admits no retort. "Take
care of Xie Meihua."
"A-die" and his son's voice echoes, even if it's a whisper. His hand returns to the palanquin,
but now, Ruoye slips regaining his place on Xie Lian's wrist. "You're going to need it."
"Thank you" he says, and gives his another gentle squeeze, wishing he could tell her so many
things. He wishes he could tell him that everything will be okay. That they're going to protect
him. That he'll be safe. But at the same time, he doesn't have time for anything but squeezing
his hand tightly and wishing that would be enough. "Go."
Xie Meihua hesitates before doing so. When he does, he runs to catch up on the road with
Feng Xin and Mu Qing guide him one on either side, his sword firmly held, but clean. His
companions have not let any beasts come close enough for Xie Meihua to have to use it.
Xie Lian closes his eyes only to force himself to let him go.
"Ruoye" he says, raising his hand slightly "kill all."
Ruoye obeys. Bodies fall in a heavy symphony of pain and are silenced as his spirit weapon
returns to his hand. The sounds of the fight linger in distant silence, growing further and
further away until all he can hear is the rustling of the wind through the trees.
The only thing that manages to break the new silence is a light laugh.
It sounds like that of a young man, Xie Lian notes, fully alert. Is it the Ghost Groom? Is he
looking for the companions to leave or perish so he can claim the bride with his own hands?
Xie Lian feels a shiver, and Ruoye, on his wrist, tensely prepares for the attack.
If the Ghost Groom had the slightest intention of harming him, Ruoye would attack.
Xie Lian is a taut rope ready to defend against any attack. However, when the palanquin
repositions itself, isn’t an attack that Xie Lian receives.
Inch by inch, the red curtain of the palanquin slides aside. With bated breath, alert, Xie Lian
watches a sleek white hand reach out to him, offering it to him. With it, the wind brings
scents other than death and evil: the smell coming from the man is almost... familiar.
The hand is elegant, long-fingered, slender and pale. Like a ring, his ring finger is decorated
by a red thread with a delicate butterfly knot.
Xie Lian doesn't hesitate for a second when he takes the hand.
The scent of flowers is as familiar as if he has known it all his life. And, in a way, he does.
Hasn't he been haunted by a similar scent of wild flowers in all the most extreme situations of
his life? Hasn't he found himself drenched in flowers in one way or another, as if his fate was
tied to them?
Didn't the little boy full of bandages he saved in the Xianle Parade smell of panic-scented
flowers? Didn't Wu Ming smell of determined and devoted flowers in his arms?
Didn't Meihua's father smell of wild flowers? Didn't he smell of flowers when the man kissed
his neck, biting the skin there, painting it with red petals that Xie Lian mourned his loss for
months after he saw him for the first and last time?
His memory is good, yet it is long and hazy. Eight hundred years of immortal life brings
strange sensations with the memories; for an instant, as Xie Lian slips outside, her head
pushes and mixes all the smells as if they were one.
That the Ghost Groom smells like flowers only bodes well for Xie Lian.
He staggers out of the palanquin. The Ghost Groom is gentle and catches him carefully.
There is gentleness in his hands; the kindness he lavishes is exorbitant, and even if it is just
holding his hand as if it were something delicate and precious, Xie Lian feels his heart create
its own orchestra of deafening beats.
The smell catches him, envelops him and makes him dance in a spiral of chaotic memories,
memories that dance and sway lulled by the temperance that suddenly envelops him. There is
no chaotic scared heartbeat. There is no fear. There is no terror.
They move forward.
The Ghost Groom guide him, and with every step he takes, Xie Lian is sure that he is not
with the ghost groom. His theories are gradually confirmed; the skull disintegrates like dust
under his feet, the wolves howl in fright, moving away and clearing the path. The sudden rain
above them smells of blood, but he is already covering them with an umbrella until the
journey is over.
The moon, high in the sky, bathes the forest in silver and paints the mountains with a spectral
halo. In the distance, the animal howls resound, drifting away and becoming mute in the
forest with the shadow of a more than spectral pain that drags them to their death.
In front of him, the ghost groom holds the edge of his veil. Xie Lian feels no fear;
inexplicable calm sways in his consciousness as the white hand slowly uncovers his face.
Then Ruoye moves, lunging at him. Xie Lian doesn’t understand whether his spirit weapon
reacted to his longing, or to his desperation to hold the flower-scented ghost groom close, but
the young man's reaction is immediate. The veil is torn away by a fierce movement and all
Xie Lian can see for a moment before the wind blows him away into hundreds of silver
butterflies identical to the embroidery on his dress, is a red clad blur of long black hair
fluttering under the moon.
Chapter End Notes

XL: A boy who smelled of flowers, Wu Ming smelled of flowers, the Alpha smelled of
flowers, and now this ghost groom also smells of flowers.... *gasp* What strange
coincidences life has!
I didn't really specify what Meihua smells like, but I think his scent is a mix between
plums and honeysuckle, a bit milder than an average alpha, but a bit sour
What are your headcanons of character smells? I'm curious about that!
Again, as always, thank you very much for reading and for commenting! You make my
days happier! See you in the next chapter hun! <3
A God who doesn’t protect is not a good God
Chapter Summary
Xie Meihua loses control. Fu Yao and Nan Feng see glimpses of something they
recognise very well in the child under their protection.
Chapter Notes
Thank you very much for reading and for all the comments! Thank you! They make my
days happy and beautiful
I'm not supposed to have favourites, but THIS is one of my favourite chapters I've
written so far
Trigger warnings for the chapter: onset of panic attack, mild dissociation, brief
depersonalisation. If any of these topics trigger you, please be careful! For more details,
see endnotes!
Xie Meihua is terrified.
If he felt fear before, at some point in his life, it is now a pathetic, childish shadow of what he
feels at that very moment. He must force his body voluntarily to move with every step,
feeling clumsy, small and wanting to run away.
But no one runs away.
Military officers and divine officers join forces and the beasts fall, yet the more they fall, the
closer they come. They emerge from the earth like sprouts of rice, three emerge after each
fallen one. The base slaves are easy to kill even though they are larger in number, yet the
wolves put up more of a fight. Nan Feng fends them off with pulses of spiritual energy but,
with each one, Xie Meihua feels his head snap back in sharp pain.
The pain he has begun to feel since the moment they entered the forest has only increased. It
is a dull ache that clatters against his forehead, behind his eyes and in the crook of his neck,
making him dizzy. It's a pain that makes him feel stupidly weak like never before.
'Enough' he wants to say. 'Stand down. We have to leave. We have to run away’. But no
cowardly command springs from him; they have come so far, faced so much, put themselves
so much at risk. If he acted cowardly only motivated by his own terror he would never
forgive himself.
He wants to scream. This should not be happening. He shouldn't be there. He should not have
ascended. If anyone deserved ascension it was his father, not him. It's not fair.
It's not fair. He doesn't want this. He doesn't want the responsibility, he doesn't want to face
the terror, he doesn't want to be fighting, he doesn't want the pain. He doesn't want it, it's not
fair, it's not fair, it's not fair, it's not fair, it's not fair, it's not fair, it's not fair, it's not fair, it's
not fair, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts,
HURT!
"YOUR HIGHNESS, BEWARE!"
The shout takes him by surprise. Xie Meihua swings his sword almost mechanically, and the
blade slices cleanly through the side of a base slave collapsing next to him. Xie Meihua
trembles, his world crumbling, his heart absolutely wanting to kill him. Pain spreads in pulses
with each heartbeat that pushes against his ribs.
"Your Highness, don’t be distracted!"
"Your Highness, move forward!"
"Your Highness, pay attention to the way!"
"Your Highness...!"
The voices come and go, drifting away and coming closer to his consciousness. Xie Meihua
takes in gasps of air that don't seem to mean anything because his lungs keep burning as if he
can't get enough air. The sword trembles so much in his pulse that he knows he is more likely
to cut himself than strike a killing blow against a beast.
If he ascended, it's definitely not because he's a Martial God.
A God of the Cowardly? Of the Fearful? A God of the Pathetically Unstable Incapable of
Wielding a real sword?
Would the Heavens have an explanation for his ascension rather than torture? Taking him
away from his father and putting him at risk, exposing him to pain, forcing his father to
expose himself to danger and seeing him in danger. Did anyone in the Heavens even know
how much his ascension would make his father suffer by putting him at risk over and over
again, and that was why he had done it?
"Your Highness...!" the voice of either officer sounds too far away and too close at the same
time, as if his head is in deep water distorting all the sounds around him. The grunts are too
close and too far away, the shapes pile meaninglessly in front of him.
Xie Meihua doesn't understand what his eyes see, blurs of blood, creatures, trees, sky and
destruction are interspersed in an uneven, chaotic feeling, appearing and disappearing with
faded smears and a complete disconnection from what is real. Is he awake? Is he even alive?
His head throbs, throbbing with every movement, and his whole body burns.
He is on the verge of falling apart.
"Your Highness?"
He is not Your Highness.
He is… Just a child.
It hurts, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts. IT HURTS.
And something breaks.
"ENOUGH!" he shouts. The sword comes loose from his hands as he falls. He can feel his
knees knock against the wet ground, and beyond, the growl of a beast too close to him. He
can almost feel its fetid breath of death pushing against his face. His mind doesn't seem to
comprehend what his eyes are seeing, and even if the wolf is an inch away, Xie Meihua just
wants to hide. "I said ENOUGH!"
The shout that escapes from his mouth freezes everything around him.
It's not as if time has stopped. Xie Meihua understands because his heart is pounding so
desperately that it seems to want to burst out of his body and flee as far as he can to safety,
and his hectic breathing competes in speed against the tears streaming down his face.
What stops are the beasts.
The wolf closest to his face takes a step back, ducking its head submissively.
"ENOUGH!" he shouts again; it feels as if every time he shouts something is released from
within him, something imprisoned by the layers and layers of divinity eating away at him.
His fists dig into the earth.
His skin burns. It stings. It burns. It's the itch he hasn't been able to scratch, the absolutely
weird thing that burns beneath the foul surface of divinity on his skin. How is he supposed to
do anything with all the divine power burning him from the inside and out? He is burning.
How is he supposed to be able to move freely within his own limited power now that divinity
is blocking what he had cultivated for himself?
But why would divinity block his meridians, if divinity itself must nourish them? Why...?
The question slips out with another scream, wordless this time, as the pain in his head
explodes into multiple shocks. There are white flashes all over his vision as he screams, the
pain suffocating him so much that he needs it to just come out.
Then, as if mimicking him, a wolf howls.

In the distance, he can almost feel one of the two Martial Gods in disguise say something that
sounds like a vague: "What the fuck...?"
And the wolf's howl turns into a whimper of pain.
Xie Meihua's scream stops as the strength leaves him. Pain pushes against his hands,
trembling, and for an instant, it feels as if the skin on his palms will burst. He is even able to
see silver glints fluttering beneath his own skin. Exactly the same silver sparkles that, like
tiny specks of light, tiny fatuous fires, dance in the air around him.
Then he understands. Suddenly, his brain returns to self-awareness, and he recognises himself
kneeling on the blood-damp earth, his hands full of beasts' blood, and he understands.
The yin energy in his body is too much.
All his life he has had too much. In the past, it would flow through his meridians calmly like
a still river, and compete with the warmth of his father's yin energy far less evident by the
Cursed Shackles; even if they were both men, his father had a warm yin energy in his being
given his Omega nature.
Xie Meihua had been born a man, an Alpha, and with a powerful yin energy that had never
been an impediment to anything in his life. Long ago, his father had remarked to a stranger
with many questions that it was probably because his other father was a demonic cultivator of
yin energy, but with the new information settling into his being, Xie Meihua understands.
He is half ghost, after all.
It makes blatant sense that now divinity with a sordid yan energy is shattering his sanity and
basic coherence when he finds himself in the most ghostly energy-ridden forest he has ever
been in, with an equally powerful yin energy inside him, and divinity locking him into chaos.
The divine yan energy is powerful, but instinctive. It seeks to act against the enemy around it
the more it is immersed in the chaotic set of energies within the forest, when the enemy is
within it.
He cannot use his yin energy as before. He cannot move. He cannot access it. He cannot
stabilise it.
He can only let it out away from him.
He sinks his hands into the earth and does so.
The eyelash-sized stars around him seem to whirl in whirlwinds, burst and emerge like
sparks. They spring from the earth, from its robes, from its tears. The yin energy melts in
agony: he feels it crawl under his skin and leave him, and the loss hurts.
The tiny flickers of light shine like tiny stars the size of a speck of dust. Their sparkle is
iridescent at the edges, shrouded in silver glitter almost like a magical halo. He is surrounded
by the starry night, bowed down in front of a wolf that submissively ducks its head, and as
soon as the pain of ripping the yin energy from within him fades the tiny stars swoop down.
The first wolf falls with a crushing sound, as if its bones are melting together; the whimper
from its mouth becomes guttural before it dies. The second does so with a piercing howl as
its bones shatter into wet clicks that Xie Meihua will hear in his nightmares.
He doesn't keep count at all after the fourth one falls: wild animals fall and base slaves
collapse into broken pieces of what might once have been bone, skin, or humanity, now being
little more than misshapen rot. The stars explode, collapse, the glow fades after each drop of
blood spilled until darkness envelops them.
The only glow left is that of the moon in the sky.
Xie Meihua retrieves his sword, soaked in blood no matter where he touches it now, and
stands up from the ground even if he feels his legs might give out. There is a slight tremor
but, as he staggers frail, Nan Feng's arms hold him firmly. His hands seem to burn through
the thin robes wrapped around his arms, or maybe it's just that his skin is too cold.
It has always been too cold. Now, he feels that there is no warmth anywhere in his being.
Xie Meihua opens his mouth and, instead of a scream, a single question hoarse from the wear
and tear on his throat bursts from him: "Is anyone hurt?"
It is barely louder than a whisper. Yet it is easy to hear in the new silence of the forest. Xie
Meihua is sure that, if he concentrates hard enough, he can hear the hearts of both officers in
a frantic state of panic.
"No, no, no, no" several voices reply. Xie Meihua turns to the military officers. They still
have their weapons deployed; there are light scratches on some tunics, dented armour shaped
like teeth and very, very shocked faces.
There is fear in their eyes.
And, above the fear, admiration.
"Nan Feng? Fu Yao?" he asks. They both move closer if they can, holding him. Fu Yao's
hands hold him by the other arm, one hand against his back holding him firmly making sure
he doesn't fall. Nan Feng's hand is a little lower on his back, and is stronger though it holds
him carefully. His legs are not yet fully connected to his brain so inwardly he is thankful for
that. "Are they hurt?"
"Your Highness, you don't have to worry about..." begins Fu Yao, his expression too alarmed
to be a good thing.
"Hurt?" asks Xie Meihua again. His tone is almost urgent.
Nan Feng answers now. His countenance is serious: "No, Xie Meihua. No one is seriously
injured. You have done a good job."
"Oh" Xie Meihua opens his mouth, unable to know what else to utter. His body feels too
light, too volatile. The yin energy had always been inside him, and now that he'd plucked it
out and allowed it to act accordingly to what he needed, the power of divinity enveloping him
all over feels like an uncomfortable robe that doesn't fit him properly. It fits him wrong,
wrapping around him like a steamed bun and chafing him at the seams, too hot and too stiff.
"That's... That's very good" is all he can say just before he vanishes between two pairs of
arms that embrace him tightly.
Every military officer present seems willing to share with anyone who will listen the tale of
the God Surrounded by Stars, who, with one piercing cry defeated a pack of wild wolves
commanded by a mighty ghost, and whose only concern a moment before passing out from
exhaustion after the hard fight to save them all was to ensure their safety.
A God who doesn’t protect is not a good God.
Chapter End Notes
About the trigger warning: Meihua has a panic attack that leads him to briefly dissociate
much of the way (the panic attack is mentioned with shortness of breath, despair, terror
and inability to move properly). He presents a great depersonalisation with himself until
he clings to the reality around him, recognising what it is that has him in such a state and
how to solve it. I decided to detail this in case it is a problem for anyone! <3
FX and MQ: *after seeing a bunch of silver glows coming out of Meihua and attacking
the beasts* you know what Your Highness, we really need to have a conversation about
what you consider WEAK in a ghost
If our heavenly officials ever had a LITTLE doubt about anything, I think we can
already take it for granted that THEY KNOW. I mean, black hair, shitty humour,
preference for red... I'd have my doubts too if I'd ever seen Hua Cheng around lmao
OUR MEIHUA IS TOO WEAK TO CREATE HIS OWN BUTTERFLIES, BUT HE
CAN CREATE KILLER GLITTER
Thanks for reading sweetie! See you in the next chapter! <3
The Ghost Bride
Chapter Summary
Xie Meihua has a discovery about the ghost groom. A fight breaks out.
Chapter Notes
THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING, AS ALWAYS, THANK YOU SO MUCH

This chapter was not intended to be that long, BUT I had an act of love and decided to
merge the two chapters I had split up
I will be responding to all comments, I promise! I'm only updating now because I have
to go pay for some adult life stuff, but I'll respond as soon as I get back!
"Baobei?"
The voice sounds so far away. Xie Meihua feels himself floating in a blackened world, his
lungs full of water and his brain full of air. Floats, sinks, floats, sinks. He cannot swim. He
doesn't know if he wants to either.
"Ah, Fe- Nan Feng" the voice sounds a little closer this time. And, a moment later, his head
fills with coherence and blurry spots behind his closed eyes. His lungs empty, fill with air
with an abrupt, sharp inhalation.
There is a strange warmth spreading through his chest; it creeps, rises, twists and collapses in
his meridians, and when Xie Meihua opens his eyes the colours begin to take shape.
Nan Feng stands over him, one hand on his chest. There is a halo of light there, where he can
only guess that the God is pouring spiritual energy into him. To his right, holding him, the
perfectly made-up face of his father watches him with concern.
"A-die?" he speaks. His voice is a hoarse, raspy whine, but his father's smile is huge.
"You used up all your spiritual energy" he explains gently. "My little God has no altars and
no more devotees than his old father, so getting it back on your own was going to take time."
The borrowed Yan energy is uncomfortable in his body. It is too hot, too intrusive. It writhes
inside him like waves of thick, hot water. Xie Meihua feels abruptly out of his own skin, as if
everything in him is wrong.
"I don't know what happened" he confesses. His voice is barely a trickle.
Nan Feng does the talking. His eyes are elusive, though. There is tension in his jaw.
"You saved everyone. That happened."
The energy has just seeped out. His head stops feeling strange, stops burning, the pain fades
so slowly that Xie Meihua isn't sure it would ever have been there but for the memories. He
sits up, as strong as after a good night's rest, and as weak as if all his dreams had been
nightmares.
"Nan Feng" calls Fu Yao's voice, and the officer rises abruptly, following in step. Xie Meihua
wonders how common it is that, despite the rivalry, he responds to his voice by automatically
following in his footsteps. Breaking the silence are noises, voices, sounds far from the walls
that envelop them. Xie Meihua tries to locate himself.
"Where are we?" he asks. His father rubs reassuring circles on his back.
"Ming Guang Temple" Xie Lian explains. "Apparently, there was one at the top of Mount Yu
Jun. And it was full of the missing brides."
Xie Meihua doesn't have to be a fortune teller to understand the state of the brides.
"I don't want to see them" he asks. His father smiles kindly at him.
"I would never ask you" he explains. "However..."
The sounds rise. They are loud, people screaming, but they are far from being of terror. At
most, they are of triumph.
"What's going on?" asks Xie Meihua. Xie Lian sits up, helping him to his feet; his feet still
feel a little fragile and he can feel the dried blood of the creatures stiffen bits of his robes.
"The bounty seekers of the village" is Xie Lian's brief explanation. "They've been being such
a nuisance. They are shameless and meddlesome, and only think of money. They haven't a
shred of humanity in them."
"Horrible" agrees Xie Meihua, stepping forward to leave the first walls of the Ming Guang
Temple. The moment they emerge, not so far from the entrance, people emerge from the
forest, all of them completely drenched in blood.
The blood dripping from them is enough that, had it been theirs, it would be an obvious sign
that they were not alive. But by the way they move, scaring away the few villagers still there,
Xie Meihua knows they are alive. And, even if he wished they were, the blood does not
belong to them.
"The blood is not theirs" his father says as they approach, trying to calm the chaos. The men
repeat it, desperate, and Xie Lian steals a torch before approaching the forest. He throws it
into the skies.
It is barely an instant's glow from the fire before the torch falls, going out, but it is long
enough for the corpses hanging from the trees to be illuminated, completely disfigured to a
point where they can barely resemble the humans they once were. Blood drips from their
bodies like crimson rain.
"The Green Ghost" announces Nan Feng just a moment later. Xie Meihua makes a
questioning sound, not only of what the Green Ghost is supposed to be, but at what point the
man came so close to them.
"It's one of his favourite tricks" Fu Yao follows.
A brief explanation follows in which they explain about the Green Ghost being almost a
Devastation, categorised as Wrath but as if it could actually ascend to a higher (or lower?
level. Xie Meihua tries to understand - if Gods ascend upwards, ghosts ascend downwards?
Could it ascend downwards? Was there some kind of rule? Who administered them?).
"So, could it be the Green Ghost who guided me here?" asks Xie Lian.
Xie Meihua looks at him suddenly curious.
"What?" he asks. He seems to ask the question that the disguised Heavenly Officers beside
him want to ask.
"I thought it was the Ghost Groom, but it wasn't about him" Xie Lian explains calmly. "There
was a young man. He took my hand and guided me into the forest, even knocking down a
spirit array with a footstep. He scared away the beasts with a glance, too. I guessed at that
moment that it wasn't the Ghost Groom because the beasts didn't obey him, but were a little
terrified of him." Xie Lian explains everything as gently and kindly as he would, on a normal
day, explain to Xie Meihua his routine for the day. "Do you think the Green Ghost could be
him?"
"I've never seen him before" says Nan Feng, doubtful. "It's hard for me to confirm. Did the
young man have any special characteristics?"
His father doesn't even hesitate before answering: "Silver butterflies."
And he touches the edge of the embroidery Xie Meihua did on his wedding dress. Even
though he had seen the little silver butterfly twice, Xie Meihua had tried his best to recreate
the pattern as best he could with the quick stitches. He had done it more on a childish whim:
the little butterfly, in one way or another, had brought his father with him even if it was just a
coincidence. When he had decided to embroider it, he had done it more out of foolish
gratitude, and the idea that perhaps this little symbol that had reunited him with his father
would make it so that they would never be separated again.
He had no idea that it was something of a ghost.
"What kind of silver butterflies?" asks Fu Yao in an incredulous and urgent tone. Xie Lian
touches the edge of his embroidery again.
"Like these" he explains. "Silver, but they looked like they were made of translucent crystal.
They shone. They weren't alive, but… they were really beautiful."
Nan Feng and Fu Yao exchange a look so intense and airy that, if Xie Meihua thought it
possible, he would think they were speaking to each other's minds. Their faces pale to the
impossible and, for the first time, Xie Meihua can see real terror settle on them.
Then, Nan Feng looks at him. His pupils are fully dilated.
"Let's leave at once" says Fu Yao with an urgent tone. "We have to leave at once. Right now.
We have to get Your Highness out of here now."
"What?!" Xie Meihua raises his voice slightly, utterly astonished. "Why leave now, we
haven't settled this yet!"
Fu Yao's grim gaze is fixed on him.
"The Ghost Groom is nothing but Wrath. Any little God could take him down with very good
support" he explains, and his tone is so close to General Xuan Zhen's tone that Xie Meihua
feels a shudder as he reminds himself that, truly, he is. A Martial God, a Divine General, not
a subordinate he can challenge. "The Green Ghost, as responsible as he is for this forest full
of corpses, falls short of being a Devastation. Someone like him alone would cause us a
severe headache. However, the silver butterflies and his Master..."
There is something dangerous about them. If the mere mention of the silver butterflies and
their owner makes both Officers look pale as death, Xie Meihua doesn't understand how his
father is really alive and safe by his side. Was he really that scary?
"There is no time for explanations" Fu Yao says again. "We can't fight him. Nor will we.
Someone should go back to the skies to send some soldiers from the rescue squadron."
His father does the talking.
"You go."
Xie Meihua turns to look at his father; there is a deep frown on his face, an absolute
seriousness covering his words.
"The Master of the silver butterflies showed no malice towards me. If he really is that
powerful in his wickedness, escape will be impossible. Go find the rescue squad and return as
soon as you can."
Xie Lian didn't look angry; rather, worried. Xie Meihua sighs, discomfort settling at the base
of his stomach as Fu Yao leaves a bow later.
The unease continues when the village idiots catch a boy covered in bandages. It grows at the
same time as it intervenes in the unconscionable violence to the boy and the pleading girl.
The discomfort spreads as explanations mingle with pleas and erupts into a pulse of anger
when one of the brazen idiots continues to insist on handing over the child on a whim,
knocking him out with a sure blow. He may as well have broken his nose on a whim.
"You're supposed to have more self-control, baobei" hums Xie Lian. Xie Meihua winces
bitterly.
"I'm not going to apologise for that" he says. Nan Feng continues to ask the girl questions,
but Xie Lian suddenly seems curious about something and leans towards the girl.
"In the Mount Yu Jun region, apart from the temple here, have any other Ming Guang
Temples been built?"
"They were built" the girl explains. And she also explains how the temples were fiercely
burned down before it was completed, and they people decided to put Nan Yang temples in
their place.
Xie Lian and Xie Meihua look at each other with an understanding that abruptly threads all
the loose cavils into one place.
"I'll ask Ling Wen" says Xie Meihua. His father nods his head.
"Ask?" hesitates Nan Feng, totally at a loss.
Xie Meihua is used to sharing ideas and resolutions with his father. It has never cost them
before to come to the same conclusions, swift and accurate, and when burnt temples meet
brides who should not smile, there is but one simple resolution.
This is not about a Ghost Groom.
All along it has been about a Ghost Bride.
And, apparently, trying to hold a conversation with Ling Wen while being constantly attacked
by the corpses of poorly reanimated ghost brides is not as easy as Xie Meihua would have
thought.
"Ling Wen, Ling Wen, the all-knowing one!" repeats the password of the private spiritual
communication array. The Civil Goddess has an accurate and very modest password, Xie
Meihua thinks humorously. "Ling Wen, I have a question, it's something very important."
Ling Wen is hardly slow to reply: "What is it, Your Highness?"
"I know it's cheeky of me to ask" he begins, dodging and kicking a bride clinging to his
ankle. The kick launches her just barely wide, but the next one he delivers to her chest sends
her flying a little further, just far enough for his father to throw the veil covering her face
slowing her movements almost comically. "Ah, has General Ming Guang had any romance?"
"Your Highness" Ling Wen's voice is almost strangled, as if she is choking on something at
that very moment. "Why are you asking me this, is that some kind of personal curiosity?
Because I can assure you that old Pei..."
"For the mission, for the mission!" he repeats quickly, his face burning. A bride clings to his
father's leg, and Xie Meihua watches as Xie Lian kicks her extremely hard in the shoulder,
flipping her over and covering her face again with the veil. "There are about ten corpses of
brides trying to kill me right now, Ling Wen, please? I know it's a bit of a difficult question to
answer publicly and to divulge such things just like that, that's exactly why I didn't want to..."
"Your Highness" Ling Wen's voice is almost amused now. "You are very innocent. Old
General Pei has had an exorbitant amount of romances, and when you asked so suddenly, I
thought you meant that..."
Xie Meihua stumbles, dodging another blow. He holds his sword close to his body and when
a bride lunges towards him, Xie Meihua deploys the shorter sword in a single forward
motion, willingly moving closer to his attacker only to impact a more accurate blow. The
bride shrieks shrilly as his arm flies away, and when she comes an inch closer, Xie Meihua
thrusts the veil in her face, knocking her away.
His breathing is agitated. His father, back to back, saying to him a congratulations that Xie
Meihua can barely understand as he tries to keep his stomach from twisting over what he's
just done.
"So" he tries to spin his thoughts into something coherent instead of a cloud of wild ideas.
"Has General Ming Guang had any romance with a woman who were very possessive, prone
to jealousy, and probably disabled?"
Xie Meihua had no idea of the disability until exchanging words with his father. Xie Lian
kindly explained to him what had happened the first time he entered the temple, and when the
ghost bride was probably able to sneak away by hiding the same way Xie Lian had.
"Actually, I think of someone of that description" Ling Wen says, and begins to speak. She
narrates about General Pei Ming's time before his ascension, about how he began a torrid and
chaotic romance with an enemy general named Xuan Ji, and about how their romance was
heroic and beautiful... until General Xuan Ji demanded exclusivity. She demanded to belong
to General Pei Ming, to be his, and for him to belong to her.
General Pei Ming refused, taking woman one after another at will after cutting off his affair
with the General. And Xuan Ji went insane. She broke her own legs trying to prove to the
General that she could also be weak and submissive for him, sacrificing herself and her
position as General and martial artist, betraying her country and shedding all that had
belonged to her for a love that would never be returned, giving her life for hatred and
resentment, giving herself to a blinded obsession.
It was tragic, and sad.
"Thank you so much for all the information, Ling Wen" Xie Meihua thanks, taking a deep
breath as he is able to give himself a relieved breath from the repeated attacks of the brides,
now perfectly restrained by the veils. "Because just now my father and I are about to meet
her."
And, as if summoned, with the rattle of his knees dragging his heavy legs of broken bones,
Xuan Ji appears. She is dressed as a bride, but the baleful sadness that envelops her is so
heavy that, were he not terrified, Xie Meihua would feel pity.
The eighteenth bride they had not yet confronted: the Ghost Bride.
"Xuan Ji" says Xie Meihua. The name sounds hollow in his mouth.
"He sent you to find me?" she asks. Xie Meihua hesitates whether to answer, but she doesn't.
There is no hesitation in her mischievous look. "Where is he, why didn't he come to see me
himself?"
The cry that wells up inside her is a broken sense of despair. Xie Meihua steps back a few
paces, distancing himself from his father just enough so that, should Xuan Ji decide to attack
them, there is a range of movement between them and the mad ghost bride.
"Why don't you come to see me?" she cries. "My Pei, my beloved Pei, I betrayed my
kingdom for you! I gave up everything I was, I became this! I did it all for you! Why can't
you come see me?"
Chaos unfolds with one of the most idiotic idiots wanting to drag the bandaged boy away
from the circle of protection Ruoye had created, the same idiot whose nose Xie Meihua had
broken earlier. When Xuan Ji mercilessly kills him, Xie Meihua wonders if it's okay for him
to feel relief.
It shouldn't be. It is wrong. But his moral state is so ambiguous at times that he is not
surprised by this fact. He has never perceived himself as a good person.
"Are you afraid to come and see me?" she howls. They are desperate squawks from someone
who has nothing left to lose. "DO YOU FEEL GUILT? LOOK AT MY LEGS, LOOK AT
ME! WHERE IS YOUR HEART?"
Xie Meihua knows that his father is an extremely intelligent man. However, he doubts it
when his father opens his mouth to say: "Couldn't you have found a more normal way to see
him? If someone wanted to see me using methods like that, I wouldn't want to see them at
all."
Xie Meihua has no time to complain about his father's poor reasoning in the face of that
sentence. It happens in the blink of an eye.
Xuan Ji lunges towards Xie Lian, the same momentum of his swift ghostly movement
dragging him away, and both of Xuan Ji's hands wrap around his father's throat strangling
him tightly.
There are words Xie Meihua does not hear. The noise that climbs in his ears is almost as
lethal as the growl that climbs in his chest, escaping from between his teeth as he advances
blindly towards the bride, ready to plunge his sword into her. He barely manages to sink the
blade into her back, perhaps due to the madness of his fixation on choking his father in bridal
attire. But, as she barely feels the pain, the ghost bride raises her head and it only takes one
look for Xie Meihua to fly away.
He only needs one look to rip him off the ground and push him straight to a deadly fate.
Chapter End Notes
Obviously it's neither the time nor the place to talk about HC when they both KNOW he
has to be Meihua's father, but they also know that XL doesn't know him at all lmao So....
welcome to: how furious XL can get if his little boy is hurt
Calamity? What is it? XL is worse
Many thanks to everyone for reading! See you in the next chapter my sweeties <3
Butterflies
Chapter Summary
Xie Meihua is hurting and cannot use the yan energy in his body to heal himself. Hisyin
energy can do so, however....
Chapter Notes
Thank you so much for all the comments, kudos, bookmarks and all the reads, I'm so
grateful I have no words. It's been a weird few days but only you (and Roommie) have
made me feel a bit worth it!!!
I also remind you that I'm daily on twitter (@xiao_beihua) retweeting beautiful Hualian
art and uploading ideas for fics that I'll probably write one day!!
The weightlessness pushes his body. Xie Meihua feel as if he are actually flying. There is
nothing but air buzzing in his ears and everything feels too light, shallow and ethereal. In the
clear sky the stars radiate a glimmer that slowly tarnishes as he falls.
The fall brings pain; the pain in the forest is a shadow of what he can really feel when it
comes to pain. It burns all over, burning, crawling across his skin and blurring his eyes. The
stars flicker and blur as tears well up against him will, if there is any will left in his body. His
head feels as if it has just exploded.
He can feel the dripping of his own blood and its metallic scent crossing his senses, dazing
him completely.
"RUOYE!"
In the distance he is able to hear Xie Lian's voice. The sounds are heartbreaking; there is a
fierce scream that shatters his eardrums, high-pitched and riddled with suffering. He can see
nothing but starry skies flickering through his tears, but the smell of tearing flesh fills his
senses, blood falling and bones breaking under Ruoye's force.
There are no more screams than the last that Xuan Ji lets flow, probably before his father rips
the General's head from her neck.
And the skies are blocked. No more stars or dark sky twinkling. Two gentle hands wipe the
tears from his face, turning his body carefully, helping him to settle. There is so much pain
crossing his every thought that Xie Meihua is slow to recognise that the face above of him is
that of his father.
"A-die" he whispers. His father has dark blood stains on his face ruining the make-up that,
even despite the fight, had remained flawless.
"Baobei" his father cooed gently. "Take a deep breath. You will be fine. You have enough
spiritual energy to heal from this."
He doesn't, though.
Xie Meihua knows that the spiritual energy Nan Feng poured into him woke up him enough.
However, it did so because Nan Feng was moving it. Nan Feng's intention in pouring the
spiritual energy into him was to heal him and, therefore, the energy obeyed him and moved
through his body, healing him. It had healed his sore throat and his tense body, torn by wear
and tear, reanimating his mind and his coherence.
But now he can't move it.
He feels as if he wants to push a mountain with his arms. He knows the energy is there, it
runs across his skin like a shiver, it churns frantically, but he has no idea how to take power
over it. The yan energy scurries chaotically through his fingers, pushing at his meridians,
trying to do something, but Xie Meihua can't manipulate it. He can't make it heal the pain, he
can't make the tears that keep falling vanish.
"A-die" he whispers "I can't, I can't, I can't, I can't..."
"You will heal" his father keeps saying, as if at that moment he is trying to convince himself.
Xie Meihua doesn't know if he really wants to reassure him or reassure himself. "You will
heal."
Chimes of bells shatter the air. The Heavens open and reinforcements arrive.
Xie Lian does not leave his side. Xie Meihua feels the blood still gushing from his head but
he cannot feel the spiritual energy at work. He does not feel healing. Many times in his life,
before all that, before he ascended, his own stubbornly and painstakingly cultivated energy
had healed him of any wound: even when he fought that Alpha man who thought it was right
to beat his children and his sword blade opened a fairly deep cut in his leg, his spiritual
energy flowed out, healing him in a matter of hours. The next day there wasn't even a scar.
Why not now? Xie Meihua knows it's because of divinity. He doesn't deserve to be a god,
does he? He hasn't done enough. He hasn't done enough for his father. He hasn't done enough
to help him, he hasn't done enough for them to have a nice house, a safe home, he couldn't do
it....
Divinity is a torture that Xie Meihua wants to rip off, and his energy is pathetic, pushing at
his meridians blocking them from the only energy that has ever been able to help him.
Yin energy is not normal in men or in Alphas. It is fickle, erratic, and peculiar to the aspects
associated with women and Omegas, peculiar to the instability of creatures of the abyss,
ghosts and beasts.
Now, his wounds do not heal. The edges of his father's face begin to blur.
"FU YAO!" he hears his father shout. His voice is distant even if he is holding him in his
arms. He feels the blood drip from between his hair; it slides in thick drops that caress his
head completely sending shivers down his spine. "He's not healing."
There is movement all around him. Flashes from officers' armour, words; Nan Feng has a
recognisable voice explaining what has happened, and a General who introduces himself as
General Pei finally comes to take charge of the remains of the battle. Xie Meihua doesn't
understand Xuan Ji's lack of response until he turns his head, just a little; it's hard to see
through the haze that pushes his consciousness to fade, but all his angle of vision can pick up
is the short sword he has once held firmly buried in a rounded lump far from a body.
His father can be ruthless, he thinks. His eyes narrow.
"Baobei" his father's tone is urgent. "Don't close your eyes. Stay with me. Stay with me. Stay
with me, please, please."
A gush of energy flows through his meridians. Xie Meihua takes a deep breath of air, his
lungs burning as he finally feels energy flowing. It's not stupid yan energy blocking and
overriding him, it's energy flowing to him, energy coming from himself; his own yin energy
is created with his father's devotion. The energy slides roughly, cruelly against the divine
energy, and pushes against the bones of his neck. With small burning clicks, Xie Meihua
finds that he can suddenly straighten his head on his own. His neck is probably mending
itself.
"Now it is" says Fu Yao, approaching him. Everything but his father is a blur, even so, fading
at the corners and edges, colours fading and blending. There are no explanations. "I'll call a
healer. This is not normal. With the amount of spiritual energy he has he should be healthy by
now."
Xie Meihua's head tilts just slightly and a burst of pain hits him. As distant as it is close, he
can hear a scream.
Maybe the scream is his.
"What's wrong?" his father keeps asking. His hands are gentle; he cradles his face carefully,
wipes away his tears, soaks the edges of his robe with the blood running down his mouth
trying to stop the bleeding. "Baobei, my flower, my treasure, my child..."
The yin energy is much weaker in that moment, as if what little his body can create from the
devotion and adoration of his one loyal devotee can't even do more than force his lungs to
breathe. He wants to speak, he wants to gesture and say it. He can't move that heavy energy
over him, he can't do anything... But he also can't speak.
The reinforcing celestial officers leave as soon as they arrive. It is a blur of bodies,
movements and words that Xie Meihua can barely register. He barely has any strength.
"You're not dying" his father's words are the only ones he can recognise. "You are not dying,
Meihua. Do you understand? You are not dying. You will be fine. You will heal. Surely it
has... been a very nasty blow. You're a God, but you still don't have as many devotees as I
wish. Ah... You will heal. You will heal. My child, my treasure..."
His father's words are broken whispers. There are tears in his eyes. Xie Meihua wants to tell
him he shouldn't cry, that he'll ruin the makeup, and it's that clumsy excuse of a thought that
makes him feel as weightless as he did when he was flying before the pain hit him.
He really is dying, isn't he?
He feels another tear slide down his face. It's not fair. How God, can he even die? Or will his
body just faint away until someone else recharges it with energy? Will he hang on with
consciousness until the healer arrives? Or will he feel himself dying and all his senses will be
blocked like a restful sleep until he's really safe?
Will his heart stop?
Will his father have to carry his motionless body in his arms, without a heartbeat or breath,
not knowing if he will ever wake up again?
"Please" his father begs. The caress on his face wipes away his tear. "Please."
Xie Meihua doesn't know where Nan Feng or Fu Yao have gone; there is no one but the
villagers recovering, their murmurs too far away that he can mistake them in the distance. He
does not know what has happened. All his eyes catch for an instant is a flash of silver.
He opens his mouth wanting to tell his father, but can barely muster the strength for a
strangled sound to escape from inside him. The silver butterfly flutters over Xie Lian's
shoulder for an instant before swooping down on him.
"What...?" his father's voice is muffled as another butterfly seems to fly over him. There are
three, four, five, ten, fifteen, fifteen, thirty, fifty, over a hundred silver butterflies suddenly
circling him in desperate, fleeting flutters as one by one they swoop down on Xie Meihua.
They land on his neck, on his head, on his shoulders, his cheek. Xie Meihua barely feels them
like an icy blizzard caressing him before the energy, yin energy at last, pushes into his skin,
into his flesh and through his blood, crossing directly into his meridians.
The energy is powerful. It is cold. It is comfortable. It is exactly the same energy that arises
naturally from his cultivation, from his hours of meditation, from his centre. It is an energy
that fits with his own like an exact jigsaw puzzle and pierces the boundaries of divinity,
expelling the yan energy to be the enclosed and immobile energy as it, at last, heals.
Healing hurts. His face twists in pain but he lets out no screams for fear of scaring away the
butterflies. They cover his hair like a crown and his face like a mask, unravelling one after
the other into tiny halos of pale light that burst into tiny silvery flashes as they somehow
seem to merge with him.
They sacrifice themselves by giving him all the spiritual energy they are made of.
Xie Meihua feels like he could weep with relief.
The pain of his healing head is immediately dulled by an enlightening relief. All his thoughts
become coherent again, his neck heals properly, even the blood that seems to come from his
mouth stops flowing although its metallic aftertaste remains. His ribs, a distant ache he wasn't
sure he noticed, click and mend giving him a deep breath of clean air.
Barely any pain remains as he sits up with the help of his father. His hands are strong as he
holds him, even though his terrified face is on the verge of breaking down in tears. There are
still silver butterflies on his robes, as if in some strange way they are reassuring themselves
that he really is all right with shy fluttering. Each and every one of them disappears moments
later, sparks of silver light floating where they used to be.
Xie Meihua feels complete. Full of yin energy, again, just as he might have felt after a deep
meditation with his body floating above the ground, his mind surrounded by magnetic sutras
guiding the energy within.
"Baobei?" his father asks now. His hands cradle his face so devotedly that Xie Meihua lets
the tears flow.
"I have yin energy" says Xie Meihua. It's probably not something he should say when he's
just almost revived, but Xie Lian smiles foolishly, as if it's just what he wants to hear.
"I know," he says, his voice barely louder than a whisper. "You've always been..."
"A-die" Xie Meihua shakes his head repeatedly; it feels good not to have a broken neck, feels
good not to be in pain just with the feeling of having a neck. "You don't understand. I have a
lot of yin energy because I don't have any natural yan energy. I can only function with yin
energy. The yan energy they gave me is hurting me."
He can feel it. It is like a poisonous snake, too hot and too big; it writhes and wriggles inside
him, fighting against the yin energy that is naturally comfortable against his being. The
divinity has been nothing but putting him through shit from the moment he ascended.
Xie Lian opens his mouth, closes it and opens it again. He seems to have gone blank.
Finally, he extends his hand towards him and says: "Give it to me."
Xie Meihua doesn't even question it. He puts his hand on his father's and lets it go.
Letting go of that energy is almost liberating. His body feels less rigid, less constricted, more
his again. That energy has never been his, and once he lets it go outside himself, even the
mantle of divinity does not feel like a prison.
The yan energy of the Heavens that he still carried trailing over his body, the yan energy of
the officers... There is something creeping at the edges of his consciousness, something that
feels almost like a resolution, but Xie Meihua knows he is not at all ready to face it. He is,
however, ready to ask:
"What the fuck with the butterflies?"
And Xie Lian lets out a laugh. Truly, he laughs and cries, suddenly hugging him so closely
and so carefully that Xie Meihua can feel as if he's going to break.
"Language" scolds him, laughing and crying at the same time, and Xie Meihua is not even
ashamed of the scolding because he is safe. He's safe, he's with his father, and this time no
one is going to force them apart, even if he has to face the Heavenly Emperor himself to give
up the Heavens and his damn heavenly troubles, and just be with his father for his entire
eternity.
Chapter End Notes
I took MQ and FX out of the scene so they wouldn't go fraking out with a bunch of
butterflies healing Meihua LMAO, THAT'S MY ENTIRE EXPLANATION, I DIDN'T
KNOW HOW NOT TO MAKE THEM GO CRAZY AFTER SEEING THAT
HC MAKING AN APPEARANCE JUST TO SAVE XL'S LITTLE BABY, ISN'T

THAT THE CUTEST THING IN THE WORLD? CRY WITH ME
I probably won't update tomorrow because I'm with a horrible stomach infection lmao
Roommie cooked something and it looks like she followed a recipe from XL, I swear
there's no other explanation for that
Thank you so much for reading, as always, I hope you liked the chapter and I'll see you
in the next chapter! <3
Crimson Rain Sought Flower
Chapter Summary
Xie Meihua learns about one of the Four Calamities: his father.
Chapter Notes
Apparently the Xie Lian recipe that Roommie cooked gave me a swollen liver LMAO
well, that's the whole experience
Thank you very much for the good wishes! I'm better now too, with medicine and no
fever (luckily) but I will continue to take it easy
As always thank you so much for reading and commenting, I hope you enjoy today's
chapter! <3
The Heavens receive him in an almost majestic manner even though his face is jaded. Xie
Meihua has the unpleasant feeling that he is going to get dirty just by setting foot there, and
that if another Heavenly Official watches him more closely, they might punch him directly in
the face. To his unfortunate misfortune he is unlucky that none of them are idiots enough to
get too close.
He is ready to settle his debt and leave.
However, it seems that the time it takes for a man to repay his merits is much longer than a
couple of minutes, as he would have liked. Xie Meihua scans the Heavens, the yan energy
clinging to his skin like a viscous, annoying sensation. Ling Wen's palace minions guide him
to his own golden palace, which is actually not entirely his own: it is the Golden Palace of
Xianle.
The palace should belong to his father, sent to build by the Celestial Emperor himself as a
reminder of Xianle's glory, and now it belonged to anyone belonging to the Xianle family. If
Xie Meihua ever has a son, and that son ascends, that palace will also belong to him.
Despite its gold roofs, the wealth inside is far less opulent and far more tranquil. It mixes the
elegance of flowers with colourful jewellery, artistic fans painted on the walls, paintings with
stories of his father's homeland decorate the walls. Xie Meihua, in spite of everything, feels
grateful to be looking at pieces of his own family's past.
The hours pass.
It is difficult to notice the passage of time in the Heavenly Court, and counting incense times
is absolutely more maddening than he first thought. He asks Ling Wen almost five times an
hour if his debt is settled yet, and Ling Wen informs him every time that no, not yet.
The spiritual communication matrix is a mess each time he enters, and the more he wanders
among them, the wandering voices that ignore a gossiping wanderer are wilder and more
vulgarly worded, erratic and amusing. It's a chaotic thing, full of laughter, mockery, gossip
and wild adventures among Gods whose names he doesn't know, and really doesn't want to
know. Xie Meihua hears (pretending to meditate, in a floating repose under one of the flower-
studded trees in the centre of the Xianle family's Golden Palace) so much gossip about Gods
that he feels his ears burning with embarrassment.
But that's okay. He never knows when or how he might use that information, so he hear.
Finally, Ling Wen talks to him: "Your Highness, your debt has been settled."
"Fuck yeah!" is Xie Meihua's abrupt reply, something he doesn't really know if he's allowed
to say. He's in Heaven, anyway. "Can I leave right now?"
"I would suggest you visit the spiritual communication array first" and the word suggest
twists into a request that doesn't need to be formal. "There are many Gods gathered together
discussing what has happened. They all await your presence."
"They all know the password to my private spiritual communication array if they needed to
summon me to a meeting so badly" says Xie Meihua, but he knows that it is not ignorance of
the password that prevents them from doing so, but pride. A mischievous smile twists his
gesture. "I'll go."
The Spiritual Communication Array is chaos as he silently slips in there.
"Fuck! Have they picked the damn mountain yet?" demands General Nan Yang's voice. Feng
Xin's tone is what follows it to irate. "Xuan Ji is insane. She refuses to tell us anything about
the Green Ghost's whereabouts as long as she can't see General Pei. Her head won't stop
screaming!"
There is more discussion. Words of profanity are directed from one place to another, clashing
with each other, voices mingle in a stream of Gods participating, suggesting or prying into
the chaos.
Then, a familiar voice caresses his private communication array. His father's voice causes Xie
Meihua to almost fall out of his levitation as he abruptly interrupts over the other voices,
saying: "Ah, Meihua, is it serious, was that password necessary?"
Xie Meihua smiles so broadly that he feels his face resent it.
"Of course" he replies mockingly. "I'll be back with you soon, A-die! How long has it been
already? This damn glow won't tell me how many days it's been! I'm settling last minute
matters, have you found a place for us to stay?"
Before Xie Meihua ascended to the Heavens again they had agreed that, while Xie Meihua
waited for his debt to be settled once and for all and the Heavenly Officials to let him go, Xie
Lian would look for somewhere they could stay. A couple of military officers would kindly
escort him to the nearest village with their own horses, and help in the search for a place
where they could build a comfortable house.
When he found a place, Xie Lian would use the spiritual energy Xie Meihua had given him to
communicate with him and tell him exactly where he should go, and where they should meet.
"Language" Xie Lian scolds again, but his scolding is even amusing. "It's barely been a
couple of days, you don't have to worry about that. I've found a comfortable little place. It's,
uh... A bit humble" the way his father mentions that it's humble gives Xie Meihua the feeling
that the place is falling apart "but the people in the village are very nice. It's Puqi Village, by
the way! Its east of Mount Yu Jun, next to the adjoining mountains. They gave me water
chestnuts, brooms and materials, and offered their help as soon as they saw I was about to
move in.”
"That's wonderful!" replies Xie Meihua cheerfully. "I'll be back as soon as I get rid of this
fucking trash."
This time there is no reply or scolding from his father. Xie Meihua assumes that the spiritual
energy ran out, too soon and too unexpectedly. With an exhausted sigh Xie Meihua returns to
the main discussion.
"Qi Rong was not on Mount Jun Yu" someone was saying as he turns his attention back to the
chaotic voices. From the tone alone Xie Meihua can recognise that it is General Xuan Zhen,
Mu Qing, "He wasn't even close. No matter how much scouring was done, no other ghosts
were found in the vicinity."
"None?" asks Xie Meihua with genuine curiosity. "What about the butterflies?"
It's not as if Xie Meihua wasn't curious about the butterflies. After all, they had saved his life;
the young man his father met in the forest, who so kindly treated him despite the suspicion
that he was the Ghost Groom, must be someone exceptional.
"Butterflies?" someone asks. Xie Meihua doesn't recognise his voice at all, but still answers:
"Silver butterflies. My father, His Highness the Crown Prince, and I, met a ghost with silver
butterflies on Mountain Yu Jun."
The silence that follows his statement almost hurts his ears. For a moment, Xie Meihua
wonders if he wasn't, by any chance, expelled from the spiritual communication array. Is that
even possible? Could someone do that? Or silence him?
To his good fortune, Ling Wen is the one who speaks several moments of silence later: "Your
Highness, what did you just say?"
"He just said" Mu Qing says instead, "that His Highness the Crown Prince, and His Highness
Xie Meihua, met with Hua Cheng."
Xie Meihua literally falls to the ground in the most undignified manner possible. It takes him
a moment to steady himself.
"What?" his own voice is a croak in the spiritual communication array.
"Your Highness recognises the name?" asks Mu Qing, suspiciously.
"Not at all" replies Xie Meihua. He is already standing up at that moment, shaking out his
new robes, tugging a little at the edges so they don't look as disastrous as if he really had just
fallen on his ass on the floor in the middle of his meditation.
"Your Highness, what did Hua Cheng do to you?" asks a voice. The tone with which it asks is
such, with such a level of terror, that Xie Meihua wonders to himself if he isn't supposed to
be terrified. He isn't.
"Nothing" he replies, perhaps a little too tersely. He doesn't know how much of his
devastating emotions he can contain if he says too much. "He accompanied His Highness the
Crown Prince through the forest and broke the evil spiritual set around him. We could both
see his silver butterflies at dawn hovering around the Ming Guang Temple."
He omits the real reason the butterflies were there. His heart almost skips several beats as he
runs through the empty corridors of his own palace, pushing open the outer doors and exiting
without even closing them behind him.
Some officer whose name he did not know asks: "What do you think about this?"
The voices slink away from his consciousness as Xie Meihua tune them out, running into the
streets and away from the Gods watching him as if it were in bad taste to run through the
streets of Heaven, skidding around corners and dodging paper-laden officials. It probably
was.
"I can't give an opinion on this!"
"What did he try to do? It's terrible."
"Who would understand Hua Cheng's motivations?"
The discussion rises again, bit by bit, now another topic being the central one. When Xie
Meihua actually breaks his connection to the communication he is standing in front of Ling
Wen's Palace with bated breath.
Ling Wen stands in the doorway, arms folded, looking sternly at him. It seems she was even
waiting for him.
"Your Honour, I need all the information you may have on Hua Cheng" he requests after deep
breaths. He has the fitness to run longer than that without tiring, but the mess of his weak
muscles and out-of-step heart are not just from running.
Hua Cheng.
Hua Cheng.
Ling Wen invites him in. He pours a tea that Xie Meihua does not touch, and returns a time of
incense later dropping rolled scrolls in front of him. Xie Meihua opens them, quickly
surrounding himself with stories about one of the Four Calamities, Crimson Rain Sought
Flower.
Hua Cheng had made his name in a single battle by challenging in a duel exactly thirty-five
gods, not one more and not one less. Only thirty-three accepted his duel; he defeated and
spilled the blood of all the Martial Gods, and the Civil Gods he crushed to dust in a heart-
rending debate. Eloquent, uncompromising, polite and bold, victory took weight in his hand.
And so did the stupidity of the gods.
In agreeing to the duel, if Hua Cheng lost, he would offer his ashes for the Gods to destroy
him the way they wanted. On the other hand, if the Heavenly Officials lost, they would all
voluntarily renounce the Heavens and their divinity.
Not one Heavenly Official kept his promise.
Hua Cheng burnt all his temples in a single night. No one knew how he had done it, but what
was done was done, and Hua Cheng had reduced to ashes all that the thirty-three gods had
built.
Xie Meihua looks at the scrolls with such admiration that his fingers tremble.
"Your Honour" he requests again after a moment. Ling Wen shakes her head hesitantly. "Who
were the gods of the burnt temples?"
Xie Meihua learns their names. He looks for connections. He searches for antiquity. There is
nothing to connect them to each other, except....
"If only thirty-three accepted" he says with a pause. "Who refused?"
"General Xuan Zhen and General Nan Yang" Ling Wen reports slowly. She pauses, as if
steeling herself just before asking: "Are you afraid that your father is in danger, Your
Highness?"
Xie Meihua slowly shakes his head. The trembling of his fingers slips like a shiver as he sips
the thoroughly chilled tea at his side. He thanks Ling Wen with a very respectful bow, asking
if he can please take the scrolls with him: "I would like my father to be aware of this."
The excuse sounds pathetic to him. He simply needs to have them close by.
Ling Wen provides him with copies of all the scrolls where Hua Cheng is mentioned, whether
the destructive and chaotic history revolves around him, or whether he is mentioned as an
apparition in dreams, nightmares or battles where his silver butterflies terrorised the gods.
Xie Meihua hugs the scrolls to his chest as tightly as his arms can as he returns to his palace.
He notices that someone has kindly closed the door. He carelessly pushes it open with one
foot before diving inside and beginning his mad dash.
The rooms are littered with riches, but it is not riches that Xie Meihua wants. He exchanges
his ostentatious robes that he put on just to annoy the other Celestial Officers for the only red
robes he can find; even if they have white and gold accents, they should suffice. He adjusts
his belt, wipes a pair of dusty weapons from the armoury and he ties them on his belt carries
at his hips. The two short swords sit comfortably against him, as if somehow waiting for him.
Xie Meihua carefully loads the scrolls into a sack. Then, he assesses what gold things he can
sell in the human realm. He ends up shoving inside bowls of fruit (and their fillings: he is
sure his father will appreciate fresh fruit) without any particular carvings, golden plates and
solid gold cutlery. With that alone he is sure they can make themselves a small fortune with
which to build a decent house.
He leaves jewellery and robes in their place: it is his family's treasure, the real treasure, the
memory of what was once his father's. He will make sure that the next time he is forced to
visit the Heavens they have a nice house, a library to fill with the ancient scrolls with stories
of his home, a spacious wardrobe where he can accommodate the Crown Prince's luxurious
robes, and precious jewellery boxes where he can store his jewels.
He loads everything he needs and leaves the golden palace. Dressed in red and white with his
black hair loose over one shoulder and a bag full of scrolls and gold on his shoulder, Xie
Meihua feels that there is a power far from spiritual energy coursing through his veins.
He feels strong.
He feels complete.
"Ling Wen, Ling Wen all-knowing Ling Wen" when he reaches the gates of Heaven he
repeats the password even if he doesn't need to. Ling Wen responds almost immediately.
"Your Highness, did you forget something...?"
"I'm leaving" is all he says rudely interrupting her, but he doesn't want to have any other kind
of conversation. He wants to shriek. He wants to jump. He wants to run into his father's arms
and tell him everything. "I thought someone had to know."
And then he jumps down.
Chapter End Notes
Mu Qing: Your Highness, do you recognise the name?

Xie Miehua: Of course not, but give me half an hour and we'll talk about it
Also:
Xie Meihua: Ling Wen, Ling Wen! I met Hua Cheng!! What are the Four Calamities?
What are their stories? What are those gods that Hua Cheng ruined? And what else do
you know of Hua Cheng? Can I take these scrolls with me?
Ling Wen: They don't pay me enough to be a babysitter
AND, IN THE NEXT CHAPTER, THE HOPEFULLY AWAITED FIRST MEETING

BETWEEN FAFA AND HIS SON! I didn't expect it to take so long, I swear, I'm sorry!
Thank you very much again for everything, and see you in the next chapter sweetie!
A ride under maple leaves, part one
Chapter Summary
Xie Meihua meets a stranger in a cart.
Chapter Notes
Happy ghost festival! lmao I find it hyper funny the fact that I'm posting this chapter in
the night of the ghost festival, when literally, this chapter is DURING the ghost festival
(along with the next 3-4 chapters) I don't know, it's extremely funny to me
FIRST MEETING BETWEEN FATHER AND SON, FINALLY
And as always thank you very much for reading, for commenting, and for all the good
wishes! I'm doing much better now, although I'm still in a lot of pain, but nothing I can't
handle! Thank you so much!
Even if Xie Meihua considers that he has good luck, he is absolutely sure that his good luck
is not miraculous. Even if he would have liked the village he fell near this time to be Puqi
Village, a couple of indications later he discovers that it’s not.
"Ah, little gongzi is looking for Puqi Village?" says a man, catching his attention
unexpectedly, but gratefully. "It's up the mountain, behind the maple forest. I'm going up
there. Hop in and I'll catch up with you."
The man guides him to a straw-laden cart pulled by an ox. Xie Meihua thanks him with
respectful bows, presents him with fresh fruit and climbs in, settling himself against the
straw, easily finding a comfortable position. A cart ride instead of exhausting himself up the
mountain is a real blessing, and he is quite sure it will help calm his bubbling nerves.
All he wants is to be reunited with his father. It has been longer this time, but last time, with
his ascension, it had been with no preparation and the despair of not knowing when he would
see him again. Now they were both psyched for the separation and, although it took longer
than Xie Meihua would have liked, he is sure his father will greet him with muddy tea and a
warm embrace.
That's all he wants.

The cart moves forward. The rattling is soothing to his agitated mind and the road, little by
little, transforms into a festival of colours. The leaves fall in spiral dances to earth and Xie
Meihua wonders how bad it would be to take a short nap.
He braids his hair over his shoulder, trying to avoid making a mess. However, as he settles
into the straw, ready to sleep to pass the time more quickly, he notices something he hadn't
noticed before: he is not alone in the cart. Two legs wrapped in fine cloth and leather boots
are sticking out to one side of him, even though the pile of straw covers much of his body.
Well, even he isn't foolish enough to willingly fall asleep next to a stranger, much less when a
curious inhale later identifies the scent of alpha among the straw; the stranger is an alpha with
a powerful flowery scent, and sometimes, some alphas could be quite aggressive towards
each other. With a ragged sigh he rummages through the inside of his overstuffed sack,
pulling out one of the many scrolls that tells about Hua Cheng.
The myths are exquisite. Xie Meihua reads them attentively, as if they were fantastic tales.
His origins and identity are a mystery; his real name is almost as likely to be Hua Cheng as
any other. The names and titles of devastating battles fall upon him with the same incredulity
as bedtime fairy tales.
He doesn't realise he is mumbling until the stranger beside him replies: "Well, not all stories
have to be made of truth. Many are built on solid foundations, but full of lies."
Xie Meihua smiles, barely.
"I know that" he replies, as if the stranger sitting next to him is a lifelong acquaintance.
"Sometimes, though, the stories are solid foundations in themselves. They are the truths that
people believe, and the judicious eye with which the actions and decisions of others are
judged."
The stranger beside him hums a nod.
"That's quite right" he says, after a pause. "People warp the truth as they please - who cares
about solid basis when they can build them?"
Xie Meihua laughs, his smile spreading genuinely across his face.
"It's more interesting to make up truths about someone than to find out their origins" Xie
Meihua says slowly. His fingers caress the characters of Hua Cheng's name on the scroll,
letting out a sigh. "It's hard to believe a story that has the same protagonist can be
embellished in so many ways. It makes them not even seem like the same person."
Xie Meihua hears a humming next to him; the movement of the straw suddenly reveals the
alpha next to him. He looks barely older than he is, almost as old as his father has been
eternalized. Yet what strikes Xie Meihua is the absolutely insane resemblance of the boy
beside him: the same long black hair, the same arched eyebrows, and the same white skin.
He's sure it must be a very ridiculous coincidence, and the stranger seems to think so too,
because whatever he's going to say dies when he looks at him face to face.
"We both wear red" is the first thing Xie Meihua says, pointing to his own robes and the
stranger's outer shirt; his long robes are of a high quality, but the stranger's shirt, though
simpler, is of refined fabrics almost as expensive as his own. His smile is playful at the edges
as the boy looks down from his eyes to see his robes, as if that is the only thing he has not
seen. "It's a very funny coincidence. Red has always been my favourite colour."
A warm smile creeps across the stranger's face.
"It's a nice coincidence."
Maple leaves fall on them like rain. Xie Meihua turns his gaze back to his scroll, removing a
leaf from the yellowed paper.
"What stories does the little gongzi read?" asks the stranger beside him. Xie Meihua gestures.
"Ah, please" he shakes his head nervously. He's had enough of formal titles in the Heavens
full of hypocritical Officials. "My family name is Xie, my name is Meihua, like the plum
blossom. You don't need to call me with such respect. I'm not someone noble or from a great
family."
"Didi, then?" the stranger's smile is a little hesitant. Xie Meihua smiles.
"That's better" he agrees, fully compliant. It's a nickname many have given him before, and
sometimes, it's the affectionate way his father has called him when Xie Meihua's age was old
enough that he couldn't call his father A-die in public without getting quizzical looks. In
those situations, they simply behaved as if they were siblings. The memory brings a very
welcome sense of warmth to his heart. "What should I call you?"
"I am the third in my family" the stranger softly explains "so didi can call me San Lang."
Xie Meihua gives San Lang a broad, warm smile.
"It is an honour to meet you, San Lang" he says. San Lang continues to stare at him as if
seeing an apparition and, suddenly feeling somewhat self-conscious, Xie Meihua returns to
his scroll. More maple leaves have fallen on the words and Xie Meihua carefully brushes
them aside.
"The honour is mine," replies San Lang after a moment's silence. "What tales does didi
read?"
Xie Meihua directs a crooked smile at him.
"Oh, I read about Crimson Rain Sought Flower, Hua Cheng" he replies. Saying his name
feels almost forbidden, something he shouldn't be doing, but uttering it fills his heart with
absolute happiness. San Lang settles an inch closer, in a carefree manner.
"So, does didi read horror stories?" he asks. Xie Meihua frowns, all his humour falling away.
"Not at all" his tone is perhaps too harsh as he shrugs. "Why would they be horror stories?"
"Hua Cheng has many terrifying stories under his belt" San Lang says with a smile. Xie
Meihua gives him the worst of his looks which, thankfully, seems to freeze his amused
expression.
"Hadn't we agreed that stories, even if they are solid basis, are riddled with lies?" his voice
sounds like a complaint. San Lang doesn't respond and Xie Meihua averts his gaze from him,
returning to his scroll. Even so, he feels it impossible to concentrate. The strange San Lang is
too close to him for his own comfort.
"Some tales would still be horror" San Lang explains after a pause "no matter what their
basis, or their origins."
"I disagree" Xie Meihua twists his face. He doesn't know why the implications annoy him so
much. "However, if you know so much, what can you tell me about him, about Hua Cheng?"
"Well, that's a horror story in itself" San Lang says again. Xie Meihua doesn't avoid rolling
his eyes, cursing Mu Qing inwardly for giving the damn habit.
"Anything but negative?" he asks. His fingers tremble slightly over the words on the scroll.
San Lang watches his hands for a moment before speaking.
"He is a devotee" he says softly. Xie Meihua sighs.
"That's all?" he insist. If San Lang considers it disrespectful, he says nothing, because he
continue.
"He's only fair" he replies after a moment more of silence. "He is loyal to his convictions.
The stories speak of him as one who has meted out his own justice, in the right way. Or in he
considers to be the right way."
"I have read it" says Xie Meihua, feeling the shadow of the thirty-three gods and their
burning temples being a constant awe that wraps his chest in warmth. "He is very powerful."
"He is" San Lang confirms at his side. "No story tells of him attacking innocents, though.
There are stories that tell of him helping those in need if they ask very nicely, and if the plea
moves him."
"I haven't read those" Xie Meihua agrees, rolling up his scroll and returning it to his bag. He
turns to face San Lang, who is still staring at him as if he has seen a spectre. He barely seems
to be breathing. "Would you like to tell me about them?"
And San Lang does. He tells of a story of a girl abandoned by her family who wept and left
flowers at the feet of the time-ruined statue of a forgotten God, and how a Ghost King
sheltered her loneliness, provided for her, fed her, and introduced her to a new family who
welcomed her with the love she never had. He tells several stories of children unjustly
wronged and relocated to loving families after their villages mysteriously burned down. He
tells of a God banished and left to fend for himself with nothing to lose who ended up in a
fight, badly wounded and bleeding, and how Hua Cheng took him under his protection, cared
for him and helped him until the banished God returned his loyalty in the form of
companionship. He tells of a hunger-torn Devastation for which Crimson Rain Sought Flower
cooks entire banquets with his own hands to satiate his appetite.
He tells of a Ghost City littered with red lamps that emulate battle stars above the skies. He
tells of how Hua Cheng built every building with his own hands, assembled every red
lantern, painted every wall and carved every statue; it tells how he built a home for
wanderers, shops for merchants, houses for anguished spirits with no place to go. He tells
how he built a home for everyone but himself. San Lang talks about how, after the hard work,
Ghost City gave it all back to Hua Cheng with its worship and loyalty.
Xie Meihua wraps himself in stories like a warm blanket. He accepts them, adores them and
welcomes them straight into his heart.
Hua Cheng has horrible stories but, although even the stranger in front of him has it implicit
in his every word, he knows that he is not a bad person.
He has saved his life. He has saved his father twice; the last time by guiding him with a
gentle hand, the first time by taking solitude away from him.
Hua Cheng is his father.
Hua Cheng could never be a bad person, something in his heart knows it, and Xie Meihua
chooses to believe it completely.
Chapter End Notes
HC: Dianxia's son has to be absolutely perfect, like Dianxia, and I just have to win his
friendship in order to protect him and keep Dianxia from suffering
HMX: *talks about how he practically worships the ground HC walks on, defends him
from bad accusations on his behalf, and has a bunch of scrolls with his stories on them*
HC: .... I feel like I'm missing something, but I'm not entirely sure what
HC has suspicions that he is the father of XMH? Not at all. He would never imagine it.
Even if he wanted to, he "knows" he's never been close to Dianxia like that, because if
he did, he wouldn't have let him go *cries* foolish amnesiac idiot
Thank you very much for reading! Tomorrow we're back to daily updates until we finish
this little cart ride arc, because I'm crying with my new college schedules, SO, you
know, suffering, I'll update every other day until I run out of chapters ahead and we'll all
cry
See you in the next chapter sweetheart! <3

A ride under maple leaves, part two
Chapter Summary
Xie Meihua and San Lang talk about gods.
Chapter Notes
Aahh, thanks so much for reading as always! I'm sorry I stopped replying to comments,
for some reason I'm having a bad time-socialising? And each one deserves a long,
extensive and wonderful reply which you will indeed get! *cries* Thank you so much
for every comment and every kudo, and everything! Thank you!
"I'm afraid there aren't too many stories where Hua Cheng can be seen as anything other than
a nightmare" apologises San Lang after the last story. Xie Meihua shakes his head repeatedly.
"No story where Hua Cheng is can be a nightmare" he complains, almost puffing out his
cheeks in a childish gesture. He restrains himself at the last minute.
"Not even the story where he burns the temples of thirty-three gods?" asks San Lang, cocking
his head in genuine curiosity. Xie Meihua lets out a small laugh.
"Of course not, it's my favourite" he replies happily. San Lang's expression is utterly
perplexed at the honest statement. "That story has my complete admiration - to take on thirty-
three gods, and win! Those foolish gods should not have recanted. If one takes an oath, the
least one can do is carry it through to the end."
"But they were gods" San Lang's voice insists on a point that Xie Meihua cannot consider
should matter to him. "Hua Cheng chose to challenge them and put a horrible fate on their
existences."
"So what?" Xie Meihua shrugs. "If Hua Cheng, of all ghosts and devastations, chose that they
should pay with their humiliation and defeat... he must have done it for a reason. He doesn't
seem to be the kind of ghost who does things just for the sake of it."
San Lang's gaze in front of him is stunned. A small smile creeps across his lips.
"That makes sense," he agrees in a warm voice. "We have agreed that Hua Cheng can be
someone very loyal to his convictions. Despite that, destroying the temples like that..."
"I would have done worse," the words escape Xie Meihua before he can restrain himself. San
Lang pauses, raising an eyebrow, almost imploring him for details with his gaze.
"How would didi have done it?" he asks. Even if his tone is kind, there's something in his
eyes that shine like stars that Xie Meihua can't quite understand.
"I understand that setting fire to all their temples in one night is an impressive thing to do," he
explains. The idea twists through his thoughts, chaotic and wondrous. "But, if I had to, I
would leave a couple of them. I'd give the gods hope that it was a warning to behave. Maybe
I would have burned half of them, bringing them back to face their choices and their actions.
It would have given them another chance to redeem themselves and return to humanity,
humbling themselves in a more sordid way" let the words flow. Speaking and making eye
contact is not easy, but the admiration growing on San Lang's face is something that touches
a sensitive nerve in him, so he continues. "I would keep burning their temples bit by bit.
Slowly. I would allow their hopes to exist before burning them; sooner or later they would
give up of their own accord, accepting the humiliation of their own free will."
Xie Meihua is aware that his morals are grey, and push into abysmal black when his nerves
are pinched. He knows that his morals are completely black if anyone tries to harm his father;
just as his father was able to tear Xuan Ji's body to pieces and silence her with a sword to her
throat, Xie Meihua knows that, if he needs to confront his pain and his death to stand by his
father's side and protect him, he will do so.
He has already proven himself capable of that, after all.
If any of those thirty-three gods had ever humiliated or been rude to his father, Xie Meihua is
content with their non-existence. They deserve neither life, nor death, nor rest in peace.
"Didi is extremely creative" replies San Lang after weighing up the idea. "I'm afraid Hua
Cheng wasn't that creative at his time."
"Hua Cheng has made a name for himself" defends Xie Meihua, smiling this time. "He
wouldn't have done it with creativity and patience. Just what he did is the humbling blow the
Heavens needed on their arrogant heads."
San Lang lets out a rather gleeful chuckle.
"Didi doesn't seem to be a supporter of the Heavens," says San Lang, as if it wasn't obvious.
Xie Meihua smiles.
"I hate them" he accepts too easily. "The Gods are a bunch of ridiculous stiffs. They wouldn't
know what a good God is even if they had one right in front of their faces, and they live off
worshipping useless ones with a thousand lovers incapable of taking care of their messes, or
treacherous Gods who aren't capable of keeping their promises, when they could pray and
offer themselves to things that are truly worthwhile."
San Lang hums something akin to a nod. His smile spreads a little, and from the glint in his
eyes, Xie Meihua gets the feeling that whatever he's about to say is up to no good.
"Ah, this San Lang worships two Gods," he says slowly, as if carefully weighing his words.
Something in his tone surprises him. Xie Meihua doesn't consider him to be someone
judicious, but something in San Lang's countenance doesn't exactly seem to be the face of
someone devout. "I'm afraid I have failed didi in that regard. Some Gods are worthy of
worship."
"Well, I worship a God too," he complains; he can rarely say it so openly because his father
refuses anything that implies he is a God, but banished or not, his father is the Flower
Crowned Martial God, and Xie Meihua is satisfied that he can be a flower he can place in his
father's crown. "But he is not in the Heavens. If it is not in the Heavens, nothing there is
worthy of my attention."
"That's very curious," says San Lang, and his smile spreads warmly. "Maybe we worship the
same God."
"I don't think so," Xie Meihua rolls his eyes. At the same time, he curses Mu Qing so fiercely
that he is sure the God will receive the curse between his prayers. He can almost picture him
bewildered, drinking tea or something, receiving a curse in a prayerful voice and trying to
figure out what the hell it means and why. "He is an ancient god forgotten. There's nothing
left of his realm but memories and legends. Besides me, I don't think he has any other
believers."
"Funny you should worship him, then" says San Lang with a particularly mocking tone.
Despite this, his eyes are curious when he asks, "Is didi really older than he looks to worship
such an ancient god?"
The question seems to have a deep and genuine curiosity, as if the small piece of information
is extremely important. Xie Meihua snorts.
"Not at all, I'm not even of age" and looks at San Lang before saying, "I just know which
Gods are worthwhile."
San Lang lets out another laugh. It is warm and, for some reason, Xie Meihua feels at home.
The stranger has quickly transitioned into a person that, unexpectedly and suddenly, Xie
Meihua feels comfortable with.
"My Gods are worth it," San Lang defends himself. His expression is amused. "I can tell you
stories about them, if you wish. They might change your perception."
"I hear you," says Xie Meihua. San Lang lets his gaze wander into the trees. Leaves swirl
around them, drenching the way in red; dusk is imminent on the horizon, and above their
heads the sky is stained gold and pink.
"Not long ago" narrates San Lang, his voice with a particular tone of pride "a God dressed in
black bowed before military officers, mere mortals, to plead with them that no matter how
much of their heart was in battle, if they ever felt their lives in danger, they could flee. That
their lives were important, and worthwhile."
Xie Meihua feels his ears slowly turn red. His face burns.
"What?" the sound comes out of his mouth like a squawk. San Lang doesn't interrupt himself,
as if he hadn't heard anything.
"And, during the heat of the fight, surrounded by hundreds of wild beasts and undead, His
Midnight Highness was brought to his knees before the beasts. Vulnerable, on their level, he
screamed so loudly that he wrenched the life from the creatures. Stars sprang from him, and
the battle against the beasts ended as swiftly as never any other battle before."
"His Midnight Highness" Xie Meihua's ears are not only burning. Blushing drenches his
cheeks and neck, utterly embarrassed. His voice is utterly shaky and nervous as he says, "I've
never heard of him before. I've never heard of his story before. Never ever. Where did he
come from? What is that ridiculous name?"
"Don't offend my God" complains San Lang. Despite his complaint, it doesn't seem to be
something that drives him too far out of his depth, because he continues to speak normally:
"Apparently, the Military Officers who tell the story offered him that name. They heard him
being called Your Highness, so they thought he was a Prince from some distant kingdom, but
not knowing his origin and seeing that he could manifest his power as stars that fell on the
beasts wiping them out, they decided that Midnight was a good title."
"Right" says Xie Meihua, covering his face with his hands unable to hide it. He pulls his legs
together against his chest, hugging himself and burying his head between his knees, longing
for a hole to open up in the earth and swallow him. "I insist. I've never heard of him. He must
not be that popular. I'm sure it's a silly tale that no one but San Lang knows about."
His voice comes out muffled. San Lang laughs.
"It's very popular all over the north, and I think it's reaching as far south as the south, though
I couldn't say for sure. It's reached the docks for sure," he says, to his utter embarrassment.
San Lang even seems to relish this fact. "It's a magnificent story. The Northern Military
Officers are building him a great and wonderful temple worthy of his renown. They have
already begun preparations, and have even hired me as an artist to make a statue of him.
That's the reason I'm going to the mountains, in fact."
"That's impressive," says Xie Meihua so sarcastically that it even hurts. His face burns. "Ah,
so, this God... His Midnight Highness," saying the name feels so ridiculous that it even costs
him, but he continues: "What's so special about him that San Lang worships him?"
"It's selfless" says San Lang. There is almost affection in his words, and Xie Meihua hides his
face even more. "He is kind. He is gentle. He protects common people. He cares for every
person around him, seeing them as his equal, from military officers to simple celestial
servants. He is just, too, and loyal to his words and promises. Ah, this San Lang doesn't know
as much as he would like to about one of his Gods, but he sure as hell can learn."
Xie Meihua makes a strangled sound.
"Sure" he says with absolutely no conviction. "Learning more would be best."
As if San Lang understands his embarrassment, he laughs.

"Is didi feeling good?" he asks in a tone that sounds like mockery rather than genuine
concern. It's as if he's aware that he's not actually wincing in pain, but in sordid
embarrassment. "Didi look sick."
"The cart makes me dizzy" he is quick to lie. "It will pass."
"If didi says so" replies San Lang.
Hugging his knees to his chest, face burning with shame, Xie Meihua dares a curious glance
at San Lang. His travelling companion has his eyes closed and his head held high, as if he is
thoroughly enjoying the journey. As if there, in that straw wagon, is the only place he wants
to be. His relaxed pose and happy expression only make Xie Meihua bury his face in his
knees again, totally embarrassed.
He is supposed to have good luck. His good luck is supposed to keep him away from
situations where he's exposed to the divinity he can't yet tear from his skin, not throw him
headlong into the rare people who happen to offer him their devotion.
Xie Meihua does not want to be a god. He is not a skilled swordsman or a born leader. He is
just a boy who wants to be with his father forever.
It was only because of the promise of eternity (and Ling Wen's oath that renouncing divinity
was ridiculous when his father seemed to be intended for ascend to his own divinity sooner
rather than later, according to her analysis) so that he could spend it with his father and be
assured that he would never again be alone, with no one around to care for him or accompany
him, that had kept him on the divinity.
However, if his father did not ascend and it was all a ridiculous excuse to keep him a God
against his explicit will, Xie Meihua had swear to himself to destroy the Heavens. He would
burn every temple, break down every Golden Palace with his bare hands, and devastate every
stone that had once forged the temples of the Celestial Emperor himself until nothing was left
of them but a dastardly memory of what once was.
And, shameful though it was, San Lang was right about that foolish God, His Midnight
Highness, whom he worshipped: he was loyal to his swear.
Chapter End Notes
HC: *thinking* Dianxia's son is intriguing

XMH: *He talks about how he would burn all the temples, slowly, making the gods
suffer and willingly give in to humanity by humiliating themselves*
HC: *thinking* ... I must not anger Dianxia's son, understood
Hua Cheng wouldn't adore our little Meihua if he wasn't the son of his beloved, but of
course, he is the son of his beloved and whatever brings happiness to Xie Lian, will
bring happiness to Hua Cheng (even if it's being nice to the son of a "stranger" who
abandoned his beloved with the responsibility... LMAO)
I know it's not the longest chapter in the world, but for some reason it was difficult for
me to edit it! Aaaah, I hope you liked it! Thank you so much for reading! See you in the
next chapter honey!! <3
Back to back, sword to sword
Chapter Summary
Xie Meihua and San Lang fight together against some ghosts.
Chapter Notes
YESTERDAY MY LAPTOP DECIDED TO DIE, luckily I have years of writing on

flashdrive for not having my own computer, so I haven't lost anything and now I'm
updating from Roommie's sister's lap!
Luckily I've already taken my laptop to service and it's only a minor problem, so I'll
have it ready for the weekend! Anyway I didn't want to leave you without an update so,
I hope you like it! <3 <3 <3
As always, thank you very much for reading and commenting! You fill my days with
serotonin! I'm going through a pretty depressive time so every time I feel down, I reread
the nice comments you're leaving me, and it feels warm!! Thank you!!
The night creeps over them, slow and gentle, dotting the sky with stars. Between the trees the
moon is visible as a child's cradle, a smile that lights up the sky brighter and brighter as the
dusk melts into darkness.
It is then that Xie Meihua senses that something strange is stirring in the atmosphere around
him. The cart lurches abruptly, slowing down, and due to his awkward position hugging his
knees he is unable to keep his balance enough to avoid falling.
Two strong arms catch him before he rolls off the cart.
"Are you all right?" asks San Lang. Xie Meihua nods as he seeks to sit up, all embarrassment
abandoned as he rearranges himself. Even though he's safe now, San Lang doesn't take his
hand off his back, holding him with genuine care. The touch reminds him so immediately of
his father that Xie Meihua is stunned by the inordinate concern on the part of a stranger. "Did
you get hit?"
"I'm fine" Xie Meihua quickly replies. "What's wrong?"
Ahead, the owner of the cart is letting loose low insults and blows at the ox, suddenly
motionless in the middle of the road, "Come on, what's wrong, move, move!"
Xie Meihua half sits up in the cart, sharpening his eyes on the road. Ahead of him he can see
small traces of light floating among the trees, bright glints. Beyond, where the darkness is
surrounded by mist, lanterns and headless ghosts.
"Fuck" he curses. San Lang turns to look at him with a raised eyebrow.
"Didi has his vocabulary," he says, mockingly. Xie Meihua clicks his tongue as he knots his
sack, holding onto the edge of the cart firmly.
"San Lang would have it too if he had to fight silly ghosts," he complains, his voice sounding
too whimsical for his own enjoyment. He shouldn't have to sound like a spoilt, whimsical
child having to perforce go and fight, but for certain, it's what he is. "What day is it today?"
"Ghost Festival" replies San Lang as if it's the most normal thing in the world. Xie Meihua
lets out a high-pitched groan: really? Of all the dates he could travel alone? If he was
travelling with his father, Ruoye would have hidden them. Why was he suddenly having such
lousy luck?
"Wonderful" replies Xie Meihua sarcastically, jumping off the edge. His feet hit the leaf-
covered ground with a heavy sound. "Stay here."
"Ah, little gongzi!" the owner of the cart grimaces in terror. "You can't put yourself in danger,
little gongzi! It's foolish, it's risky, it's...!"
Xie Meihua silences him with one of his worst looks. He knows he shouldn't: the man is only
concerned for his well-being, and probably if his father were there he wouldn't even have
offered to fight. But he wants to get home. All he wants is to get once and for all to a home
he doesn't yet know.
The owner of the cart falls silent after a muffled sound.
Behind him, Xie Meihua hears another pair of feet fall from the cart.
"Didi has two swords" mentions San Lang. Standing up they are almost the same height. Xie
Meihua is surprised to notice himself a few inches shorter than he is, used to just standing
next to his father quite a bit shorter than his own height. "Does didi fighting technique require
two swords or can you give this San Lang one?"
Xie Meihua extends one of his swords towards San Lang. He accepts it with a warm smile.
"They are short" San Lang notes. Xie Meihua feels an embarrassed blush creep up his face
and is about to retort, when San Lang says: "That's good. Long swords don't favour my
technique."
"No?" he asks, suddenly astonished. "Long swords always throw me off balance. Fighting at
a shorter distance is easier for me."
San Lang smiles so broadly that Xie Meihua takes a step back.
"Also for me."

Xie Meihua holds tightly to the sword. It feels comfortable in his hand, heavy and he holds it
firmly. His steps are firm as he approaches the ghosts, whose heads in his hands converse
with an insane fluidity.
He has nowhere to hide. He can only fight.
San Lang follows in his footsteps with the same determination.
"Has San Lang fought ghosts before?" asks Xie Meihua as the two stand side by side with
their respective swords. The man's grip on the hilt is firm.
"Ever," replies San Lang vaguely. "Did didi ever?"
"Only once" he admits, but when the ghosts scream lunging towards them, he pushes the fear
behind him and stomps forward with determination.
He doesn't have to protect his father nor is he terrified of his whereabouts or his safety. His
own energy is in order within his own body. His head does not wander into the madness of
protecting him, and fear does not drench him. They are ghosts with clumsy steps, scrawny
bodies and heads more malicious than capable of harm. Xie Meihua wants to get home, and
that's what he thinks as he allows his sword to plunge into the first ghost that lunges straight
at him. Thick, dark blood spurts to the side, splattering the eyes of the ghost running past
him.
San Lang kicks almost amusingly at the legs of one of the ghosts, sending it crumbling to the
ground, plunging his own sword into the screaming head between the ghost's hands.
"Does didi know how to disperse ghosts?" asks San Lang rather casually, as if he's not
wielding a sword against a ghost that seems intent on biting him.
Xie Meihua shakes his head.
"I'm afraid my Taoist knowledge is limited" he almost apologises as he slides the blade of his
sword down the arm of the next ghost that lunges to attack him. The arm falls along with the
head and Xie Meihua fiercely kicks it away from his grasp. "Then, if San Lang knows, I
would like to learn."
San Lang teaches him. He utters the spell and the sword is drenched in spiritual energy; Xie
Meihua can feel it, cold and silvery, and for an instant he is absolutely certain that it is the
same energy as the silver butterflies.
Then, fast enough so that he cannot dwell on that thought, San Lang stabs the ghost under his
foot, which shrieks as it explodes.
"He will return" San Lang explains "because we haven't destroyed his ashes. However, it
won't bother for now."
Xie Meihua imitates the spell. They are simple words, and as he feels his energy flow
through the sword he pushes it against the place where the heart of the next ghost should be,
who runs towards him, screeching, wanting to claw at his face with his free hand. His hand is
inches from his face as the sword plunges down and, an instant later, the ghost explodes in
exactly the same way as San Lang's.
"Well done" San Lang compliments. Xie Meihua turns his face to him with a broad smile.
"San Lang is a good teacher!" he returns the compliment, launching himself with much more
confidence. His sword is soaked with spiritual energy: his own yin energy moves freely in his
body with no yan energy corroding his senses. He is thankful he took several scrolls that
spoke of it among his luggage: if he is to remain a God for any length of time he needs to get
fully up to speed on how to make yan energy work in a way that doesn't cripple him.
San Lang makes a sound that sounds more like amusement than thanks before shoving
another ghost straight towards Xie Meihua's sword. Another, and another, and another, the
ghosts fall in bursts, scattering.
He has barely broken a sweat when none of them are left in the way.
"Little gongzi, daozhang!" the owner of the cart seems close to bursting into tears as the two
approach. Even with a totally terrified expression, his eyes look grateful. "You have saved
me, you have saved my life, thank you so much!"
"You don't have th-...!" starts to say Xie Meihua but, almost cheekily, San Lang gives a firm
squeeze on his shoulder attracting his attention.
"You may pay your respect and thanks with incense and offerings at the Temple of His
Midnight Highness" says San Lang. The adoration in his voice as he speaks about the God
burns Xie Meihua, wanting to turn away and hide from the blush that climbs up his neck and
cheeks. "He is the Protector God of the Roads, the Travellers and the Common People."
Xie Meihua's ears burn as he wriggles out of his grip.
"I don't think that's necessary" he is stubborn.
San Lang directs an amused smile at him.
"Of course it is."
Xie Meihua scurries behind the cart to hide among the stacked straw with a face as red as his
robes.
Chapter End Notes
XMH: *ready to be teased for using short swords*

HC: Actually, short swords favour my technique-
XMH: *crying internally in acceptance and validation*
Also:
HC: *thinking* Surely Dianxia's son's fighting technique is fast, smart and elegant, just
like Dianxia's, and...
HMX: *uses a dirty fighting melee technique*
HC: ... I'll give Dianxia's son a saber or a scimitar, he'll make better use of it
I loved writing this chapter! Fight scenes aren't my best, but I really enjoyed writing this
one! It was dynamic, fun and joyful to develop the father-who-didn't-know-he-had-a-
son-and-son bond!
THANK YOU VERY MUCH FOR READING AS ALWAYS! See you in the next
chapter sweetheart! <3
The Temple of His Midnight Highness
Chapter Summary
After a long journey, Xie Meihua and San Lang are reunited with Xie Lian.
Chapter Notes
*guess who's back back again playing in the background* MY LAPTOP IS GOOD
AGAIN, INCENSE FOR HUALIAN
i'm going through this moment in my life called depression relapse lmao it's hard for me
to even move, but hey, i've written to chapter 28 of this and it's the only thing generating
serotonin in my head lately, besides writing loose bits of later chapters that i really didn't
want to forget
anyway, since my relapse i'm telling you (in case you needed to be told) you are loved,
you are someone important, and even if you don't believe it, i love you just for reading
this. you literally make my life useful. thank you honey
writing and editing this chapter was an explosion of emotions that i can't quite
understand, so i hope you like it <3
The rest of the journey continues quietly. Xie Meihua is too embarrassed to say more, and
San Lang carefully wipes the blade of his sword before handing it back to him. He returns it
to his sheath and the weight against his hip feels even more comfortable than before, as if the
residual spiritual energy in the weapon settles comfortably against him, acknowledging him.
The moon smiles in the sky as if satisfied by the spectacle of ghosts and swords, and the
clouds cover her, dragging her to a rest from so much battle. The warm wind rocks his hair as
Xie Meihua undoes the twisted braid to hold his hair up, much more comfortably.
"Is didi alright?" asks San Lang after a full incense time in which they both sink into a warm
silence. Xie Meihua nods his head.
"I'm not used to fighting ghosts, or fighting many people in general" is his explanation, which
is true. Even if he did throw himself in on his own before the ghosts were close enough to the
cart to imply damage, it's rare times he's had to actually fight beyond a couple of kicks and
wrestles with another slightly insane Alpha. And even they are not as scary as ghosts."It still
feels overwhelming."
"Didi has impeccable technique. Anyone would say he's an expert at it," San Lang
compliments him. The sound coming from Xie Meihua's throat is embarrassed, still reluctant
to receive praise from anyone but his father. Xie Lian has been the only person who has ever
wasted kind words on him in his entire life, and hearing them from someone else is almost
like exposing to lying to himself. "If didi doesn't fight ghosts often, what does he do for a
living?"
Xie Meihua gestures contemplatively.
"Various things," he says; he thinks and elaborates on the many things he has done with his
father to earn money throughout his teenage years: "Art and restoration, mostly. Sometimes I
carve some statues or paint some portraits for a few coins. It's very good at festival time. I
also pick up rubbish together with my... older brother.
Xie Meihua bites the inside of his cheek regretting the last minute hesitation. San Lang's eyes
on him are intense and curious.
"Didi has an older brother?" he asks. His voice seems to boil with curiosity, and a strange
shiver pushes down Xie Meihua's back.
"I have" he replies with a soft smile, relief spreading through his chest at the fact that San
Lang fell for the lie. It's not the first time he's had to pretend his father was his brother:
immortality was only prized in certain places, condemned as demonic and cursed in others.
"Our family name is Xie, and his name is Lian. He should be waiting for me at home."
San Lang's smile is much warmer.
"What is didi's home like?" he asks. He leans back on his hand looking at him and Xie
Meihua lets out a sigh.
"I don't know my home yet," he concedes. It's a truth he can tell, even if it's a half-truth. "We
were moving when I got a job... different. A-Lian had to move out on his own. We exchanged
correspondence to catch up on where I was supposed to look for him" the lies are quite fluent
from his mouth, without hesitation now that he's clinging to a story. And, technically, talking
to each other through the spiritual communication array is something like letters. He was
quite attached to the truth.
"And what would didi like his home to be like?" asks San Lang. The question catches him
almost off guard.
"Ah, anywhere where A-Lian has a space of his own to be comfortable is fine with me" is his
only reply. He has never been one to need his own spaces, or his own places. Xie Meihua has
always enjoyed sharing and companionship more than hoarding in a corner. "My gege is an
omega and hasn't had a comfortable nesting space in many years. Any place where he can
feel comfortable is a home for me."
San Lang's smile falters a little, just at the edges, but the friendly countenance is still there.
"Didi is very unselfish" says San Lang softly. His tone is rather more affectionate than Xie
Meihua would have expected. "And didi love his gege so much."
And that is not a question, but a statement.
"He's like a father to me" Xie Meihua smiles at the silly truth of those words. He really is his
father, though it's not something he can say to strangers without getting confused looks
because of the nearly identical age visible between them. Xie Lian really did raise him with
all his love, nurtured, fed and kept him healthy and strong. He played with him until sunset,
cleaned and healed his bruised knees, carried him on his back wrapped in robes and Ruoye,
both under a bamboo hat, as they scoured villages for rubbish and food. His whole world was
his father, and he wanted to provide him with the same care and comfort. Maybe one day he
could give it back to him. "It's always been the two of us against the world. There's never
been anyone else."
"In that case" San Lang's voice is a soft, warm tone that slides Xie Meihua like an
affectionate hug, "I'm so glad that you have each other."
Xie Meihua gives San Lang a warm smile.
"What about San Lang?" he asks. The man tilts his head, curious. A lock of black hair falls
from his ponytail, loose, sliding into the air. "He said he's the third in his family. How does
this San Lang's family is?"
San Lang gestures.
"There isn't a family anymore," he replies, and waves his hand before Xie Meihua can excuse
himself and pay his respects. "No problem with that now. It's been a while."
Even despite the last words of the conversation the silence doesn't feel tense. Xie Meihua
leans back against the straw stretching until the exhausted bones in his back let out a
satisfying crunch. San Lang mimics him and, for the time it takes them to reach Puqi Village,
the stars accompany them with stories and fates.
"We have arrived in Puqi" says the cart owner animatedly.
The cart stops a few moments after crossing the entrance to the village. Surrounded by water
chestnut trees, with leaves swirling along the damp earth and facing a river that borders the
way, the structure of a building rises on a firm base to their left. In front of the perfectly
repaired fence surrounding the cleared but still weed-ridden ground, Xie Meihua observes the
inscription on the wood in an elegant calligraphy he knows perfectly well:
"This temple is under construction. Benevolent people are welcome to donate in order to
help. Accumulate merit and virtue."
Xie Meihua's face burns.
This is not a humble house.

"Little gongzi, daozhang" says the owner of the cart as both Xie Meihua and San Lang alight
from inside. Xie Meihua carefully slides to the ground while San Lang jumps straight off the
edge, carrying a bag over his shoulder. His movements are much more ungainly and relaxed.
"Again, let me thank you. You have saved this old man's life..."
"Ah, it's nothing, it's nothing" Xie Meihua shakes his head repeatedly, going straight to the
man to offer him a respectful bow. "You've offered to bring me without receiving anything in
return, just out of your kindness. It's the least I could do, sir."
"And you can always offer your thanks in incense and offerings," San Lang continues to
insist. His smile is cold despite his tone that plays on the edges of what should be kind. "They
would be more appreciated."
"Ah, that's right, daozhang! I will, I will! It will be first thing tomorrow morning!"
The owner of the cart bids farewell with a few more thanks. He sets off on his journey again
and, during the moments between the moments when the rattling of the cart keeps slipping
away from his ears, Xie Meihua allows himself to sigh deeply.
It has been a hellishly long day.
"Is didi tired?" asks San Lang. Xie Meihua nods.
"San Lang must be too" he says, in return. "Do you have somewhere to go?"
A slight hesitation appears on his face. If Xie Meihua hadn't been staring at him, he would
barely have seen it. Finally San Lang shrugs his shoulders.
"I'll look for a clear place to stay. The night is warm, so I don't think I'll need a blanket."
Xie Meihua clicks his tongue.
"You can stay" he offers. "After all, it's what you came for, isn't it?"
San Lang's expression goes blank. It's as if he's suddenly seen a ghost, and an exceedingly
frightening one at that.
"What I've come for?" he asks. Xie Meihua smiles slightly.
"Weren't San Lang hired to carve a statue?" and points behind him to the temple under
construction. The wooden pillars could be more polished, the roof definitely looks like it will
blow off in a blizzard, and the gardens are overgrown with wild grasses. Yet they are the
foundations of a vast temple that seems newly built from the ground up on the site where a
small hut should have stood. Xie Meihua is sure that the military officers had a lot to do with
the work because, even if his father could advance construction alone, he could never have
done it so quickly on his own.
Still, all Xie Meihua knows is that this place will be his home.
And that he will go to great lengths to make the temple as unostentatious as possible, if his
father wants to offer him one so badly. It's not as if he needs it: his father's devotion is the
only energy that has nourished him as God since the moment he ascended.
San Lang's face relaxes completely.
"Of course," he says. His voice almost sounds like a purr, but he can sense relief in it. "But,
even if didi let me stay, what about didi's brother?"
Xie Meihua's smile spreads.
"Ah, A-Lian will surely be happy to offer you something to eat and something to drink" he
squints his eyes with some mischief knowing absolutely what that means. He slings his bag
over his shoulder, heading deeper into the temple grounds. San Lang follows him, mimicking
his movements, his own much better quality bag on his back. The small way has some
decorative stones, and Xie Meihua thinks they could plant a flowering tree on one side, and
maybe work on a waterwell. It's a good spot.
"Oh, yeah?" San Lang hums, almost pleased. He seems to understand that he is somehow
teasing him, so he teases back with an accurate, "It would be an honour for this San Lang to
be invited to eat at the temple of one of your Gods."
Xie Meihua does not let his embarrassment be visible this time. However, he lets his relief
and his smile spread when at last, behind a poorly tied old curtain that replaces the place
where a door should be, Xie Lian peeks out to see him with a smiling welcome.
There is the scent of burnt vegetables, tea and his father. Also of breeze, trees and fallen
leaves.
It smells like a home.
"Baobei!" his father's voice is a soft chant that draws him into his arms. It's warm as he
shelters his father against his chest, and his father quickly rubs his scent glands in a familiar
way, welcoming him. It's an instinctive act and so swift that Xie Meihua can barely notice
how lonely his father must have felt for that to be his first reaction.
In the moonlight and starlight, his father shines like a halo of light wrapped in white robes as
he stands hugging his body. Xie Meihua lets his hand rest reassuringly on his back, letting his
father soak in his scent and relax in his arms.
It's been a while away. A time he hopes will not be repeated.
"Welcome home."
Xie Meihua wants to cry. He wants to lean into him and hide in his embrace. He wants to tell
him that he missed him so much. He wants to tell him that he fought ghosts without getting
hurt, that he learned a spell very easily, and that he brought back gold and fresh fruit. He
wants to tell him that many treasures and ancient memories of Xianle still exist in the walls
of his golden palace in the skies, but all he says is:
"A TEMPLE!?"
His father lets out an overly gleeful laugh.
"A Temple for our God, His Midnight Highness, of course!"
Xie Meihua wants the ghosts to appear again and drag him underground. He won't object this
time. He will even give himself up and beg their forgiveness for hurting them before.
"Why that ridiculous name?" he groans, utterly ashamed. His father laughs when suddenly
his laughter is silenced. His eyes look over his shoulder and, utterly embarrassed, Xie Meihua
reminds himself that he has actually had company all this time.
San Lang has remained silent, watching them. Xie Meihua expects to see an uncomfortable
look on his face, the expression of someone who is suddenly seeing displays of affection that
he didn't ask to see and that clearly make him uncomfortable. Contrary to his thoughts, San
Lang watches them with a warm gaze that Xie Meihua is unable to comprehend.
He can tell that his face is totally relaxed, and he can tell that San Lang is happy. His scent
twists, carried on the wind, the scent of a cheerful alpha barely creeping close to his senses
before fading into the air so quickly that Xie Meihua might as well have imagined it.
Despite this, Xie Lian barely separates from his body. He takes the minimal distance and, on
his wrist, Xie Meihua notices that Ruoye is more tense than usual.
Even with someone seemingly harmless, his father's first instinct is to take care of him. This
reality makes his heart feel warm.
"A-Lian," he says, in what he tries to be a slightly more soothing voice. His father watches
him for a moment, and then his eyes return to San Lang, as if he can't tear his gaze away from
him. "Let me introduce you to San Lang. He was my traveling companion from the city down
the mountain, all the way here. Apparently he was hired by the military officials of Mount Yu
Jun to make a statue. He also helped me deal with some ghosts along the way. It's the Ghost
Festival."
His father's stiff pose relaxes a little.
"Ah, gods" his father sighs. "Are you all right, what happened?"
"Didi bravely jumped up to defend me" San Lang says; there's a low tone in his voice that
Xie Meihua doesn't quite manage to identify. "There was full of ghosts, and I was very
afraid."
The look Xie Meihua gives him is almost a mockery in itself. San Lang returns his gaze with
the same intent, getting the corners of Xie Meihua's lips to curl into an amused smile.
San Lang is ridiculously funny.
"San Lang was terrified" Xie Meihua scoffs. San Lang's look at him is almost a complaint.
Xie Meihua wants to scoff out loud, instead he rolls his eyes. Something in San Lang's face
twitches in displeasure at that gesture directed directly at him, which amuses Xie Meihua
even more. "Ah, A-Lian, I'm sorry I didn't consult you. I invited him to stay. San Lang had
nowhere to spend the night."
"Ah, poor San Lang" and finally his father leaves his side, moving a little closer towards the
man. He seems to examine him with curious eyes as Xie Meihua shifts the weight of his bag,
reminding himself of the fruit that must surely be squishing between bowls and scrolls. "So
scared. I'm so grateful you accompanying my didi home. My family name is Xie, my name is
Lian. It is an honour to meet you. Please feel welcome to stay."
"The honour belongs to this San Lang" he says, bowing in an overly respectful manner. Xie
Meihua notices him: the way he squares his shoulders, his head bowed, his hand over his
heart. San Lang is giving him a bow of sincere respect, exactly the kind of bow his father
deserves. "Sorry to intrude, I didn't even bring anything to thank gege for his kind welcome."
"Oh, don't worry about that!" says his father kindly. "All of A-Meihua's guests are my guests
too. In fact, I made dinner. Aren't you young boys hungry? Was a long way."
Xie Meihua spreads his smile so wide on his face it aches.
"I'm sure San Lang would enjoy a bowl of your soup. Its smell is even on the way!" he says,
which is true. The smell of burning vegetables slightly pollutes the air outside the temple,
much stronger than the incense, making it even unpleasant to less accustomed noses like Xie
Meihua's. "What's its name?" asks Xie Meihua, stepping inside the temple that will be his
home without further concern.
Through the curtain his father replies warmly:
"Family reunions."
Chapter End Notes
and FINALLY, FINALLY, FINALLY, FINALLY, our family reunion
of course xie lian would build a beautiful temple for his son, and of course we will have
domesticity and dallying hualian!
i really hope you liked the chapter! thank you so much as always for reading,
commenting, filling my life with light and joy and all the beautiful things that make life
worth living. thank you my darling
see you in the next chapter sweetheart! <3
ps: i've been writing two fanfics, you know, besides this one. just loose ideas. would you
be more interested in a beauty and the beast au hualian, or another hualian omegaverse,
but where out little banyue is changed to her baby form physically and mentally to cope
with all the trauma after banyue's arc, and xie lian is definitely going to keep her as his
daughter (and hua cheng is definitely adopting her too)? please tell me which idea you'd
like to read more about! i'll devote more time to it as a side project. it helps keep my
mind calm <3
Family reunions
Chapter Summary
While watching San Lang and Xie Lian together, Xie Meihua has a small revelation.
Chapter Notes
The university said to me: good morning bitch, here's your whole week of introductions
and forced socialization, and I said yes mommy, sorry mommy
BUT I AM ALREADY WITH YOU depressed and devastated but never defeated
Thank you so much for each beautiful comment! I have treasured them and read them in
the middle of class (literally, it has been my source of serotonin) seriously, thank you,
thank you so much! <3
Xie Lian leads them through the temple on a quick tour, proudly showing off the roof over
his head. There is a table in the centre, with no idol yet, but full of offerings: fresh fruit,
incense, steamed buns and flowers in woven baskets. Xie Lian adds the fresh fruit that Xie
Meihua has just brought directly to the offerings.
The small makeshift kitchen is stacked in a corner next to the knick-knacks collected by his
father in those days, and two frames point to two rooms towards the back. There are no doors
in them either, just cloth curtains hung to the floor. Rickety, mismatched furniture in very
different sets of wood is a decoration, completely empty at the moment, but giving Xie
Meihua the comfortable feeling of home.
It has always been like this, and it would always be like this. Surrounded by mismatched
things, furniture repaired with love and effort: luxuries had never been necessary in his life,
nor would they be, as long as he had his father by his side.
Even in spite of everything, his father looks nervous.
Xie Lian explains briefly: "Ah, there used to be a small house here where people used to stay
sometimes. However, the military officials insisted on destroying it and wouldn't let me stop
them, even though it was perfect for me to stay in! They said its structure was weak and
unstable, and considered it too small for a temple. They helped me build the structures from
scratch, and reorganised it so that we could live here while the construction progressed.
Although there are still many things missing, ah... These rooms are to be a library and an arts
studio, and at the back of the temple, construction has yet to begin so that there will be a
good kitchen and the actual rooms..."
"A-Lian, its perfect" says Xie Meihua interrupting his father's nervous verbiage. There is a
roof over their heads and comfortable straw mats to sleep on. There's a place for his father to
be safe, and while it would take a while to get him quality pillows and robes, as it is, its
home.
It's more than perfect.
"If I may offer an opinion, it's a wonderful home" agrees San Lang in a deep, grateful voice.
There is something glowing there when he speaks, something warm, and Xie Meihua nods
approvingly. "May I offer my help in the construction? I'm sure there will be wood left
behind the statue. I can also enlist the help of some acquaintances for the construction of the
outer walls."
"All help is welcome!" his father accepts.
Xie Meihua lets them talk; they exchange ideas (or, rather, his father talks too much in an
almost nervous manner and San Lang makes warm remarks, soft replies and small sentences
giving decorating and organisational tips) and their talk goes so smoothly and naturally that
something inside him stirs. It's so nice that his father has someone other than himself to talk
to.
He walks around the small house familiarising himself with the details, taking in the familiar
scent of home: it smells of his father, of ruined food and fresh wind. The walls are more
stable than they appear at first glance, and the furniture is as old and shabby as they look. He
will enjoy polishing and repair them.
And, sooner rather than later, they are comfortably seated at the table. The four chairs are
uneven, but at least they all have four stable legs. Xie Lian fills soup bowls for all of them;
the colour is a thick green, and the vegetable pieces float black as coals. There are chunks of
suspicious purple and, unexpectedly, some too-white ones floating in uneven sizes all over
the consistency.
Xie Lian looks proud of himself as he takes a seat with his own bowl. San Lang is the first to
take the first sip and Xie Meihua's corners are already lifting, ready to mock him when he
coughs and pushes the bowl away as if it has poison in it.
San Lang doesn't, however. He swallows and when he puts the bowl down, he licks his lips as
if he has just tasted the most delicious delicacy in the three realms. He looks like a pleased
fox licking his lips after having tasted a delicacy.
"Gege, this is delicious!" he says, totally and utterly animated. Xie Meihua doesn't miss how
his father's ears redden with embarrassment, just as his own always do. His own jaw feels
perhaps a little slack and it takes sheer willpower not to stand there with his mouth hanging
open in amazement.
San Lang eats with real joy. He really enjoys the food he is putting in his mouth. He really
eats. Without dying of poisoning or hallucinating.
"Ah, is that so?" says his father, also completely surprised by the answer. San Lang nods
repeatedly before taking another sip and starting to hunt down the burnt vegetables with the
spoon.
Xie Meihua doesn't hold back: he lets out a chuckle.
"Sorry, sorry!" he apologises to Xie Lian's gaze, who obviously has an implied scolding in it
for being impolite. If they were alone, the scolding would be verbal, but Xie Lian must be
really angry to verbally scold him in front of strangers. It has only happened a couple of
times in the past and, each time, it was always because Xie Meihua had put himself in danger
by getting in the way of fights or fighting with other Alphas who were too dumb and
shameless. The only time where he actually scolded him in public was when he was thirteen,
and Xie Meihua hadn't even dared to think about it in years.
"Nobody likes A-Lian's food" he is quick to explain. The last thing he wants to do is offend
San Lang. "I was just surprised, that's all. I'm sorry, San Lang."
"Gege's food is delicious. You can tell all your effort and dedication in it" says San Lang with
what Xie Meihua can understand is full sincerity. His eyes sparkle, delighted, and the soft
smile lingers there with a familiar warmth. "It's been a while since this San Lang has tasted
home-cooked food made with such loving care."
He wonders if the man's taste buds are flawed, or if perhaps the food was so bad that it
completely damaged his senses. He try to take a sip of his own soup, and the taste echoes
through his mouth with not exactly pleasant bursts. It tastes both raw and burnt and swampy,
and Xie Meihua shakes his head slightly as he holds his own spoon, swallowing with perhaps
a little more reluctance than usual after eating fresh fruit straight down from the Heavens.
He may hate them and he may hate almost all the Gods, but he has to agree that they have
very good food. And delicious tea. He must have stolen some from Ling Wen's stash before
he left.
"San Lang is very kind" his father keeps saying. There is still surprise in his voice; even if
Xie Meihua has made sure that no one who approaches them is rude to his father, he knows
that Xie Lian has been treated too badly and the kindness still overwhelms him. Oblivious to
this, San Lang eats a charred vegetable before saying:
"However, if gege takes advice, perhaps cut the vegetables more evenly? Some of them
haven't finished cooking."
Xie Meihua doesn't know whether to laugh or cry as he tastes a piece of vegetable disguised
as a charred stone. It's completely raw inside as he bites into it and crumbles it between his
teeth. Ah, well, that's good. He's sure that San Lang should be really hungry if after all he so
enjoys a soup that can be presented as a good chef's nightmare. Maybe he should have
offered him some fruit in the cart, but apart from caring too much about his father and
worrying about people who need help, Xie Meihua doesn’t consider himself to be altruistic.
And San Lang hadn't seemed like a poor, starving child in need of help either, after all. If he
had been, it would have been a different story.
"I'll keep that in mind for next time" his father says warmly. Something in his voice makes
Xie Meihua look at him with a finely raised eyebrow, curious. His father doesn’t return his
gaze, eyes fixed on San Lang. Xie Meihua's mind lingers on the pleased tone in which his
father speaks, analysing him so slowly that he can feel as if time has stopped for the span of a
heartbeat. There is a pink shade on Xie Lian's cheeks and his ears, behind the long locks of
dark hair, are flushed. "Thank you very much, San Lang."
San Lang's gaze on Xie Lian is both rapt and spellbound as Xie Lian utters his name. Xie
Meihua finishes his soup in several rather long gulps as quickly as he can and scrapes the last
bits of burnt vegetables from the bottom of the bowl, scooping them into his mouth with
speed, suddenly desperate to leave the table.
San Lang genuinely enjoys the food his father cooks, as absolutely insane as that sounds, he
does. For a moment, Xie Meihua is unable to stop noticing the little details about San Lang:
he is hardworking, he is artistic, he is kind, he is able to fight, he is cultured, he is eloquent,
he is funny, and most importantly, he is respectful.
Suddenly, San Lang looks like someone who could make his father very happy indeed.
Xie Meihua knows he promised long ago that he wouldn't do that anymore, but... such an
opportunity doesn't come along every night.
"Ah, I'm really tired" he says, yawning falsely. Actually he is, but the yawn is fake: since he
ascended to divinity, his body has been able to feel the physical and mental exhaustion, but
some things like hunger or sleep were more distant and much less noticeable. His body had
adapted to divinity better than he had, it seemed. "A-Lian, can you tell me if my room is the
right or left room? And I'm afraid San Lang and A-Lian will have to share the rest of dinner
together!"
Xie Lian's gaze on him is as deep and stern as if he is actually verbally scolding him. He can
almost see the way his father comes to the conclusion that he is setting him up, and he can
almost hear his disappointed words about his impulsive and disrespectful behaviour. His eyes
are so deep and serious that he almost takes back his words.
The last time Xie Lian had looked at him like that was because Xie Meihua had managed to
set him up in a date with the head of a demonic cultivation sect. The young man was really
smart, skilled and had such a respect for omegas that his entire cultivation sect was based on
protecting them and making them stronger, more capable of protecting and fending for
themselves through cultivation and martial arts. Xie Meihua had met him after a fight in
which he had healed his wounds, and the Alpha had taught him a few things about the sword
(which Xie Meihua already knew, but the man had been kind about his behaviour and didn't
want to make him feel inferior). He had also shown himself to be polite when Xie Lian came
looking for him, not asking awkward questions and treating him as an equal.
Xie Meihua mistakenly believed that his father might accept a date with the alpha under false
pretences. Mistakenly, of course.
His father had not spoken to him for a whole day after the disastrous deceptive date, in his
own words, to avoid saying things he would regret if he was not sufficiently in control. He
didn't want to hurt him, he didn't want to yell at him, but he needed to talk about it when he
managed to calm his temper. Then, much calmer, he had made him apologise and write in his
disastrous handwriting an apology to the sect head, telling him that it had all been a
misunderstanding on his part and that Xie Lian was not at all interested, though he
appreciated the alpha's interest and wished him luck in finding a partner.
His father had not shown himself to be angry despite his warnings and chastising silence, but
something far worse: disappointed.
Xie Meihua had not tried anything since then; it had been a whole year since then. It had been
the only time he had been so bold as to directly arrange a date for his father, and the last time
he had tried to insist that he spend more time looking for a partner.
However...
"Left" replies Xie Lian in a voice so cold that Xie Meihua immediately regrets his words.
They are devoid of the warmth from moments before, and just looking at his father's serious
eyes makes his shiver. "However, Xie Meihua, you and I will have a serious talk tomorrow.
It's not polite to get up from the table and leave to rest so hastily, much less leaving the guest
you yourself brought without a host."
Xie Meihua smiles a little nervously, though tensely; he knows it's just an excuse to justify
the threat of a scolding that's going to make him feel bad about his actions. It has always been
easier for him to ask for forgiveness than permission, and this fact applied to everything.
From staying out late to getting into fights with peasant Alphas who needed a good
humbling.
"It's just that A-Lian, I'm so tired" he complains; he purposely lets his voice sound more
childish for a bit of sympathy, and this causes San Lang's smile to curve. There is no mockery
there, contrary to what he thinks, but a genuine smile on his lips, as if he is witnessing
something wonderful to see. Xie Meihua doesn't think that a teenager throwing something
similar to a tantrum can be a wonderful thing to watch, but San Lang has proven to be too
much of a weirdo. "Please?"
"Don't worry about me" San Lang concedes. Xie Lian watches him with a lopsided smile, all
his attention captured by him again like a moth going towards the light. And obviously Xie
Meihua isn't going to let that be ignored just because of his presence in the middle: he's never
seen his father really look at someone, really look at them, like they're someone worth
looking at. He's not going to let that be miss or ignored. "Didi has already done so much for
me, protecting me from those horrible ghosts and entertaining me with wonderful
conversation for much of the journey. The least this San Lang can do is let didi go to rest."
"All right" Xie Lian agrees, a hesitation later. He drinks his own soup from his bowl before
telling him, in a stern voice: "But wash your bowl first."
Xie Meihua does so. He loads water and carves the clay bowl until all the smudges of smut
left by the burnt vegetables on it disappear. The kitchen is not too far from the table, but even
so, when his father speaks his voice seems far away and low:
"Ah, San Lang, I'm sorry. A-Meihua is not usually this bad a host when we have had other
visitors in the past. Let me apologise on his behalf."
"Gege, you don't have to worry about that. I'm sure didi is terribly exhausted after this long
journey" his voice is soft and much harder to understand, but he can catch all the words. Also
the warm softness in them. "Besides, gege is a wonderful host in his own right. I couldn't feel
more welcome."
"Is that so?" asks his father. Xie Meihua leaves his freshly washed clay bowl and spoon on
the side of the kitchen, by the window, to dry. His hands shake a little.
"Of course. This San Lang hasn't felt so welcome in a home for a long time."
"Then I am very glad. San Lang is welcome to stay as long as he finds it necessary."
Xie Meihua directs a respectful bow to them. He bites the inside of his cheeks just to keep
from grinning like an idiot. Even his father sounds like one of those delusional young men
with a new love! How is he supposed to just interfere with that?
"Goodnight A-Lian, San Lang," he says goodnight, trying to sound as unemotional and as
gentle as he can. "Rest well."
He grabs his bag laden with gold plates and scrolls with stories of Hua Cheng and scurries
away before his father's gaze makes him dread the scolding that dawn will bring, and perhaps
the exaggerated work taking care of the firewood or pulling weeds in the garden with his bare
hands as punishment for his impudence.
Just because Xie Meihua wants to find Hua Cheng - just to meet him, just to learn from him,
just to complete that part of himself that was nothing like Xianle's blood and seek a why, an
origin, an answer - does not mean that he wants his father to end up in the arms of a man
who, surely, already had a beloved as Xie Lian had told Mu Qing and Feng Xin that night at
Nan Yang Temple.
From the moment Hua Cheng had a beloved, Xie Meihua would not even bother to involve
Xie Lian in the matter. Hua Cheng was his father, and that was all. He had no reason to
interfere beyond knowing him, and there was no scenario in his mind where he would put
Xie Lian together with Hua Cheng beyond simple recognition. If Hua Cheng loved someone,
it would keep his father from pain.
His father deserved exclusivity and adoration.
Over dinner, the more words San Lang spoke in a rapt voice, and the more he looked at his
father with the warmth of his eyes glittering like stars forming constellations of romantic
stories, the more Xie Meihua was increasingly certain that San Lang could provide all that
adoration for his father.
And, if he was less than kind, it would not be the first or the last time Ruoye would be happy
to tie up and try to hang an Alpha with little reasoning and little regard for his own life.
Chapter End Notes
Meihua: I will respect my father's decision space about choosing to have a relationship
Meihua, also: BUT SAN LANG IS GOOD HUSBAND MATERIAL FOR MY
FATHER, OK? YOU CAN'T JUDGE ME
And:
San Lang: *eating the gege soup* Is this the taste of home?
Xie Lian: *watching San Lang eat his soup* Ah, he's not dead. He definitely has to be a
ghost
AH, THANK YOU VERY MUCH FOR READING! I'm really sorry for the delay,
seriously my university decided that overdemanding was a way to overcompensate for
the lousy admin lol
This chapter also went through a lot of changes, ah! I edited it about 14, 15 times? I
wasn't at all sure how it was turning out, but in the end I decided on this conversation.
For what it's worth, among the other conversations our family talked about Gods, Puqi
townsfolk, more teasing at the expense of His Midnight Highness, and of course, "what
are two brothers doing devoted to the worship of a newfound God?" and a false story
full of truth
Actually none of those conversations would change much of the chapters to come
(already written lmao), but Xie Meihua wanting his father and San Lang to unite
because he sees San Lang's obvious worship ended up being my best way
As always, THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING! I appreciate every comment,

every kudo and every read. And if you're curious to know the shit I think about this fic
or TGCF in general, I'm almost always on my twitter @xiao_beihua
See you in the next chapter sweetie! <3
On the night of the Ghost Festival
Chapter Summary
Xie Lian has a pleasant evening with his guest.
Chapter Notes
LOOK, I'd really want a decent excuse other than "college sucked the life out of me",
but no, I don't have a more interesting excuse than that, SORRY
In other news from next chapter onwards we will have BETA READING, THANK
YOU SO MUCH RED
And as always, blessed dianxia, THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING,

COMMENTING AND THE KUDOS, THEY DRIVE ME CRAZY, MY LIFE MAKES
SENSE THANKS TO YOU, THANKS
Xie Lian remembers the last time he was ambushed by his son to try to get him a partner.
However, because of how badly Xie Meihua needed their approval, he had believed that this
event would never happen again.
San Lang smiles so warmly at him that the bones inside Xie Lian feel different.
Well, this ambush is sudden, risky, stupid and absolutely unprepared. Xie Lian is sure that his
son is not someone foolish enough to bring an Alpha to his new home with such intentions
alone, and on top of everything else, he is sure that his son loves him. He adores him, and
would never put him in the slightest danger.
Something must have changed at the last second.
San Lang must have done or said something that made his son's mind turn so dizzyingly as to
end up in this risky attempt to get them together. But what was it? San Lang had only been
absolutely polite since he had entered, totally polite, had even eaten his food. Xie Lian didn't
find anything abnormal about the young man's kindness: he was in an unfamiliar house as a
guest, the least he could be was polite.
"Is gege thinking about something?" asks San Lang. He is eating the final remnants of his
soup and Xie Lian mimics him.
"Only about A-Meihua" he replies simply. "He looked exhausted. How come you fought with
ghosts?" he asks, returning to a topic he had wanted to ask him. His son had rarely
volunteered to go draw swords against something dangerous, so why had he suddenly shown
such a level of courage?
Did he want to impress San Lang? Or seek his admiration? That sounded like something
slightly likely that, he knew, his son would never admit on his own. Many times in the past
Xie Meihua had acted impulsively just to impress Xie Lian, but he had never sought to
impress anyone else. That was a curious point to note.
"Just a few headless prisoners" San Lang explains rather nonchalantly. He doesn't look the
least bit frightened. "They were on the road and ran to attack us. Didi was already there,
ready to defend our carrier and me on his own, but I asked him if he could lend me one of his
swords. Didi was willing to do so and we fought back to back."
The image gets a smile on Xie Lian's face. Both boys dressed in red with long black hair and
bold eyes wielding swords against clumsy ghosts. It would have been lovely to watch in other
circumstances.
Maybe he can convince them to spar together.
"Ah, San Lang was brave too" he notes with a smile. San Lang's expression is completely
pleased. "Do you have any experience fighting ghosts if you so kindly offered to help A-
Meihua?"
"Some I have" replies San Lang, almost amused by this fact. "This San Lang has to move
around quite often in his work. It's natural for ghosts to be annoying on the road, sometimes."
"San Lang's work must be arduous, then" Xie Lian finishes his soup. He reaches out his hand
towards San Lang's bowl, empty, but soon San Lang is holding both bowls and spoons in his
hands.
"Gege, let me take care of that" he quickly offers.
"San Lang, you're a guest..."
"But gege cooked" San Lang's smile shows a bit of his teeth, two small, slightly sharper fangs
glinting in his smile. He should look dangerous, but he's warm, playful and wild, and Xie
Lian doesn't know why his face feels so hot or his bones feel liquid. "It's the least this San
Lang can do."
And he does. Xie Lian follows him and watches him imitate his son's actions as he washes
his bowl. He wash carefully and slowly with long-fingered deft hands, and Xie Lian notices
that he is paying too much attention to his hands and the way the fingers move, silently,
before looking away from him and into the scenery behind the window. His ears burn.
There's tall grass and fireflies outside.

"All set, gege" San Lang says almost softly, almost affectionately, and Xie Lian snaps back to
reality. "Can this San Lang start working now?"
"Ah, San Lang" Xie Lian shakes his head repeatedly. He's supposed to be his guest at that
moment! San Lang shouldn't be trying so hard. "It's very late at night. You shouldn't stay up
all night working. The statue can wait, you need a good night's rest."
"If gege says so" San Lang's tone of voice is much softer. Xie Lian raises his head to look at
him at the same moment San Lang takes a step forward. His eyes are warm, soft and on him
with a level of... affect? That Xie Lian doesn't quite understand.
Who really is this San Lang?
His face is on fire as Xie Lian turns away.
"However" he says, trying not to make his voice sound strangled with embarrassment. "If San
Lang has some examples of his artwork, I'd like to see them."
That seems like a good way to go. A less embarrassing one than looking too much at San
Lang.
"Of course" says San Lang humbly. They return to the table and San Lang reaches into his
own bag, leaving several scrolls on the table. Xie Lian notices materials, both art and
sculpture, being neatly arranged at the bottom of the bag. The scrolls he leaves on the table
soon catch his attention.
"San Lang, this is..."
There are exquisite little works of art on each scroll. The most beautiful landscapes, the most
dazzling sunsets, the structures of a city of narrow streets lined with lanterns. Landscape
artworks give way to portraits, human figures dripping in ink with an artistic precision and
delicacy that makes he fall silent.
There is a portrait of a sallow-skinned, sunken-eyed young man with long black hair falling
down either side of his face; another portrait of a pretty but nondescript young man with a
small beauty mark under his eye. A beautifully aged woman in middle age with large eyes
and wide, very dark lips. The unfamiliar faces unfold before him with a precision and fluidity
that dulls his senses. Some faces are not repeated, remaining a fleeting sketch across the
pages; others, on the other hand, are repeated with different expressions and emotions. The
only one who seems to enjoy being portrayed is the woman of graceful adult beauty.
She has smiles, gestures, frowns, even sweet fruit sticks in her hand. Another face that is
repeated so often is that of the pretty young man with the beauty mark under his eye, even
though he is particularly expressionless.
The portraits are so detailed that Xie Lian can almost see the emotions there. He sees bored
eyes, tense shoulders, curious glances, annoyed eyebrows. He sees emotions bursting behind
faces eternalized in the scrolls, and all he can say is: "San Lang, this is... all too beautiful."
"Is it?" asks San Lang. Xie Lian raises his head, ready to reproach him for ask for
compliments, but he seems genuinely yearning for validation. He doesn't really seem to be
aware of how his art touches his heart. "This San Lang is an idler. He spends a lot of time
drawing, so he's used to his own strokes."
"San Lang is the best artist I have ever met in my entire life” Xie Lian sincerely compliments,
because he is. He admires his elegant technique, his smoothness, his shading, the way
everything is enhanced in its perfect place, and the words burst from his lips before he knows
it. "When San Lang finishes carving the statue, if he needs work, he can give A-Meihua
lessons. It will be very well paid."
Even if he doesn't know where he'll get the money, he'll pay for them. He has to.
His son is an natural born artist. He has carved busts, painted portraits, and worked on crafts
that Xie Lian can only admire from afar, afraid to ruin them with his touch alone. But one
thing is certain: he has never been able to afford a tutor. Every tree that Xie Meihua learned
to draw he did on his own. Every animal, every detail, every shadow and every volume was
learned by trial, error, frustration and self-taught effort. Even with tears.
A tutor would help his art so much and so quickly that Xie Lian can feel his chest swell with
pride.
"If gege is willing, this one would be perfectly happy to teach didi" says San Lang, and his
tone is so gentle, as if he is caressing the surface of the moment with trembling hands, that
Xie Lian peels his eyes away from the portraits to look at him.
There is wariness there.
"San Lang isn't sure?" he asks. San Lang quickly denies.
"This San Lang has never taught anyone to draw" he says with cautious softness. "This one
probably can't do more than superficial critiques and corrections."
"That's good enough. A-Meihua has a very good self-taught bases, so corrections will be
fine" agrees Xie Lian. He stacks all the works with the purest of care. "Ah, San Lang is an
admirable artist. I am honoured to be able to have his art in the temple of His Midnight
Highness."
A smile pushes his lips. He hadn't really expected it when the military officers guide him to
Puqi Village (after a bad fight full of shouting and tears at Nan Yang Temple that Xie Lian is
unwilling to recall at the time) telling him about the God Surrounded by Stars. The titles
piled on top of each other as the discussion progressed: The God Surrounded by Stars, His
Highness Crowned by Stars, His Midnight Highness... With his face washed and dressed in
his humble white cultivator robes, probably none of them had had the slightest idea that Xie
Lian, to whom they told the stories, was from the same fake bride inside the palanquin, and
Xie Lian hadn't had the thick face to tell them.
Instead, he listened.
He hadn't been able to talk to his son about what had happened in the forest, and his curiosity
was bursting to know the details. Was it true or an exaggeration? Had his son really sprouted
stars from himself that attacked the beasts? Was that even possible?
In all his life, he had never met a God who could do that.
Was it some spell, or some kind of elemental magic? Where had he learned it?
He had been tempted many times to communicate with him through the private spiritual
communication array to get the doubts out of his mind but decided it had to be something
they talked about in person. Now the conversation seemed postponed by his guest, but his
curiosity is there, alive like a flame stirring against his heart.
"… I can draw, if gege like."
"Oh?" Xie Lian is torn from his thoughts. "Draw a...?"
"Gege" San Lang's smile remains there. It’s warm. There is no trace of mockery as he says it.
His eyes, on him, are so intense that Xie Lian's stomach twists. His palms itch and his heart
flutters, racing. "I enjoy drawing portraits."
"Oh" Xie Lian feels his face burn. Is he ever going to stop blushing during this overnight?
What is San Lang going to think of him, blushing like a fool all the time? But he can't help it!
"I'm afraid I wouldn't have anything to repay you with right now, San Lang."
"That's all right," San Lang tilts his face, smiling in a very jovial and carefree way. "This San
Lang will do it for the love of art. Gege deserves to be portrayed. Maybe under the
moonlight?"
Xie Lian has no idea why he lets himself be persuaded, or how. It is absolutely easy to give in
to San Lang's requests. Suddenly he is sitting outside on a log they must cut for firewood, the
warm air caresses his cheeks and the moon above them is bright, providing San Lang with a
delicate white illumination.
"I won't be long" says San Lang. "It will be just a sketch. Gege doesn't have to worry about
me trying too hard."
He has no ink or brush. The only thing he holds in his hands are elongated sticks that stain his
fingertips black, similar to charcoal. Then San Lang begins to draw.
It is hypnotic to watch. San Lang watches him as if he is soaking in his image, filling his
senses with everything that Xie Lian depicts in front of him. His gaze is so intense that Xie
Lian finds it hard to hold it, but when he pushes it away, he is scolded with a simple, "Gege,
the drawing" and looks at it again. Then, when San Lang seems to memorise his image
perfectly, he slides his gaze to the flat scroll on his legs and begins to scribble.
Xie Lian does not see exactly what San Lang is drawing. The night is silent and warm, and
the moon bathes them in a smooth light making the atmosphere delicate, ethereal. San Lang
strokes the parchment carefully, wipes dirty edges with crumpled paper, and carves his
fingers against the paper making shadows. His hands move over the parchment as if, instead
of drawing, he is carving the image on it.
Abruptly, Xie Lian feels adored.
The silence that surrounds them is not quite silence. Xie Lian is fully aware of his own
heartbeat, of his breathing forced to sound normal. He is aware of the dragging of the
charcoals on the parchment, and the rustle of the trees swaying in the night. He is aware of
San Lang watching him as if worshipping him as he slides the charcoal sticks over the scroll,
and when he strokes the paper, it is so softly that Xie Lian feels he is caressing his face.
Just as intensely as he begins, he finishes.
"Ready, gege."
Xie Lian lets out a deep breath he hadn't been aware of holding. He shifts his shoulders a
little, releasing himself from the intense tension that was building there. He is barely trying to
stand up when San Lang is already walking towards him, sitting down next to him, showing
him the scroll.
Xie Lian is speechless. It's his face, he's sure it is: it's like looking into a mirror, because he
sees his nose, the angle of his face, his forehead and the relaxed curve of his own lips. He
sees himself... but he doesn't see himself at the same time.
The young man on the parchment is beautiful. He is delicate in every faction, he is soft as a
petal and strong as a sword. His eyes are two deep wells of warm affection, his eyebrows are
slightly raised with expectation. His hair falls down and behind his back, spilling like
waterfalls over his shoulders, and Xie Lian feels....
He feels appreciated.
"San Lang, this is..."
"Gege doesn't like it?" the voice of San Lang is suddenly anxious. "This San Lang can break
it and make another one, don't worry about..."
"San Lang, it's gorgeous! I thank you so much! It's so beautiful!" his own voice sounds too
high-pitched, and when San Lang looks him in the eyes, Xie Lian tries to make his voice
sound a little less affected. "I was just trying to... To understand. San Lang is an amazing
artist. I can't believe he made such a magnificent work of art with this simple face."
"This artist sticks to the reality that his eyes see" San Lang says slowly. His voice is a caress
straight to his heart, and his ears burn with grief. "Gege is anything but a simple face."
"Ah, San Lang, don't tease" Xie Lian stands up before doing something crazy. San Lang is
too close to him, and his scent is... warm.
He smells like flowers.

Why do flowers chase him all the time? It's as if something in the flower-filled pheromones is
driving his head crazy, destroying his senses and trying to pull his omega out of the corner
where Xie Lian had him hidden from everyone, including himself. If he had stayed there a
moment longer, he probably would have let himself sink his nose in and inhaled it directly
from his neck.
He tries to push those racing, dramatic thoughts out of his head. He needs to focus.
"You've made a magnificent work of art, though," he says, seeking control over his shocked
voice. "I still don't have anything to pay you with."
"Gege can cooking another dinner for me if he wants to pay me" San Lang says softly. He
also stands up and follows him. He is tall, and when Xie Lian raises his head to look at him,
the moonlight bathes his back. Firm lines and precise shadows make his face almost a work
of art in its own right. If Xie Lian knew how to paint, he would definitely paint him. "This
San Lang would be grateful for a hot home-cooked meal. Its better pay than anything in this
world."
"You're a flatterer, San Lang" Xie Lian suddenly says, his face feeling warmer. "I'll cook
tomorrow. Then San Lang will get his payment. Isn't it time to go to sleep now?"
He is not tired. The energy conspires against him, his heart racing, and his throat tightening.
He wants to break the distance and get close to San Lang, to test how delicately his hands can
hold his own face, how well he smells directly into his glands, willing to let him....
His face burns.
Why is he suddenly reacting so pathetically!? Where is his self-control?
"If gege is tired" San Lang concedes, and Xie Lian takes advantage of that to turn around and
head back to the temple. His footsteps are racing, almost as fast as his heart. How could he
possibly be behaving so foolishly? This isn't the first time he's had to come face to face with
charming Alphas, so why of all people does this alpha push his brain to turn to mush and his
instincts to crawl to the surface?
He takes deep breaths. He doesn't feel so altered as to sing sutras, but he's sure that the air
unscented with San Lang's scent influences his temporary relaxation.
He leaves the drawing San Lang made on the table, worshipping the careful strokes for a
moment before turning away. San Lang stands at the temple door, almost as if asking for
permission to enter, and with a wave Xie Lian grants it.
He rummages through the meagre things he has. He hasn't been able to gather much, but he
has sticks of incense which he lights on the offering table. He is not quite sure he can help his
son with many merits, but he is sure he will never be short of a few.
He bows in front of the offering table, letting the incense sticks rest. The smoke rises in
aromatic spirals, and Xie Lian smiles. Beside him, as if imitating him, San Lang draws
incense from the bag where he keeps his art materials.
Xie Lian sees the movement of his hands, now clicking the stones to light a small flame after
which he lights his own incense. It is a routine movement that looks even elegant when he
does it, and then, the incense burns alongside his own. The aroma is heavy, strong,
wildflowers bursting on his senses, and Xie Lian's head spins a little.
"I didn't know San Lang were a devotee" he says, instead. San Lang gives him a smile so full
of warmth that Xie Lian's heart skips a beat.
"I am" he replies softly. "His Midnight Highness is one of the few gods worthy of my
devotion."
"San Lang must come from Yu Jun Mountain" Xie Lian comments, almost to himself, "if he
is devoted towards His Midnight Highness."
San Lang shrugs, neither accepting nor denying it. He bows his head in respect, his hands
clasped together, and Xie Lian does the same. He closes his eyes and lets his adoration and
devotion mingle with gratitude. He offers his adoration, his unbounded affection, his loyalty.
His son is a god. His son is a little god who has fought with all his might in a battle that was
not his to fight... and who had been hurt because of him, because he could not protect him,
and yet he did not blame him.
He had looked at him with kind eyes, with affection, with adoration. What had Xie Lian done
to make his son love him so much? How could he love him, adore him so much like that,
after he had been unable to care for him?
As a father, it was his only duty: Xie Lian should have protected him. He shouldn't have let
him expose himself like that. He knew that something else had happened in the battle, he
knew that if the stories of the military officers were true, his son had done something
absolutely dangerous and extreme to save them all. And then, he had been wounded by his
slowness and unable to restrain Xuan Ji in time, and there was so much blood coming out of
his head, and his son was so weak and small in his arms....
How could his son hold him so tightly and so lovingly when Xie Lian didn't deserve it? He
had not been able to protect him. He hadn't been able to stop him from being hurt. Was Xie
Meihua ever going to notice? Was he ever going to open his eyes, come out of his
idealization, and notice what a failure Xie Lian was as a father?
What father doesn't protect his own son above his life? What father just stands there, doing
nothing, unable to notice that his son was actually dying in his arms?
What father watches his child slowly die and does nothing about it?
Was his son going to hate him, like everyone else, and leave him behind?
"Gege?"
Xie Lian doesn't notice the tears falling until a strangled sound erupts from his own throat.
When he opens his eyes, San Lang is there, his scent enveloping him with so much concern
and so much affection that Xie Lian lets the tears fall, overwhelmed.
"I'm sorry" he whispers. He doesn't know if he's saying it to San Lang, to his son, or to
himself, but the tears fall as he hugs himself tightly, trying to hold back. He can't. He can't.
His son really is safe in the next room, sleeping, playing pranks on him, and fighting ghosts
on his own! He's safe!
But how can he stop crying when his son is safe, and its no thanks to him? How can he stop
crying when he did nothing to protect him? He doesn't deserve it. He doesn't deserve relief.
He doesn't deserve his forgiveness.
"Gege, gege" San Lang's voice is soft. His scent is soft. Everything about him is soft: his
hands are soft as they wipe the cheeks of his face, his fingers are soft as he pushes away the
hair that falls across his face, and everything about him is soft as he embraces him so gently
that Xie Lian feels fragile in his arms. "Gege, breathe. What's wrong?"
"San Lang" Xie Lian's own voice sounds strangled, how can he tell him, how can he...? He
doesn't deserve comfort. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry..."
San Lang hugs him. His arms grow strong around him, comfortable, and when he finally
buries his head in the crook of his neck the scent that envelops him is all that is right. Warm,
soft, it lulls him and allows him to cry in his arms feeling at home.
San Lang holds him as if he is about to collapse. He gently holds his body, rubs small circles
on his back. It's warm, sweet, and so rapturously delicate that Xie Lian feels as loved by a
stranger as... As...
As that night, exactly seventeen years ago.
He breaks away from San Lang as if on fire.
The expression on San Lang's face is confused. He is overwhelmed, he notices. His scent is
not only reassuring and affectionate, but he shows himself to be... frightened. As if the scene
of an omega crying in his arms is too much to process.
"I'm sorry" he repeats, his voice congested. "I'm sorry" he says again, a little firmer, a couple
of breaths later. "I didn't mean to... I didn't mean to..."
There's something pricking at the back of his mind. It feels like an idea, the beginning of an
idea, really. It feels like his mind wants to lead him down a path that, long and winding, slips
into comparisons. San Lang smells good, his omega seems to tell him; it's a primal instinct
that Xie Lian had so forced himself to ignore that now, dazed, he only feels himself slipping
into a chaos of emotions skidding around the edges of his sanity.
He smells like a mate. Why not?
He can't do it.
"Gege, breathe" San Lang says again. It's soft, no sharp edges, no danger. He is careful as if
Xie Lian were worth something, and his heart clenches in pain. Kindness only brings
comparisons when there is bad treatment afterward, and Xie Lian doesn't want kindness. He
doesn't want to compare. He doesn't want the pain. "This San Lang apologizes. This one
shouldn't have hugged gege like that."
"It's not that, it's not that" Xie Lian hastens to say. He narrows his eyes, wiping the tears
away. He doesn't have an excuse to break down in tears, and excusing hormones is pathetic at
this point in his life. "It's just... I've been under a lot of stress lately. I'm sorry, I shouldn't
force you to calm me down."
"Gege would never force me" San Lang says, and his tone of voice is so abruptly genuine
that Xie Lian falls silent. "Gege doesn't have to force himself to be strong. Now, this San
Lang can take care of gege."
There is something hidden in his words, Xie Lian realises. There is something he doesn't say,
but which seems implicit in the sentence. It’s something that Xie Lian notices as an
affectionate: let me take care of you, I can do it, I can show you that you don't need to be
alone.
But he needs to be alone. Because just as he has been alone for almost eight hundred years,
he will be alone for eight hundred more years once Meihua leaves... because he will.
Sometime he will. Whether it's ten, fifty, a hundred years away, he'll get tired of it like
everyone else, and he'll quit. He will realise that his misfortunes are not worth enduring. Xie
Lian will do something bad enough, he won't be able to protect him, he won't be able to be
good company for his son, who is now a God, and who will have much more trouble than
taking care of his silly old father.
He has to do it alone.
Even if he doesn't want to, he has to.
"Ah, San Lang" Xie Lian takes a deep breath. He feels the way his body trembles, his throat
completely taken over by the knot of tears that is bidding to come out. But he can't do that.
He can't do that to himself. "It's not necessary, it's not necessary. I'm very sorry. I didn't mean
to cry like that..."
San Lang's eyes are sad. He seems to be talking to him with his eyes, but Xie Lian refuses to
hear him. He also refuses to hear the denial that he shouldn't apologise, of course he should!
He is acting in such a shameful way.
"I think we need to rest. Lack of sleep does horrible things!" he excuses himself. And it hurts.
It hurts to excuse himself, because his body is screaming to give in, to throw itself into San
Lang's embrace, to be cared for, to be protected. The instincts he has ignored for centuries are
there, crying out for touch and closeness, begging for care and affection, and Xie Lian is
willing to ignore them as always.
He can't do that to himself. If San Lang cares for him even once, when he leaves, it will hurt
more.
They settle into an awkward silence. Xie Lian stands up, washes his face, and takes deep,
clear night-scented breaths. He tries to clear his mind until he stops feeling as if he's going to
fall apart into a thousand pieces.
It's been a while since he last blamed herself so much for an injury to his son. It's been a
while since the last time he couldn't protect him.
"Does gege need anything?" asks San Lang. Xie Lian can hear the hesitation in his voice, the
doubt. He feels terribly ashamed for proving himself so weak: San Lang has been nothing but
kind to him, charming in so many ways, and there he is humiliating himself in this foolish
way, totally losing control and collapsing in his arms.
"It's all right, San Lang, I'm so sorry to worry you" he says, walking past him. San Lang
follows him as if he were lost in a dark cave, and the only light he could see was Xie Lian.
And, even if Xie Lian wants to ignore this fact, he doesn’t. It is impossible to ignore it,
though he must. He must ignore it if he doesn't want to go mad. "We need to rest."
"Gege doesn't have to apologize for anything" San Lang says in kind. His voice is a soft coo
that hurts, hurts, because only Xie Meihua is kind, and if even he will leave, why won't San
Lang leave too? He will finish his work and leave. That's what he must do. Xie Lian won't be
able to do anything to keep kindness nearby, and perhaps, he deserves it. "If gege wants to
rest, however, this one can take care of his sleep."
"San Lang" Xie Lian complains. "You're going to sleep too. You won't be able to work
tomorrow if you're tired."
Xie Lian's room is small, much smaller than his son's. He barely has the lid of a boot where
he keeps his only other pair of robes and the red dress that, after his son's hard work of
embroidery, he felt bad about throwing away. There are only knick-knacks in every corner of
the room: the mat in the corner, the table full of junk, the shabby furniture in various states of
antiquity. Xie Lian hoped that one day this place, because of the beautiful and ample lighting,
could be transformed into a worthy art studio. He would make a paper door that would move
into the back garden, and connect to the house. It would be a beautiful place.
Now, however, it was so humble and small that he felt bad about presenting it to San Lang.
"It's very..."
"It's very comfortable" interrupts San Lang. "Gege doesn't have pillows?"
And when Xie Lian denies, San Lang takes off his red shirt. He folds it very carefully and
lays it on the mat. It is so gentle that it stings at the edges of his loneliness, and guilt pushes
against his throat. You don't deserve it, seems to scream at him. Xie Lian wants to deny it, but
is unable to do more than force a sad smile.
"Ah, San Lang, I have no blankets" he says. He undoes the knot in his belt as Ruoye crawls
into his fur, comfortably wrapping his arm and holding still there while Xie Lian removes his
outer robes. "But we'll be able to cover ourselves with these."
"Ourselves?" asks San Lang. There is so much naivety and wonder in his gaze when Xie Lian
turns around that he can't help but smile genuinely, entertained.
"Ourselves” he repeats. His voice sounds a little more confident than it did a moment ago; if
San Lang was the least bit a bad person, he would have already taken a chance on Xie Lian's
loneliness, or pain. His guest had only been kind and sweet. "San Lang is a guest, of course
he has to sleep comfortably. And if San Lang doesn't mind sharing, I don't mind either."
"This one would be honoured" he says, gently, and Xie Lian settles down on one side of the
mat. San Lang settles right next to him, his eyes warm, and his gaze wavering. He looks at
his neck and Xie Lian reminds himself that he is without his outer robes, and that probably
among the ill-fitting bandages, the cursed shackle is visible.
He covers it with one hand, nervously, but then San Lang speaks: "Gege doesn't have a
mate."
It is not a question. It's a statement uttered in admittedly dubious words, and Xie Lian shakes
his head slowly.
"No, I don't have one" he confirms. Saying it, for some reason, hurts.
His omega instincts want to groan at his refusal. They twist in his chest, anxious, seeking to
correct him. 'I have a mate he wants to say. The words die in his throat, unable to say them,
unable to think them, but they slip into his coherence with erratic thrusts. 'I have a mate. I
have a mate. He's not here, but I have a mate. I let him go. I walked away. I won't see him
again. But I have a mate. I don't care if I never see him again, I have a...'
His chest aches the more he thinks about it, his instincts attacking him and catching him off
guard. He's too emotional, too erratic, and his eyes burn after the sensation of being on the
verge of tears again. He feels so weak and dazed by his own reaction for a moment that it
feels like an eternity.
His heart aches as he exhales, trying to take control of the situation in his hands. He has to
put his hand over his racing heart, trying to calm the heavy beats burning against his chest. A
couple of breaths later he allows himself to relax, pushing the pain away as much as he can.
"This one's sorry to mention" San Lang says much more carefully than before. His voice is
leisurely, like the voice someone would use to approach a wounded wild animal, and Xie
Lian is overwhelmed by it. He is so careful with it, as if it were worth so much effort, that it
hurts. "This San Lang had the mistaken thought that gege had a mate. I apologise."
"Ah, this think was very wrong, but San Lang doesn't have to apologise" Xie Lian smiles a
little, trying not to look as vulnerable as he feels. "I've never had a mate before. I don't have
anyone in sight either, to tell you the truth! Getting this temple up and running is my only
priority right now."
He relaxes on the mat. Beside him, San Lang stands on one side, looking at him. Xie Lian
turns his face to see him and a small smile begins to grow on his lips.
He feels comfortable; it's as if all the discomfort can seep away. Losing himself in his deep
eyes, suddenly, he is so comfortable next to a near-stranger that he doesn't feel like a stranger
at all. It's as if he knows him, and even if he doesn't, Xie Lian wouldn't mind meeting him at
all. It smells friendly: soft flowers, the scent of buds blooming with the first days of spring.
He smells so sweet and delicate, a symphony of scents that tantalises his senses in an
extremely different way than the scent of any other alpha, that Xie Lian feels he has to make
a conscious effort not to be carried away by the alpha's sweet scent and take refuge in his
arms.
It would be easy to take refuge in his arms. It would be too easy.
"This San Lang will help gege get the temple up and running, then" he says in what almost
sounds like a joking tone of voice, but Xie Lian feels like he lost his way, too relaxed and
sleepy to catch the joke. A silly laugh paints his lips.
"Thank you, San Lang" he says softly, and he is truly grateful. San Lang smiles and gazes at
him with the same look he had before, while drawing him: there is attention, dedication,
affection so pure that Xie Lian feels exposed, raw.
He closes his eyes. He thinks he hears something, a murmur he can't quite make out, but he
loses himself in the dark recesses of his unconsciousness as he lets himself fall, terribly tired
and unbearably comfortable next to an Alpha his mind doesn't know, but his heart is sure it
does.
Chapter End Notes
HC: Gege, let me draw you!

XL: Ah, San Lang, I'm sorry, I don't have anything to pay you with
HC: *in his mind* I've carved over a thousand statues for your highness for free and I'd
do it again, but that's okay
HC: It's just a sketch, gege don't have to pay me
ALSO:
HC: Gege doesn't have a mate, which is horrible and wretched, who was able to LEAVE
GEGE PREGNANT without a worthy bound bite, HOW COULD ANYONE DARE-
HC: ... However, gege doesn't have a mate *brings his hopes to the table*
That's 6170 words of Hualian filtering, I just-

SERIOUSLY SORRY FOR THE DELAY, lol, but I also had too many doubts with this
chapter. I mean, you know, in the original version of this chapter XL literally came up
with the association that San Lang was Wu Ming, BUT SINCE THAT DIDN'T
HAPPEN IN THIS FINAL VERSION (because the plot is a bitch, and I just obey it),
and I kept writing without giving the chapter a proper edit that would change that, and I
had to change a lot of XL's train of thought and modify others, and it's been wearing
(and beautiful)
They are in love your honour, they are fools in love incapable of recognising themselves
As always, as always I have to say because it's the only thing that keeps me alive,
THANK YOU SO MUCH for every beautiful comment, every kudo, every little thing
you do for this fic. You have no idea how much it brings happiness to my days
I WON'T BE SO LONG AGAIN, I'M SORRY

See you in the next chapter my sweetheart! <3
Ghosts from the past
Chapter Summary
Hua Cheng's name appears in a conversation between San Lang, Xie Lian and Xie
Meihua
Chapter Notes
I'M BACK, I'M SO SORRY

I honestly didn't think university could drain me so much emotionally and mentally, but
it's been harder this semester than others, I'm so sorry-
IN GOOD NEWS this chapter is beta readed by Red, whom I thank from all of my
heart. Every well-written detail of this chapter is thanks to them editing it!
Thinking about setting specific update days- which day suits you best? Please tell me! I
would like it to be at least twice a week! <3
AND, ALSO, WE HAVE ART FOR THE FIC, I'M CRYING, THE ART IS BY
@Elin_Shell AND IT IS THIS ABSOLUTE BEAUTY, I have no words to thank you
for all you do- reading, enjoying, and doing things like this for my fic, this is a dream
and you guys are the best part of my life
Xie Meihua opens his eyes with his heart pounding in his chest and covered in cold sweat.
There is sun sliding into the room, abruptly tearing the nightmares from his eyelids as he
curls in on himself, scanning the objects around him with his gaze. It is a small room, but
amply lit: there is an uneven table, an uncovered chest filled with clean robes, and a small
cabinet without a drawer on which several candles rest.
He takes a deep breath, shuddering. Then another.
There is a fairly stable roof over his head. Perfectly wide windows, sun splashed dust motes
floating in the air.
He's home.
It takes him more than a couple of breaths to calm down. He still feels the cold sweat against
his skin and— beyond the security he had wanted to feign during the time he waited for the
merits— all he wants in that moment, just after waking up, is to cover his head until he
disappears.
But not to go back to sleep. Gods save him from going back to sleep.
His skin itches uncomfortably when he finally gets up. He is ready to race down the
mountain for a quick swim in the river when he hears laughter.
Laughter?
"Gege" San Lang's voice complains.
Xie Meihua doesn't avoid peering slightly over the edge of the window, trying to catch a
glimpse of them. They are just beyond; Ruoye reaches out from his father's hands, dropping
water chestnuts. San Lang seems to be catching them, except for the one that probably fell on
his head. From San Lang's offended face, it looks like his father is having a lot of fun at his
expense.
"I’m sorry, San Lang, I’m sorry-" apologizes his father, still laughing.
San Lang looks at him with puppy dog eyes and an almost pout, and suddenly, Xie Meihua
remembers that he has a punishment to face. With a resigned sigh he picks up a set of robes
from the boot; there are not too many. The white inner robes have seams where Xie Lian
stretched the fabric of his own robes to fit his son. The red outer robes are of much cheaper
fabric than the one he is wearing, and even so, with slightly frayed edges. Despite this, the
robes are soft, the little they could salvage from the slip; they are smooth against his fingers,
nice, and feel a little more like home.
Xie Meihua picks up a clean set of robes, black trousers, and then heads downstream. It takes
him no time at all to find a secluded spot among the trees where he dives into the sun-
warmed water, still dressed. He discards the clothes and carves away the soiled edges with
patience, treating the expensive fabric with far more care than he would his old garments. He
spreads them out on a stone in the sun to dry while he takes care of cleaning himself.
He splashes a little in the river, just enjoying the peace. The constant sound of the flowing
water is soothing, and although the forest is a little lonely, there are birds in their nests
singing sweet morning melodies. However, he knows he can't linger; the goal was to get the
cold sweat off his body and the discomfort following the nightmare, so he no longer has an
excuse to stay away from his father's punishment. He sighs and lies in the sun for a moment,
allowing the water to dry off of his body before getting dressed.
The trousers are as comfortable as ever. The robes on his skin feel as if nothing ever
happened; if Xie Meihua closes his eyes in that instant he can imagine that he can still return
to a house that didn't collapse, and that he can probably train with his father in the afternoon,
when they return from picking up trash.
But it's not something that can happen. Xie Meihua lets out a deeper sigh, finishing tying his
hair up in a tight knot. It has only been a few days since his journey north was interrupted,
but it feels like an eternity on his back. Before, he wouldn't have had to fight ghosts, or take
on missions alongside celestial officers, let alone live permanently in a temple, much less one
dedicated to him.
He had never wanted to be a God. He still doesn't want to, in fact. The only positive thing the
ascension had brought him was learning the true identity of his other father.
He sighs. And he hadn't even been able to talk to his father about it. He's almost certain that
Xie Lian would be happy to know that he'd been so close to them, that he'd saved his life...
He's almost certain that his father's reaction to Hua Cheng's closeness would be favourable
with the way he spoke of him… but he wouldn't bet anything on it.
After all, he's practically a stranger who hasn't been a part of their lives at any point. And,
even if he suddenly did something spontaneous and heroic like saving his life, he probably
had a reason for doing it. Just because he saved his life doesn't mean that Hua Cheng is
abruptly a present and protective father.
Or that he even knows he has a son.
He puts all such thoughts out of his mind; deluding himself can only serve to dash his hopes
later, and he will be sorely disappointed. He gathers his clean robes and sets off for the
temple. He has no intention of delaying and postponing his punishment any longer.
His father is outside and he catches a glimpse of him as he walks up the hill. He is sweeping
and the look on his face, once he spots him, is stern, but at the same time kind. When Xie
Meihua arrives at the temple, he finds that San Lang has his outer shirt tied around his waist
as he works over timbers, building what looks like a solid door.
"Good morning, A-Lian," he murmurs. His father gives him a slightly warmer smile, flowing
into him with his calming scent, hugging him. "I'm sorry for..."
"Shhh" his father hushes him. He pulls away with a soft smile. "It's okay. We don't have to
talk about it now, though I hope you understand you've done something wrong" his tone is
still gentle within the sternness. Xie Meihua nods his head several times. "So, how did you
sleep, did you rest well?"
"Very well" he lies. He doesn't need to worry his father with his silly nightmares, after all.
Isn't he supposed to be a god who's having his own temple built? He shouldn't be so weak.
"Did you sleep well, A-Lian? Did San Lang behave himself?" the last part asks quietly. His
father lets out a derisive laugh.
"Ah, San Lang is such a gentleman. Our dear artist even agreed to give you drawing lessons,"
says Xie Lian with a much warmer smile. Xie Meihua blinks, surprised.
"Really?" he asks, because it suddenly feels like it's been years since he last held a brush. It's
been a while without him being able to do more than relax and fool around.
"Of course." his father gives him a slightly goofy grin. It curves at the edges in a dreamy way
that Xie Meihua doesn't miss, his heart chirping with pure happiness. Did his father finally
like someone? Still, it feels cheeky to ask, so he diverts his gaze to San Lang. His hair has a
twisted braid falling down one side, different from yesterday's hairstyle, and Xie Meihua
can't help but notice how similar they look. Probably, if someone were to see them from afar,
they would look like a family.
"I'll go make some tea. Would you like a cup?" he asks after a moment, pushing the silly
thoughts out of his head. His father nods slowly, gently grateful for the offer, and Xie Meihua
walks forward through the garden to meet San Lang. He shadows him so that San Lang looks
up.
"Good morning, San Lang" he greets kindly. "I'll make tea. Would you like a cup?"
"Of course, Didi! Good morning" and his voice is also warm, soft, and suddenly Xie Meihua
has a feeling that startles him.
He feels he might get used to it.
"I'll be right back," he says kindly.
He walks inside the temple where he puts the water on to heat. He notices that there is less
than a bucket available so, before lunch, they will have to fetch water from the village well.
He leaves the water heating as he separates the tea strands, hearing the conversation between
San Lang and his father as a murmur in the background. Apparently, they are talking about
the Water Tyrant, Shi Wudu. Xie Meihua is sure he heard a couple of very acid gossips about
him and General Ming Guang, also with harsh references to something called the Three
Tumours, but he doesn't remember which spiritual communication array exactly he was in.
He doesn't know if they are reliable, so he listens as he pulls the strands apart, looking for the
best ones.
"When merchants transport their goods they must send them by waterway. Therefore, before
they set out on their journey, they burn enough incense to have a good voyage, promising
them things." San Lang's voice is both educational and gentle as he speaks. Xie Meihua
allows herself to enjoy the conversation from a distance; from the volume of his words, it
doesn't seem to be a secret either, so Xie Meihua is comfortable with listening.
"That's very interesting," his father hums playfully. "Apparently, this Water God is a powerful
Heavenly Official."
"Yes, the Water Tyrant."
Xie Meihua smiles at the title; he's only been in the Heavens a little bit— let alone the
celestial communication array— but he has to admit that the nickname is right with Shi
Wudu's despot attitude, and honestly, amusing.
"Water Tyrant?"
San Lang patiently and amusingly explains the origin of the nickname. He can hear his father
laugh, amused, and takes the boiling water from the fire. He pours the three cups of tea and
balances them on a wooden board. As he does so, he sees that on the offering table, there is a
perfectly rendered drawing of his father.
He is so lost in the neat lines, so envious of San Lang's artistic ability to have made such a
work of art from what seemed like so many loose, free strokes, that he can barely hear his
father's next question. The words register a little after he says them:
"You know a lot about gods. However, do you also know about ghosts?"
"What ghost?"
There is a moment of silence. Xie Meihua isn't sure about interrupting.
"Ah, you probably don't know him. His name is Hua Cheng."
Xie Meihua steps out as quickly as he can, ready to interrupt the conversation there. It's a
conversation he needs to have with his father in strict privacy, calmly, patiently, and....
"Crimson Rain Sought Flower?" asks San Lang, as if mocking the name. Xie Meihua
suddenly feels uncomfortable, standing up, and his discomfort makes his ears burn as San
Lang turns to him and says with a wide grin, "Didi also asked about him, coincidentally."
Xie Lian's glance at him is almost wary.
"Oh yeah?" he hesitates a moment later. Xie Meihua nods, holding out his makeshift tray to
his father and San Lang. Each holds a cup and Xie Meihua can hold his own, suddenly
noticing herself standing awkwardly between the two. They are sitting on a log, the sun
beating down on them through the leaves of the trees, and it is such a comfortable harmony
that he suddenly feels like an intruder. "Sit with us," his father asks, tugging at the hem of his
robe and dragging him to sit beside him.
Xie Meihua does so. He takes the seat right in the middle of them both, to Xie Lian's left; to
his right, San Lang looks at him with amusement, as if particularly entertained by the
discomfort on his face.
"Didi seemed very curious about Hua Cheng" San Lang continues to explain, as if it was
actually a conversation he could have and not one that Xie Meihua had been putting off due
to lack of privacy. Xie Meihua hides behind his cup, blowing gently, letting the warm steam
disguise the embarrassed flush on his cheeks with exposure to the heat. "We talked about him
most of the trip."
"At my work" Xie Meihua takes care to stress the word work, trying to get the hint across to
Xie Lian. His father's gaze is controlled, though absent, "They mentioned him. I was curious.
Apparently, uh, he was around… when, you know, the Yu Jun Mountain situation happened."
"Around?" his father asks. His voice is light, soft, and it drifts through the air like a shiver.
Xie Meihua isn't sure how much he can say in front of San Lang, but, finally, he says it:
"He was the one who guided the bride through the rain of blood"
The teacup slips from his father's hands.

It doesn't hit the ground, fortunately. San Lang holds it in the air and pushes it aside. His
father has a blank stare and a particularly noticeable tremor in his hands. In all his years of
life, Xie Meihua has never seen his father with such an expression on his face. He looks
completely disoriented, lost. There is no terror on his face, he notes, but a perplexity
trembling in his eyes.
"Gege?" asks San Lang. His voice is an octave higher, almost frightened. Xie Meihua tries to
put a hand on his father's back, reassuring him, but as soon as he touches him his father
moves as if he's been stabbed. It's a quick, instinctive movement, and Xie Meihua holds his
hand in the air, the trembling of his fingers barely noticeable.
"Ah, sorry!" Xie Lian quickly apologizes. His voice is totally unconcerned as is the fake
smile on his face, which gets Xie Meihua to narrow his eyes a little. It's not normal. It's not
right. "I think… I need a moment. I'm sorry."
His father stands up and walks off inside the temple. San Lang motions to get up, ready to
follow him, but Xie Meihua quickly puts his hand on his arm, stopping him.
San Lang's look at the hand on his arm is suddenly cruel. If he didn't trust him (even if trust
was too big a word for someone he had just met, Xie Meihua felt San Lang to be trustworthy)
he would even think he planned to cut off his hand before he would allow him to continue
touching him.
His expression relaxes as he looks into his eyes.
"He just needs a moment," he explains slowly. "I don't think he was… ready for that kind of
information."
San Lang is silent for a moment; he returns to his old pose, holding both cups in steady
hands. Then, after a pause and in a suddenly low voice, he asks, "Is there something wrong
with Hua Cheng?"
Xie Meihua rolls his eyes. He curses Mu Qing inwardly again; it has become a habit.
"Didn't San Lang say that Hua Cheng is part of a horror story in itself?" Xie Meihua repeats
to San Lang his own words from the day before. The day feels as distant as it does close, and
Xie Meihua isn't sure he recognizes the bitter emotions that cross San Lang's face.
"I'm afraid I didn't think Gege would be scared of him," he confesses.
Xie Meihua smiles a little, wrapping his hands around his warm cup until he feels it burn. He
doesn't mind.
"He doesn't scare him," he says slowly. "However, A-Lian and Hua Cheng have... a past in
common" he doesn't know how much to say without saying too much. He doesn't want to
intrude on his father's privacy, but a corner of his mind pushes him to tell San Lang that his
father is not afraid of Hua Cheng. It's as if the very thought of that is the only thing capable
of wiping the emotions from his kind guest's face. "It's a little difficult of a situation."
"I see" says San Lang slowly. "So, Gege is not afraid of Hua Cheng's presence?"
When Xie Meihua raises his head to look at San Lang he does not expect to meet suddenly
vulnerable eyes. He denies, smiling, "No, I can assure you that of all the things A-Lian feels
about Hua Cheng, he feels no fear."
He can tell that his father feels affection for Hua Cheng, fondness. A kind of sentiment that
takes his memories and transforms them into a soft idealization filled with gentle mist. Of all
things, meeting him by chance could only make his father feel disbelief and elation, never
fear.
"That's good," says San Lang, a moment later, with what seems almost relief. Then, he turns
to him, "Is that why Didi was asking about Hua Cheng?"
"Guilty," Xie Meihua shrugs. If he can drag San Lang's curiosity away from his father, even
for a moment, he's fine with that. He can handle questions about him. "I was curious. The
context in which I got the name wasn't very good."
A calamity, one of the top four whose infamous exploits had given the Heavens the terror of
destruction his name brought. A ghost of rank Devastation, terrifying, the scourge of the
heavens, the celestial terror. Had he not been so fascinated, he probably should have felt real
fear.
But the truth was that he didn't. Hua Cheng didn't seem to be someone who did things just for
the sake of it. There was no trace of a chaotic, destructive ghost getting into skirmishes just
for the fun of it, but a thoughtful trail of limited destruction behind which Hua Cheng would
move, cutting threads and raining blood where he thought it was deserved.
It was almost as if Hua Cheng was a kind of vigilante if he looked at it from another
perspective.
"Hua Cheng's name is not usually uttered under good circumstances," says San Lang. Xie
Meihua sighs.
"However, he saved my life," the words escape Xie Meihua before he can say more. San
Lang doesn't deny it and doesn't dare look at his face, so he simply continues, "I refuse to
think badly of someone who saves another person like that. I wasn't someone important to
him, he didn't even know me, and suddenly all my wounds were gone... They weren't there
anymore. There was no pain. No one else could have saved me, and he seemed to notice it
somehow because..." his voice trails off. He doesn't want to think about the pain. He doesn't
want to think about the fear, but it is there, in front of his door, and he can't help but walk
through it. He does so by forcing his voice to be firm, "He saved me in an absolutely selfless
way. I refuse to let myself believe that Hua Cheng is a bad person."
Beside him, finally, San Lang laughs a little. His laugh is shallow and rather cold.
"Hua Cheng's motivations are a mystery" he responds softly. There is something false and
cutting in that softness, like a poorly disguised performance. Even if his words are honest,
Xie Meihua notices lies at every edge. "But Hua Cheng would never do anything genuinely
selfless, I can assure you. There must always be a bargaining chip, something he can earn.
Probably, in your situation, he may have done it as a way to gain someone's favour. Or to get
their... gratitude."
"That would be stupid," complains Xie Meihua. "The only person who would be grateful that
I'm alive is..."
He abruptly mutters.
If Hua Cheng actually remembers the omega he spent a rut with seventeen years ago, and
abruptly wanted to have him back on a whim —he is a goddamn LORD from a city full of
ghosts, by Heavens, he might as well have a fucking harem full of omegas willing to warm
his bed! Why suddenly appear in front of his father and feign interest?— it made sense that
Hua Cheng had saved him.
Saving his life he could ensure that he would be memorable to his father. And ensure that, at
least once, Xie Lian would go to his Ghost City to thank him in person.
His father chooses that moment to come out from inside the temple. He looks slightly
uncomfortable, and Xie Meihua is almost certain he heard every word as well.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he apologizes. When he sits down again he sits down next to Xie
Meihua. He seems to take a safe distance from San Lang, even though the alpha's gaze only
looks glad to see him again. "It was thoughtless of me to leave, but I needed a moment to
process. Thank you, San Lang, A-Meihua, for giving me my time."
"Gege has nothing to apologize for," San Lang says gently. "This one apologizes for his
bluntness. I didn't think it was a sensitive subject."
"It's not, it's not," Xie Lian gestures uncomfortably, shaking his head and both hands. It's
almost funny, except instead of smiling, he looks like he wants to cry. "I haven't heard Hua
Cheng's name in a long time, I'm afraid. Maybe my information about him is a little out of
date."
Too out of date, Xie Meihua wants to say. But his father doesn't seem up for the joke, so he
sighs over his tea, taking a sip. His temperature is more bearable now, and Xie Lian retrieves
his tea from San Lang's hands. As both hands pass in front of him, Xie Meihua can see their
fingers brush against each other.
It's strange how that movement stirs a strange ache in his chest.
But, it's what he wanted, isn't it? A mate for his father. A worthy mate. Someone who would
show him genuine affection, genuine adoration, and San Lang does nothing but show it. And
yet...
There's something there. Something he noticed when San Lang laughed distantly, avoiding
looking him in the eyes.
When Xie Meihua turns to look at San Lang, frowning slightly in concentration. San Lang
has his typical relaxed smile and carefree face, blowing tea slowly as black hair spills into the
braid over his shoulder. And Xie Meihua notices something there. There's something he can't
see with the naked eye, but it's there. It's like... Something inside him. Something that
vibrates too much in tune with the yin energy crawling through him very being. It's
something that feels too similar to the lingering chills within the forest of Yu Jun Mountain,
something that settles like a heavy sensation upon his bones.
He knows it. Somehow, he knows: San Lang is not human.
He tries not to think about it.
Yet he knows: avoiding thinking about it is the surest way to obsess.
Chapter End Notes
HC: Hua Cheng is an evil and ruthless ghost, everyone is afraid of him-
XL: *reacts shocked to know that he was close to HC*
HC: *without context* g-gEGE FEARS ME? *has a mental breakdown*
Between this chapter and the next I'll be adding some new tags that I FORGOT IN THE
BEGINNING, SORRY, nothing serious, omega heats, nesting, the usual- you know,
omegaverse stuff
As always, thank you so much for reading my darling! Every read, kudo, comment,
makes my day softer and warmer, and is the reason I smile. Sorry I haven't been very
present responding and interacting, I'll fix that soon! <3
You know, I learned how to add links, so follow me on Twitter if you want to see me
make threads of ideas that will probably never be more than a wip, lots of Hualian
omegaverse/mpreg and retweets of pretty art
See you in the next chapter honey! Take care of yourself, I love you! <3
Scraps of domesticity
Chapter Summary
Xie Meihua resumes his comfortable, familiar routine: accompanying his father and
beating up idiot Alphas. Now, however, San Lang is included in his days.
Chapter Notes
TODAY (09/30) IS MY BIRTHDAY for a while yet, so, HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME! I
give you a new chapter
THANKS A LOT TO RED, SWEETHEART, FOR BETA READING THIS

CHAPTER! Is it too late to say that english isnt my native language and that I make too
many mistakes and spend hours correcting everything? Or I used to. Now thanks to Red
I can give you better chapters! TuT
Thank you very much for reading, commenting, and I hope you like this chapter!
The day passes without sorrow or glory. Even Xie Meihua's punishment dies in some
oblivion, he notes, and though he feels responsible for his actions, he will not take the will to
ask for it.
They work. After his father returns to burn lunch, they settle into a comfortable domesticity:
his father and San Lang make doors click into place and protect them with talismans. San
Lang and his father climb onto the roof and rearrange thatch and tiles, sealing it with firm
clay. His father believes it will not rain soon, so they can afford to reinforce the roof.
Xie Meihua tends the gardens with Ruoye's help; then, when the weeds are gone, he runs
with Ruoye downstream to wash it. In his hands, Ruoye looks delighted, like a happy cat just
short of purring, and when they return, his father has burnt the tea (hard as it is to believe, it
tastes burnt). Xie Meihua goes off scavenging with Ruoye's company to look after him, as he
has done so many times before.
That part of his routine is comfortable and familiar, at least.
What is neither comfortable nor familiar are the devotees who arrive shortly after noon. They
pray, they offer, they leave incense in quantities. A small warmth builds inside Xie Meihua's
chest. He can feel his energy growing, and relief takes over as he notices it mobile in his
hands, easily accessible; the yin energy flowing out of him gives him a relief that releases the
tension from all his muscles and fills him with energy.
'Please, Your Highness of Midnight, protect my brother, he always fights with the members
of that sect... Yet he is still obsessed with entering it. Please, Your Highness...' he hears a
girl's voice.
Xie Meihua feels a shiver come after the words, his chest burning. He is too far away from
the temple when it happens, so he can take a moment to hold on to a tree and take a deep
breath. He lets the prayer slip into a strange corner of his being, perhaps very close to his
heart, eyes heavy with tears.
It doesn't feel bad. It doesn't feel like the yang energy, wrong and stupid against him, too
heavy and harmful against his meridians. Prayers and incense on his behalf feel as if he might
suddenly have more power than ever, more than enough power to help people.
And he is willing to do so.
He picks up litter. There are women with kind smiles and men who willingly donate old tools
to him. Xie Meihua bows humbly, smiles a lot, accepts a steamed bun and plays for a while
with a little boy with scraped knees. They chase Ruoye until the boy tires and, a little way
outside the small village limits where maple forests give way to hilly terrain, the two can hear
a fight break out.
"No!" says the kid suddenly. "It's Zao-fu! He's getting beaten up again!"
Xie Meihua learns that answering prayers can be both unexpected and abrupt, as if the hand
of fate is guiding him. Xie Meihua does not hesitate as he approaches the man being beaten;
he is young, barely older than he is, and his omega scent is faint.
The snarl that escapes his lips barely fazes the aggressive idiots. They are also around the age
of majority, with baggy robes and malicious faces. They barely turn away when the snarl
interrupts them.
"Get away from us, you fool!" says one of the cruel boys. "You don't know who we are! We
belong to a very privileged sect, and..."
"I don't care," says Xie Meihua. He doesn't even need to move for Ruoye to do so, whipping
out in painful lashes at the idiots who keep kicking the omega cowering beneath him. Three
of the five alphas fall, stunned and in pain. One of them stands at a distance, one hand on his
sword, the other hand almost trembling at the side of his body. The fifth is the one in front of
him, haughty and proud, as if even Ruoye's strength could not stagger him. "Get out of here.
If I ever hear of you beating him again, I will not just destroy you, I will destroy your sect
altogether. If any of you are miserable enough to beat someone to this level of harassment,
and your sect allows it, it's not worth it."
"You don't decide who's worth it," says the idiot Alpha, and Xie Meihua smirks. This only
seems to irritate him, because he clenches his sword fist tightly. "We belong to the great sect
of...!"
"I don't care," Xie Meihua repeats again. He pushes Ruoye, who wraps himself tightly around
the hilt of the sword and throws it away. The sun throws sparks against the sharp blade before
it plunges into the trees many feets away. "There is no ultimate goal in cruelty other than self-
satisfaction."
"What the fuck does that mean?" asks the alpha still holding the sword.
Xie Meihua directs a small smile at him, sending Ruoye for it, but the alpha backs away
clinging to the hilt with both hands, holding it tightly. Even his strength doesn't stop him from
taking hits and the sword disappears into thin air.
"It means," says Xie Meihua, slowly, "that when I use cruelty on you, I won't be doing it
because you deserve it. I will be doing it because I want to have fun, just as you do at this
person's expense."
"Dare and..."
The Alpha falls silent. Xie Meihua lets his spiritual energy seep out with the first direct hit to
his solar plexus, launching him several feet away. The next who dares to attack him receives
an accurate kick to the forehead.
The others don't dare. They run away like dogs with their tails between their legs, shouting at
each other.
Xie Meihua sighs. That too is part of his familiar routine: picking up rubbish, beating up
rubbish, removing annoying rubbish from the roads. Was that what had made him rise like a
god? He wasn't sure at all. It's one thing to fight idiot Alphas who think they're in control just
because of their birth status. Ghosts, though...
"Are you alright?" he asks, offering to help the omega.
He accompanies him home —along with the boy who is still very worried about his uncle—
where he helps clean and bandage his wounds, covers his bruises with medicinal herbs, and is
in that same place when his sister arrives. The same girl who had prayed in the temple thanks
him with words choked with tears.
Xie Meihua turns off at the exit of the village. It turns out that, following the river, among the
mountainous spaces behind the maple forests, there really is a poorly established cultivation
sect; even if the cloth of the tents is more expensive than that of the robes he is wearing at the
moment. Xie Meihua enters, and it is not the first time he has done this.
It is the first time he is alone taking care of the trash, though.
It is true that the ultimate goal of cruelty is self-satisfaction. His father had patiently taught
him that. However, when Xie Meihua twists his face and fights barely without breaking a
sweat with most of the sect members who dare to stand up to him, he does not do it out of
cruelty: he does it out of anger.
"I request to speak to the leader. Now."

It is not so much a request as an order. The cult leader turns out to be a pathetic fool who is
completely unaware of the quarrels of his subordinates, junior members of the cult, let alone
that they want to expel someone who wants to join said cult just because of their secondary
gender. They are punished, and threats of expulsion add to their punishment.
Evening falls when Xie Meihua guides the cultivation sect leader to the home of the young
omega he helped. The leader asks for the young man's forgiveness, and cordially invites him
to cultivate under his direct protection. As the sect leader and the young omega talk, Xie
Meihua learns their whole story: they moved to the village because of the proximity to the
sect after the brothers' mother died of an illness, the same illness that took the father of the
little boy he played with in the afternoon.
When he returns to the temple the first stars greet from the heavens, but the night has not yet
closed.
"You’re late," his father almost reprimands him. After checking him over, seeing his
reddened knuckles, tousled hair, and looking at Ruoye almost hiding behind his collar with a
clearly guilty attitude, his father guesses: "You got into a fight."
He's not asking. There is amused resignation on his face.
"Not exactly" and briefly tells him all about it as they enter. The prayer is briefly summarised
outside the temple, and once they are settled at the table, he tells him about the boy being
harassed by the alphas for trying to enter the cult as an omega, the indifference of the cult
until they were attacked and exposed. His father's proud smile never fades, even when he
admits that he used spiritual energy to beat up the foolish Alphas.
Maybe he had broken a couple of their bones. He's not entirely sure, nor did he care enough
to ask.
"I didn't know Didi had a habit of getting into fights just because," says San Lang, so
suddenly that Xie Meihua doesn't even expect it. His sleeves are rolled up as he chops
vegetables in the tiny kitchen, but a long bandage completely covers his left arm. He wonders
if he just happened to hurt himself working with his father during the day.
"It's not because," he complains, "It's for justice."
San Lang hums with a satisfied timbre in his voice.
"A-Meihua has a very righteous outlook" compliments Xie Lian. His scent is proud, satisfied,
and Xie Meihua's ears burn. "He's always sticking his nose where it doesn't belong, but they
always end up thanking him."
A-Meihua complains. The “sticking his nose where it wasn't called” didn't count this time,
for the first time, but San Lang had no business knowing about the prayers.
His father laughs, enjoying teasing him.

The soup made by San Lang turns out to be surprisingly good even though the vegetables are
cut unevenly. The broth is tasty, the vegetables are well cooked, and the accompanying
steamed buns are filled with golden, juicy vegetables. It is a good dinner they share,
exchanging relaxed opinions, calm comments, and expectations of what they will do the next
day.
The night envelops them. Xie Meihua stares at a fixed point on the wall until his eyes burn
and he must close them. He sleeps without dreams, just this once, and wakes so relieved he
could cry.
His father has already burnt the tea when he wakes up. San Lang has papers in his hands and
they are working on a sketch of the statue. His father wants him to have a short sword
hanging from his belt, long robes, long hair tied back, and a straight back. Xie Meihua grunts
when his father makes him imitate the exact pose he wants, and almost sobs when San Lang
forces him to stay in that exact position for several minutes while he quickly and nimbly
sketches the statue from various angles.
He is superbly good at drawing, so much so that Xie Meihua envies him.
Before noon the girl from the previous day arrives at the temple. She lights so much incense
that Xie Meihua's cheeks burn, and she, her brother, and son bow in prayer, giving thanks and
showing their devotion. It is then that Xie Meihua decides: "A God who protects cannot show
himself as if he is going to attack. It would intimidate the kids.”
They spend the rest of the morning debating poses for the statue. San Lang seems to find the
situation nothing but amusing as he sketches pose after pose that Xie Lian offers and Xie
Meihua discards. Some are offered by Xie Meihua, but Xie Lian is the one who rejects them,
telling him that they are too humble and would not represent the God and his greatness well,
that the first image of him must be unforgettable, because it will be the one that will go down
in history. It will be the image that will be recreated and recreated in every temple that is built
in his honour.
When it is Xie Meihua's turn to prepare lunch —San Lang, apparently, didn't even expect Xie
Meihua's cooking to be good. He looks amazed and amused when his lunch turns out to be
much more edible and much less burnt than his father's— they still haven't decided what to
do about the statue. San Lang doesn't seem to mind having to keep sketching pose after pose.
Devotees pray, a remarkable pile of them. Xie Meihua doesn't know how much more his
cheeks can redden, but each prayer endows him with a warm energy of his own that doesn't
let him slip away as if nothing is happening. And, for a change, his father leaves his dinner
raw instead of burning it.
The night envelops him, not dark enough for him to see shadows of base slaves who aren't in
the corners, but not light enough to force him to keep his eyes open. He falls asleep terrified
of the dreams he knows he will have, and wakes gasping for air with the terrifying image of
Xuan Ji glaring angrily at him before sending him to almost die.
His father is considerate of his exhaustion and doesn’t force him to pose. During the morning
they finish repairing the roof and begin construction of the outer walls, replacing the fencing.
By the time evening falls, Xie Meihua has taken so many measurements that his head hurts a
little, but his father seems satisfied with how the construction around the temple will be laid
out and how it will be carried out.
"We will live here" his father explains, as if in his excitement he hasn't explained it a
thousand times. Even so, Xie Meihua is unable and unwilling to shut him up. "And here will
be your room, and here will be the kitchen, and here we will arrange the firewood, and
here..."
Xie Meihua listens to him with a warm heart, because after all, it is his home. He doesn't
want to be anywhere else in the whole world.
Night falls. A number of devotees come during the day as they work; they offer incense for
protection on the roads, for protection from thieves, and for protection towards their homes.
Xie Lian burns dinner, they eat, and San Lang washes while humming. When they sleep Xie
Meihua wakes again with racing heart, choking breaths, and clawing at the ground around
him seeking to remind himself that he is not surrounded by base slaves and wolves ready to
devour him alive.
He dives into the river from dark until dawn. He knows he has dark circles under his eyes
that are impossible to hide when he returns, but he makes sure the tea is made without being
burned by his father. He is mixing flour to make steamed buns when he hears the door move
—the new door that has just been built— and turns to greet his father.
But it is not Xie Lian who leaves the room.
San Lang's hair is twisted to one side. He wakes up, yawning, and Xie Meihua smiles at him
and pours him a cup of tea.
"Good morning, San Lang," he greets politely and gives him a playful smile.
"Good morning, Didi," San Lang replies.
He takes a sip of his tea and seems to enjoy it. Xie Meihua returns to his task, squishing the
wet flour between his fingers until it takes shape and which he sets aside in small buns, ready
to roll them together to let the dough rest before baking.
They remain in a comfortable silence. It's more comfortable than all the silence they've ever
had, until Xie Meihua remembers that this is probably a unique opportunity to ask without his
father in the way, so he simply takes courage before asking, "San Lang, do you have feelings
for A-Lian?"
It's so quiet behind his back that Xie Meihua thinks San Lang simply isn't there. But he is
when he looks back and meets his gaze, perplexed.
"What gave Didi that impression?" he asks. Xie Meihua shrugs his shoulders.
What wouldn't give me that impression, he thinks.

"You seem to sigh at every step he takes," he says slowly. He speaks softly, just in case, but
he's sure that San Lang hears him all the same. It's that weird. "You look at him... You look at
him like he's your whole world. You act to protect him from little things: you pull him away
from the fire before he can even get close when he's distracted, you hold a hand hovering
near him every time they're on the ladder. You look to see if there's anything in the way
before you let him pass. It's..." he has no words to describe it. Xie Meihua doesn't know how
love works exactly, beyond scrolls and plays. He believes, if love were a something, it would
definitely be that. "It's very beautiful how you take care of him. That's why I want to know."
San Lang hesitates. There is something in his demeanor and the feeling is there again. The
same feeling from mornings before, when Xie Meihua could feel something there. It's like
seeing something behind murky water. He knows it's there, but no matter how hard he tries to
strain his eyes, he can only see what the water deforms. What glitters is not gold, and what
looks like a jewel may be a sharp piece of pottery.
He forces himself to ignore it.
"Perhaps," San Lang agrees, his voice barely louder than a whisper. Xie Meihua smiles.
"You treat him well," he says. Then he smiles to himself, as if it were absolutely obvious,
"Kindness is A-Lian's undoing."
Hadn't his father said that he had given up eight hundred years of abstinence cultivation just
because an alpha had been kind to him? Xie Meihua doesn't know whether to laugh or cry at
the situation. San Lang is absolutely kind, dedicated, caring; if Xie Lian didn't fall for him,
Xie Meihua would feel genuinely attacked by his father's refusal to pursue his own happiness
alongside a worthy mate.
"Is he?" asks San Lang. Xie Meihua is almost certain it wasn't a question directed at him, so
he ignores it, taking care of his dough and steamed buns.
They are ready a quarter of a sichen later when Xie Lian leaves the room, more asleep than
awake. Come to think of it, it's extremely rare for his father to stay asleep this late in the
morning. Xie Meihua lets it go, it has certainly been an exhausting few days.
"Morning" he mumbles. He washes his face and clears his eyes until he can actually greet in
a much more polite tone, "Ah, good morning, San Lang, A-Lian."
San Lang is already there, moving the chair for Xie Lian to take a seat. It's so sweet that it
seems funny. Xie Meihua sets the table, pours a cup of hot tea for his father, and pours
another cup for San Lang and another for himself. They sit in comfortable silence at
breakfast, with Ruoye fidgeting restlessly in Xie Lian's sleeves, as if trying to wake him up.
Xie Meihua thinks his father stayed up late talking to San Lang because of the dark circles
under his eyes, but he can't be sure.
For years, it had been just them; should he be upset that someone else was hogging his
father's attention? After all, it had always been two against the world, and now three?
And inspiration suddenly strikes him.

"Oh" says Xie Meihua. "Now I understand why the statues of His Midnight Highness aren't
working."
"Hmn?" hums his father, curious. He takes a sip of his tea. Just to spare him the misfortune of
choking on his tea, Xie Meihua waits for his father to finish swallowing before continuing.
"Of course. His Midnight Highness is of royal blood, he is known as His Highness for a
reason. However, there is nothing in his temples that recalls the Kingdom whose blood runs
through His Highness's veins, and the depictions that evoke him as a Martial God are just
nonsense far removed from his true work. He is no Martial God, but a Protector God."
"That's curious," San Lang motivates him. He seems quick to understand what Xie Meihua is
getting at, and he is comfortable with his familiarity, with his skilled mind at his side. "So
you should have something of said realm in your statue?"
"Much better" says Xie Meihua. His smile is fully charged with love and devotion as he
continues, "His Midnight Highness should be accompanied with The Flower Crowned
Martial God, The Crown Prince. He is his father, after all."
Xie Lian makes such a choking sound that Xie Meihua is sure that, had he been drinking the
tea, he would have a horrendous coughing fit at that moment.
"I'm afraid the Crown Prince seems to have a curse," Xie Lian quickly explains. "Anyone
who bows down to him is doomed to have cursed bad luck."
"It is fortunate that His Midnight Highness has good luck," smiles Xie Meihua. "He will
bestow good luck on his father and all who pray for him, and protect the common people at
his side."
He turns to look at San Lang, seeking his approval, and all too soon realises that he is
actively seeking San Lang's approval as if it is something important. It feels like seeking
something important. His cheeks redden, but his aren't the only ones - Xie Lian looks as
flushed as if he's feverish.
"You're too sweet, A-Meihua," he says slowly, his tone of voice totally affected.
Xie Meihua sees his father's face, cheeks rosy and eyes too bright, not understanding why the
overreaction. He was almost certain that, with his statement, his father would refuse and be
annoyed. He would even mock him, or demand that he not talk such nonsense. It would lead
to a silly quarrel that had nothing to discuss but mutual mockery.
However, it seems...
A wisp of wind pushes the scent towards him. Sweet. Too sweet.
A roar escapes from between his teeth before he can control it.
"Get out" he growls to San Lang. He has no control over his movements; all his instincts
scream protect, and Xie Meihua can only obey his instincts more than ever before. "Get out
NOW."
"A-Meihua...?" his father's voice is weak. He even seems to want to scold him, but he is as
weak as a feather.
"I said get out!" The fierce roar that comes from inside his chest is protective. He stands in
the path between San Lang and Xie Lian baring his teeth. San Lang stands, backing away,
utter confusion pushing his features into bewilderment.
The wind from the window carries Xie Lian's scent against them once more, stronger this
time. Xie Meihua growls again with a roar that erupts from his chest into his teeth, far more
dangerous and imposing than he has roared before, as San Lang's pupils dilate.
San Lang seems to understand immediately.
"I'll be outside," San Lang says tersely.
Everything about his stance is rigidity and tension. Self-control. A self-control that is
noticeable in the way his veins are suddenly marked with greenish-blue strength in his neck,
every sinew tense as he stands ready to face Xie Meihua in front of him. Despite that, he
walks away, and the roar in Xie Meihua's chest diminishes to a dull growl.
"Meihua," his father complains, obviously uncomprehending despite the fever. "What are you
supposed to...?"
And suddenly a strangled sound erupts from his throat. Xie Lian leans over himself and Xie
Meihua notices how his face crosses with unexpected pain; there is surprise there, but at the
same time, realisation about the situation around him.
"Have you taken your herbs since our house collapsed?" Is the first thing he asks.
The look on his father's face is absolutely guilty and Xie Meihua groans in despair, jumping
into the kitchen and rummaging through the tea bags for some herbal tea that might help his
father in this state. By the time he pulls out something that smells similar enough to the
herbal blends his father recognises, he is already making pained sounds, clutching his
stomach.
Without herbs, the preheat is the most painful part.
Chapter End Notes
HC: I have spent the best days of my life being domestic with gege and his son, what
could go wrong?
XL: *gets into heat*
HC: fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfu-
THIS WAS GOING TO HAPPEN, YOUR HONOUR

I've linked this fic to a series, why? because I plan to write in-universe oneshots at some
point. You know, things that could happen here but there wasn't really any time to fully
develop it- You're free to ask for oneshots if you'd like to read something specific!
As always, thank you so much for reading, kudos, comments, it all makes my life
REALLY MEANINGFUL. When I started publish this I really didn't imagine the huge
and beautiful reception it would get. I feel happy every day thanks to this. Thank you so
much to you for making this possible
See you in the next chapter my dear! <3

Preheat
Chapter Summary
Xie Lian enters in his preheat. Xie Meihua tries to help, but San Lang is the real help
there.
Chapter Notes
Did I tell you that I am extremely grateful for every comment, kudo and people who
bookmark me? It's literally the only thing that has kept me alive these days
Thanks to Red for being a beta reader of this chapter and for being the best beta reader
out there! <3
Someone asked me in the previous chapter whether Xie Lian would be a sex-starved
omega or a family affection-starved one... well, my answer is: yes
Xie Meihua swaps old tea for the new herbal tea. His pulse trembles with nerves as, oblivious
to the heat of the water, his father gulps it down for relief. Tears glisten in his eyes.
"I'm sorry," Xie Lian apologises. He sounds truly sorry and consumed with guilt, "Ah, I'm
sorry, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to... There was so much going on that I just forgot. But it wasn't
supposed to happen now, though... We're not at the end of the month yet and..."
"It's not your fault," Xie Meihua sighs, he knows it's not.
If they had gotten a normal place in a village without the responsibilities of a temple or
missions typical of being a God, of course his father could be more aware of himself. He
rummages through the drawers for more herbs, noticing that the ones he has don't smell
exactly the same as the ones he remembers. Their scent is similar though.
"Are these them?" he asks, holding them out to his father. He nods, but then denies.
"Those are for the heat," he says. "They'll make it softer. Less uncomfortable. Less- " another
sound of pain. Xie Meihua grits his teeth as his father hugs himself, seized by uncomfortable
cramps, "less embarrassing."
They both understand what it means, no shameful mating urges, a medicine capable of almost
completely numbing the animal libido of the heats. However, it is not enough.
"Nothing for the pain?" he asks. His father denies.
"Fuck," he curses. He doesn't get a scolding this time and despairs; his father seems to have
fallen into the warm-up too quickly, too easily.
Was Xie Lian so comfortable with San Lang for his instincts to surprise him like that?
With a resigned sigh, Xie Meihua sticks his head out the window, not even startled to see San
Lang still there.
"San Lang?" he calls. The alpha approaches almost immediately, too quickly, and Xie Meihua
makes sure to release just enough pheromones that his father's pre-warming scent isn't too
aggressive even from the outside. "I'm sorry I growled at you just now. It was an instinct. Do
you think you can go into town and buy some herbs for the pain? I need cinnamon, mint,
peppermint and..."
"I'll go," San Lang interrupts him. He doesn't seem to have the patience to stand alone taking
instructions; there is a fixed determination in his gaze. "Anything else?"
"I don't have money for more," he apologises.
His voice sounds embarrassed; he knows it's his instinct, more so now than ever. He needs to
know he can protect and provide for his family, something he knows he can't. He has gold,
but in the village, he's hardly going to get good buyers who will pay a fair price. He also has
merits that are offered in burning incense every day, but what good are merits to him in the
human world? And he is definitely not ascending to apply for a healer and become indebted
again to the Heavens. "The herbs should be enough to..."
"I'll buy whatever he needs with my money," says San Lang. And Xie Meihua bites the inside
of his cheek because, what other chance will he have?
"Pillows," he says. They don't have one in the whole house, other than the kneeling cushion,
and it has so many cross scents that he knows it will only make his father worse. "Soft
fabrics. Sheets. Something comfortable. He needs a nest. We have plenty of fresh fruit, but
anything calorific is fine. Meat. Something nourishing. Maybe candies."
Behind his back, Xie Lian lets out another groan that sends even more stiffness into San
Lang's posture.
If Xie Meihua can admire anything, at that moment, it is his great self-control. He can see the
way the tension sets in his shoulders and neck muscles, and no matter how much the wind is
in his favour, he can't even smell the affected pheromones of the alpha in front of him. Even
if he is obviously very instinctively affected, there are no possessive or aggressive
pheromones wanting to mark territory.
It's something to admire.
"I'll be back as soon as possible," says San Lang, and strides off.
Xie Meihua turns as soon as he sees him leave the garden, hurrying towards his father. His
face is flushed, his eyes bright with tears.
"I'm sorry, A-die," he whispers. He walks over and lifts him; his father is heavy in his arms,
but not heavy enough to stagger him. Despite the frailty that seems to wash over him at that
moment, Xie Meihua knows his father is a firm muscle hidden behind baggy robes. "San
Lang will get you something comfortable. You'll be fine."
Xie Lian lets out a faint whimper.
"Ah," he says after a moment. "You shouldn't take care of this silly old father. This is all my
fault..."
Contrary to his words, however, Xie Lian settles against his neck, sniffing his familiar,
protective pheromones, relaxing into the contact. Xie Meihua lets a bit of his familiar,
reassuring scent release, relaxing his father against him. It's not the pheromones of a mate,
but it's his pup, and Xie Lian coos with his feverish face pressed against his neck, relaxing.
"I'm always going to take care of you, A-die," he murmurs.
The room Xie Lian and San Lang share is smaller than his own, and on the mat is only a
tattered robe. There are barely any pheromones wafting in the air; his father's relaxed, sweet
ones just before he enters his warm-up, and a soothing, almost distant, flowery scent creeping
through the air. Xie Meihua settles his father there, who automatically curls into a foetal
position.
"My pup, my treasure," he whispers. His voice is laden with tenderness and sadness, and Xie
Meihua pushes his hair away from his father's sweaty forehead, hearing him whimper. "You
grew up too fast."
"I'm still your pup," Xie Meihua complains; he removes his outer robe and settles it at his
father's side, and the way it clings against the cloth like a nest is so sad that his heart aches.
"Tell your hormones not to try to replace me with another pup so soon. I'm not even of age
yet. You can still keep spoiling me."
Xie Lian laughs and Xie Meihua takes that as a triumph.
"My treasure, my heart," his voice comes out almost like a sob. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry..."
"It's okay," Xie Meihua kneels down beside him. He rubs soothing circles against his back,
his father almost hiccupping. His face is so pink you can tell his fever even from a distance,
and his eyes are slightly absent, bright with tears. "You don't have to apologise, A-die."
Despite that, his father keeps repeating apology after apology with teary eyes until finally,
after what seems like an eternity, the herbs seem to take effect against his preheating. Xie
Meihua knows they are not the best herbs, and that they will probably bring a rebound effect
towards his hormones later, but as his father's scent begins to become less cloying and his
own protective instincts lower until he can barely feel them, the tension in his own shoulders
begins to relax.
His father drapes himself in his red robe. He curls into a small, trembling position, and Xie
Meihua rubs small circles against his shoulder blades. They are movements he intends to be
gentle, soothing and familiar. He rubs his wrists against his father's, scenting him with his
familiar smell.
On other occasions, that had been enough. This time, however, Xie Meihua doesn't know if
it's the new herbs or that San Lang's scent still lingers in the room, because his father stirs in
discomfort, small sounds of pain welling up from deep in his throat.
"I'm sorry," Xie Meihua apologises, unable to do more than that. It's not the first time either,
that his father's preheating has rushed into a painful peak, attacking him by surprise.
However, when it happened before, they were both prepared. If Xie Lian had no herbs, Xie
Meihua had saved some, or they had omega neighbours who could gift them with a small
pouch full of useful herbs. If Xie Meihua had nothing with him, Xie Lian had already taken
care of that on his own.
Neither of them had expected it this time. Xie Meihua can't help but feel guilty, and he can't
help that it seeps into his scent either.
His father lets out another choked groan.
"It's not your fault," he says quietly. "Meihua, my boy, my treasure, it's not your fault. None
of this is. It's my responsibility, something that," he interrupts himself with another whimper.
Xie Meihua wants to quiet him, but can't stop shaking, "It's something I should have
remembered and taken care of. It's not your fault at all."
"But, A-die..." he begins, but his father denies.
"You're the best pup in the world," he says in a much softer voice. "The son anyone would
wish to have. You're brave, strong, responsible, but you're still just a boy. You don't have to
have that burden on your shoulders. You don't have to take care of me when I should be
taking care of myself."
Xie Meihua vision blurs at the edges. When he blinks, he notices that he might be crying.
"I'm sorry," he apologises again, but his father pulls on him with barely any strength, hugging
him. He rubs his back gently and his hair in such small, sweet, soothing motions that Xie
Meihua feels all the tension in his sore back from the bad rest and nightmares recede. He
wants to cry. He wants to curl up next to his father and cry in his arms until there is no pain to
run away from.
Unexpectedly, loud and impatient knocks almost seem to batter the door down. With a
faltering breath, Xie Meihua turns away from his father, wiping away his own treacherous
tears before rushing to the door, not even surprised when San Lang appears there. He is
surprised when he sees the pile of blankets, pillows and clothes the young man brings in his
arms.
They are expensive. He can tell at a glance: too expensive, made of luxurious and visually
soft fabric, and without any smell. The blankets and pillows are piled up almost to San Lang's
chin, and almost cover him completely as San Lang passes them from his arms to Xie
Meihua's.
A moment later, San Lang sets several packets of herbs on the table to one side. There are
some scented pads there, and what look like several glass bottles typical of pharmaceutical
apothecaries filled with some liquid he can't identify, but he's sure that all their workings
must be detailed on the label.
"I'll be back with the food in a moment," San Lang says before closing the door, perhaps
louder than he should, disappearing behind it. Xie Meihua balances the blankets before
walking as fast as he can into the room, where his father hugs himself, shivering.
"San Lang got some things," is all he says, quickly leaving the pile of blankets within Xie
Lian's reach.
When his father raises his head his pupils are fully dilated; he's too far into his preheat, and
his instincts are pushing too fast for him to even refuse, to complain about the obvious
expensive price, or to turn it down. He moves almost automatically like a puppet, sitting up
on the mat, pulling various blankets and sheets closer to himself.
The look in his eyes is almost disorienting; he is sure his instincts are screaming at him that,
even though his pup means no danger, it is not safe to nestle close to anyone. Xie Meihua
steps back a little, stepping aside with a defeated sigh, leaving his father to build his nest and
going after the herbs.
He peruses the characters on the bags of herbs. He brews a tea with the herbal set that
promises to lessen the pain, and after reading the labels on the medicine bottles (being greatly
surprised by one label in particular that makes his eyebrows raise), he decides on one that
will help the omega in preheat not suffer the need to be bound. He peeks into his father's
room for a bit, checking on him, finding him still building the nest. There are several layers
of blankets on the straw mat, and all around, pillows are piled high and snug. Among them is
the robe Xie Meihua left him, making him smile a little.
"A-die," he says softly from the doorway. Xie Lian looks up, gazing at him with bright eyes
with huge dilated pupils, as if he is heavily drugged. Xie Meihua stops at the door, holding
the cup with the tea and medicine. "May I come in?"
Xie Lian hesitates a little. Xie Meihua can see his hands tremble a little around the cloth he is
holding.
"It's okay if you say no," he says quickly. His father didn't usually nest; however, when he
did, the few times he had been able to, he wouldn't let Xie Meihua near his nest until it was
perfect. "I brought tea with more herbs. And medicine. You need to apply it on your scent
glands so they don't hurt."
Xie Lian struggles to his feet and steps out of the nest. His legs seem to tremble and Xie
Meihua clings tightly to what little sanity he has not to rush to help his father, who staggers to
where he stands and drinks the tea in quick gulps.
"Thank you," he whispers. He hands him back the cup and Xie Meihua hands him the bottle
of medicine Xie Lian carries to his nest; Xie Meihua watches a little absently as his father
uncaps it and drops on his wrists, rubbing them together, rubbing both on his neck. His thick
scent against the room doesn't even change, but Xie Meihua hopes it will lessen his pain and
need soon.
"Tell me whatever it is you need," he almost begs. His father nods quickly before going back
to tugging at the blanket; it's such a vibrant red colour that his old robes lie dull beside it and,
for a moment, Xie Meihua wonders if San Lang really bought those things for his father or
took them from somewhere. They don't look like new fabrics, but like used fabrics,
comfortable and soft, but perfectly cared for.
The door is again almost blown down by the knocking. Xie Meihua opens it, finding San
Lang again; he looks a little dishevelled this time, as if the journey had been much harder,
and in his arms he carries a pot of dark material. He sets it down on the kitchen table. Its
aroma is so exquisite that Xie Meihua feels he hasn't eaten anything as hearty as that in a long
time.
"Beef noodle soup," says San Lang. He rummages through a bag hanging to one side and
pulls out more paper bags with tiny oil stains on them. "Stuffed buns. Mooncakes. Candies
from..."
"Thank you," says Xie Meihua. He can't say more than that, but he hopes the true gratitude in
his voice shows. "You have no idea how much I appreciate you doing this for A-Lian."
"I would do anything for Gege," San Lang says, and he says it with such devotion and
tenderness that Xie Meihua can only smile and say:
"I know."
"I'll go now," San Lang says, turning around after taking the last of the bags of food from the
bag slung over his shoulder, but Xie Meihua stops him.
"Your smell is under control now and he won't have a strong heat because of the herbs," he
says slowly. He doesn't know what instincts are pushing him at that moment, but he simply
says, "You can stay if you keep your distance. Or not, if it's too… hard for you."
San Lang's look is confused. A moment later, he nods.
"I'll stay then."
"And," Xie Meihua gestures, pointing to one of the glass bottles on the table. It's small,
barely a couple of gulps of a strongly herbal-scented and rather thick medicine, "I appreciate
it, but I didn't need you to bring that bottle of medicine. It's supposed to curb Alpha instincts
and quash any chance of them having a pheromone-induced rut, but I don't need it. A-Lian
and I are immediate family, so his pheromones don't work on me that way."
"I know," San Lang says, shrugging. "It's for me."

Xie Meihua lets his mouth drop open in astonishment.
"Are you serious?" he asks.
Few Alphas he knew had actually been willing to sacrifice something they considered normal
to themselves, like the emergence of their own rut. Much less would they have been willing
to put strong herbs into their bodies on the grounds that it would weaken them.
"Of course I’m serious," and as if that weren't enough, San Lang opens the bottle and, in long
gulps, empties its contents completely into his mouth. Xie Meihua watches him swallow in
amazement. "If I'm going to be even minimally around for whatever Gege needs, I have to
avoid being affected so I can bring whatever he requires."
The edges of Xie Meihua's eyes sting. His vision blurs for a moment as his own throat
tightens.
"Damn," he groans, wiping away tears. San Lang looks at him as if he doesn't understand his
emotional outburst at all. "If A-Lian and you don't get married, I'm going to be mad as hell at
both of you."
It is San Lang's turn to look at him in obvious astonishment. However, before either of them
can say anything, a strangled sound comes from Xie Lian's room. Both Xie Meihua and San
Lang rush towards the sound, finding Xie Lian huddled between blankets and pillows, a
sound of pain rising from him.
"A-die?" he lets the question slip out. He's not in a particularly good state of mind to lie. If
San Lang finds that name strange, he doesn't say it.
"It's not good," says his father. He buries his face in the robe Xie Meihua left him, another
strangled whimper from his throat. "It doesn't feel good."
"What's that?" asks Xie Meihua softly. His father groans.
"The nest," he says. It's a soft sound, barely, but Xie Meihua hears it. "It's not complete. I
need... I need..."
"It's a perfect nest," Xie Meihua tries to flatter. He doesn't know how to deal with that. Rarely
has his father nested, and rarely had he seemed to need more than a couple of blankets and
robes. Was it that there were few robes with him? Xie Meihua could even give him the under
robe he was currently wearing if he needed it. "You've done a good job..."
His father lets out another groan, disagreeing. He buries his head even more between blankets
and pillows, his body trembling. The look Xie Meihua casts towards San Lang, almost a step
behind him, is desperate. He doesn't know what to do. Perhaps San Lang attended an omega
before? It feels almost familiar the way he knew what herbs, what medicines, and what kind
of blankets were soft and perfect for his nest.
San Lang clears his throat.

"Gege?" he asks. His voice is an octave lower, but soft. Xie Meihua steps aside for San Lang
to step a single foot inside the room, hesitant. "What can I bring you to complete your nest?
I'll bring whatever you need, whatever you want. Just tell me and I'll..."
"San Lang," Xie Lian's voice is completely strangled. "San Lang, San Lang, San Lang..."
"Gege, tell me," San Lang begs. He doesn't seem to dare take another step into the room, but
Xie Meihua could almost push him inside. "Tell me what you need and I'll..."
"San Lang," Xie Lian almost cries again, and it's so absurd the way Xie Meihua understands
that, against all his logic, and he laughs rolling his eyes.
"He's begging for you," Xie Meihua says, now giving him a shove. His hands tremble at
pushing against San Lang; he is absolutely massive, as if he is not a slender young man of
refined appearance, but as if something much heavier and stronger is hidden there. "Go."
Xie Meihua backs up a little, just a step, and San Lang advances that same step hesitantly.
His whole body is stiff at the thick scent enclosed in the room, but he seems to relax more as
he hesitantly advances step after hesitant step.
"Gege?" asks San Lang again, and Xie Lian finally raises his head. His hand reaches out to
him without hesitation. "Can I come in...?"
"San Lang," and his father's voice is charged with a blinding longing. Xie Meihua looks
away. "Come here."
"I'll set up the kitchen. San Lang, take care of him," he almost begs, fleeing before he has to
watch San Lang shed his boots to enter his father's nest. His heart chimes with annoyance,
and it is not until he takes a seat in the chair surrounded by all the food, herbs and medicine
San Lang has brought that he realises what it is that is truly bothering him.
Xie Meihua has tried to look after his father all the time, from everyone, from himself and his
negative thoughts. He has sought to be there for him, to help him, but even so, San Lang has
only been with him for a couple of days and that's all Xie Lian needs.
He shouldn't feel so bad. It's true that his father wasn't going to need his help, or his support,
all the time. There are obvious things where Xie Meihua can be a great nuisance to his father
rather than a great help. And it is true that, even though Xie Meihua is his pup, Xie Lian's
instincts would not seek to take responsibility for his pup when he needs to be protected by
an Alpha. An Alpha who has proven to be able to provide for him and care for him.
And San Lang is... magnificent for his father. He's attentive, protective, skilled, hardworking,
and obviously has the money to care for Xie Lian. He should be satisfied and comfortable
that his father's instincts are claiming San Lang alongside him, not isolating himself and
kicking them both out.
However, even if it's just a little, it hurts. It has always been the two of them against the
world. And it's not that San Lang can't be welcome in their world, it's that he'd simply been
struggling for so long with the latent responsibility that he should care for his father that now,
in that moment, all he can feel is that if he doesn't care for his father, what will he do?
With a defeated sigh he sets about tidying up the kitchen. He arranges the pot full of hearty
food next to the cooker, clears the table, and arranges the buns, mooncakes and candies in
different bowls. When he finishes he feels that even then he has done nothing, just slumped
against the wall, feeling himself trembling.
If he can't take care of his father, and if his father no longer needs him, what will he do?
He closes his eyes, seeking to escape from his own fears, even into his own nightmares.
Chapter End Notes
Xie Meihua: If A-Lian and you don't get married, I'm going to be mad as hell at both of
you
Hua Cheng: *collapsing ghost king noises*
Also:
Xie Meihua: I want my father to be happy and have everything he deserves

San Lang: *makes Xie Lian happy and gives him everything he deserves*
Xie Meihua: I'm useless in my father's life now *cries*
My baby is a drama queen, impossible to deny it lmao
To the person who asked the question, YES, actually Xie Lian's heat is very sex hungry
like the usual omega heats, but he will have medicine and family, so his heat will turn
into a family affection hunger- It was a decision made in the fact that I didn't really want
to add sex scenes in this fic. But, you know, I made a series- The future sex scenes will
be in separate oneshots there *wink wink*
Thank you very, very much for reading! As always, if we don't see you on Twitter, see
you in the next chapter honey! <3
Heat
Chapter Summary
Xie Lian goes into heat, but for the first time in years, he once again has an Alpha to
accompany him in his nest.
Chapter Notes
*gets up like Mushu* I'M ALIVE

Yes look I HAVE HAD EXAMS, I HAVE HAD HEALTH PROBLEMS, but hey, I'M
HERE AND THAT'S WHAT COUNTS, and also on twitter, where I'm all the time
sharing nonsense and hualian
THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR EVERY COMMENT AND EVERY READ I literally
never check the stats BUT THE OTHER DAY I CHECKED THEM AND ???? I DON'T
THINK IT'S REAL THANK YOU SO MUCH I LOVE YOU YOU ARE THE
REASON I'M ALIVE
And as always, thank you THANK YOU SO MUCH TO RED FOR BETAREADED,
this chapter would be absolutely full of mistakes all the time if it wasn't for them
All Xie Lian can feel for what feels like hours is a cloud of boiling confusion. Under his skin,
he feels heat creeping, like lava taking the place of blood in his body. He can feel his senses
saturated, racing, along with his heart. For what feels like too long, all Xie Lian can focus on
are his instincts.
He needs a comfortable nest. He builds fabric walls, arranges them, and rearranges them. He
makes piles of blankets until his back stops bothering him when he lies down, mixes the
smell of his pup against the pillows, but even then it's not enough.
He needs... he needs...
Soon, a new smell is there. He melts into his nest (from a distance, his mind consciously
gives him permission to go in there. He can feel himself pleading, he can feel his body
moving around looking for the scent more closely), and Xie Lian settles him against the
blankets as if it were something else that could decorate his nest making it perfect.
Almost. The scent of his pup is almost fading, but he hardly lets himself be carried away by
that dissatisfaction, because the new scent so soft, flowery and beautiful is there; lovely and
soothing his need, so Xie Lian allows himself to curl up on it and sleep.
He wakes up in the clouds, again, with the feeling of an intruder approaching. His instincts
urge him to defend his nest, but there are soft, comfortable words he recognises.
"Just bring the food."
The bowl is too warm against his hands, but the aroma is exquisite, and when Xie Lian tastes
the noodle soup he can feel the exact flavour of vegetables and meat making him shiver.
The scent of his pup is close, recognisable to him this time. Xie Lian pulls him close and,
soon, he is surrounded by comfortable, soft scents that creep into the perfection of his nest. A
soft, flowery scent on his side, the scent of his pup on the other side, enveloped by them both,
protected, safe.
His instincts had never been this intense before. Xie Lian took it upon himself for too long
not to give in to the more primal instincts of his nature, but for some reason his body seemed
to demand it now more than ever. It demanded that he cuddle with the familiar scents, it
demanded that he settle among his family, it demanded they stay with him nurturing him in
his nest.
The food vanished too soon. Xie Lian is not sure how, but meat buns reach his mouth,
probably being fed to him by one of the two people in his nest.
He is comfortable when he snuggles against his pup, holding him close, perhaps uttering
words he can't remember, and hearing soft soothing words from him. He is comfortable when
the flowery, protective scent envelops him, and his heart races as he settles in, sniffing
directly over his glands, where the protective scent is so strong it makes him shiver.
He’s safe. He’s safe. He’s safe.
He had never felt so safe.
He goes back to sleep although he is not sure how. There is no pain anywhere in his body, not
even the severe cramps that had stopped his movements earlier; he is distantly aware of
affectionate strokes on his hair, soothing circles on his back, and when he wakes up, none of
them have stopped. There is hardly any light in the room, though.
He drinks medicine. His pup talks about it being something that will help him, but he can't
quite understand the words. They slip away, float away, and fade away in his mind, unable to
process logical thoughts. Xie Lian drinks and the bitter taste is unpleasant, but he allows
himself to drink the medicine and another herbal tea that tastes too spicy.
He goes back to eating. He refuses the soup that feels heavy in his mouth after the medicine
and tea. This time, he accepts mooncakes and fruit. He purrs as his pup laughs as he wipes
his face from the drops of juice that escape from his bites, and also smiles as, beside him, San
Lang (he can recognise him now, protectively over him, warm and soft beside him) brushes
his hair, tying it in a bun high up so that it is not a nuisance against the warm skin of his neck.
He’s safe.
He goes back to sleep.
He wakes up again. It's dark, still, but he needs... And what he needs is there. The scent of
flowers bursts so close that Xie Lian can even lick it on the roof of his mouth. San Lang hugs
him gently, rubs his back, says a pile of words that sound soothing and lull him back to sleep.
He wakes up again. When he does, the first breath of air filled with the flower-scented Alpha
pheromones makes his face burn. There is a desperation twisting in his chest, his hands itch,
his skin feels uncomfortable. He feels embarrassed, his own body reacting slightly to the
warmth and comfort, and there are voices. There's a conversation he can't quite make out, but
his pup moves from his side and Xie Lian catches himself whimpering.
"I have to go," says his pup in a soft voice. "I need to prepare herbs and..."
Xie Lian whimpers again. His pup scents their wrists together, the scent there soothing his
sobbing so quickly that he can hardly feel weak and ashamed for having reacted in such an
instinctively foolish way.
"You'll be fine," says his pup. His voice is more distant, now, and Xie Lian cradles his
scented wrists against his chest. "San Lang will take care of you."
He leaves. Xie Lian drops back against his nest; it is warm, comfortable, but his skin itches.
It is too warm and he tries to force the outer robe off himself, but two soft hands on his stop
him.
The hands are cold. Xie Lian almost moans as he pulls his hands closer, against his boiling
face. He presses them against his cheeks and shudders, a fierce shiver running from his head
to his toes, as San Lang gently strokes his cheeks with his thumbs.
"Gege doesn't have to..." says San Lang, but Xie Lian interrupts him.
"I'm hot," he complains. He feels ashamed for complaining like that, but his skin itches and
burns. He is burning. "It bothers me. It's uncomfortable."
San Lang helps him shed his outer robe now. His hands are extremely soft, delicate; the touch
of his fingers feels like feathers as he pulls the fabrics aside.
"Open up, Gege," says San Lang, and Xie Lian obeys without hesitation. Fresh water falls
between his lips and Xie Lian drinks with more thirst than he thought he had. He drinks in
steady gulps, pausing when San Lang removes the cup from his mouth to allow him to
breathe. The cup empties and Xie Lian feels slightly refreshed, which might change,
considering the dull heat pushing on his every muscle.
All of his muscles burn. His legs feel weak, and he feels slightly clammy, but there is not too
much or worrying dampness. He can't even smell his own scent through the herbs and
medicines, which is a relief, and his body isn't even reacting to his own pheromones. Xie
Lian is absolutely certain that he must not even look more than a slightly foolish and feverish
young man, because San Lang doesn't even seem affected by his heat pheromones.
Suddenly, Xie Lian wants to slap himself. Emotions lash him like a blow. Why would he want
San Lang to be affected by his heat pheromones? He's being stupid and hides his head in
pillows, omitting a sob.
"Gege?" asks San Lang. There are gentle caresses again, his hair being pushed away from his
sweaty nape, delicate hands tracing soothing patterns against his back. "Is Gege all right?"
Xie Lian nods his head. Then, the despair in his chest grows so strong that he lets out a groan,
so he denies.
The sensations that drive him are chaos. He feels like chaos himself; there are too many
emotions, too few thoughts, too many sensations and too little sanity in his every action. He
knows that having an alpha he barely knows like San Lang in his nest should be dangerous,
but he also knows he can't push him away. He feels comfortable. San Lang in his nest feels
like...
As if it was made for him.
The despair in his chest heaves and Xie Lian whimpers through tears he won't allow himself
to shed. He rubs his wrists against his neck, trembling, but even that doesn't seem enough. He
needs his alpha. He needs him. And he wants to cling to San Lang, wants to hold him there,
and wants his floral scent to watch over him while San Lang holds him tight against him, but
he knows his alpha...
He can't do that. He can't do that.
He can't betray his alpha like that. He would get angry. If his alpha gets angry he would never
make a bonding mark on him. They would never bond. San Lang's is good, and it's soft, and
it's beautiful, and it smells like home. But his alpha...
"What's the matter? San Lang!" there are voices above his sobs.
"I don't know, I don't know! All of a sudden he started to..."
"Hold him, hold him! Don't let him pull his hair-"
"I'm trying. I'm trying!”
Xie Lian is carried away by shadows, clouds, bitter feelings and pain. When he returns to
coherence, he is enveloped in the scent of his pup, who holds him protectively against him.
There is heavy throbbing against his ear and the need in his glands to be bitten and bound no
longer burns.
His heart no longer burns because he feels unable to resist betraying his alpha.
"The medicine has to be put in every day," his puppy is saying in a soft voice. "It's lucky he
left it nearby."
There is another response that Xie Lian doesn’t recognise. He goes back to sleep.
He wakes up so hot he wants to scream.
"It burns," he says, and his pup pushes him an inch away from his body. "Hot. Very. It hurts.
Burns."
It’s too strong. It pushes under his skin and against his insides with an unpleasant feeling of
emptiness. His body reacts too uncomfortably this time under his robes, and Xie Lian
watches his pup helplessly, wanting to beg him to leave before it becomes obvious, tears
welling up in the corners of his eyes. These are not things pups should see. Perhaps he says it
out loud, because his pup lets out a sigh, slowly letting go, carefully moving away from the
nest.
"I'll look for more herbs," he excuses himself. He leaves too quickly, and the empty space
next to him in the nest hurts a little.
His insides hurt more. His chest hurts. Each accelerated heartbeat hurts, hurts as much as if it
were pushing against his whole body. He feels himself trembling as San Lang leaves a gentle
caress on his forehead, brushing strands of hair away from sweaty skin.
"Gege wants me to leave?" he asks, but the thought is maddeningly horrible. Xie Lian clings
to him so tightly he can almost hear San Lang gasp.
"No," he says, determined. "No, no, no, no, no"
"It's okay," and there are little caresses; maybe they're not even caresses, it's just San Lang
pushing away the strands of his hair stuck to his boiling skin, trying to take away most of the
discomfort, but they feel like caresses and his skin tingles.
"No," he denies now, pulling away a little from his hand. It's not okay. He shouldn't do that.
He shouldn't. "No."
"I won't do anything to Gege," says San Lang. His voice is a coo, and Xie Lian sniffs the air.
There is no scent of alpha affected, and though his insides ache (and his instincts scream.
Isn't he a good omega? Isn't he being nice to his San Lang? Doesn't he smell good enough?
Hasn't he been good?) his heart feels calm. "No, Gege, it's not like that," says San Lang, and
Xie Lian cocks his head slightly, confused. Had he said those things out loud? From the
expression on San Lang's face, he's sure he did. "This San Lang drank his own herbal
medicine so that Gege wouldn't feel uncomfortable next to him. This one doesn't have a
single instinct on the surface right now, other than the need to help Gege feel safe."
Something presses against Xie Lian's chest. It is soft, gentle, but cruel. It tears him down and
tears him apart, makes him feel so small and vulnerable that he wants to cry, but at the same
time, so protected and safe that he wants to hide right in that corner of San Lang's neck,
where his scent feels sweeter, sweeter, more....
"Come," says San Lang, and Xie Lian isn't sure he can actually keep his mouth shut and stop
babbling nonsense with a mind full of soothing herbs, because San Lang extends his neck in
a totally submissive manner letting Xie Lian settle in there, smelling just above his scent
gland. It's not something an Alpha would normally do, but Xie Lian pounces, drawn by the
sweet scent. It's a little puffy under his nose, but the aroma there is powerfully intoxicating,
and when he lands his lips there in a more-than-primal instinct to sniff a little harder over the
slightly puffy surface, he can feel San Lang gasp.
He quickly moves away.
"I'm sorry," he apologises, totally dizzy. He is overwhelmed. He is too overwhelmed: he is a

chaos of need, instinct, desire and fire. His skin burns, his insides burn, he feels unbearably
empty and, for the first time, he can feel the very smell of his arousal wafting out. He wants
to cry with shame. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry."
"Gege has nothing to apologise for," said San Lang, kindly, as if his voice an octave lower
was nothing out of the ordinary. Anyone could be affected, instincts or not, if they pressed
against his scent gland as Xie Lian had done. "This San Lang has everything under control.
It's normal for Gege to react that way. Omegas without a mate need to..."
San Lang keeps talking, but Xie Lian grits his teeth as his insides burn. It is the burning of
emptiness, uncomfortable and annoying, chaotic and sliding in tides of sordid chaos. Without
a mate, without a mate, he is an omega without a partner, he is....
But he is not.
"In fact, I have a mate," says Xie Lian, interrupting him, totally overwhelmed. The words
come out of his mouth almost automatically. It's hard to say them, and it hurts, because his
mate isn't there, but he tries so hard that his head spins. It may be the fever, or the desperation
trapped inside his chest, but he says it as a way of reminding himself before he does
something crazy.
"Oh?" asks San Lang, his voice soft with doubt.
"I have," Xie Lian repeats, closing his eyes. His face burns, his neck burns, his chest is on
fire, but he can't do anything but make it clear to him. He has to make it clear to himself.
"His name is Hua Cheng."
San Lang remains silent. The heat pushing behind his skin burns along with the shame; but,
for the first time, it feels good. It feels good to say it. It feels good to have someone know.
He's told so many people for so long that he didn't have a mate that finally saying it is...
Liberating.
"It's okay, Gege," says San Lang. His voice is totally filled with some kind of emotion that
Xie Lian can't quite put his finger on, but there are gentle hands on him, pushing his hair
away from his skin, a soft blizzard sliding down his burning neck. He half-opens his eyes to
find San Lang fanning him with a delicate red fan, too expensive and too elegant in his long
fingers. "Everything is okay."
His pup returns and the herbal tea slides down his throat. His mind doesn’t clear, instead he
feels even more surrounded by a thick sense of clouds and haze, but his body no longer
burns. The fresh air is welcome, and he lets himself be lulled by San Lang's soothing words,
which have not changed even when Xie Lian claimed to have a mate. There is nothing there
but affection, respect, care.
Xie Lian feels safe. He allows himself to close his eyes again and let the cool air blow away
the anxious heat that still lingers on his skin. At some point, even if he doesn't know how, he
falls asleep. When he wakes his pup is there, gently fanning him, but San Lang is not in his
nest. His head is a little clearer to ask for him, and Xie Meihua answers:
"He went to wash your robes and get clean robes for himself."
It takes him another embarrassed moment to notice that he is wearing clean robes, cooler and
without any scent of heat, nor any evidence of the dampness he had noticed spreading
between his legs. His face burns with shame and, when San Lang returns another moment of
cloudiness later, in which he dozes completely dragged out of his mind by the herbs, he
apologises too eagerly and with too many tears of shame.
"Gege doesn't have to apologise for anything," says San Lang. "I promised to take care of
Gege, and that's what I’ve been doing."
Night falls. The routine repeats itself. Soups, fruit, medicine, water, tea. Soups, fruits,
medicines, water, tea. The morning brings a cool rain, and the afternoon brings some
devotees. His pup goes to them to ask them to leave their offerings in an outside hut, and
explains the situation of the main caretaker of the temple. His pup returns full of unfamiliar
smells that make Xie Lian sob until he leaves, but when he returns, he smells only river and
his pup with cold fur curling up beside him.
Night falls, again. His pup helps him bathe at some point, but his skin doesn't feel any fresher
afterwards. At some point Xie Lian fears he has lost count of the days. His body receives
medicine, receives water, receives food; he is cared for, he is pampered so much that he cries,
and his dreams are heavy, dark silhouettes dressed in red and smiles that taste of blood. His
pup washes his hair and moistens his face the last days of the heat, brushes and braids his
hair, changes his robes.
He doesn't know how many days have passed but, finally, when he opens his eyes after two
more mornings, he doesn't feel like he is burning alive. His puppy is no longer there, curled
up beside him. Instead, Xie Lian finds himself using San Lang as a pillow, firmly clinging to
him, his cool skin a balm against the still slightly sweaty skin of his forehead.
"Is Gege feeling well?" asks San Lang's soft voice. From where Xie Lian is curled up he can
feel the vibration of his throat as he speaks: his voice sounds low, slightly sleepy, and Xie
Lian's face burns. He tries to pull away, but his muscles still feel weak.
San Lang helps him to move. He lays him on his back, brushes hair away from his face. His
fingers are soft, cool, and Xie Lian allows himself to slowly enjoy the gentle touch, his eyes
filling with tears.
"I'm sorry," he says quickly. He feels so ashamed, and humiliated. San Lang had only shown
himself to be kind, but now, a bunch of misty memories, emotions and sensations push him
around, stir his head and speed up his heart, and Xie Lian feels like he's going to collapse.
"Ah, San Lang, I'm so sorry, I..."
"Gege has nothing to apologise for," says San Lang softly. He's so soft, so sweet and gentle,
and Xie Lian just feels miserable. "Hot flashes are a totally normal thing, and it doesn't have
to be embarrassing. Gege has put up with it just fine."
Xie Lian's face still burns. San Lang catches the tears sliding down the sides of his face with
his fingers, so delicate and so pleasant that Xie Lian allows himself to be molded between his
hands, to settle against his touch.
"Yet San Lang shouldn't have to take care of me," Xie Lian complains. His eyes are closed,
but San Lang's fingers on his face pause, and he forces himself to open his eyes to try to see
San Lang's expression. His face is particularly blank.
"Didn't Gege want this San Lang to look after him?" he asks, however, and his tone is so
vulnerable that Xie Lian is quick to deny it.
"I wanted him to," he admits, even if the word sounds too low. He struggles to accept it, and
shame fills his face with reddish blotches, makes his ears burn. "But San Lang didn't have to
do it if he didn't want to."
"I wanted to," San Lang repeats, and his voice is so full of affection that Xie Lian feels his
heart racing. "If this one can do something, anything, to make Gege comfortable, safe, and
happy, this one will."
There is affection in his eyes, an affection that Xie Lian hasn't had in years. Suddenly, for the
first time, Xie Lian feels comfortable in his own skin, in his own body, wanting to settle
against San Lang as if he belongs there and... "Even if Gege already has a partner, this San
Lang is willing to accompany him whenever Gege wants him around."
"What?" hisses Xie Lian. His face burns, and he tries to backtrack through his memories
looking for a time when he might have told San Lang about a non-existent partner. His
instincts are confused, but logically, he knows he doesn't have a partner. "Oh, no, San Lang,
Gods, I'm sorry. That's not true! I probably wasn't coherent. What did I say?"
San Lang laughs a little. Even so, his laughter sounds a little distant.
"Gege said he had a mate," says San Lang. His voice is light, an octave softer than usual. "I
didn't catch his name, though. Gege sounded very convinced. This one's not sure it was a
delusion."
"San Lang," protests Xie Lian, grimacing. San Lang's eyes flash with amusement and Xie
Lian groans, "You're making fun of me."
"I could never," says San Lang, extending his smile now in true mockery. Xie Lian notices
that his countenance is much more relaxed, his eyes brighter. The idea of Xie Lian having a
partner disturbed him? That was... unexpected. "So, Gege really doesn't have a mate?"
"No," says Xie Lian. Saying it feels... wrong. Even if he consciously knows that he has no
companion, that the closest thing to one had vanished from his life the very moment he
appeared, Xie Lian feels dejected to accept it. It is like accepting his loneliness. "I was
probably delirious from the fever. I don't remember half the things I..."
He is suddenly silent, observing San Lang in his nest. Suddenly he realises the obvious fact
that San Lang is in his nest. And he is fully dressed, but he is almost certain that these are not
the same clothes he wore the previous days. The shirt is tightly fitted to his body, the outer
red tunic has black edges and collar detailing, and, on one side of the collar exposed by the
tunic that makes it visible, there is a small reddened mark.
Xie Lian's face burns.
"My God," he moans. He quickly covers his face, which is again burning with shame. "San
Lang, San Lang" he moans, so quickly that it feels like he's about to cry. His hormones are
still a mess and it's easy to notice. "What happened, you, we...?"
"No, no," San Lang is quickly relieving him. There is urgency in his voice, and he quickly
pulls Xie Lian's hands away so that he can look into his eyes. His hands are cold against his
wrists; despite this, the touch burns. Xie Lian is humiliated, but he holds his gaze: there is
only genuine honesty in his deep eyes. "This San Lang would never do anything that Gege
would not have consented to in his full coherency."
Xie Lian lets the air out with a relieved exhalation. His face still burns with shame, but he
nods.
His eyes linger on the small mark visible on San Lang's neck. His ears burn with shame.
"But..." he says, and San Lang releases one of his wrists to rest his hand on his neck. Xie
Lian's wrist suddenly feels small and empty without San Lang's hand on it, but San Lang just
touches the section, his face suddenly grimacing.
"Ah, Gege," he says after a moment, "it's just a normal irritation. Gege was quite attracted to
my scent, so he pressed quite hard on my glands. They're sensitive."
"Sorry, San Lang, sorry!" Xie Lian hastens to say, even if San Lang is only laughing. His
laughter is soft, light, a caress to his heart.
San Lang's hand returns to Xie Lian. He brushes aside a lock of hair and tucks it behind his
ear, and, before he can remove it, Xie Lian holds it against his face, leaving it there, cool and
delicate, against his cheek. It’s a balm not only to his hot skin, but to his heart. He can feel his
heartbeat pushing rapidly against his ribs, humming in his neck and in his ears.
When Xie Lian looks up, he can only be immersed in San Lang's eyes. His eyes, intense and
bright, are filled with so much affection that suddenly, Xie Lian can't help but feel loved. That
is the feeling that makes his heart race even faster, his face flush with something other than
humiliation.
San Lang looks at him as if he worships him. As if Xie Lian is important, as if Xie Lian
deserves patience, care, dedication, love. As if he could spend a lifetime looking at him.
When was the last time that he felt so loved?
San Lang had shown respect for him. During the lowest moment, during his humiliating heat
full of hormonal instincts, San Lang had just been there taking care of him without expecting
to receive anything in return, without even taking him as a burden, without being affected by
it. Xie Lian barely remembers, but what he remembers is full of sweetness; caring and
respectful hands, soothing caresses, cool water, and food straight into his mouth.
With all his instincts satiated, his head completely clear, Xie Lian only exhales a brief breath
that catches in his teeth in a gasp. San Lang watches him as if watching him is the only thing
he desires and, for that instant, Xie Lian can give in to his heart holding that fantasy there.
Xie Lian allows himself to give in.
"Gege?" says San Lang, sweet, worried by his hesitant silence, but looking at his lips only
makes Xie Lian's heart race even faster. They're parted in an almost innocent way, and Xie
Lian doesn't understand why at that moment all he wants to do is cross the space between
them and kiss him.
And, feeling cared for, loved, protected and safe, he finds no logical reason not to. He pushes
forward without thinking, only feeling.
Xie Lian can feel his heart racing, the ringing in his ears, and the way San Lang's hand on his
wrist trembles but he never pushes it away, even holding it with more devoted care when Xie
Lian caresses his lips with a kiss.
Chapter End Notes
Hua Cheng: Gege doesn't have a mate, I have a non-platonic chance with Gege!
Xie Lian: I actually have a mate
Hua Chen: ...
Xie Lian: his name is Hua Cheng
Hua Cheng: *restarting ghost king noises*
I took every measure possible to leave the omega genitalia very vague because *hand
wave* this is not the point here, you can imagine it any way you like
THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING DEAR, I HOPE YOU ENJOYED THE
CHAPTER!!!
IF NOT SEE YOU ON TWITTER WHERE I'M LITERALLY WITH A VOTE FOR
THE NAMES OF THE NEXT HUALIAN CHILDS, SEE YOU IN THE NEXT
CHAPTER I LOVE YOUUUW
Little truths, little lies
Chapter Summary
After Xie Lian's heat, Xie Meihua and San Lang have a conversation.
Chapter Notes
I'm back! Things have happened, haha- But my semester is over, and passed! I went
through and survived a pretty major depressive moment, so here I am with a new
chapter (and writing another fanfic behind the scenes because, yeah, I have no self-
control, more kids for Hualian)
Thanks so much to Red, my darling, for beta-reading this chapter, without them help it
would be nothing!
AND TOO MANY THANKS TO ALL OF YOU FOR READING! I'm always grateful,
but really, you have no idea how much your support means to me. You have saved my
life. Literally. THANK YOU, I hope you enjoy this chapter! <3
The morning that six days have passed since his father's heat had fully set in, Xie Meihua
slips away to get some air and clear his head a little. It is not the first time he has had to care
for his father, feed him, or keep him safe inside a nest; however, it is the first time he has
done so with healthy, hearty food, medicines, herbal teas that made his fever barely strong
and not so delirious, and, of course, the company of San Lang.
San Lang had shown himself to be... pleasant. At no time had he given in to any primitive
instincts, not even showing himself to be territorial. Punctual with his own herbal medicines,
always kind, always gentle, always affectionate. When Xie Meihua would eventually fall
asleep from exhaustion, upon waking, San Lang would carefully fan his father, always
looking at him with the same eyes filled with so many emotions that, inevitably, Xie Meihua
felt like an intruder.
His head is in turmoil, buzzing with a chaos of confused emotions and feelings. San Lang
does seem like someone with whom his father can be safe, protected and cared for, but is he
really willing to ignore the alarms?
San Lang is not human. He doesn't need to be a Taoist expert or even a God to know that,
although perhaps being a God and being much more sensitive to that kind of energy
circumstance can help a lot. There is something there, something that vibrates in a different
way, as if the skin that envelops it is too perfect a disguise to be real. When Xie Meihua
concentrates, it is almost obvious that he can feel the enormous amount of yin energy inside
him as much as he can inside himself. An Alpha with so much yin energy could only be a
creature outside the mortal realm, a demon, or a ghost.
Not that Xie Meihua had a problem with it, to be honest. Ghosts had proven to be...
exceptional. Powerful, ambitious, but above all, capable of achieving their goals even if they
had questionable ways of doing so. Xuan Ji, even in her madness, had demonstrated an
inordinate power driven through a mad obsession. The Green Ghost and his distaste for
hanging mortals upside down had shown an outbreak of madness, but at the same time, of
biting wit; what else would annoy the Gods and terrify mortals more? To sully the hands of
the pure and divine Gods by picking off mortal by mortal seemed a rather playful act that, in
other circumstances, Xie Meihua would enjoy for its contempt for the Heavens alone.
And his father. Hua Cheng, of course, had he actually opened the heavens causing a rain of
blood, or did his power wreak so much damage on the creatures he killed that they erupted in
the actual rain of blood? If he had such a power as causing a rain of blood, could Hua Cheng
control the weather? Could he make clouds of blood instead of water? Did he have any
infiltrators among the Rain God's people who would carry clouds of blood for when he
needed them?
All ghosts capable of making themselves look like mortal beings had, in one way or another,
demonstrated more than exceptional power. A "Wrath" rank, he suddenly remembered. And,
if it were higher, "Devastation."
If San Lang was such a powerful ghost, why did he suddenly enjoy playing house? It didn't
seem like something a typical ghost would do. But, after all, San Lang hadn't proven himself
to be a typical ghost. Not even a typical person.
All ghosts seemed to have at least one motivation that compelled them to be, to act, but what
if San Lang's motivation was to find a home? Could he even judge that? All he could do was
understand. If he had been born in any other body, in any other life, he would also have liked
to return to Xie Lian; not only was he his father, but he was a gentle and wonderful person
who deserved the world at his feet.
Xie Meihua sighs, rather frustrated. He shuffles his feet through the dry leaves around him,
the crunch of the small tree leaves as they crumble under his feet almost soothing. He
becomes so lost in the sound that he is barely able to notice San Lang's footsteps behind him
until he actually touches his shoulder.
"Good morning," he says, catching his attention. Xie Meihua startles, but his surprise
subsides. San Lang is wearing the robes he went to change into for a moment; for someone
who had proven to have no home or place to go there, he must either have a very quick way
of transporting himself, or he must have lied. His robes are still impeccably expensive. "Has
Didi been having nightmares?"
San Lang holds out a cup. It's smoky, but it's different from tea. It smells fruity and somewhat
spicy, thick, and its texture is more like burnt radish soup than a cup of tea. Xie Meihua slides
it around the edges of the cup, watching as the ceramic is painted dark purple around the
edges, before looking up.
"Why do you ask?" his question perhaps comes out a little rude, but his father is not there to
scold him anyway. San Lang doesn't seem to mind.
"Didi has woken up startled and disoriented several times," he explains calmly. San Lang
looks almost as unrested as he does against the dawn light; his hair is a mess, and several
strands float in the breeze. The breeze brings the scent of changing weather, the scent of rain
coming soon. "I took the liberty of asking an acquaintance for this concoction. It drives away
bad dreams, but I'm afraid I don't know how long it lasts. Several days to a week, probably.
However, when Didi has nightmares again, you can tell this San Lang. I will quickly get
more."
The brew in his cup looks as menacing as a soup prepared by his father. Xie Meihua takes a
whiff before taking a sip. To his surprise it doesn't taste as unpleasant as it looks; it's almost
like overripe fruit, sickly sweet against his palate, but hearty. Just one sip and he feels more
revitalised.
He takes two more gulps before putting the cup down.
"Ah, thank you, San Lang," he remembers to thank him. His mouth tastes too sweet, and he's
pretty sure his lips are probably a little purple. He's not going to complain about it, though,
he's tried far worse medicine. "It wasn't necessary. But I appreciate it."
"Didi is a young man growing up," says San Lang with almost tenderness. There is no
mockery in his eyes, even if the smile on his face might seem a little playful. "He needs to
sleep properly. Nightmares are annoying."
"They are," Xie Meihua confirms, after a sigh. He takes the last few sips from his cup, the
bottom of the cup also painted, and sighs. He plops down on the log where they have sat
several times before, his feet still buried against the parched leaves. "I never used to have
nightmares."
That is true. Xie Meihua doesn’t consider himself to be someone who has creative dreaming;
his dreams are disasters, sometimes quite full of fantasy or nonsensical nonsense, but even in
those circumstances, he had always woken up forgetting them quickly. The nightmares,
however...
It was hard to forget them. He can feel them for the rest of the day on his skin, against his
arms, on his neck, he can feel himself choking with air that won't come in, and he can feel
himself bleeding stars and tears under a lot of expectant gazes.
Save us. Save us. Save us.
And Xie Meihua breaks into stars until he evaporates himself in brilliance to save them.
There are no faces he recognises, only pleas, supplications, prayers. Save us. Save us. Save
us.
Even the memories were better than those kinds of horrible dreams. The nightmares where
his memories were mixed with unrealities where pain was the only thing that could exist,
however, were worse. There was just enough of a dose of reality that he was still afraid after
opening his eyes.
"Would Didi like to talk about it?" asks San Lang softly, sitting down next to him. He doesn't
bring a cup of his own, and Xie Meihua notices that there is no longer a bandage on his left
arm. But, this time, the robe seems to cling much tighter to his skin, protecting his arm from
prying eyes. For the first time, he thinks, there must be a big scar there. No young master
would be proud to have a scar, least of all on his arm, so visible.
"I'm not sure," he says. He hesitates. He doesn't want to share that with his father because he
knows it will scare him. Xie Meihua hasn't wanted to be a God, doesn't want the
responsibility and doesn't want what that means, but his father had shown himself to be proud
by assuming that Xie Meihua's reticence towards divinity was pure resentment towards the
Heavens. Xie Lian had shown himself to support it, to worship it. Even if he knew divinity
was not the path he would choose, he had supported it as long as it was there.
However, if he were to show that he is terrified of it... Xie Meihua is absolutely certain that,
if that were the case, his father himself would ascend to the heavens just to kick some ass and
hurl a few insults. He wants to convince himself that this is the only reason he hasn't said
anything, but he has another reason: he doesn't want to be afraid.
Being afraid makes him weak. Even if it doesn't make him weak to his father and his warm
understanding, being afraid makes him weak to... anyone. To himself. And he doesn't want to
be afraid. He doesn't.
"It's okay not to be sure," says San Lang, again interrupting his train of thought. This time,
however, Xie Meihua is grateful. "If Didi wants to talk about it, sometime, this San Lang is
willing to listen."
"Thank you," he says, from the heart this time. He knows he'll always have his father's ear
and his shoulder to cry on. It's always been the two of them against the world, and he's
always trusted him with everything, but for some reason, having San Lang is... soothing. He's
different from Xie Lian; he doesn't feel he has to behave, or act in a way to receive his
approval, even if deep down, for some unknown reason, he wants his approval almost as
much as he wants his father's.
He sighs deeply, clutching the mug in his hands before asking, "Does San Lang have
nightmares?"
San Lang hesitates. Xie Meihua can see him tense up for a moment.
"Sometimes," he says, after a moment. His voice is as soft as the cooing of the trees. "This
San Lang usually has some nightmares. It's not bad to have them. And it's not bad to be
forewarned for when you do."
He points to the cup with his hands; Xie Meihua smiles a little, suddenly realising that
perhaps San Lang only had the concoction with him for personal use and, despite this,
decided to give it to him. His heart feels warm for a moment. Then he sighs deeply before
saying, "It must be horrible to live with nightmares for so long. Ghosts have a lot of
nightmare-worthy things in their lives, don't they?"
San Lang tenses like a bowstring at his side. Xie Meihua is looking at him, so it's something
impossible to avoid seeing. Every muscle in his body seems tense, ready to jump, but Xie
Meihua just drags his finger around the rim of the cup, sighing again.
San Lang speaks after a tense moment: "Didi is very clever," he compliments him. Xie
Meihua rolls his eyes.
"San Lang's is ridiculously obvious," he complains. Once he has confirmation, it is

heartbreakingly obvious. The first piece of hard evidence that San Lang is a ghost is the fact
that he can eat his father's food without dying in the attempt. How could someone who is
already dead die?
San Lang remains still at his side, as if to move would mean that something might go wrong.
That Xie Meihua would attack him, try to exorcise him or something. The tension slowly
leaves his shoulders as Xie Meihua does nothing but fiddle with the cup, just for the sake of
doing something with his hands.
"What was it that gave this one away?" asks San Lang, after a moment. His voice isn't as
strained at that moment, but it doesn't have the same tone of relaxed mockery either. He still
seems to be pausing against a wall of fear of rejection, and that's something that
unexpectedly, Xie Meihua recognises all too well: "This one doesn't remember Didi checking
San Lang out too thoroughly on details that might have ratted him out."
"Your energy," replies Xie Meihua after a moment. It is one of the first things he noticed
many days ago, on the way with the ox cart. "You have natural yin energy in you, and you
can fight with it. You can use it. Being a man and an alpha, you shouldn't be able to. If you
were a cultivator, the most natural energy to you would be yan energy."
"Didi has it too," San Lang points out with a small smile, "and he's not a ghost."
Xie Meihua grimaces.
"Maybe I am," he scoffs cheekily. Technically he is, even if he's half ghost, there's a lot of
that spiritual energy in him. San Lang's expression darkens for a second, just a moment, as if
the idea of Xie Meihua having died to become a ghost is a horrible thing, before his eyebrow
raises in genuine curiosity. "Despite everything, there are many things San Lang doesn't
know about me."
"That's true," and then, San Lang's smile spreads across his face, pure wild white teeth as he
says, "After all, this San Lang said he had to learn a lot about one of his Gods."
Xie Meihua is completely red so soon that he doesn't even realise it until he feels his face
burning, and it's definitely not from the sun. It's not high enough or hot enough to burn yet to
heat his skin like that.
"Ah," is all Xie Meihua says. He looks away from San Lang's face for a moment before
sighing tragically. "How long have you known that?"
"Maybe the same amount of time that Didi knew about me," replies San Lang. He seems to
be having a lot of fun having changed the angle of the situation, but it's not something Xie
Meihua lets pass.
"Still," he returns to the subject. San Lang doesn't let his smile slip, only pulling it down a
little at the corners. He still looks like a satisfied fox. "It doesn't bother me that you're a ghost.
You've taken good care of my father... and me. You've been a good person to live with.
You've been kind, gentle and warm. You could be a tree elf and I wouldn't care."
San Lang's smile falters. Suddenly, as if surprised by the very truth of his words, Xie Meihua
realises that apart from the silly "A-Die" that had escaped him days before, this is the first
time he has accepted that Xie Lian is his father in front of San Lang. His face burns with the
shame of his own mistake, but he's not going to correct it as they're laying their truths on the
table, and San Lang's expression composes itself enough before he asks:
"Did Didi really think I took good care of Gege?"
It's a small-sounding question, in a voice far more fragile than Xie Meihua would have
expected. He smiles.
"Better than I ever could," is his honest answer, again. He swirls his feet against the leaves,
and San Lang mimics him, crushing the leaves with his feet until the crunching dies down
when the leaves are shredded enough under his footsteps to make any sound. "I thank you so
much."
"Didi has nothing to be thankful for-"
But Xie Meihua interrupts him.
"I thank you," he says, crisply. "You've brought food, blankets, you've given him a safe and
comfortable nest, and medicine, herbs and tea. You have given him company, relief, laughter.
You have given him someone to take refuge in, someone to trust, someone to..." Xie Meihua
pauses, noticing the puzzled expression on San Lang's face. His own words are too
embarrassing, but he forces himself to tell him: "My A-Die... my father has been too lonely.
Even with me, there's a void that's there when he thinks I'm not looking. But, with you, that
void doesn't exist. You complete him. You make him happy. Thank you, San Lang."
San Lang does not respond for a long moment. He seems lost in his own thoughts, and Xie
Meihua takes advantage of this to watch the sunrise. The sun climbs a little more lazily, and
the clouds are already painted in light, soft colours. It will be a beautiful day until the rain
falls.
"All I wish for is Gege's happiness," says San Lang after hesitating. His voice sounds honest.
"It's what I've always wished for."
"Is it the Flower Crowned Martial God?" asks Xie Meihua, quickly. He feels proud of himself
for catching San Lang off guard again, so he continues: "The other God you worship. It
would make sense, actually. You didn't ask who he was when I mentioned him that morning a
week ago, and in this day and age, not many people know he exists. Everyone who knows
him, knows him as a God of Misfortune."
"His Highness is no God of Misfortune," growls San Lang, annoyed, and Xie Meihua takes
that as an answer. He nods.
"Mortals are idiots," he agrees. San Lang gives him a much more mocking and real little
smile, as if reminding him that not untilrecently, he too was a mortal. "If A-Die wanted to, he
could tear them apart for soiling his name like that. But he's very humble and kind. He's just
going to put his head down and apologise for something that's not his fault."
"He would never retaliate on his own," says San Lang. Xie Meihua nods.
"I know," he sighs, annoyed. He drops his hands against the leaves, now, taking dirt and
shredded leaves between his fingers. He smashes them between his fingers, squeezing out the
last crunching sounds. "Then I will do it for him. I will clear his name with my temples and
anyone who dares to say anything against him will receive a disgrace compared to a heavenly
calamity."
"Sounds like a cause I am willing to pursue," says San Lang, smooth as a feather, and sharp
as a blade. "So, does Your Midnight Highness give me permission to continue with your
statue?"
Xie Meihua groans in frustration. The sound is lost against San Lang's laughter, much softer
and fresher than before. It is pleasant, sweet and warm, and for just a moment, Xie Meihua
wonders what his own father's laughter would be like. Would he unconsciously seek his
approval as he immediately sought San Lang's approval? Would he mock him with that
comfortable familiarity, or even look at him as an equal?
Would he feel as comfortable next to Hua Cheng as he did next to San Lang?
Xie Meihua doesn't want to think about it. But the questions haven't left his head and, with a
constant comparison at his side, Xie Meihua can't help but think. He has never had any father
figure in his life other than Xie Lian and, even so, his father had always occupied that most
maternal place in their lives. He was gentle, warm, kind, there was always a home in his
arms, and a battle to exhaust himself before the night falls.
With his father, Xie Meihua had never longed for another father figure. But, it seems, he had
not been telling himself the truth. Surrounded by so many truths and resolutions, Xie Meihua
must come to terms with what he has been avoiding finding in his own heart for so many
years: he really wants and needs to know his father. He really wants and needs his approval,
his companionship, and his support.
It's not something he wants to tell Xie Lian, it's not something he wants to expose to the only
father he's ever had in his whole life to in order to avoid hurting him, but once the truth is
there in front of his eyes he can't help but come face to face with it.
The emptiness on one side of his heart hurts. However, when he looks at San Lang's almost
sweet expression at his frustration, extremely full of sordid humour against him, that
emptiness shudders.
And, perhaps, it hurts a little less.
Chapter End Notes
Xie Meihua: I could be a ghost too and you wouldn't know it

San Lang: If someone dared to lay a finger on you aggressively seeking to kill you, I'm
sure his soul doesn't even exist now because of the deep pain it would cause Gege, but
go ahead
Also:
Xie Meihua: You definitely took good care of my father, thank you
San Lang: *imposter syndrome unblocked* Really-really? You really think I'm worthy
of Gege?
THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING CARING, I HOPE YOU LIKE THE
CHAPTER A LOT, I adored writing it, don't you also adore how the father-son bond
between San Lang and baby Meihua is slowly developing? It's too sweet, obviously
there will be drama later on to counteract the toothache
I'm on Twitter! I post threadfics, wips, some drawings sometimes, and a lot of previews
of this (or other) fics ;)
See you in the next chapter sweetie, thank you so much!

Red envelopes
Chapter Summary
Seeking to learn about his duties as God, Xie Meihua shares an afternoon with Feng Xin
and Mu Qing.
Chapter Notes
HELLO, I HOPE YOU HAVE NOT MISSED ME TOO MUCH THIS TIME I've been a
good boy and have been writing a lot of this fic for you guys, however I'll only be back
home for the week of the 8th (I'm at Roommie's house for the holidays because you
know, I have no family and she was really sorry to leave me alone during the holidays,
so I don't have my main files here either), so.... Hopefully I'll be able to give you more
chapters after those dates!
As always, THANK YOU VERY MUCH for every comment, every kudo, every person
who adds me to their bookmarks, you have no idea how happy you make me.
And all the thanks in the universe to Red for beta reading this chapter! Terrifies me to
think how many mistakes it had before your corrections, someday I'll do a massive
chapter edit!
I hope you enjoy the chapter!
When his father wakes up an hour later, fully in his right mind and without the thick smell of
heat pheromones, Xie Meihua leaves him some privacy next to San Lang. After his
conversation with him, the rain is much closer, so he tells himself that he has to seize the day
and answer prayers.
He walks downstream, losing himself in the trees until he finds a fairly quiet place to
meditate. He crosses his legs and focuses, trying to reach out to the flashes of yin energy that
have been growing around the devotion lately, but...
He cannot.
There is a strange feeling in his mind. That is something he can feel as a certainty, as if he
knows that there are sentences accumulating from several days there that he ignored as
background noise but, at the same time, he is sure he doesn't know how to organise that. He
can't even access them.
So he does what his father taught him to do whenever something doesn't work out: ask
someone competent for help.
"Ling Wen, Ling Wen, the all-knowing!"
Ling Wen responds a moment later. Her voice sounds quite astonished.
"Your Highness, how good it is to hear from you," she says, as if pretending that she is not
completely surprised by his action. After all, Xie Meihua has sworn his contempt for the
Heavens and the Divine. He hasn't changed his mind, but desperate circumstances call for
desperate measures. "Has something happened?"
"Everything is calm, everything is fine," replies Xie Meihua with a smile. He doesn't know if
Ling Wen can sense him smiling in his voice, but she probably does, because he can feel her
snort. "I actually wanted to ask for some guidance?"
"Guidance?" asks Ling Wen a second later. "What does Your Highness need guidance on?"
"Ah," he finds it embarrassing to have to say. After all, he is almost absolutely certain that
Gods must have that kind of guidance before ascending, but he says it, "I don't really know
how to be a God. So, Your Honour Ling Wen doesn't have a scroll that explains the basic
terms, how to access residual spiritual energy from prayers, or how to be able to hear lost
prayers? I don't know how to give blessings either! Or do anything at all, ah..."
His own voice sounds too embarrassed. The next sigh is so close to his ear that Xie Meihua
opens one eye from his false meditation just to make sure Ling Wen is not breathing in his
ear.
"There isn't some kind of orientation to the newly ascended Gods," she explains sparingly.
Her voice is almost dull this time. "Usually, the prayers of the Gods are transcribed by hand
by their Middle Court officials, who have access to their energy from the devotion of their
Temples. In this way, the great Gods have at their disposal prayers and their offerings so that
they know what to bestow on mortals, and in what way."
"That makes sense," he bites the inside of his cheek, somewhat annoyed. Of course that
would only take into account big Gods with many worshippers, merit and power, but what
about little Gods like him? Even someone else must have ascended without a single merit or
Temple, or was he the only one? The thought disturbed him. "But I don't have Middle Court
officers, and I'm definitely not going to put my father to work for me with that excuse. Is
there any way I can organise them myself?"
"Your Highness has to access his divine spiritual core," Ling Wen explains. Xie Meihua
gestures as he tries to concentrate on himself, searching for the core without success. All of
his energy seems to be exactly the same in him, welling up from everywhere and nowhere at
the same time. "But, I am afraid, there is no system of guidance for beginners. Every
ascended God in the last millennia had his own priests and his own ascension-targeted
cultivation, so they were already prepared to take on that responsibility beforehand. Under
the circumstances, does Your Highness think it is necessary to create a beginner-oriented
system?"
Xie Meihua makes a much more unpleasant grimace. He is absolutely certain that Ling Wen
is teasing him, and contrary to what San Lang's teasing seems to embarrass him in an
amusing way, this kind of teasing is humiliating.
"It's not necessary," he complains. He doesn't want to admit how much the situation bothers
him, but it does bother him. It bothers him to feel useless and unable to do anything in a
circumstance he didn't even want to find himself in. If he was like this, it was because of the
Heavens, not him, and they should be in charge! It's not fair, but the truth is that for Xie
Meihua, things have not been fair lately. "It's true that I'm ignorant and never planned to
ascend, so it's my responsibility. The Heavens shouldn't expect or allow more untrained gods
like me to ascend."
"Your Highness is not..." says Ling Wen, but Xie Meihua is already getting rid of the spiritual
communication with a sigh. Then, with another exhausted sigh, he turns to the public
spiritual communication array. They seem to be quite elated about some merit giveaway, but
Xie Meihua ignores them.
With one last brave breath, he asks: "General Xuan Zhen? General Nan Yang?"
The spiritual communication array falls silent as abruptly as he speaks. Xie Meihua hisses an
insult.
"Oh, shit, you dumbass fools again with the silence when I show up. Can they be less
obvious?" he complains into the communication array, in a totally annoyed tone of voice. "I
know you don't like me. I don't like you Stupid Gods either. I don't like the Heavens!" he
complains. He's pouring out his frustration and he lets it out, obnoxious. "However, I am still
a God. Against my will, and against your will, but I am a God like all of you. Do me a favour
and stop being ridiculous, gossipy old women every time I show up here."
He lets his words die. There are some vague murmurs afterwards. Xie Meihua can recognise
vague, mocking words; there is something that sounds like "the boy has guts" and others that
are like "dare to laugh at his father now, he would behead us" and Xie Meihua feels quite in
agreement with both directions of statements.
A moment later, Mu Qing's voice is present: "Your Highness has courage for scolding old
millenary Gods".
"I wasn't scolding you, but if you think you're old, it's not my problem," Xie Meihua scoffs.
He hears laughter in some corners of the spiritual communication array and can imagine Mu
Qing rolling his eyes. It is so much his own thing that the image flashes in his mind as if he is
seeing it. "Is General Nan Yang here too?"
"And why would I know that?" complains Mu Qing. Despite this, Xie Meihua hears Feng
Xin's reply a moment later:
"Does Your Highness want to chat or just show the Heavens that you've had a bad day?"
"Funny," Xie Meihua complains sarcastically. "I would like your help, if possible. Either
from your subordinates, or from yourselves if you have some free time to waste on me. It's a
personal matter."
A personal matter Ling Wen was aware of, but they did not need to know that at the moment.
Ling Wen says nothing either, though he can feel her tense silence in the spiritual
communication array.
"Of course, Your Highness," says Feng Xin. Mu Qing does not respond verbally, but an
abrupt, oppressive sensation of yan energy bursts to his left as the God descends. Xie Meihua
does not need to open his eyes to know that it is Mu Qing and, another instant later, Feng Xin
descends with another burst of yan energy that gives him goosebumps.
"Thank you very much," he says in the array, even if he could say it verbally. "You can go
back to your gossip now. And if my father or I are involved in it, I'll be very upset. Have I
heard that burning temples is an effective way to extinguish gossiping gods?"
He lets the threat hang in the air, not even giving them time to react, before disconnecting
from the spiritual communication array and allowing the seething cauldron of gossip and
chaos to erupt. The sound of silence against his ears is soothing for a moment when he
remembers that Mu Qing and Feng Xin are there with him, so he opens his eyes.
And he is surprised.
Contrary to his disguises, Mu Qing is slightly taller than his Fu Yao form, though his facial
features are just as delicate. He wears refined clothes and his dark hair falls in a long, lustrous
curtain from the top of his head. His clothes are elegant, dark and golden, and contrast
elegantly against his pale skin and refined bearing.
Feng Xin still has slightly coarser, though beautiful facial features. His skin is more tanned,
his gaze sterner, and his hair lighter. He looks nothing like the statue in the temple where they
spent the night, and Xie Meihua is tempted to ask if he would let him carve a new statue to
match, just to return the favour he is about to ask of them.
He probably will, at some point. As payment, and as a thank-you.
"Your Highness," says Feng Xin first. "Did you request our help because of something
special or because of...?"
"Ah, I was looking for pleasant company, then, I remembered that their alter egos Fu Yao and
Nan Feng are fun when they're not beating each other up" Xie Meihua quickly disposes of the
lie before it becomes uncomfortable for either of them. Neither of them look surprised or
embarrassed by the deception, so Xie Meihua sighs. "I'm sorry for the abrupt call. It's just that
there's a situation and... I thought you two could help me."
Feng Xin and Mu Qing exchange a glance. It is curious, and suddenly they seem to remind
themselves that they should hate each other, because they dodge each other's eyes cruelly.
"Whatever Your Highness requires, if we can be of service, we will be of service," says Mu

Qing, even if his grimace seems anything but helpful.
Xie Meihua, in spite of everything, smiles.
"Can you help show me how to answer prayers?" he asks. He allows them a moment to grasp
the question before opening his mouth and dropping the myriad of doubts he has been
having, one after the other: "Prayers are supposed to be a request; the devotion of mortals
after fulfilled prayers is transformed into the spiritual energy of the Gods. I understand that,
but how exactly does it work, how do I get to hear the prayers that I couldn't attend to at the
exact time, do I always have to hear them, or can I let them be stored and hear them at some
specific time, if so, how do I do it? And how do I give blessings, do I have to make talismans
or something? Apparently, they're worshipping me as a Protector God, and I'm supposed to
protect, but how do I do that? Do I have to send them spiritual energy that gives them good
luck, or keeps them safe? How do I do that? How do I know who asked for what prayer?
Because sometimes, it's easy, but other times..."
"Your Highness" Feng Xin interrupts him. His face looks as overwhelmed as he surely is;
there is an impatient vein quite visible on his forehead. "Perhaps these are things that your
father can answer? Why come to us?"
"If you don't want to help, just leave," growls Mu Qing. Feng Xin turns to him, cruel to his
full height, and lets out a growl.
"Look who's talking about leaving."
"Don't you dare to-...!"
"Don't you dare, you've got some nerve, you're supposed to..."
"If you don't shut up I'm going to throw you off a cliff myself," growls Xie Meihua. They
both stare at him perplexed at his abrupt moodiness, now if the fighting has stopped. His tone
has sounded too sullen and tired, so Xie Meihua clears his throat before saying, more politely
this time, "If you happened to forget, my father has cursed shackles. Even if he knew how to
explain it to me, he couldn't show me. And I'm a practical apprentice before I'm visual, so if
it's not a problem for you...?"
And so it is that the three of them end up sitting in lotus position in a small makeshift circle.
Mu Qing holds his wrist and, although the intrusion of his yin energy mixed with the yan
energy typical of the deity feels annoying when analysing the very flow of his energy, it is not
so painful because it is not going inside him, but guiding his own yin energy along the path.
"Does Your Highness know about the divine spiritual core?" asks Feng Xin, in turn. He draws
a blueprint on the grass in the centre. It looks like a spell full of angles and lines, but Xie
Meihua doesn't know too much about it to think about it too much.
"I heard it mentioned," he says, although he is sure that Ling Wen's perfunctory mention of it
meant nothing.
"Different cultivation paths create different divine spiritual cores," Mu Qing explains, "His
Highness the Crown Prince's path and mine require abstinence..." he interrupts himself for a
moment, looking at him, and corrects himself: "They required abstinence. That has moulded
them in a way more sensitive to outside energies and anything that might break their
cultivation, and therefore break down their core of divine energy. Whether it's a bit of wine,
or..."
"Other cores are created in harsher ways through martial cultivation, or more savage through
blood cultivation. They also have their own weaknesses. Some are fickle to weather, to
hatred, or some of them, to laziness," explains Feng Xin. The spell is finally finished and
bursts into iridescent colours in the centre of the circle: it seems to be a kind of image
floating in the air, but when Feng Xin guides Xie Meihua's hand inside, suddenly his whole
body glows with that same rainbow sparkle. If they were in pitch darkness it might be much
easier to see, but even in the late morning sun, the flashes under his skin are mystical. "Cores
are easy to reach once you visualise their origin, and..."
There is a moment of silence as Feng Xin looks down at his chest. Xie Meihua looks down at
himself, hoping to see a small point of light where he assumes his core should be, but there's
nothing there either. Or nothing stable, at least. Energy bursts from every corner of his body,
but it seems to have no fixed point of location.
"You did the spell wrong," Mu Qing scolds him, "If you don't even know how to do that
right, what are you trying so hard for?"
"Let him go, you're probably doing something wrong yourself. As usual." complains Feng
Xin. Mu Qing looks ready to strike him now, but when his fist pierces the air, it pierces the
path inside the spell and everything on his body glows. The pale gold that pierces Mu Qing's
visible skin is a glint, but what catches Xie Meihua's attention most is the huge golden heart
that seems to flash in the centre of his chest. It is a circle that rocks, shakes and spins in
constant motion, surrounded by golden lines that seem to constantly feed it.
"It seems that the spell is well done," he thinks to say at the sight before his eyes. Mu Qing
looks at himself, astonished, and removes his hand from the spell as if it burns.
"Your core is not defined, Your Highness," says Feng Xin a moment later; despite this, his
voice sounds confused. Xie Meihua knows absolutely nothing about cores or energies, but it
doesn't sound like a good thing. He's supposed to be a God. How did he even manage to
ascend to the Heavens without a defined divine spiritual core? It doesn't make sense. His
ascension makes less and less sense. "How long ago did you start working on your
cultivation?"
"Four years?" he says, hesitating a little. He is almost certain that the first year of practice
without wanting to be taught in earnest does not count. Feng Xin seems astonished by this
fact.
"With that time of training in cultivation, the core should be perfectly formed," says Feng
Xin. His brow is furrowing; a wrinkle sinks into the centre of his forehead. Xie Meihua can
barely read his expression, but there is much more calculating seriousness than anger.
"However, I'm not a fan of meditating," he decides to clarify. It had been something his father
had reprimanded him for on occasion: if he wanted a cultivation path by which to gain more
spiritual energy, he needed to take it seriously. Xie Meihua was fine with meditating once a
week, maybe a little more than an hour, at most. "I've probably neglected it, not that I've
needed much spiritual energy in the past. I’ve lived a completely reasonablelife without
inordinate violence."
"That can happen," says Mu Qing. His expression is rather rude against Feng Xin, but
becomes a little kinder when he lands on Xie Meihua. There is a hint of worry in his eyes that
fades as soon as Xie Meihua sees him; perhaps he has imagined it. "What is Your Highness's
cultivation path?"
Xie Meihua notices that it's suddenly a bit embarrassing to say it. Not because it's telling
other people -he's been teased and laughed at the times he's said it before, nothing he couldn't
shut up with a grunt. But because, in particular, it's Feng Xin and Mu Qing. It feels strangely
like exposing himself.
"Ah, eh," scratches his neck somewhat uncomfortably. "Abstinence. No alcohol, no carnal
acts, no gambling. Though maybe I've broken it too many times, I mean..." his ears burn, and
Mu Qing's gaze is sympathetic on him, until he says, "I like to gamble. I gamble too much to
win money, it's an easy way to do it, but I swear I won't get into trouble! It may seem like I
like fights because of my bad mood, but in reality I'm not usually involved in so many fights.
Besides, I always tend to win, so..."
"Gambling," says Mu Qing, raising both eyebrows. Even if he is already pale, his pallor looks
somewhat deadly now, as if gambling is something heartbreakingly horrible and forbidden.
Xie Meihua is pretty sure that some priests would believe that carnal acts that break vows of
abstinence are far more horrible than gambling. "Gambling how, gambling with dice?"
Xie Meihua nods.
"Or cards," he replies with a gesture; he is skilled at card games too, and has rarely lost. It has
almost always been to rather tricky people with aces up their sleeves and card games set up to
give them an advantage. Mu Qing's deathly pallor remains; the expression on Feng Xin alone
is serious to a worrying degree. "I'm not supposed to do it, but sometimes, it's easier. When
we didn't have any gold or the house needed urgent repairs, it was too easy a way to get what
we needed without exposing my father to something dangerous."
"A constantly interrupted cultivation system can cause an uneven core as well as a noticeable
loss of spiritual energy," reports Feng Xin after a moment of silence. His tone is patient, and
he doesn't seem judgmental. Despite this, there is a frown between his eyebrows that is more
than alarming; utterly serious and worried to an extent that Xie Meihua fails to comprehend.
Is it so bad to have an unstable or uneven core? Can it mean so much worry? Whatever it is,
he's not sure it's a good thing to tell his father. "Your Highness does not wish to be trained in
another path of cultivation? I can arrange a suitable master for you who..."
"No.” he replies, quickly and immediately. Mu Qing makes a gesture that is perhaps too
obvious.
"Your Highness," he says, pausing, and then simply, "Your father is not going to judge you
for choosing a different path of cultivation than his own."
Xie Meihua raises his eyebrows. That had hurt in a way that he can't explain.
"I'm not doing it for him," he lies, so quickly and so automatically that it feels natural to say
it. He has said it so many times that it could be his own truth. Every single decision he has
made in his life, every single act he has done, he has done for him and for his father's well-
being. From his path of cultivation to divinity itself, if it suited Xie Lian, Xie Meihua would
do it. "I do it for me."
His lie even sounds credible.
"If His Highness wants to comfortably access sufficient spiritual energy to bestow blessings
on his devotees, he must establish himself on a path of uninterrupted cultivation. Either stop
gambling and devote several hours a day to abstinent meditation, or devote your cultivation
to a path where gambling is allowed," says Feng Xin. His tone is serious, like a rather stern
tutor against one who has been too disobedient, but Xie Meihua understands.
"So, I can't answer prayers at this time?" he asks. Feng Xin and Mu Qing look at each other
again and, this time, it seems a little more difficult for them to look away from each other.
They seem to speak wordlessly to each other with their eyes and eyebrow gestures until they
return his gaze.
"We can help guide your energy to work within a limited space so that you can access the
spiritual energy of devotion more easily," says Feng Xin.
"I'll get parchment for the transcripts," says Mu Qing, as if desperate to get out of an
awkward situation. Immediately he disappears in a surge of energy that makes his skin crawl;
a moment later, beside him there is only grass swaying wildly in an invisible wind until it
stops.
"I have something for Your Highness," says Feng Xin quickly. Xie Meihua looks at him and,
a moment later, he is pulling out a red envelope from inside his robe. He holds it out to him
and Xie Meihua looks at it as if it were a potentially poisonous snake.
"Is that for...?" he begins, but Feng Xin keeps extending it to him, so he decides to grab it
before questioning General Nan Yang's sanity. The envelope is perfectly normal, perhaps a
little thick, and as red as his own robes. The characters of good fortune are written in tight
characters, rather low quality despite the gold ink. "Thank you, I suppose? I, ah, didn't expect
it. Sorry."
"I don't know how much Your Highness knows," says Feng Xin, a moment later. His brow is
slightly furrowed and he seems to fight with every word he says. Xie Meihua can only
empathise with the feeling of choking with his emotions as he speaks and patiently lets him
continue. "But your father, His Highness and I, we were... close, in our youth. Until I failed
him. I only sought to achieve... something better. For all of us," there is bitterness in his
voice, but it fades behind the silence. "I didn't get it. I only got hate, and contempt. And I
deserved it, but that doesn't imply that..."
"My father doesn't hate you," Xie Meihua interrupts him. Feng Xin looks at him as if he has
just told him he has three heads and one is particularly ugly. "He never has. He doesn't hold a
grudge either. He thinks it's been a while, and all the decisions of the past don't matter now,
because it's in the past. I'm the spiteful little shit who hates the gods who abandoned him
when he needed it. My father is too kind to hold such a grudge."
Feng Xin looks as if he had swallowed vinegar. Xie Meihua hastens to continue his sentence.
"But," he says, without a moment's hesitation, "it's not my past, and it's not my memories. My
father has never forgiven anything because he doesn't feel there is anything to forgive. And,
whenever he spoke of you, it was with affection. He told me about Mu Qing every time I
embroidered something delicate in our past, or every time I showed interest in art and
aesthetics. Every time I didn't let adversity keep me from my decisions, he spoke to me about
him. And he told me about you," he looks up at Feng Xin, observing his totally dumbfounded
expression, "Every time we trained, or when I lost my patience. Every time I laughed too
loud at a particularly silly joke. Every time I failed to use the bow he mentioned you fondly,
saying that if it were another situation, another time, you would have been willing to teach
me. Every time we went hunting, or every time I simply came running to him with a new gift
because he deserves the best even in our poverty, he..." Xie Meihua takes a breath of air. His
eyes feel too moist at being confronted with memories of his father who, even eight hundred
years later, missed his friends. "My father considered you both to be friends."
He does not hesitate to say so. However, he hesitates just a little before saying: "He still
does".
He is almost certain that he cannot imagine the tear on Feng Xin's face. However, a second
later, it is not there, as if he had made it disappear.
"Your Highness is..."
"Thank you very much," Xie Meihua interrupts him, holding the envelope in both hands. He
slides it into his robe, held against his belt. He's not sure how polite it is to check inside in
front of Feng Xin, but the truth is that he's never received a red envelope before, so he has no
idea if there is any protocol in them. "I will treasure it."
When Mu Qing returns they have already changed the subject.
The scrolls are piled up in different areas of the ground around him. Feng Xin connects his
pure yan energy (much more toxic and painful against himself, but Xie Meihua does not
complain. Complaining will only lead to questions, and he's sure he doesn't want to answer
any of them) to his veins and runs it through his meridians until it guides his natural yin
energy to push itself into a single corner.
It is painful. It makes him clench his jaw and close his eyes tightly until Feng Xin withdraws
his energy, fast and with a single movement, but now instead of expanding everywhere, the
energy inside himself feels a little volatile, but much more stable. He can almost feel it like
an annoying physical weight against his chest, yin energy mimicking a divine spiritual core.
He has really been neglecting his cultivation a lot. The last time he could feel that weight was
many months ago.
Mu Qing leaves two fingers over his heart, connecting directly with the energy. The burst of
voices is suddenly overwhelming in his head and makes him gasp, like an unknown spiritual
communication array suddenly filled with chaotic voices, but Feng Xin is already there with
two fingers on his forehead.
And they transcribe it.
They use the same spiritual energy in transcribing the prayers. Xie Meihua touches the words
on the scroll and can hear them in his mind, as if they were coming at that very moment.
Merchants asking for his protection from bandits on the roads, an old woman asking for his
protection of her harvest against pests...
Mu Qing and Feng Xin teach him how to manipulate his energy to bless. It’s much easier, but
exhausting, and only after practising with tiny sparks of blessings on Feng Xin and Mu Qing
and checking that he has not harmed them or done anything bad to them does he try blessing
the harvest lady. Although he does not know if it worked, he is anxious to find out.
Blessings are easy after the first two hours; locating his devotees, sending blessings or
spiritual energy that can protect them is tiring, but leaves him with enormous satisfaction.
There are also isolated requests that Xie Meihua feels he should take care of in person
("Protect my father, he is still being pestered by those rude men in the city to give them the
paddy field land...", "Protect my sister. Make her open her eyes and see that her fiancé is an
abuser who doesn't deserve her...", "Open mother's eyes, that man just wants to take
advantage of her and steal from her..."), but, other than that, he feels extremely exhausted
when he ends up with a week of overdue prayers.
There were more than he had even been aware of. All the ordinary people, it seemed, were
thanking and praying to a God who promised to protect them.
Among the scrolls Mu Qing hands him is a rather poorly disguised red envelope; he is quite
sure that Feng Xin sees it too, but he says nothing about it and makes no grimace that might
lead to a fight that would reveal the very envelope he gave him earlier, behind Mu Qing's
back.
For his part, there are no kind or emotional words from Mu Qing, but his intense gaze on him
is grateful as Xie Meihua keeps it next to the envelope Feng Xin had given him earlier. Xie
Meihua also gives him a small, grateful smile.
"Your Highness is popular" says Feng Xin a little after he finishes answering the prayers,
almost as if he is proud of it. Early afternoon is falling and Xie Meihua's stomach aches from
hunger. They haven't moved at any point. "I didn't think that, for a newly ascended God, he
would have this number of requests and devotees."
"I'm just lucky," he snorts. He's pretty sure he wants to take a nap and not wake up for
another two or three days. And maybe eat a soup made by San Lang, with just the right
amount of boiled dough and soft radishes. That sounds idyllic. "I also have a temple, or
something like that. My father is building me one, but I think I convinced him to let me add a
statue of the Flower Crowned Martial God next to mine."
Another glance between Feng Xin and Mu Qing. A smile from both of them before they go
back to pretending, even if it was to each other, to hate each other.
"A Temple with the number of devotees that Your Highness has now would definitely boost
the third ascension of His Highness," says Feng Xin. The little grin on his face is almost a
smile.
Xie Meihua really smiles.
"Then you have revealed my evil plans. Now I shall have to forbid you to return to the
Heavens, General Nan Yang."
Mu Qing rolls his eyes with a smile at his feigned evil tone. Surprisingly, Feng Xin laughs.
It's a small laugh, as if he's reminding himself what it was like to stop being a little less
grumpy. Xie Meihua smiles until, far removed from the voices of prayers he's been hearing
before, a new voice strikes his mind:
"Meihua? Where are you?"
He turns so pale that even Mu Qing and Feng Xin look at him with sudden curiosity. Xie
Meihua brings his hand to his head, quickly slipping into his personal communication array
to communicate with his father:
"A-die, I'm sorry, I'm sorry! I was meditating downstream and I forgot the time!"
"Meditating?" his father doesn't sound like he believes him at all. He even sounds a little
annoyed, and Xie Meihua grimaces. "Really, you couldn't have told me a more believable
excuse?"
"I'm sorry," he apologises a moment later. "I was with, uh... god stuff. Technically I was
meditating. I was looking to learn how to answer prayers. And answering them."
"It's okay, I understand," his father agrees. Xie Lian still sounds a little annoyed, but his
annoyance doesn't exactly seem to be coming from Xie Meihua. If I had to guess, I'd even
say he sounds relieved to hear it. "A-Meihua, when do you think you'll be able to come
home? Something.... happened."
Xie Meihua stands up so fast that his head spins a little.
"What happened?" he asks. He verbalises the question as well to inform his two companions
of the situation; Feng Xin and Mu Qing look at him, alarmed at his tone. Before he can even
say anything else, Feng Xin and Mu Qing stand up and place both their fingers against his
forehead, easily hearing what Xie Lian says a moment later:
"A ghost shell came to the temple a moment ago. He pretended to be a merchant who
survived a catastrophe in the desert. He spoke about the Banyue Pass, so San Lang and I
believe it is a message from someone asking us to go there."
"San Lang?" asks Mu Qing, and Xie Meihua lets out a curse that spreads through the array.
"Language!" scolds Xie Lian, before asking, his tone perhaps a little colder than a moment
before: "Ah, Mu Qing? What are you...?"
"Your Highness, we are on our way," says Feng Xin. He doesn't even let Xie Meihua reply
before they move forward, following an unfamiliar path to the village upstream. Xie Meihua
sighs loudly.
"I'm sorry," he apologises to his father. He can almost see the way the corners of his mouth
turn up, slightly mockingly, at him and his refusal to accept that he had asked for help. After
all, Xie Meihua had always had good pride. "I was doing Gods' things, I told you. We're on
our way!"
"I'll wait for you by heating up the food. San Lang made some soup with meat buns and
vegetables at noon," says his father, and the thought of tasty food only makes Xie Meihua
quicken his steps.
"I'm not late, I'm not late!" he hopes the voice in his private communication array doesn't
sound as hungry as he actually feels but, from the laughter his father lets seep into the array,
he's sure he does sound desperate with hunger. He just hopes his father doesn't burn San
Lang's soup by heating it; though he enjoys his father's cooking and all his effort invested in
cooking for him, at that moment, he is starving for something more delicious than ashes and
charcoal.
Chapter End Notes
The other gods: Ah, what a peaceful day

Xie Meihua: *interrupts the spiritual communication array wildly*
Feng Xin: I'll pretend I haven't seen that red envelope if you pretend you don't know that
I've given him one too
Mu Qing: Done
*breath in, breath out* I know you're probably AS TIRED of Banyue's arc as I am, but
hey, we couldn't deprive Xie Meihua of his no-little sister.
I'm currently writing the first Hua Cheng POV of the ENTIRE fanfic and it's got me on
edge I LOVE THIS MAN, BUT HE'S SO DENSE, POOR DUMB THING.
Anyway, THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING, you know, either I'll see you in
the next chapter or in Twitter where I post Hualian stuff 24/7 and 90% of it is
omegaverse
Going to Banyue Pass
Chapter Summary
Before leaving for Banyue Pass, "Nan Feng" and "Fu Yao" meet San Lang. Also, Xie
Meihua and Xie Lian have a conversation.
Chapter Notes
FIRST, HELLO MY LOVES, PEOPLE I LOVE AND KEEP ME ALIVE

Second, my laptop died. Again, but this time for good. My writing times will be
managed a little differently now, but I guess not too bad!
Third, some people have asked for update times, so how about Sunday? I'm actually
losing my shit with college (I'm practically in my senior year), work, medical issues, and
my dead laptop, but HEY! At least I have a few chapters to go. We'll be able to manage
this!
Thank you so much to everyone who has left loving, sweet, and excited comments! Also
many thanks to Red for beta reading this, my life is literally SAVED thanks to you!
Aaaand also, thank you very much to those people who have defended my honour in
*that* comment, you know which one and you know who you are!! I love you guys so
much, seriously so much, thank you so much for every comment, every read, every
kudo, you make my days worth it, I love you and I hope you enjoy the chapter!
The second time he turns to look at them before entering the village limits, both Mu Qing and
Feng Xin have disguised themselves in their Fu Yao and Nan Feng disguises again. Xie
Meihua snorts, but understands; they have both heard that someone else is with his father,
and whoever it is, neither of them plan to be discovered.
Their temple no longer looks as if it will collapse in a breeze; the repairs they have made to it
stabilise it into a firm structure, but even so, it is not elegant like a royal palace or Nan Yang's
temple itself. Both gods seem to notice, though Xie Meihua only grimaces as he moves much
faster than them, entering their home.
Even with all of the windows open, there is still a thick smell in the air. His father's
pheromones haven't finished venting.
"A-die," he hums, hugging him as soon as he sees him. There's a putrid-looking shrivelled
husk in the corner, and San Lang, only an inch away from his father, looks as unconcerned as
ever. "What happened? Are you okay? Did he hurt you?"
"He couldn't get close enough to do it," San Lang says, amused, and Xie Meihua gives him a
grateful smile. "I'm heating up the soup. Would you like some dumplings?"
"Yes, please," he almost begs. His stomach growls with hunger and the look on his father's
face when he turns away is rather stern.
"You left without breakfast," he scolds him. "Did you at least eat a piece of fruit on the way?"
"Er..." he can lie, easily. The whole village is full of water chestnuts, and he can say he's
eaten a few by the river, but it feels absolutely wrong to lie to him, so he doesn’t. His father
sighs and shakes his head reproachfully.
"You need to eat properly," his father scolds him. San Lang hums a nod by the cooker.
"Luckily, I've made a soup more than suitable for growing youngsters," he says with an
amused note. He's ladling a serving of soup into the bowl, and the aroma it gives off makes
his stomach growl again. "Browned vegetables, dumplings, and for lack of noodles, a little
dough. It's perfectly seasoned and there's enough left over for two servings if you want
seconds."
"You deserve heaven," groans Xie Meihua, throwing himself against the bowl San Lang
offers him to sit down to eat. The look on San Lang's face is absolutely amused.
"Ah, I'm sure Heaven wouldn't want me there."
Apparently, that is the exact moment Fu Yao and Nan Feng choose to enter.
"Your Highness?" they ask, and Xie Meihua doesn't know whether they mean himself or his
father.
As abruptly as he enters, Nan Feng pauses in the doorway with dilated pupils. There is an
easy-to-notice stiffness in his suddenly tense muscles. Xie Lian steps forward with nervous
movements.
"Nan Feng, Nan Feng, I'm sorry, we haven't finished airing the place out!" he says, his voice
fully filled with utterly embarrassed laughter. Xie Meihua is sure he can barely smell the
remaining scent of pheromones, but he's probably already desensitised to it after a week. Nan
Feng's reaction of freezing is quite normal for any other alpha to notice something like that
when entering a house. "Come in, it's fine."
"Gege shouldn't have to ventilate his own house for the comfort of others," says San Lang,
and abruptly both gods' gazes land on him. Xie Meihua looks at him with a smile, noting the
almost malicious grimace on San Lang's face. "If they don't feel comfortable or able to
control themselves, they would simply have to leave."
The expression of both gods turns from puzzlement and amazement to dark alarm. Xie
Meihua immediately rises to his feet, ready to stand between San Lang and any overreaction
from the two foolish gods, but it is Nan Feng who steps forward to stand right between Xie
Meihua and San Lang, saying, "Get away!"
Xie Meihua blinks, confused.
"What?" he asks, for his part. He doesn't dare touch Nan Feng's shoulder, fearing it will spark
a fight. "What are you doing?"
"What's wrong?" asks his father, instead. Xie Lian wears an expression more curious than
alarmed.
San Lang, for his part, looks almost bored. He turns off the fire under the pot with a wave of
his hand before fiddling with the ladle in his hands, smiling, "What's wrong?" he asks as
well.
Fu Yao steps forward another pace.
"Who are you?"
"He's a friend of mine," says Xie Lian. Xie Meihua turns at his father's dreamy expression as
he says it. "Do you know him?"
"I don't," San Lang has this expression so innocent and falsely naive that Xie Meihua is sure
he's lying. "Gege, who are these two people?"
Nan Feng's expression twists in distaste, Fu Yao's expression in contempt.
"Ah, don't worry..."
"Don't talk to him!" raises Nan Feng's voice. Xie Meihua lets out a loud sigh.
"Don't raise your voice!" he scolds, as sternly as he can. Nan Feng looks at him as if he is
mad. "This is a temple and a family home. Not a place fit for shouting."
"But-...!"
"You guys know him?" asks Xie Lian again. He walks over to the table, taking a seat across
from Xie Meihua, gently patting the wood for Xie Meihua to do the same. Still, Xie Meihua
does not relax.
"No," they both deny after a rather tense silence. "No, we don't."
"Then why are they being so dramatic?" complains Xie Meihua.
Fu Yao is the first in whose hand a halo of light shimmers. Nan Feng is next. Xie Meihua
slips between the path of San Lang and the two of them, arms firmly folded across his chest,
looking at them so sternly he feels his eyes burn.
"You're being stupid and reckless," he scolds them. He can hear San Lang's small chuckle
behind him. "I warn you that if a single plank of wood in my temple is moved by your little
magic tricks, you are going to have to build it all over again. I will not tolerate this
disrespect."
The sparks of light diminish as quickly as the threat falls upon them. Nan Feng is the first to
turn to Xie Lian, absolutely flustered. Xie Meihua turns to San Lang, his back to a perplexed
Fu Yao.
"Are you alright?" he asks. The look in San Lang's eyes is warm.
"Didi has defended me from the intruders' tantrums, how could this one not be alright?"
replies San Lang, totally playful, and Xie Meihua laughs a little.
"Don't be dramatic yourself," he scolds, before sliding back to the table. His soup is getting
cold, but it's just the right temperature when he takes his first sip.
Nan Feng, desperately, is asking Xie Lian:
"Where did you meet this person? What is his surname? Where does his family live? Where
does he come from? Why is he with you?"
Xie Meihua bites into a soft piece of vegetable. It tastes heavenly and he throws a grateful
smile at San Lang who, at that moment, is just leaning against the kitchen with a rather
mocking expression.
Xie Lian replies, "A-Meihua and he met on the way here, his name is San Lang, and I don't
know the rest. He is an artist that the military officials have hired to build the statue for the
temple. As he had nowhere else to stay he has been with us ever since."
"You..." Nan Feng seems on the verge of tearing his hair out in despair. At a much more
prudent distance, Xie Meihua can observe Fu Yao's analysis of San Lang, the way he
examines him with inordinate attention. "Your Highness, you know nothing about him, yet
you allow him to stay? He is an unknown alpha, what if he had some ill intent with you?"
"How bold of you to assume that I would let him in if he were less than a gentleman," says
Xie Meihua, after a gulp of soup. It is rich and hearty, and his hungry stomach is grateful.
"San Lang has been the kindest person in the world. More than you, I might say."
Nan Feng's mouth twists as if he has drunk vinegar.
"That's true," agrees Xie Lian. His tone is soft and contemplative. "San Lang has been kind,
good company and a good person to live with. We have even spent my heat together and he
has been a great help. He has provided very well for this temple and this house. Would you
please stop being so melodramatic?"
Fu Yao's mouth opens in an expression of shock. A moment later, he croaks, "Your Highness,
what?"
Fu Yao's ears are red. A shadow of a blush is on Nan Feng's face before deathly, ashen pallor
floods his features as his gaze goes from Xie Lian to San Lang at the implication of his
words, more specifically of having spent his heat together and what that might mean. His
father, of course, doesn't notice, or feigns innocence as well as he can with the tips of his ears
reddening in an embarrassed blush.
Xie Meihua throws his head back to see San Lang's satisfied expression. He stretches his
smile into a much more falsely innocent one before asking, "Should I call you “Baba” now?"
San Lang's expression barely jolts. A moment of shock later, he follows his false innocence
though, replying simply, "If Didi wanted to..."
"You guys are being horrible too," Xie Lian scolds, the laughter shaking his shoulders
making it almost hard to take the scolding tone with which he speaks to them seriously.
"Don't play like that either. Our guests are going to faint and it'll be your fault."
"Hmn," San Lang hums with a hint of dissatisfaction. "But why would I care if gege's
servants faint?"
"They're not my servants," Xie Lian says quickly, though he seems to be smiling very
mockingly despite the speed with which he corrects the statement. "Although, A-Meihua...?"
Xie Meihua fiddles with a piece of radish at the bottom of his soup. His plate is almost empty
by this point.
"Helpers, to be more precise," he replies, without the slightest hint of mockery in his voice.
To call them servants would be utterly demeaning, whether he wants to mock them or not, he
respects them enough not to purposely humiliate them on something as serious as that. "Yes,
they would be helpers."
San Lang reaches out his hand to the side of the kitchen and grabs something which he tosses
to Fu Yao.
"Then why don't you help out a little?"
The broom lands between Fu Yao's hands. His expression is white for a moment before his
face turns the most absolute red, humiliated, with a look most capable of shattering the
broom in his hands with barely a snort.
"Now, now!" his father stands up quickly, snatching the broom from his hands. "I only have
this broom. Don't break it."
Barely an instant later, however, Fu Yao launches a ball of pale energy directly at San Lang's
head as he shouts, "Reveal your true form!"
San Lang merely cocks his head, dodging it, and the energy ball crashes into the side of the
kitchen's upper shelves. Xie Meihua gasps in horror as the wood explodes on impact, bowls
and herbs flying in all directions of the kitchen along with the wood chips and splinters.
He stands up so abruptly that his chair falls over.
"Enough" he says firmly. At his shout Fu Yao pales, taking a step back. His eyes don't look at
his face, but look at his hands and arms, as if searching for something there. Xie Meihua
doesn't even want to wonder what he's thinking. "Out now. Both of you."
"Your Highness..." begins Nan Feng, but Xie Meihua dares now to actually grab hold of his
arm, throwing him against Fu Yao. Nan Feng is sturdy and heavy, but after Xie Meihua's
expression, he allows himself to be moulded like a rag doll. They both stagger by the door,
pupils dilated, expressions perplexed.
"GET OUT!" he shouts. He feels his hands shaking and is absolutely certain that the number
of times he has lost control like that is counted. "HOW DARE YOU? THIS IS MY HOME.
I'm not losing ANOTHER HOME, least of all because of TWO IDIOTS who don't know how
to BEHAVE CORRECTLY! GET OUT!"
Fu Yao and Nan Feng run out of the house so fast they seem to be holding each other so they
don't fall, stumbling against their own feet. His father is tugging on his arm quickly and,
before Xie Meihua knows it, he's hugging Xie Lian tightly with the biggest knot of crying
he's had since the collapse of his old house prickling against his throat.
"There, there," his father hums, soft against his arms. He lets him snuggle against his
embrace and releases soothing pheromones, much softer and more comfortable as he tries to
calm his crying. He brushes his hair and leaves caresses on his cheeks as Xie Meihua allows
himself to cry bitterly, hating his own weakness. "Take a deep breath, my treasure. It's okay.
We won't lose another house, okay, my little boy? Leave it to me. I'll go talk to them."
It takes him many deep breaths to calm himself. Xie Meihua wipes his eyes and nods,
dropping vulnerably against the chair as his father walks out the door. Although he can hear
the voices outside, he ignores them.
San Lang hands him a cup of water. His hand hesitates but, a moment later, it settles on top of
his head with a reassuring caress.
"Thank you," he murmurs, drinking the cup of cool water. His mouth tastes of soup and tears,
and it's a rather unpleasant combination. "I'm... I'm sorry for..."
"Didi doesn't have to apologise for letting his emotions out. It's healthy," San Lang says
softly. His hand still hovers high above his head, moving slowly in a gentle, calm, soothing
manner. "Those servants, though..."
Xie Meihua forces a smile.
"And I didn't mean to offend them by calling them servants!" he growls, annoyed. His eyes
dart to the ground, covered in bowls, splinters, pieces of wood and broken glass surrounded
by weeds. His chest heaves. "This isn't right."
He stands up and reaches for the broom. San Lang snatches it out of his hands.
"Didi shouldn't be sweeping this. Let this San Lang handle it."
Xie Meihua sighs but rummages for a bucket where they gather the dry leaves. He puts it
next to the rubbish that San Lang sweeps up, letting the larger pieces fit in there so he can
sweep the splinters and glass out. He's sure they should bury them to avoid hurting their feet.
They are collecting the rubbish when Xie Meihua begins to pay attention to the conversation
of his father and the two idiot gods.
"Doesn't Your Highness think the young man is strange?"
"Of course I do."
Xie Meihua looks at San Lang, perplexed. His father has always had a mania for being
absolutely honest. San Lang smiles, also aware and confident of the conversation behind the
wall.
"A-Die knows you're a ghost?" dares Xie Meihua to ask in a whisper. San Lang shrugs.
"He suspects it. He has inspected me for answers to that," he replies, also in a low voice. Xie
Meihua tilts his face, confused.
"How?" he asks. For his part, San Lang extends his hand towards him. Xie Meihua brings it
close to his face, looking for something different than his own hand... finding absolutely
nothing. All the lines are there, along with fingerprints and movement marks.
"Chiromancy?" he asks. San Lang laughs.
"Ghosts," he says, in that instructive, patient tone, far from his usual teasing, "don't usually
have lines on their hands. Nor fingerprints."
"But San Lang has," he says, after a moment. All the lines that are present on his hand are
also present on San Lang's, every double and every curve in its exact place. "Does that make
you a powerful ghost to be able to hide well behind those details?"
San Lang hums a nod as he finishes sweeping up the pieces of wood. Xie Meihua suddenly
has the reality that a very powerful ghost is sweeping the floor in front of him and smiles.
"Thank you," he says after banging the bucket a little to settle the rubbish into place. "If you
wanted to confirm it, A-Die wouldn't mind if you were a ghost. He's already taken a liking to
you. Just because you're not human isn't going to change that."
At that moment, they both hear:
"I like him. A lot, actually. Be nice. Don't bully him."
San Lang sits up with a dazzling smile and extends his hand towards Xie Meihua, who takes
it to sit up as well. San Lang ruffles his hair again, warm, and it is at that moment that Xie
Lian enters with the two idiot gods behind.
"San Lang, you're not hurt, are you?" his father asks, quickly lunging towards him. Xie
Meihua steps back an inch, just enough for his father to examine San Lang closely, removing
a couple of stray splinters among the dark strands of his hair. "That was a close call."
"Gege doesn't have to worry about this one," San Lang says carefully. "I'm fine. The furniture
is worse, on the other hand."
"You're going to buy me a new one, you know that, right?" says Xie Meihua, looking coldly
at Fu Yao. Fu Yao nods quickly.
"I apologize, Your Highness. I didn't mean to."
"Of course he didn’t mean to," his father says in a much calmer voice. "Everything that just
happened was a big misunderstanding. I hope San Lang won't be offended."
San Lang smiles although, now, his smile is a little more playful than kind.
"How could I be offended?" he says, fiddling with one of the loose strands of his hair.
"Maybe they mistook me. They thought I was someone else."
Fu Yao's brow twitches.
"Precisely," he replies in an icy tone. "Very much like someone else. I was probably wrong
about the resemblance."
"Mmh," San Lang hums, mockingly. "That's a coincidence. I also thought you two looked a
bit like a couple of fools I've met some time ago."
Xie Meihua raises an eyebrow, now looking curiously at San Lang. He knew the Southern
Gods? That was new, and worrying, considering San Lang was a Wrath level ghost or
something. Had they clashed before and hence the sudden reaction?
Neither Fu Yao nor Nan Feng responded. After a sigh, Xie Lian informs them: "This situation
occurred."
And he explains to them about the man who came from the Banyue Pass, but he was neither
hungry nor thirsty. The explanation about the caravans, the missing people and, promptly,
how he had melted into himself into an empty shell. Xie Meihua listens attentively along with
Fu Yao and Nan Feng, and slips into the spiritual communication array when his father has
just given the outline explanation.
A bit of chaos is expected, due to his latest threat. However, everyone seems terribly
enthusiastic, and easily prone to ignore him when he hears them.
Ling Wen greets him, "Your Highness, you are back. Have you found the answers you were
looking for?"
Xie Meihua grimaces.
"I have," he says with little patience. "What's the fuss?"
"Lord Windmaster has returned and is handing out merits. Would you like to collect some?"
asks Ling Wen. Xie Meihua grimaces again, now disgusted.
"Ah, there are gods snatching merits from the air and the one in debt was me?" he asks, and
though he has malice in his question, no god seems to pay him any attention as they steal the
merits. He hears that one stole a hundred, another a thousand, and another kept only one. Xie
Meihua laughs, "I'm actually here on official business. Does anyone know anything about the
Banyue Pass?"
Xie Meihua had heard many Gods pass business from hand to hand while he was waiting for
his debt to be settled. Things like, ‘Is this ghost dangerous?’ ‘How do I get these talismans?’
‘What is the spell for...?’ ‘Is anyone around to give me a hand with this situation?’, were
absolutely common. Some Gods responded, others came directly.
At that moment nobody answers.
Xie Meihua wonders if it's really so damning to burn a couple of temples. Maybe if he burns
them they might take his threats seriously and respond to him when it's something a little
more important?
Suddenly someone says, "Lord Windmaster threw another hundred thousand merits!"
And the Gods laugh again, snatching merits from each other. Xie Meihua lets out a tired
snort. He is ready to follow up with threats (if Lord Windmaster can throw merits, he can
probably throw insults and a bit of fire) when Ling Wen communicates with him directly in
private:
"Your Highness, why are you asking about Banyue Pass?"
Xie Meihua sums up the situation as quickly as he can, "Then, then the empty shell came to
the temple, saying he had escaped from there. It clearly has a purpose in mind, that whoever
sent it, sent it for something. And my father wants to go find out on his own. How dangerous
is it?"
Ling Wen takes a moment before saying, "Your Highness, regarding the whole matter, I
advise you not to participate and to dissuade your father from doing so."
Xie Meihua raises an eyebrow.
"Your Honour, with all due respect, you are now forcing me to do so just for taking issue with
you," he replies simply. Obviously he wasn't planning on letting his father go off on his own,
but the idea of irritating Ling Wen a little is amusing. "Every time a caravan travels through
the pass, more than half the people disappear. Or so the empty shell said, is that true? That's
all I want to know. I want to know how dangerous it is."
Ling Wen hesitates before replying simply, "It's hard to say more about this."
"You not wanting to help me is suspicious," Xie Meihua complains. After all, as a Civil
Goddess, Ling Wen was in charge of knowing everything about everything, bestowing
answers, arranging the prayers of scholars. She definitely had to know that, if something was
going on, what was going on and why. Refusing to say was something that caught his
attention too much. "Is it something personal, is it to do with Her Honour Ling Wen, or is it
to do with the three tumours? I've heard some rumours that..."
Xie Meihua notices himself ejected from Ling Wen's private communication array. He sighs.
"Rude," he complains aloud. His father's eyes are on him, intent, and Xie Meihua explains,
"The Heavens know something, but it probably has to do with one of the Three Tumours.
Ling Wen wouldn't tell me anything, and I think I offended her or something."
"Three Tumours?" asks Xie Lian. Xie Meihua scratches his cheek innocently.
"Ling Wen, The Water Tyrant Shi Wudu and General Pei Ming," he explains, sighing. His
head is beginning to ache with the thought of another jealous raging bride. "Pei Ming again. I
bet it's about him again. The Banyue Pass is much further north, after all. It's directly his
territory. How could something like this happen in his territory without him noticing?"
Xie Lian hums a nod.
"We can't venture into such conjectures just yet," he says softly, even if he seems to openly
agree with his assumptions. "Because it is the desert, I recommend leaving in the early
evening and following the road through the night. We'll be spared much of the sun."
"I'll draw a distance shortening array," says Nan Feng after a slight hesitation. Despite this,
his expression is not as confident as before, and Xie Meihua confirms this when he hears him
ask, with a thread of a voice, "May I...?"
Xie Meihua abruptly remembers that he yelled at both of them for breaking the furniture.
He's not going to apologise for that, and he doesn't think he should. Still, he grimaces,
uncomfortably, but points to the door.
"You can do it at the door."
Nan Feng nods and moves to do so. Fu Yao, standing in the corner, looks rather judicious.
His eyes are elusive looking at the decoration of old and cluttered furniture, but when Xie
Meihua makes eye contact with him, Fu Yao says absolutely nothing about it.
Inwardly, Xie Meihua thanks him. He's not in the best mood to take criticism about his home.
"I'll get my bag," he says, with an exhausted sigh. Apparently he won't be able to sleep for
two days like he wanted to. "Do you guys have any supplies?"
Fu Yao and Nan Feng exchange a glance. They both deny.
"Wonderful," Xie Meihua says so sarcastically it burns. "At least carry water."
As Xie Meihua heads to his room, he can hear his father ask San Lang, "Ah, San Lang, you
were explaining it to me before they arrived. What happened to that demonic cultivator
Banyue?"
And Xie Meihua keeps hearing about the Banyue Kingdom and the story about the two Head
Priests, specifically about the demonic cultivator Banyue, while emptying his bag. He hides
the golden bowls between the robes and carefully stacks the scrolls about Hua Cheng on top.
As he stacks them, however, he notices that he has probably missed one. He is sure he had
had thirteen, and now, as much as he checks, there are only twelve.
He is not sure at what point he lost one. Nor does he give it much thought.
When he leaves with his empty bag to load it with fruit and canteens of water, San Lang has
separated the fruit, arranging the last of the bread rolls in paper bags. It's not really a large
menu, and obviously it will be harder to share it equally with Nan Feng and Fu Yao, but Xie
Meihua is sure he can convince his father to eat his own portion if he tells him he feels sick
from the heat.
San Lang has just told them about the fall of the Banyue Kingdom, and how the ghosts of the
resentful warriors had failed to disperse. His father has the soft look in his eyes again as he
looks at him, so Xie Meihua jumps up very obviously surprised when his father's hand
squeezes gently but firmly on his wrist.
"A-Meihua and I are going to fetch some water downstream," he gives the indication. "San
Lang, can you collect some water chestnuts for the journey?"
Xie Meihua knows immediately that his father wants to talk to him privately. San Lang nods
with a quiet ‘mhm’ as he, campily, walks past Fu Yao and Nan Feng without so much as a
glance at them. Xie Meihua and Xie Lian follow the road, leaving the two generals alone, and
Xie Meihua prays that in the five minutes they are left there they will not collapse the temple.
They walk downstream. Only when they kneel by the river to load the canteens, in a quick
and embarrassed manner, does his father say, "I kissed San Lang".
The canteen falls from Xie Meihua's hands. He turns to look at his father with astonished
eyes. Xie Lian has pink ears and dodges his gaze, but quickly grabs the canteen that Xie
Meihua dropped before it is washed away.
Xie Meihua has no idea how to put into words the high-pitched scream that is rattling his
mind. It was unexpected. And surprising. And wonderful! His father taking a step in pursuit
of his own happiness! And it wasn't that Xie Meihua believed that his father needed someone
to make him happy, not at all, but... He hadn't been happy in his loneliness. He had wrapped
himself in misfortune as his only companion, and Xie Lian deserved more than that. His
father deserved to be cared for, protected, loved, and all Xie Meihua can say after a dense
silence is, "Oh, God."
"I panicked right after, and neither San Lang nor I have ever seriously talked about it!" his
father says quickly and embarrassed. Xie Meihua has never heard that tone from him before,
which is amusing and certainly endearing. He takes a whole moment to regulate his voice
before continuing to speak. "But... I wanted to tell you when you came back, but then these
things happened, and ah..." his father hesitates a little. His voice is low and still quite
embarrassed, but he sounds confident in his own words. "I needed to tell you as soon as
possible. I... I wanted to know if you were okay with... me accepting that kind of company
from San Lang."
"If I agreed?" Xie Meihua raises an eyebrow, utterly flabbergasted by the turn of his father's
words. "Why is that important?"
Xie Lian looks at him almost offended. His eyes, clear and unclouded, shine brighter than
Xie Meihua has ever seen before.
"You are my son," he says slowly. There is no hesitation in his voice, only assurance: Xie
Lian seems to have thought his words through carefully all day. "This foolish old father may
want his own happiness, but he will always want his little son's comfort before all else. You
are the most important person in my life, baobei. And even though you're a god now, you're
still my child. If it bothers you that San Lang is around, or if it might make you
uncomfortable in any way, just tell me. I will respect that."
Xie Meihua lets his smile spread.
"A-Die," he says, when he can find his voice among his emotions, "San Lang makes you
happy. You being happy is all I want. Why would it bother me that you two want to be
together?"
His father smiles, and he looks completely relieved. Xie Meihua notices how his shoulders
look much less tense, as if a great weight has been lifted from him, and how his cheeks glow
a soft pink, like the powdery warmth of having sunbathed during a lazy afternoon.
His father looks happy, and that's all Xie Meihua wants.
"But," he dares to say, and his father looks at him curiously at his tone of voice, "if San Lang
dares to break your heart, I will exorcise him."
His father lets out a low chuckle. He looks so cheerful that he even looks younger; it's not as
if Xie Lian could look older but, usually, when Xie Meihua looked at him it was easy to
notice that the age dwelling in his soul was not the same as that of his body. Now, it is very
easy to mistake his youth and his joy in the same image.
"So, did you also notice that he's a ghost?" His father asks with a hint of mockery, and Xie
Meihua makes an amused gesture. It was obvious that his father would not only notice, but
would care little and nothing.
"Well, San Lang isn't very good at hiding it," he says with a smile. He was very relieved that
his father had noticed too, after all. Telling him or waiting for San Lang to tell him sounded
like something that would take a long time. So, he raises an eyebrow at his own revelation,
before asking with his best innocent expression and raised eyebrows, "A-die, do you have
any particular taste in ghosts? You know, because my father and now San Lang..."
His father watches him with such indignation that Xie Meihua bursts out laughing hugging
his stomach, dodging the splashing water from his father's side.
"Shameless! How dare you, Xie Meihua! What kind of person have I raised! You can't say
things like that about your silly old father! It's horrible!" His father is scolding him, totally
ashamed and indignant, while Xie Meihua laughs out loud holding his stomach.
With his eyes misty with tears of laughter and drops of cold water running down his face
from some of the splashing water his father throws at him, Xie Meihua is almost certain that
the little silver butterfly floating among the trees at sunset is part of his imagination. One
second it is there, catching the last rays of the evening sun on its wings, and a blink later it is
gone. It makes sense that it's just an optical illusion or his overflowing imagination because
what would be the point of Hua Cheng spying on them?
There are lots of butterflies everywhere, he's sure. It could have been a common butterfly and
Xie Meihua is just paranoid, or longing to meet him once and for all.
Chapter End Notes
Xie Meihua: Then, should I call you Dad?

Fengqing, suspecting San Lang's true identity: Please NO!!!
Also:
Xie Lian: I kissed San Lang.

Xie Meihua: Well, GOD, FINALLY!!!!
It was nice to write Xie Meihua losing his shit when part of his house was broken, poor
baby, he has mismanaged loss traumas that will continue to be mismanaged :(
Ahh, Banyue's arc! My favorite part? Banyue, cute girl. Everything else I already know
by heart, but it's an inevitable ride. The most I can promise you is that it will be treated
with brevity!
Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Thank you so much
for all your support, and you know, you can follow me on Twitter where I'm also doing a
GIVEAWAY because thanks to you, we are now 1,500 little people there! Thank you so
much!
See you in the next chapter sweetheart!

Feet full of sand
Chapter Summary
The road to Banyue is long, but long trips are always better with family (and servants).
Chapter Notes
Final exams are killing me and my Xie Lian statue is not going to sculpt itself, even my
professor is expectant about it LMAO hello everyone, as always thank you so much for
every read, every comment and every kudo. Every crumb of love I receive fulfills and
covers all that I didn't receive during my childhood
Ten million thanks to Red for beta reading this and not judging me for my mistakes (big,
big mistakes)
I hope you enjoy the chapter!
The Temple of His Midnight Highness is silent when they return with several canteens full of
water. San Lang sits on the floor by the door and gives them an amused smile as he waves to
them, pointing to the large amount of water chestnuts he has collected. His father gives him a
proud smile.
"Thank you very much, San Lang!" he says, stepping forward to hold out his hand. San Lang
seems to hesitate for a second, but accepts it. He stands up with such a small smile that Xie
Meihua rolls his eyes mockingly as he walks past them.
They should try not to be so obvious. Or just be.
Fu Yao and Nan Feng, surprisingly, have not killed each other in his absence. They seem to
have kept a controlled truce of cold stares and no communication to avoid fighting each
other. The fruit and food is neatly packed on the table, and Xie Meihua smiles a little,
separating it into five equal parts next to the five canteens of fresh water. That should be
enough for a day or two, and he hopes they don't delay any longer.
He changes from his outer tunic to his other, older but sturdier robe. He reaches for his
swords and ties them to his belt tightly to keep them from falling out.
When he returns to the kitchen San Lang and his father are already there, packing their
respective supplies for the journey. His father has his hat back on, and his smile is warm as he
converses quietly with San Lang about the fallen Kingdom of Banyue. Xie Meihua pays half-
hearted attention, yielding his meagre privacy to them.
"When should we leave?" asks Nan Feng. Xie Meihua shrugs.
"The sun is already going down."
They each pack their supplies. Xie Meihua takes care to double-check that he hasn't forgotten
anything, absolutely certain that mental exhaustion can't be an impediment to going for a
walk in the middle of the desert in the middle of a lost kingdom. Of course. He sighs, rather
wearily, before following his father and the disguised celestial officers behind the open gate.
There is no Puqi Village behind the gate. They are on a narrow street in a small, almost
uninhabited town. Fu Yao seems immediately ready to argue when he sees San Lang among
them, but the look Xie Meihua sinks into him must be a good warning, for he shuts his
mouth.
"According to the ancient texts, when the moon sinks, you have to follow the North Star to
reach the Banyue Kingdom," says San Lang. His tone is soft and jovial as he points to the sky
in front of them. "Look, Gege! There's Polaris!"
He points to the star in the sky, huge and bright in front of them. Xie Meihua smiles softly as
he walks past them, settling in between Fu Yao and Nan Feng.
"Indeed," he says in an almost nonchalant manner, glancing at Nan Feng to catch his eye as
they move forward. Intentionally, he leaves his father and San Lang behind them, gifting
them a little privacy. It's not much, but it's all he can do for them during the trip. "You had
mentioned about different cultivations, are there some that can be trained through abstinence,
but with certain freedoms?"
"There are some," Nan Feng replies, suddenly very predisposed to ignore Xie Lian and San
Lang flirting several steps behind them. "Usually, abstinence cultivations require a purity of
body and mind. It wouldn't do any good to have purity of body if the mind is not kept pure."
"That's another point against me, my mind is not pure at all. I'm quite mischievous at times,"
Xie Meihua hums to himself, then cocks his head towards Fu Yao, including him in the
conversation and catching his attention away from his father's and San Lang's blatant
flirtations. "Any advice you can give me?"
Xie Meihua makes sure to move on quickly, leaving a space of silence and calm between
them and his father with San Lang, meanwhile Feng Xin and Mu Qing advise on cultivation,
priests, complementary martial studies, and hundreds of things that Xie Meihua doesn't really
care about, but takes advantage of the distraction. The night carries them with isolated
conversations, soft words and the sound of their footsteps until the earth turns to sand, as they
slowly make their way into the Gobi desert.
By morning, even with the beautiful sunrise shining before their eyes, Xie Meihua feels too
exhausted to even force himself to speak or to even be a distraction so that Feng Xin and Mu
Qing in disguise do not attack each other, or attack San Lang. Even his father and San Lang
are silent, seemingly exhausted from the walk. Xie Meihua reminds himself that his father
shouldn't even be exerting himself so much, just recovered from his heat, but his father
doesn't even seem weaker than he is.
The sun brings a heat that makes you dazed and sick. Moving his feet feels as heavy as
keeping his eyes open. Yet when he turns his head to check on his father and San Lang after
mid-morning, he finds the almost adorable image of San Lang with Xie Lian's hat on his
head, and the two of them walking too close together, hidden by the shadow the hat casts on
both of them.
The joy Xie Meihua has at Xie Lian's smile holding onto San Lang's arm is so warm, pleasant
and gentle that it keeps him walking without complaint for half a shichen longer.
Then the heat collapses all the functionality of his brain. He feels tired, hungry, thirsty, his
eyes burn with fatigue and he might as well crawl rather than keep moving. His feet ache, his
head is exploding in the worst pain he's had in days, and his stomach is definitely not
growling for fun.
"I'm tired," he groans. Nan Feng sighs.
"Your Highness, there's still a while to go..."
"I know," he moans again, jaded. "But I'm tired. Do any of you want to carry me on your
back?"
"Your Highness-....!"
Xie Meihua laughs at Fu Yao's indignant sound as he intentionally plops down on him. Nan
Feng's pheromones burst out, intentionally aggressive, and Xie Meihua laughs again,
releasing him.
"All right, all right!" he says quickly, stepping aside. He dodges Nan Feng and sneaks around
to intentionally push him closer to Fu Yao. "He's all yours."
"What are you trying to say-...?" Fu Yao turns, utterly indignant, and Xie Meihua dodges his
gaze by slinking a few more steps to the side with a playful laugh. His footsteps in the sand
sink a little, and he is still exhausted, but the laughter of riling the two foolish gods cheers
him up until they can see the greyish structure in the distance.
Approaching it feels like a dream. The abandoned inn was still hot from the intense sun, but
there is shade under a functional roof and a slightly cooler atmosphere than the rest of the
desert under the hot sun, and the first thing Xie Meihua does when they walk through the
door is throw himself against the ground, leaning back against the wooden floor. It's far from
cold, but it's not burning hot like the sand outside either. It's much more comfortable and
cooler.
"I'm going to melt," he complains. Xie Lian enters at that moment and gives him a mocking
look.
"It's just a little sunshine."
"I'm going to melt!" complains Xie Meihua dramatically. "I'm melting. Look at me. I'm
melting. I'm melting-"
"I don't think you're hydrated enough to melt in the first place," his father points out to him,
and Xie Meihua lets out a groan, noting the desperate thirst in his throat. He pouts.
"It's not fair. I didn't even want to come."
His father smiles calmly at him. Xie Meihua knows he's taking it as a frazzled tantrum, just
like so many others in the past. He takes a seat at the rickety table next to San Lang, across
from Fu Yao and Nan Feng.
"No one forced you."
"I wasn't going to let you expose yourself to danger alone!"
"I wasn't going to expose myself to danger, and I wasn't going to do it alone either," his father
says almost haughtily, raising an eyebrow. San Lang seems almost proud of himself for
having been considered in such an adventure from the start. "You don't have to take care of
me, A-Meihua."
"I have to, what else would I do if not?" sighs Xie Meihua, pulling his bag off his shoulder to
extract his canteen of water. He takes a swig, enjoying the cool water that soothes the dryness
in his mouth. He takes a couple of controlled gulps, managing the level of water he still has
left. He doesn't know when they will have access to fresh water again, so rationing is the
right thing to do in this situation.
His father, opposite them, does the same.
"Would San Lang like water?"
San Lang nods. Xie Meihua watches San Lang drink a little before handing the canteen of
water to his father, his gaze warm as he watches him drink. A couple of gulps later, San Lang
asks, "Is there any left?"
Xie Lian goes to give him his canteen again when Fu Yao interjects.
"Just a moment," he says with a strange look on his face. "I have water over here."
He sets the canteen of water down in front of San Lang. Xie Meihua narrows his gaze on the
canteen because, of course, he remembers the canteens they filled at the river. He is
absolutely sure that this is not one of them.
San Lang lets out a small laugh.
"Gege and I can share."
"Your water is almost gone. I insist, you can drink."

Xie Meihua arches his eyebrows as he stands up with all the effort of his muscles. His entire
body aches from exhaustion as he leans a little against the wall, extending his arms and legs
in stretching motions looking for the muscles to stop aching from the arduous walk in the
sun.
There is also a nagging sensation at the base of his head, as if he recognises something
dangerous, but it is so distant that he doesn't even notice it.
"Really? Then you two can drink first."
"You're the guest, you go first."
"You are Didi's helpers. You guys go first, or I'll feel bad."
Xie Meihua lets out a snort of laughter. Fu Yao looks at him, completely offended.
"Stop bullying San Lang," Xie Meihua complains, advancing a little towards them with his
arms folded across his chest. "Why are you so insistent that he drink the water? Did you put
poison in it to get rid of San Lang? If so, I would be very angry with you."
Fu Yao looks livid at the accusation.
"Of course it doesn't have poison in it!"
"Didi, always so worried about this San Lang," San Lang mutters, leaning his face on his
hand. He looks dreamily playful. "Did you also notice the cruel insistence of these attendants
to poison this one? It's not fair at all."
"The water has no poison in it at all!" continues Fu Yao gesticulating, being totally ignored.
Xie Meihua walks over to the table, snatching the water from Fu Yao's hands with a smirk.
"Then can I drink it?" he says. The bottle is snatched from his hands as soon as Xie Meihua
removes the cap, ready to drink just to irritate Fu Yao. His mouth falls ajar, utterly astonished
when he finds the canteen in his father's hands.
"No," he says, with an absolutely serious look that brooks no reply. His eyes are not only
serious: there is a warning there, a warning that Xie Meihua does not ignore, but which is
absolutely strange. So the water is something special, after all? He didn't doubt it, but in the
face of his father's refusal to allow him to drink the water, would it be something that would
expose ghosts, or ghost energy? "There is no poison in the water, A-Meihua. Don't be
dramatic. You encourage the dramatics of San Lang."
And, speaking of San Lang, it is at that moment that San Lang takes the bottle from Xie
Lian's hands with a pleased smile.
"If Gege says there's no poison in it, I'll drink."
And he drinks.
Nothing happens. Even Xie Meihua notices himself tense, expectantly, but San Lang finishes
the water and wipes the corner of his mouth, gesturing.
"Well, your water tastes bad."
"You-....! It's just water, it can't taste horrible!"
"Gege water tastes much better!" continues San Lang, playfully, and Xie Meihua is the one
rolling his eyes now. He picks up the canteen from where San Lang threw it, watching it
closely for any spells, before setting it down in front of Fu Yao after finding nothing evident
on any outer or inner surface.
Fu Yao is livid, but the following is a little more dramatic, even if Xie Meihua was called
dramatic himself. Next to him, behind a metallic rattle, Nan Feng pulls a sword from his belt
and lays it on the table.
"What are you doing?" asks Xie Lian, a little astonished. This could be seen as an act of war
or a challenge. Nan Feng grimaces before saying:
"We are going to a dangerous destination, and our guest does not have a weapon of his own.
Therefore, I offer him this sword to defend himself."
"That's where you're wrong," Xie Meihua interrupts him. He takes the sword from the table
before his father can stop him, examining the expensive, overly elegant hilt. Did Feng Xin
really think he could pass off the sword as the sword of a midheaven official? Xie Meihua is
certain that that kind of sword should have minimally belonged to a king, and that it would be
extremely suspicious if it belonged to a minor heavenly official like the one he was trying to
pretend to be. "San Lang and I have shared weapons once before, we do better with short-
range weapons. We can share my swords. Besides, if you give him your sword, you'll be left
unable to defend yourself. I bet you'll need it more."
He then unfolds the sword from its scabbard only to examine the blade for appreciation of the
weapon. Xie Meihua may not have inherited a widespread fanaticism for swords like his
father, but still, what child can't resist a good sword? And, in front of his eyes with a
confused flicker, the blade is dyed the absolute reddest red as if it were being stained with
blood.
"What's wrong with your sword?" complains Xie Meihua, looking at Nan Feng with a
curious gesture. The god in his disguise is pale as death as the sword in his hands proves to
become increasingly tinged, presenting a blade of brilliant red. "I have never seen a sword
that..."
His eyes fall on the blade of the sword, absolutely red. The eyes staring at him reflected in
the sword do not resemble his own at all.
Xie Meihua raises both eyebrows in astonishment. Perhaps his mouth is a little open as he
looks at the features on the sword, clearly not human. The eyes are more like the eyes he's
seen in scrolls talking about demons and dragons. Has that always been there? Is it a physical
version of his spiritual ghost energy or something like that? Is there any way that could be
seen even if he were a god?
The sense of euphoria he gets from finding a resemblance to something distinctly non-
human, something distinctly Hua Cheng's, fills him with a bliss that makes him shudder. His
head turns slightly.
"It's Hong-Jing," his father explains, as if that makes any sense. Then he expands his
explanation, with a little hesitation, "It recognizes non-human beings and reveals their true
faces."
"Oh," Xie Meihua re-sheathes the sword, slowly. His hands tremble a little, and though he
doesn't feel terrified as he knows he should be by the sudden realisation that his own
humanity has been hiding something more hidden than he had expected, he can feel a strange
thrill creeping through his veins that is absolutely not terror. He watches his own eyes until
they disappear from the red-tinged edge. "That actually makes a lot of sense..."
His hands tremble a little. Maybe that's why he lets the sword crash to the ground, or maybe
he takes advantage of the sudden fall to push a pulse of spiritual energy that hits the sword he
hasn't finished sheathing. The breaking blade is the least of his worries as it falls to the
ground, for San Lang is suddenly holding him as if he were about to collapse from shock. He
doesn't notice how fragile his knees feel (nor the alarmed words of Fu Yao and Nan Feng)
until San Lang guides him to sit next to his father who looks at him, utterly worried.
He is trembling. Any one of them might think he is trembling with fear, horror or fright, but
that is not the case. Xie Meihua is shaking from the sheer amount of emotions and sensations
building up against his chest and choking in his throat.
He had always been like his father. His expression, his haughty face, his elegant features. The
only thing that set him apart was his raven hair, and his eyes as deep as the abyss. There was
nothing in his youthful face that made him look different from Xie Lian, just as there was
nothing in his youthful face that could make him look like Hua Cheng.
Except that.
Somewhere in the corner of his soul, inside his spirit, he has Hua Cheng's eyes.
The euphoria that shakes him is almost so much that he has to close his eyes to process it.
They burn with an itch very close to tears. Even his head doesn't seem capable enough to
comprehend it with the exhaustion he has.
"A-Meihua?" His father is suddenly warmth and affection as he holds him close, guarding
him from falling out of the old chair. "Are you okay, do you want to tell me what you saw?"
Xie Meihua lets out a chuckle; Nan Feng doesn't look so amused as he tries to gather Hong
Jin's pieces, mentioning that it's unnatural for the sword to break from just the fall. He and Fu
Yao fight, and the sound of their argument is a white noise that Xie Meihua can quickly
ignore. The exhaustion of his body is absolutely killing his intelligence.
"Nothing bad," he says after a hesitation. He doesn't want to give too many details to the
prying ears of Fu Yao or Nan Feng. If both of them have seen Hua Cheng before, and Hua
Cheng has eyes like that he's sure it could be very obvious. "Sorry to react so drastically, ah.
I'm a dramatist. I'm just very exhausted..."
That's not a lie either. He lets himself fall against his father's shoulder. Xie Lian leaves a few
strokes against his head, but another hand is suddenly there, undoing the braid of his hair and
undoing the hairstyle with quick fingers to hold it up high, pushing the heat of the braid away
from against his neck. He leaves the hair in a very high ponytail, much higher than he's used
to doing his own ponytail, but the clear space of his hair against his neck gives him
immediate relief.
"It's okay, we can rest some more. Try to get some sleep," his father says in a gently soothing
voice, and he does. He relaxes against his shoulder, letting himself take in the sudden calm
after a long walk and the chaos of emotions erupting that he simply wants to ignore.
Xie Meihua doesn't notice the moment he falls asleep, only feeling his father's soothing
caresses against his hair, and San Lang's reassuring presence on his back holding him,
keeping him from falling.
He doesn't just feel safe with his father. In that moment, with San Lang, he feels safe too.
Chapter End Notes
Fengqing: *they hate each other, but with a lot of sexual tension*
Meihua: I shipp them
Hua Cheng, all his life: I hate this damn eye

Meihua, looking at his reflection in Hong-Jing: I HAVE DAD'S EYES
Yes, please, I have been SO THRILLED WITH THIS SCENE, it's one of my favorite
scenes in the UNIVERSE of all the ones I've written. It's brief, maybe, but I enjoyed it
too much. It's in my top 5 favorite scenes I've already written along with the Hualian
confession and Fang Xin Guoshi's drama
Thank you so much for reading sweetie! My days have been exhausting, I'm going with
my final exams, I have two semesters left and I'll finally graduate! So I'm on it as much
as I can. I will say goodbye to the life of being an unemployed, failing college student
and move on to just being unemployed and failing. The true evolutions of life, but I'll
always be there for you writing, so you can look for me on my Twitter!
I hope you enjoyed the chapter! Again, thank you so much for reading my darling! I'll
see you in the next chapter!
The poison of the desert
Chapter Summary
Caught in a sandstorm, Xie Meihua, Xie Lian and San Lang (along with company) end
up in a cave. Things happen.
Chapter Notes
HELLO HONEY, it's been a while! I apologise, I apologise. I moved, my cat had
surgery, my Roommie had a big physical fight with my ex-girlfriend (I mean, she got me
fired from my job, she definitely deserved to be sorry but... not exactly like that), look,
it's been chaos. They also rejected my thesis, damn bigoted professors. But hey, that
means I can make a second statue. Hopefully carving Hua Cheng together with Xie Lian
will bring me better luck LMAO
TOO MANY THANKS TO RED MY DARLING FOR BETA-READING THIS! Also

thanks to Tomo my little heart for illustrating this chapter! And (although it may not
seem like it because really my life HAS BEEN HELL) YES, YES, I CAN SEE ALL
THE BEAUTIFUL ART YOU DO ON TWITTER, I'M THERE HYPEING FOR
THEM, I THANK YOU SO MUCH, I'M IN TEARS
Well, I've already talked too much for today: what you came for, enjoy the chapter, I
love you!
Probably not even a sichen has passed when Xie Meihua opens his eyes. He doesn't feel any
more rested at all, but his head hurts considerably less. The heat is still a persistent nuisance
against his exhaustion. Further up in the air, Xie Meihua is sure he can feel a lingering, heavy
energy pushing through his teeth.
His father is shaking him lightly, gently even, but with a rather nervous expression.
"Time to wake up, Baobei," he says with a grimace. He also looks a little exhausted. "It's
getting a bit windy and we've spotted someone suspicious outside."
When they go outside, Xie Meihua is sure that the term "a bit of wind" was totally wrong
with the strong wind currents blowing the sand around in a cutting manner. The sand is
aggressively whipping at their faces from all directions and the wind is cruel as they move
forward, now all piled up in the sandstorm, following in Xie Lian's footsteps.
They walk with heavy steps, the sand whipping at them in handfuls, and Xie Meihua makes
sure to cover his eyes and keep his mouth shut to avoid swallowing a handful or two of sand.
He will definitely never set foot in a desert again after that. It's disgusting.
Even though they've spent quite a while walking, Xie Meihua still feels sleepy enough not to
interfere between Fu Yao and Nan Feng's passive-aggressive words. He opens and closes his
eyes every now and then confidently feeling the footsteps around him and the words
enveloping him, shifting heavily following the sound of the discussion and watching the
bodies with narrowed eyes. He feels extremely exhausted, mentally and physically. Sleep
hadn't helped at all. It probably hadn't been a good idea to demand so much use of spiritual
energy just before leaving on a mission to the middle of the desert, but now he can't complain
about it. He's already there.
They are talking about the sand, the wind and the storm, when suddenly Xie Meihua stops
hearing any kind of discussion. His ears only catch the fierce humming of the wind too
loudly against his ears. All his eyes can see is a handful of sand, and suddenly, he doesn't
even notice himself touching the ground with his feet. He screams.
Ruoye appears out of nowhere, interfering with the whirlwind dragging him away, but even
as Xie Meihua holds on tightly to his father's spirit weapon, there doesn't seem to be any
change.
The only change a moment later is that his father joins him in the tornado.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" apologises Xie Meihua, hugging him tightly, both of them lifted into
the air, swept up by the tornado. He's shaking like a leaf with his heart exaggeratedly racing
against his chest. "I didn't even realise-...!"
"It's not your fault!" his father shouts, to make himself heard above the wind, clinging tightly
to Xie Meihua. "Ruoye! Grab hold of something dependably solid!"
The something dependably solid turns out to be San Lang. Ruoye holds him between the two
of them as he too ends up being swept away by the whirlwind of sand. "Don't be scared!"
says his father, but San Lang looks as if he's simply taking an afternoon stroll, not at all
startled or frightened by being blown into the air by a sandstorm.
Xie Meihua envies him. He is terrified.
How can San Lang keep up as if nothing bad is happening? He also wants to just keep a
stony face while they're inside a bloody sand tornado! It's not fair!
"Ruoye, try again, hold on to something non-human this time!"
The non-human turns out to be Nan Feng and Fu Yao. Xie Meihua lets out an exasperated
groan.
"Is it doing it on purpose!" he complains with an anguished cry as Ruoye wraps the five of
them up, holding them tightly together in the midst of the ferocious twister. Sand is
everywhere, Xie Meihua is sure he'll have scars from the amount of lashes the pile of hair
pigtails are leaving against his face, and his eyes are burning so badly they're watering from
the sand. "Ruoye, really, do you have to take everything so literally?"
Fu Yao and Nan Feng argue. Xie Meihua focuses on actually liking those two stupid gods
moderately enough to not kick them away in the middle of the sandstorm.
When his father throws it again, this time, Ruoye holds on to something firm. And, to their
immense good fortune, they are pushed out of the ferocious storm at full speed. After
blowing the sand out of his eyes, with the wind cutting his cheeks and his hair whipping his
back, Xie Meihua is slow to realise that they are actually arriving somewhere far away from
the sandstorm, and that the place appears to be a giant boulder.
They fall inelegantly to the ground, rolling. Xie Meihua coughs up throat-scraping sand as he
hurries to crawl away, his whole body aching from the fall and his head buzzing with the
worst migraine he's ever had. The sense of danger is so much stronger now, why is his head
screwing up so badly? He's sure the vibes aren't the same as the Yu Jun Mountain forest;
they're even worse, and the nausea drags him into trying to close his eyes, covering his head
as he strains to take in puffs of air without sand.
"A-Meihua!" his father's voice snaps him out of his little trance. His head throbs and he can
barely focus his eyesight as he is helped to his feet, practically dragged into a dark hole in the
stone. A cave. A rather crudely carved, but stable cave, where they quickly take shelter from
the scourge of wind and sand.
Xie Meihua drops against the wall, taking sharp inhalations of air, seeking to steady himself a
little.
"There's fucking shitty energy here," he complains, almost sobbing, rubbing both sides of his
temples. "It's worse than Yu Jun Mountain, I'm feeling so sick."
The energy, beyond being powerful, feels aggressive. Now that Xie Meihua can locate that it
actually manifests in an aggressive way, he also notices it as a dangerous and chaotic thing. It
is closer to the yan energy of Feng Xin that he had felt only the day before, but much more...
resentful. It's like the dark, dense energy of a God charged with resentment.
The fact that his father didn't correct his language meant that it was probably something
much more serious.
Xie Meihua tries to stand up, quickly assisted by San Lang; San Lang forces Xie Meihua's
arms around his neck, carrying him in his arms as if he weighed absolutely nothing as they
slowly advance into the dark cave. Of the four adults shaking out clothes and spitting sand,
San Lang looks the most stable. He still looks like he's just been strolling along the beach.
"Is Didi okay?" asks San Lang in a soft voice. Xie Meihua nods, rolling his eyes with the last
traces of mockery left in his body. He doesn't even have the energy to get out of San Lang's
arms, and in fact, he's comfortable enough that he doesn't want to get out of there.
"Well, I got caught in a tornado and swallowed my weight in sand. Then I fell from a great
height and rolled who knows how far over sand and stone. Of course I'm fine," replies Xie
Meihua with sarcasm in every word. San Lang laughs a little before carefully setting him
down on the ground near a rock and, before Xie Meihua registers from where, San Lang
holds out a small canteen.
"Didi needs to hydrate a little," he says warmly. He's drinking the cool water when Xie Lian
approaches them, his expression utterly grateful when he sees San Lang being so careful with
Xie Meihua. He barely feels stable enough to stand on his legs, so being carried, though it
should have been embarrassing, is a very considerable relief.
His father quickly reaches over and tries to shake out his clothes, trying to get most of the
sand out of them. Xie Meihua holds out the canteen, and after a glance with San Lang, Xie
Lian accepts it.
"I feel awful," he confesses, a little quietly. He feels his lower lip tremble; he doesn't know
whether his eyes burn from the wind and sand, or from tears. "I didn't think it would be this
bad."
"Your Highness, it's the middle of the desert, where hundreds had been recorded missing" Fu
Yao lists a little far away from them, but still close enough to hear their complaints. "What
did you expect?"
"I don't know," he complains again. He only knows that he wasn't planning to let his father go
anywhere on his own, much less a place as dangerous as Banyue Pass seemed to be. And
even if it now feels more like a burden than a help, he's relieved to see his father well. "I
just..."
"It's okay, Didi doesn't have to explain," San Lang's voice is a sympathetic balm. "Let's stay
here and wait for the storm to pass. Didi needs to rest."
Xie Lian nods. He takes a seat on the overhanging rock and, beside him, San Lang takes a
seat on the ground practically at his feet. Xie Meihua settles in between them, feeling a
strange comfort as he relaxes between his father and San Lang. His father's hand caresses his
head warmly as San Lang's presence is there, soothing, a firm hand against his back holding
him from collapsing under the force of his own exhaustion.
Despite the near catastrophic circumstances, Xie Meihua has not felt so protected in a long
time.
They remain silent for quite some time until Xie Lian asks, "San Lang, the head priest of
Banyue, are they a man or a woman?"
"Haven't I mentioned it yet? A woman," replies San Lang. Xie Meihua has no idea really
where the question is going, but his father says just a moment of silence later:
"When we were resting at the small abandoned inn, weren't there two women walking
nearby? They were definitely not mortal. Also, the woman in white looked a bit suspicious.
She looked straight at us."
Fu Yao grumbles in front of them, "It was hard to distinguish whether they were male or
female because of the amount of robes they had. Both of them were also much taller than that
of average women. Do you really trust your eyesight?"
Xie Meihua lets out a groan that could have been threatening at the brusque tone of the
disguised god. Fu Yao doesn't back down.
"I saw it clearly," his father replies with certainty. "I've been thinking about that. Could she
have been the head priestess of Banyue?"
"It is possible," says Nan Feng, much more civilised than Fu Yao. "But there was a person
dressed in black beside her. Who would she be?"
"Is there a possibility that they are the two demonic cultivators, and that one is Head Priest
Fang Xin?" asks Fu Yao. It is a valid question, but his father's immediate response makes Xie
Meihua raise his head to look at him, stunned by the firmness of his words:
"Not at all. I think they're only called Two Demonic Cultivators because even numbers are
easier to remember," says his father. Xie Meihua looks at him with a raised eyebrow, but
continues:
"Yes, like the Four Calamities. There's one that doesn't even get to be a Devastation and it's
only on the list to complete the number," says Xie Meihua. His voice sounds raspy through
the sand, and perhaps the hoarseness is what makes San Lang laugh a little louder. Xie
Meihua watches him, feeling insulted.
"It's nothing, it's nothing," San Lang says quickly, calming his laughter. "What Didi said is
entirely reasonable. After all, one of the Four Calamities is only there to turn the count into
an even number."
A tiny smile spreads across Xie Meihua's face. He lets himself relax again.
"They probably have nothing to do with each other," his father continues softly. "Priest Fang
Xin was the Royal Head Priest of the Yong’an Kingdom. There is an interval of at least a
hundred years between his appearance and the arrival of the Head Priest of Banyue."
Xie Meihua begins to doze off a little. He hears them talking about what used to be the
Banyue Kingdom before, and is almost asleep when suddenly San Lang says, "Gege, there is
something written on the rock where you are sitting."
Xie Meihua forces himself to move next to Xie Lian. His father wipes the stone and, before
he can say anything, Xie Meihua summons a palm of light in his hand. His father looks on
proudly.
Xie Meihua's headache worsens with the use of his spiritual energy. It was probably still quite
drained after the afternoon of using it relentlessly to answer his prayers. He doesn't even
grimace about it.
"What is written there?" asks Nan Feng, approaching.

"Banyue Kingdom scripture," replies San Lang, with such a mocking tone about Nan Feng's
ignorance that even Xie Meihua smiles. That was obvious, considering where they were.
"I'm afraid Nan Feng was asking about the meaning behind the words. Allow me..."
Fu Yao approaches the stone, curious when he notices that Xie Lian actually seems to be
translating the symbols. "Can you read Banyue's language?"
His father scratches his cheek somewhat uncomfortable with suddenly being exposed. Xie
Meihua isn't surprised. He'd be more surprised if he couldn't read it.
"Ah, yes," he says. His father looks more than a little uncomfortable before admitting,
"Before the demonic cultivator Banyue appeared, I picked up trash in the Banyue realm."
"How many other places did you pick up trash in?"
His father doesn't answer. He bends over the stone, wiping the carved strokes with his
fingers. Xie Meihua moves the light closer, letting his father analyse the letters until he says,
"General."
"What?" Nan Feng and Fu Yao respond at the same time. Xie Meihua directs a raised
eyebrow at them, clearly scolding them for the slip. However, his father responds a moment
later.
"The word for ‘Genera’l" says his father. His countenance is quite serious and somewhat dark
as he tries to decipher the words. "There is another character written, however, I am not sure
what it means."
Xie Meihua moves the light closer, startled when two glowing eyes are illuminated behind
the stone.
The person screams as he is discovered. Nan Feng approaches, two flaming palms of light in
his hands, floating and growing in size until they illuminate the entire interior of the cave.
Now, leaning over the stone, Xie Meihua only had to raise his head to see the person hidden
in the darkness and, a little further towards the end, a group of people stacked together in a
corner of the cave.
"Who are you?" shouts Nan Feng. Xie Meihua lets out a groan as the light makes his eyes
hurt a little, Nan Feng's shout being an impatient annoyance against his aching head. His
father covers his ears as well.
"We are a group of common merchants passing through the area," an old man explains after a
moment. He looks terrified. "The sandstorm was too strong and we couldn't go on, so we
took shelter here."
"If you are merchants just passing by, why did you act so sneakily by hiding here?" asks Nan
Feng. Xie Meihua gives him a hostile look.
"They're a group of merchants and we just happened to drop in unexpectedly, what did you
want, for them to show up and expose themselves to us being thieves?" he complains. His
voice still sounds rather hoarse through the sand and Nan Feng's gaze settles on him,
somewhat overwhelmed. Even if he is looking at him, Xie Meihua gets the feeling that he is
not really seeing him, as if he is seeing right through him. "Would you be foolish enough to
do that? They were protecting their lives."
"Gongzi is right!" says one of the young men in the caravan quickly. Xie Meihua sighs as
Nan Feng's shoulders are relieved of their tension, if only a little. "We were sheltered until
you came in talking about priests and the kingdom of Banyue. Who would have known your
intentions, how could we have put ourselves at such risk?"
"A misunderstanding can happen to anyone, there's no need to be so nervous," his father
interjects, trying to sound peaceful and gentle. That's definitely not a difficult thing, he is Xie
Lian after all. "I own a Temple of His Midnight Highness, and the people who accompany me
are... helpers and disciples of this temple. We study mystic arts. You are common merchants,
we are common Taoists. We mean no harm. We just wanted shelter from the wind and ended
up in the same cave. That's all."
Xie Meihua sighs a little relieved at the calmness of the words, just before San Lang lets out
a small laugh and says, "But how? From what I see, these merchants can't be ordinary people.
They're just being modest."
San Lang doesn't even look intimidated by the amount of attention he receives after speaking.
Even Xie Meihua looks at him curiously until he explains himself.
"Don't at least half of the travellers disappear when they pass through Banyue Pass? Despite
being aware of this rumour, they still dare to pass through here. That can be considered a
brave thing to do. How can that be part of a common merchant?"
"Ah, young man, you are wrong! Rumours tend to be exaggerated" replies the old man
quickly. "There have been many merchants who passed through here in peace. It's just a
matter of finding the right guide to lead a path so as not to accidentally stray into the territory
of the ancient Kingdom of Banyue. Therefore, this time, we specifically found this good
guide to lead us."
"That's right! It's all up to the leader," continues the caravan boy. "We got here thanks to A-
Zhao. He helped us avoid quicksand. Besides, he had seen the wind pick up earlier and
immediately took us to find shelter. Otherwise, we could have been buried alive by the whole
sandstorm."
Xie Meihua watches the guide carefully. A-Zhao is a boy in his twenties, with a sincere,
honest, and handsome face. He is also the only omega visible in the crowd of betas and
alphas. He seems to be a rather quiet and slow-talking young man, and does not react to
praise, only speaking in a taciturn tone, saying, "This is nothing, it's part of my
responsibilities. I hope that when the wind dies down, everyone's camels and goods will be
unharmed."
"They'll be fine, they'll be fine!"

Xie Lian turns slightly away from Xie Meihua to whisper things towards Nan Feng and Fu
Yao. Xie Meihua catches single words. Helping the merchants is a present phrase, and Xie
Meihua sighs, realizing that his father would definitely care about the merchants first and
then finding out what was going on in the Ancient Banyue Kingdom.
Xie Meihua settles down next to the stone, finishing cleaning the characters carved into the
stone. His father thanks him with a smile as he settles down beside him, ready to try to
continue deciphering the characters, now in much more light.
It is San Lang who says, "General's Tomb."
Xie Lian and Xie Meihua look at San Lang, puzzled.
"San Lang, do you also understand the ancient language of Banyue?" his father asks. San
Lang grimaces, chuckling.
"Not much. It was just a hobby, so I only know a few words," he says softly.
Xie Meihua watches as his father makes a contemplative gesture. It's strange for someone
other than him to respond with a broad evasion.
"That's really good. Maybe the few words you know are the ones I don't. Come! Let's
translate this together."
Xie Meihua shines light on them with palms of light that get his head burning with pain and
he has to squint to avoid the worst of the growing migraine. Nan Feng and Fu Yao approach
them, the lights around the glowing cave leaving few shadows to hide in. Finally, San Lang
and his father end up telling the story of the general behind the tomb; a general who was not
a general but a lieutenant who hailed from the central plains, commemorated and
remembered despite being constantly demoted in military rank for being a man unfit for his
duties in the military, seeking to prevent Banyue soldiers from killing innocent people of his
own country, and seeking to prevent his own soldiers under his command from killing
innocents of the realm. And every time he tried to act to prevent innocent deaths, he was
demoted.
Xie Meihua stares at his father's face as he and San Lang tell the story. He sighs when they
finish, the lingering headache growing more and more intense, bursting into sharp annoyance
when the merchants begin to laugh at the officer's death.
San Lang looks annoyed too.
"Is that so funny?"
"It's actually quite tragic," says Xie Meihua, clicking his tongue. He doesn't need to verbalise
his irritation, totally graphic on his face, as he says, "What lack of empathy is it to laugh at
someone's death like that?"
San Lang smiles warmly and sympathetically at him before saying, "At the end of the plaque,
however, is the inscription that assures you that by kneeling three times you can turn an
inauspicious beginning into a good blessing."
Hearing this, the merchants begin to approach, surrounding the stone and kneeling before it.
Xie Lian approaches them both, curious: "Ah? Is that really written? How wonderful.”
"I made it up," San Lang whispers. There is a mischievous glint in his eyes and Xie Meihua
chuckles at his father's perplexed expression at the acceptance of the lie. "Since they made
fun of him, they might as well pay tribute to him, right?"
Xie Lian smiles, rather amused and settling in beside San Lang, whispering a, "Do you need
to be so cheeky?"
San Lang playfully sticks his tongue out at him. Xie Meihua can't help but smile as they both
laugh.
Suddenly, someone shouts, "What is this?"
The shout echoes loudly in the cave, a vibrant burst of sound. Xie Meihua winces, closing his
eyes tightly, as his father is the one who takes matters into his own hands again.
"What's wrong?" he asks, clearly alarmed. The men kneeling in front of the tombstone stand
up, doddering and upset, running away as they shout loudly:
"Snake!"
Nan Feng and Fu Yao move their illuminated hands towards the direction indicated by the
merchants. There, slithering on the sandy ground, the glow of the divine light makes its
scales glisten as the snake crawls, moving ever closer to both the tombstone and the
merchants.
"How could there be snakes here?"
"Why isn't it making noise, I have no idea where it came from!"
The snake rises in an aggressive manner, ready to strike. Xie Meihua is seriously considering
how dangerous it would be to his headache to release the strange flashes of spiritual energy
again to finish off the snake before it hurts anyone – he's fully aware that those fangs
definitely must have poison in them – when San Lang strides forward, catching the snake
almost casually.
Xie Meihua restrains himself from gaping open-mouthed as San Lang holds the snake with a
fierce, but nonchalant grip, examining it carefully, "Aren't snakes common in the desert?"
Xie Meihua takes a couple of steps forward for a closer look, followed by his father. The
snake is dark, shiny-scaled, with a dull reddish colour that emulates the colour of exposed
internal organs. It is unpleasant and gives him a shiver, but more worrying is not its
intimidating appearance, but its tail.
Xie Lian notices it before he can decipher what it is: "Watch out for its tail!"
As if summoned by alert, the tail twitches with a fierce movement. A sharp red thorn twitches
from between its tail, but San Lang is undeterred, holding it in his hands. He holds the stinger
calmly, as if it were a strangely curious thing to see.
"This tail is quite amusing," San Lang comments, totally unconcerned. His father approaches
San Lang, sighing.
"It's a good thing it didn't bite you. It's a scorpion snake, as you'd expect from the territory."
"Scorpion snake?" asks Xie Meihua. The very idea of a poisonous snake is terrifying in itself,
but a double venom? The venom of a snake and that of a scorpion? His head throbbed as his
stomach twisted with a catastrophic thought. Of course they were going to find something
like that. Even his own good fortune can't help when fate pacts bad things along the way.
"It's a unique and highly venomous animal unique to the Banyue Kingdom," his father
explains in a warm voice, looking straight at him. Xie Meihua notices the horror on the faces
of Nan Feng and Fu Yao, stunned by the creature and the nonchalant way San Lang holds it.
"They are quite rare. I've never seen one before, but I've heard of them. They have the body
of a snake and the tails of a scorpion, and the venom is more toxic than both creatures
combined. Regardless of whether the venom is applied by their fangs or their tails, it will
be..."
His father pauses his explanation looking at San Lang sternly. Xie Meihua can't get the panic
to leave his expression, much less when he sees that San Lang is actually tormenting the
dangerous snake as if it were nothing more than a child's toy. He stretches its tail, examines
its scales, but much more, he crushes its sting, stretches and crushes it, twisting it like a
towel. If Xie Meihua has an expression of horror and fear, Xie Lian only has an expression of
stern concern as he says, "San Lang, stop playing with that. It's too dangerous."
"All right, Gege!" replies San Lang cheerfully. If it weren't for holding a poisonous snake in
his hands, Xie Meihua would have thought he was strutting his stuff. He looks cheerful.
"There's no need for Gege to worry. These scorpion snakes are the symbol of the head
priestess of Banyue. Opportunities like these are rare, so of course I need to examine it
closely."
His father gives a small gasp. "The symbol of the head priestess of Banyue?" he asks, utterly
grim.
San Lang smiles.
"That's right, that's right." He explains with renewed glee. He has a wide grin as he continues
to fiddle with the snake in his hands. "The head priestess of Banyue could control these
snakes, then, the people of the Kingdom believed her power was limitless. She was
worshipped as a high priestess just because of this."
Beside him, his father frowns slightly. Xie Meihua does not understand his train of thought.
There are so many things he doesn't know, and so many things he fears in that fierce,
unknown terrain, that he's not sure if the tears stinging his throat are from headache or
frustration.
His father suddenly looks alert.
"We must all get out of here!" he says, his voice firm. "I'm afraid there isn't just a single
scorpion snake here..."
But he can't even finish his sentence before a scream is heard. Another scream, another fierce
rattling in the cave that makes Xie Meihua's head burn.
The yan energy is invasive and cruel in a way that makes him nauseous.
"Snakes!"
"Too many snakes!"
"There are too many!"
They emerge from the darkness. Seven or eight snakes crawl silently, emerging abruptly from
the shadows making their presence known among the small crowd, in silent patience. Xie
Meihua feels like he could burst into tears of terror; his heart beats too hard, so hard that he
can physically feel it beating against his throat, and his head is spinning so painfully that it is
hard to focus his eyesight.
However, he can understand one thing when his eyes meet his father's, there is some kind of
trap here. Something particular, something far more dangerous than just disappearances. If
the head priestess of Banyue is supposed to control the snakes, is it normal for them to act by
surrounding and harassing a group of people? Is it normal for them not to attack, but to wait
patiently, as if waiting for orders?
He cannot formulate any doubts. His father immediately tugs on his arm, pulling him closer
to them both, shouting for the other merchants, "Everybody out!"
No one complains. With quick steps, rapid murmurs that Xie Meihua refuses to hear, they
hurry through the cave structure jostling each other, fleeing from the snakes. Xie Meihua puts
out the lights in his hands trying to summon some kind of fire to throw at the snakes, but the
sparks that his currently weak energy produces are of little use. They are enveloped in
darkness as Fu Yao and Nan Feng rush to the exit as well, they too being able to throw decent
fireballs at the snakes blocking the way to clear a path for them.
Xie Meihua's head spins.
"Baobei, hold on to me," his father instructs. Xie Meihua clings to his body, trying not to let
his knees tremble as he hurries his steps. The entrance shaft of the cave is illuminated, but not
brightly enough for Xie Meihua to suddenly feel the hollow of a stone removed from under
his feet, giving way to a fortuitous stumble and taking his father to the ground with him.
A sharp pain burns in his ankle, almost strong enough to make him scream. He locks the
scream in with clenched teeth as he scrambles to his feet, stepping firmly despite the pain that
stains his eyes with tears.
"Gege!" San Lang helps his father to his feet, also helping him without a word. Xie Meihua
knows that even if San Lang belatedly worried about pulling him to his feet and pulling him
to the cave opening, his primary concern is his father, and that gives him a strange peace. The
realisation that, regardless of whether anything happens to him, San Lang will look after his
father fills him with warmth and fulfilment. With that feeling emboldening him, Xie Meihua
hurries his steps to run into the light, away from the cave and away from the snakes, his ankle
burning with every step.
It shouldn't hurt that much. It's not the first sprained ankle he's had in his life, and he knows it
won't be the last. But it still hurts just as much, if not more, when he slumps against the stone
outside the cave, sucking in deep breaths of air. His entire leg feels throbbing.
"I think I twisted my ankle," he complains in a breathy whisper. San Lang and his father turn
to him, worried, but the worry dies the moment one of the merchants cries out in pain.
His father hesitates. Xie Meihua shakes his head. I'm fine, go with them, he wants to tell him,
even if he isn't, even if he needs his father's comfort. But his father needs to help, and Xie
Meihua is not going to stop that.
"Fu Yao," Xie Lian asks anyway, and Fu Yao is approaching there taking his place to hold
him before his father walks away with an apologetic look. Xie Meihua nods, the pain burning
up to his knee. It's not the first sprained ankle he's had, even if it's unexpectedly painful, so
his father knows he can handle it on his own and trusts that Xie Meihua can deal with the
pain without feeling bad about it. But why does it hurt so much?
His father immediately goes to the injured man. Xie Meihua can hear them talking about the
snake venom. Four hours. Four hours extended to twenty-four with medicine, but not long
enough.
"It's not broken," he says, lifting his leg. He holds on poorly to the stone wall and Fu Yao.
San Lang's hands on him waver, as if he wants to let go and go after his father.
Xie Meihua understands. They are still in danger. He still wants to protect his father. He
would too.
Despite his obvious priorities San Lang helps him, holding him carefully so that he can lift
the leg wrapped with his leather boot. He removes it, and visibly, apart from reddened skin
and a huge swelling visible under the fabric of the trousers, there's not too much to see, "But
it hurts. Maybe it's a sprain."
San Lang puts his hand on his ankle, feeling the swelling. Xie Meihua grits his teeth,
restraining himself from screaming.
"Your Highness has been behaving like a child the whole trip," Fu Yao scolds him. There is a
slightly annoyed pout on his mouth, as if seeing Xie Meihua being capricious and childish is
a kind of sight he wants to keep away from himself. Xie Meihua narrows his eyes in
annoyance.
"Of course I'm behaving like a child," he grumbles, openly annoyed at the accusation. "I am a
child. I'm not even seventeen. How were you behaving when you were sixteen?"
Fu Yao purses his lips into a thin line. He lifts his chin proudly as Xie Meihua suddenly feels
a cold sensation against his leg. The cold is utterly welcome. The pain in his ankle numbs so
much that he doesn't even feel it and when he looks at San Lang with curious eyes, there is a
quick look of concern there.
San Lang's spiritual energy is powerful, even for that of a wrath-grade ghost, or higher. Xie
Meihua doesn't feel ready to wrap his mind around the fact that San Lang is some kind of
Devastation-level ghost (or that apparently Devastation-level ghosts seem destined to orbit
his father; Hua Cheng, the Green Ghost, and now San Lang...). San Lang's spiritual energy
feels much more fierce than Xuan Ji's, and at the same time, much less dangerous around
him. However, at that precise moment, that energy pierces through the pain in his leg,
numbing it, and Xie Meihua breathes a sigh of relief. His body is quickly filled with so much
yin energy that even the dryness in his throat is soothed.
His head suddenly feels much better, much clearer and much calmer. There is no more pain
than a dull ache on his temples, the shadow of oppressive pain upon him. The energies
around him no longer feel so harrowingly dense, imprisoning his senses within a cage of
pain.
There is a strange sense of deja vu that Xie Meihua has to swallow with an alert gaze on San
Lang. However, he just squeezes the swelling of his ankle a little over the cloth, making it
still hurt.
"Didi has taken a nasty fall," he says slowly. Fu Yao seems to remember that he was called to
examine him, but when Xie Meihua extends his ankle a little towards him, lifting his trousers
so that he can see the reddened swelling, they hear vague explanations and random
comments.
Apparently there is a cure for the wounded old man's bite. Something called Shanyue Fern,
something that can actually defeat the poison. Xie Meihua lets out a deep breath of air he
didn't know he was holding, his head much clearer to think and understand the same thing as
his father, apparently by the look he gives him.
They are walking into a trap.
"Fu Yao," he says slowly. "How do you make a distance shortening array?"
"It's not difficult to do, but even if we had time to teach you, Your Highness, our spiritual
energies are blocked," Nan Feng says approaching them. He looks so fiercely at the way Xie
Meihua clings to Fu Yao that Xie Meihua clings tighter as he lowers his leg, trying to gauge
the pain as he steps on.
Well, it still hurts. The pain isn't quite as wrenching, though.
"Blocked?" asks Fu Yao. His gesture is dismissive. "Couldn't it be that you simply spent too
much?"
"As if I don't know how to regulate what energy I use or not."
"You don't know how to control yourself! How could you control something as simple as
that?"
"Enough both of you," Xie Lian immediately intervenes. Xie Meihua breaks free from Fu
Yao, only to take a few hesitant steps, feeling like a new-born fawn. Stepping truly hurts, but
not as badly as moments before. "The evil aura here is blocking your spiritual energies. It's no
one's fault here."
Xie Meihua takes several hesitant steps towards his father, followed closely by San Lang. His
chest swells with pride before he says, "Just because of that, I can do the shortening array."
There is understanding in Xie Lian's eyes. If they put on the scale, the evil energy was yin
energy after all. It makes sense that Xie Meihua, suddenly charged with it, could use it.
And, as if to prove his point, he extends his palm towards his father. Now, with the suddenly
enormous amount of yin energy San Lang poured into him, the flames truly take shape
between his fingers. The sooner they reach Banyue and the sooner they get to the bottom of
the situation, Xie Meihua is sure to be better. It doesn't matter if he spends his borrowed
energy on shortening the journey; the sooner they finish, the sooner they will return home.
"That's good," agrees his father. Xie Meihua extinguishes the flame in his hand, feeling
satisfied with himself for once. He has been able to prove that he can do something, and
something that will help them all. Is that good enough? He thinks it could be even better.
"Nan Feng, could you...?"
Then, his father stops. An exhalation later and the movements happen so fast that he is slow
to comprehend them. But they do happen.
His father moves forward and moves as swiftly as a Martial God should, interposing himself
at full speed at the snake that had launched itself ferociously at San Lang.
Xie Lian holds the snake with restrained strength; of course Xie Meihua knows that his father
contains his strength at that moment, because he has seen him split rocks in his chest, but
abruptly the next move is something neither he nor San Lang can foresee, or stop.
After all, it happens too fast.
Too quickly, the snake's tail twists, and its blood-red stinger sinks against the back of his
father's hand.
Chapter End Notes
Mu Qing: Your Highness has been behaving like a crybaby all day
Xie Meihua: I'm a crybaby and a spoilt child, what do you expect? To have some face?
Definitely not
Also:
Mu Qing (shouting at Feng Xin): You don't know how to control yourself!
Xie Meihua: Wait, you're speaking from experience, right? Am I interrupting
something? Should I leave?
And THAT'S THE END OF THE CHAPTER! I'd apologise for the cliffhanger, but in
reality I know that almost everyone would suspect that I'd know that. Poor Xie Lian, he
can never escape his bad luck.
I definitely missed my baby Meihua a lot, and I definitely missed sharing it with you my
beloved guys a lot. I sincerely hope you liked the chapter! I repeat the: I'll try to update
sunday night because, you know, I'd really like to help you start the week with
something entertaining to read. I hope to be able to update every sunday, if life doesn't
become my enemy again!
As always: you can find me on Twitter where I really try to be all the time -someone
very nice in the comments asked about one of my other social networks! I also have
Tumblr, but I don't really know how to use it.... Anyway I promise to drop by there a bit
more too!
The BEAUTIFUL illustration for today's chapter was made by my sweetheart Tomo!
You can find him and more of his art (and future collaborations we do) on his Instagram
and Twitter!
Really THANK YOU to all of you for every kudo, reading, comment, and most of all
the enormous patience you've had with me! My eternal love is with you! You make my
whole life worth it!
See you in the next chapter, my darling!
The Banyue Kingdom
Chapter Summary
After Xie Lian is bitten, Xie Meihua rushes his travel to the Banyue Kingdom in search
of the cure. And, inevitably, they part.
Chapter Notes
Hello my sweetheart! Ah... It's been a century, hasn't it? Has been my Buried-Alive-for-
100-Years-Era, but I promise I'm out now. I have to enlist in a war and adopt two
children, but I think I've got a couple quiet decades ahead of me
I can't stop thanking ALL the IMMENSE LOVE I've been receiving from you!!! I love
and appreciate every comment, every little detail, every beautiful thing you've been
doing. It means SO MUCH to me!! More in these days where I've been suffering a lot,
but I'm not going to bore you with my life, but to thank you again for keeping you here.
Thank you honey
Nice thanks to Red for being my beta reader and of course, to all of you for still here! I
hope you enjoy today's chapter a lot, love you!!
After San Lang tightens Ruoye firmly around his father's wrist, Xie Meihua brings the fire
closer in his palm with tense movements. There is a persistent ringing in his ears, but he is
not sure if it is his head or the hostile wind around him. San Lang steals a dagger from a
merchant with a deft movement and runs it through the fire, disinfecting the tip of the knife,
before plunging it firmly into the wound.
Huge, swollen, and purple, the wound looks worse than he has ever seen on his father's skin.
Xie Meihua grits his teeth. He knows San Lang is controlling his scent, but he doesn't feel
able to do so; pheromones charged with anger and pain push even Fu Yao back several paces,
stepping behind Nan Feng almost instinctively.
San Lang opens the cross wound, letting it bleed. Before he bends over the wound, his father
tries to stop him,be"There is no need. The poison of the scorpion tail snake is too toxic, so it
is useless even if you absorb it. You should be careful, lest you poison yourself..."
But San Lang ignores him. The expression on his face is firm, and he bends down to suck the
contaminated blood away from Xie Lian's body. He spits it out onto the sand.
Xie Meihua clenches his jaw. Still, a little away from them, Fu Yao dares to speak.
"How can you be stung like that? Your luck is an absurd thing. It's possible it wasn't even
going to bite you at all. Why would you grab it? You just cause more trouble."
Xie Meihua turns to Fu Yao with the worst of growls from between his teeth. Fu Yao takes a
step back, and even a couple of the merchant’s step aside as the growl still rumbles between
his teeth. He has no logical thoughts to speak of. All his instincts scream and push
desperately against his heartbeat. He failed. He failed. He failed his father. He was supposed
to protect him. He failed him.
His father puts his hand on his arm, calming him.
"A-Meihua," he murmurs. There is not a hint of pain in his voice. "Don't worry. It's not like it
hurts, and I'm not going to die from it."
"It really doesn't hurt?" asks Fu Yao. Xie Meihua doesn't feel enough in his senses to
verbalize anything more than a grunt or a pained gasp. All he is in those moments is pure
instinct; he is furious, exhausted, emotionally worn out. He wants to take his father away. He
doesn't care at all about those merchants, those people, he doesn't care about anything but
wanting to protect his father.
But he can't do it. He never has been able to.
"Not anymore." his father replies, and Xie Meihua can't even guess if he's lying.
Xie Meihua watches the snake on the ground, writhing. his heartbeat burns and his energy
churns, but before he can even do anything, the snake explodes in a burst of blood and gore.
When Xie Meihua looks up slightly, he sees San Lang's cruel gaze on what the snake was
once.
Xie Meihua turns to Nan Feng.
"Shortening matrix," he says. He struggles with the words; his voice sounds low and stern,
still mixed with the growl from deep in his chest, unable to say more. He doesn't know if he
will keep his self-control any longer. Anguish burns over his throat and his head buzzes and
throbs with emotions he doesn't feel able to process. "Explain to me how."
Nan Feng doubts neither his abilities, nor that he can do so in his state, which is probably for
the best. He pushes him aside and a few precise instructions later, Xie Meihua pours his
newfound spiritual energies into tracing the shortening patterns bound for the Banyue
Kingdom. A little beyond them, his father and the merchants talk about their plans. Split up,
don't take too many people, don't do too much. The merchants should stay behind to look
after the stricken old man.
Fu Yao is left in charge of the remaining merchants. His father asks A-Zhao to guide them
through the Banyue Kingdom, and when the distance shortening array is ready, Xie Meihua
goes to find his father to position him directly at the centre.
"A-Meihua," his father hums softly, "you don't have to worry so much about me."
"How could I not?" his words still come strangled out of his throat. He doesn't recognise his
own voice; it could be either a harsh growl or the plaintive sound of a puppy. "You've been
poisoned."
"It isn’t the first time," says his father, even nonchalantly. Xie Meihua grits his teeth so hard
that his face hurts.
"It's not fair," he says. His bitter scent wafts up, and even his father grimaces at the smell, but
neither can do anything about it.
San Lang positions himself firmly to one side of Xie Lian in the distance shortening array. A-
Zhao and Nan Feng are also situated inside the circle. Xie Meihua bids farewell to Fu Yao
with a firm gaze before entering and pushing the last symbol with all the spiritual energy he
can muster.
The journey is dizzying, fast, surrounded by light for an instant. Then the sand surrounds
them, the sunset painting the skies orange, stretching the desert in all directions, and on the
horizon the structures of the abandoned Banyue Kingdom emerge only a short walk away.
Xie Meihua staggers after a step, the dizziness from the sudden expenditure of spiritual
energy and the pain in his ankle combining. San Lang holds his arm tighter than instinctively
necessary to support him, but Xie Meihua, tense as a bow on the verge of firing, breaks free
by letting out a tense grunt. San Lang watches him with wide eyes, perplexed, as if he of all
people had not expected such a reaction from Xie Meihua.
A blink later, his countenance is so hostile that Xie Meihua wouldn't be surprised if his own
head exploded like the snake.
"That's enough," reprimands Xie Lian. He puts his hand on his back, guiding him a few steps
further ahead. "Meihua, San Lang is not to blame."
Blame. Guilt. His eyes burn as he swallows the fierce knot of tears building up in his throat.
Of course he is! They're both to blame! Isn't San Lang supposed to have promised to protect
him? Isn't he himself supposed to have promised to look after his father?! They're both
equally to blame!
"But-...!" and his complaint is interrupted by his father's stern gaze.
"No," he cuts off his words again. His voice is low and serious as he says, "San Lang is
important to me. You are important to me. If the snake had gotten to either of you two, I
would have wished to die. Don't blame San Lang because I saved him from being bitten. If
you want to blame someone, blame me for not being more careful, or don't blame anyone at
all."
Xie Meihua grits his teeth. His eyes burn with held back tears, but he nods, feeling broken
inside.
"And apologize. It's rude to growl at people."
A-Zhao and Nan Feng have advanced a few steps. San Lang, hesitantly, barely a couple just
to give them privacy away from the scorched sand where the shortening array had left them.
Xie Meihua shoots him an admittedly desperate look in his own agony before resuming his
steps towards him, towards them, and letting out a brief, "I'm sorry."
San Lang hums a nod. There is coldness on his face, even so. An unpleasant expression that
Xie Meihua knows all too well, because even if he can't smell the alpha's emotions, he knows
what he's feeling because the same emotions crawl up and down his own skin: guilt.
He doesn't need Xie Meihua to blame him too, because he himself seems to feel guilty
enough on his own.
The kingdom of Banyue rises in rubble behind the remains of, what was once, a massive
wall. Xie Meihua is unsurprised as he moves forward in silence, the pressure of spiritual
energy thick on his senses and, even so, unable to burn stronger than his own guilt and self-
loathing.
He should have protected his father. He should have done better.
"Everyone here be careful," warns A-Zhao as soon as they pass through the remains of the
walls, the city gates giving them a baleful welcome. "Don't wander."
"This is the Kingdom of Banyue?" asks Nan Feng in a disbelieving tone. "How can it be so
small? It's not even comparable to a city."
"Like a small desert kingdom, the bigger the oasis, the bigger the kingdom," replies his father
with a kind tone. Xie Meihua is aware of this fact from his father's tutoring, but it seems that
the south does not have enough sand for cities to be dependent on the stability of an oasis to
subsist. "Even during its highest period, the kingdom of Banyue consisted of only about ten
thousand people, really only that big. Although, it was very nice when there were a lot of
people around, and it was even very lively."
"The defeat of this kingdom was probably a matter that only took a couple of days," says Nan
Feng after judiciously examining the area in which they are advancing.
"It's hard to say," replies his father. Xie Lian has a thoughtful expression on his face. "Nan
Feng, you shouldn't underestimate the people of Banyue. Although their population was only
about ten thousand people, there were always at least four thousand people in their army all
year round. Many more strong men than women. Apart from the old, the sick, not counting
the farmers, practically every man in the kingdom joined the army. Moreover, all Banyue
soldiers were at least nine feet tall. Their personalities were also brave, fierce and aggressive.
While holding a wolf-toothed club, they still dared to attack even with a sword stuck in their
chest. Banyue soldiers were extremely difficult to fight."
Xie Lian reports everything in an educational, clear and gentle tone. There is no presumption
or arrogance in his words, and only a faint hint of admiration at the strength and vitality that
the warriors of the fallen kingdom of Banyue could demonstrate.
A-Zhao is the one who responds, a little surprised. He looks at his father before saying, "This
young lord seems to know a lot."
His father's smile is an answer in itself.
Nan Feng takes away the opportunity for his father to respond.
"What is that wall?"
In the distance, increasingly visible and obvious, is a huge yellowish earthen structure. More
specifically, it looks like four giant walls that sought to surround, or imprison, something just
inside it. No roof, no doors, no windows, just four high walls. The most striking thing is,
attached to the top of the walls, a pole with something tied to it. It is so battered that it is not
clear whether it is a flag or something else fluttering in the wind.
Xie Meihua feels a shiver run through him.
"That's the Sinner's Pit," his father replies simply.
"Sinner's Pit?" asks Xie Meihua. The name, by itself, doesn't say much.
His father lets out a rather loud sigh before saying, "It's... sort of like a prison, if you can
think of it like that. It's a place specifically for imprisoning criminals."
Xie Meihua lets out a gasp. Nan Feng looks equally horrified.
"It doesn't even have a door, how are they imprisoned? Don't tell me they were thrown off the
top?"
His father's gesture is hesitant. He seems reluctant to say it with Xie Meihua there, but just a
moment later, it is San Lang who answers:
"They are thrown. Besides, what awaits them at the bottom are poisonous snakes and
scorpions, as well as hungry beasts."
Xie Meihua bites the inside of his cheek, suddenly nervous, with a lousy feeling bursting at
the base of his stomach. Contrary to his nervousness, his father looks at San Lang with
something akin to relief.
Nan Feng is almost more horrified than he is himself: "How the hell can this be a prison!
That's practically a method of torture! It's too cruel! If the people of Banyue are not insane,
then they must be savages!"
His father lets out an exasperated sigh, massaging his forehead. He seems to have the same
kind of expression from when Xie Meihua asked too many questions in his childhood, and
that level of small familiarity settles a little calm in his fluttering heart.
"Not really. Some of the people in Banyue had been quite kind," he says, and just then, his
father falls silent. His eyes are fixed on the top of the pole above the Sinner's Pit, and he
points towards it before saying, "Does everyone see that pole? Is that a person hanging from
it?"
Xie Meihua's stomach lurches in nausea and clenches in discomfort at the same time. For yes,
indeed, as they have made their way through the ruined city, closer and closer to the baneful
pit in search of the Shanyue Fern, it has become much more obvious that it is a figure tied
awkwardly overhead. What Xie Meihua might have mistaken for a flag is the silhouette of a
scrawny person dressed in black, their clothes tattered and torn. It looks fragile, like a worn
doll being whipped by the wind.
"It is," confirms San Lang.
Xie Meihua takes two steps back, swallowing the sound of disgust. How could that even be
possible? Who would allow something like that? Several steps ahead of him, A-Zhao also
looks pale and completely shocked. Even he doesn’t seem to be able to bear it either.
A moment later, San Lang tilts his head, a sound like a pout coming from his lips, before
saying, "Someone is approaching."
Xie Meihua hadn't heard the footsteps, but now that San Lang had pointed it out, it's
impossible for him not to hear them. He accepts Nan Feng's tug on his arm, slipping between
the ruined houses. Only a moment after he is hidden, Xie Meihua notices that he has lost
sight of his father.
"He went the other way," Nan Feng complains, "with that San Lang."
Which makes sense. Xie Meihua sighs; in the ruins, Nan Feng, A-Zhao and himself pile
behind the safest areas, and Nan Feng beckons him over to a gap where they can both watch.
After a moment of silence interrupted only by footsteps, two figures appear, the vaporous
fabrics around them drift as if floating with their footsteps. The first figure is dressed in white
and holding a hossu in a carefree manner; she walks lightly, as if strolling through a
picturesque, decorated garden instead of the middle of the desert ruins, her steps cheerful,
short and effusive. Along with her relaxed gait, her gaze does not even look troubled as she
swivels from left to right with sparkling eyes.
Not far behind her, just a few steps further back, the other young woman is dressed in head-
to-toe black. She has both hands clasped behind her back with a dignified posture, and
although she walks a little behind the white-clad woman with a prudent distance, Xie Meihua
would never think that she was a subordinate. Everything about her bearing was dignified,
with a haughty face with cold features and a cruel gaze.
"It's the two women who were outside the inn," Nan Feng informs him, barely in a whisper.
Xie Meihua nods, remembering his father's mention of them.
The woman in white swings the hossu in a leisurely fashion.
"Where did those people run off to now? As soon as we stopped seeing them, they
disappeared. Do I really have to drag them off one by one to kill them?"
She speaks with a cheerful and jovial voice even despite her words, and the intention behind
them. Her walk is still cheerful.
The woman dressed in black continues to walk behind her. Her expression is completely
blank, and her voice is far from emotional as she opens her mouth to say, "You can call your
friends to help you kill them."
The white-clad woman lets out a jovial laugh.
"No! I don't like to call other people. I only like calling you. Doesn't that make you happy?"
The black-clad woman's icy expression looks anything but happy. She doesn't even make a
pout of disinterest before saying, "Being asked to come here and do this sort of thing is
nothing to be happy about. Hurry up, let's go."
Despite her cold words, and the obvious lack of reciprocity, the interaction only seems to
make it clear that the two's relationship is close, like that of good old friends. Xie Meihua
pouts. The woman in white also seems to be quite cheerful and with a rather unpredictable
temperament, talking about killing with a smile on her face.
Both women continue to move forward. They walk a few more steps and, just as they pass
the front of the house where Xie Meihua is hiding, the woman in black's gaze stops on the
ruined house right in front of her hiding place.
"Shit," hisses Nan Feng. And with that sound alone Xie Meihua already has it totally clear
that the place where the black clad woman is looking is the place where his father hid. Was
that even possible? Was this the extent of his father's bad luck?
"Hey," the woman in white catches her companion's attention. "Are we going or not?"
"Back off." says the woman in black, starting to raise her hand.
"No," hisses Xie Meihua, at the same time the woman in white lets out an "Oh!" taking
several steps back.
"Your Highness don't-" starts Nan Feng, but Xie Meihua raises his hand upwards. The roof is
fragile enough, and he only throws a single warning glance at A-Zhao, who slinks under a
stable structure before he throws enough spiritual power to collapse the roof completely.
It's not just the roof that collapses. The stone walls tremble, and the dilapidated buildings and
houses to the sides also crumble amidst a fierce cloud of dust and earth. Xie Meihua covers
his face with the sleeve of his robe, avoiding inhaling the dust, and Nan Feng lets out a
couple of curses even as he steps forward to launch the first attack.
There is fire pouring from his hands, a last attack of what little is left of his spiritual power.
Nan Feng lunges with an attack surrounded by flames towards the figure in white, a blow that
is easily evaded by the black-clad figure. She, barely in the blink of an eye, is already
standing protectively in front of the woman in white, easily containing the flame attack,
moving, and returning the spiritual energy with the fire surrounding her.
Xie Meihua moves through the rubble, drawing the fire towards him. It is extremely
complicated to manipulate something so hot and at the same time so volatile, but he pushes
his spiritual energy to tame the flames that burn shallowly against his fingers, returning the
attack to the woman in black. She can see amidst the chaos, as a detail that keeps her head
from collapsing, the edges of the sleeves of her robe singeing.
Back-to-back, Xie Meihua surrounds them both with the remaining sparks of fire. The flames
that seek to attack him barely graze the edges of his robe because of Nan Feng's defence, and
when he leaps before the dust fades, Xie Meihua follows him.
The women follow, swift as the wind. Only the woman in black lingers for a moment, but
when she follows him, even though they are being pursued by two terrifying and powerful
figures, Xie Meihua feels relief. His father is safe enough to search for the Shanyue Fern
without further trouble or interruption.
Now they only must face two very powerful and angry women.
"Ah, how slippery you are!" says the woman in white. Xie Meihua knows he could run faster,
and that Nan Feng has beaten him through the rubble and dust, but his ankle pulls in pain
with every movement hindering his steps. He feels as if he is walking on flames. "Come
here!"
"This way!" shouts Nan Feng, and Xie Meihua follows his voice, darting into a pile of ruins
stacked up against each other. That area could have been a trading pass, and what remains are
scraps of stone and wood. Xie Meihua slips past them, leaving flames licking the parched
wood in his wake, catching fire and blocking his path.
"Stay back." he hears the figure in black saying to him.
Then the tone of the woman in white sounds whimsical and childish as she replies:
"No fair, let me have my fun too!"
"Stop!" the woman in black seems to warn, and just as Xie Meihua is dragged into another
alley by Nan Feng, a powerful wave of wind sweeps up the debris, fire, and wreckage of
what had once been. They are blown away by a fierce wind and the foundations he and Nan
Feng are hiding next to shake.
"I told you to stop," scolds the woman in black. Her voice is hostile. "Stop acting
impulsively."
"You really like it when I act impulsively" says the woman in white, her voice utterly
cheerful. She doesn't even seem bothered by the harsh words.
"Not at all. You're irritating."
Nan Feng tugs on his arm, dragging him towards another pile of buildings, but after running
through what seems like half of what's left of the kingdom and being chased (and nearly
caught each time) there are barely any places left to hide and attract the attention of the two
women at the same time.
"We will lose in a direct confrontation" hisses Nan Feng when Xie Meihua stops, forcing him
to halt.
"We've been running almost for two incense and they don't seem to run out of steam. Even if
we lose, we'll exhaust ourselves less, hold them longer, and get answers," Xie Meihua points
out. Nan Feng snorts, but finally concedes. He stands to one side, the wall at his back, and
several breaths later the two women peek out.
They are not covered in debris and dust like them, and they look jovial, as if the race has
done nothing to them at all. The white-clad woman's eyes shine like stars in the closed night
when she sees them, giving a little happy hop.
"Oh, look who we have here!"
"Back off" growls the woman in black once again, but one hossu movement later, it is Xie
Meihua and Nan Feng who are driven back by a whip of wind. They both slam their backs
against the stone wall, Xie Meihua gasping as the air escapes his lungs from the force of the
blow.
Nan Feng's expression is pale. They both fall, and despite the pain now shooting up his leg,
Xie Meihua stands up with both hands outstretched, as if trying to keep his balance through
it.
"You won't win," says the woman in black, her eyebrows raised. It's the first expression Xie
Meihua sees on her face, and she looks honestly exhausted. "Don't be an idiot."
Xie Meihua smiles.
"I like your lipstick," he punctuates. The laughter of the woman in white behind her back
seems to cause a twitch in the brow of the woman in black. "Where did you get it? I
definitely need one."
So, even with his little experience doing it, he lets the yin energy flow.
He's only done it once, and he's sure it wasn't intentional. He hasn't tried to do it since, but he
hasn't been in life-threatening danger since that night on Mount Yu Jun. At that time, he had
no idea, but now, having read about Hua Cheng and his butterflies, he is sure that somehow
this is something he can do.
And hell if he's not going to take advantage of it.
He hears Nan Feng's gasp. It is his only alert that it has worked besides the stinging of his
hands where he has released his yin energy to disperse. It burns a little as it erupts from his
skin, but there is not as much oppressive pain as that time on Mount Yu Jun, and Xie Meihua
wants to believe that that painful response was to the burst of divinity eating away at him,
aggressively and cruelly.
The glowing motes in the air is something that seems to work, because the woman in black's
pupils shrink to a tiny, shocked dot as the silver flashes begin to surround him like wandering
dandelions, swept by a foul wind.
She takes a step back; pale, even paler than before, she looks as if she has seen a ghost.
"Your Highness, don't you-!" gasps Nan Feng, but Xie Meihua moves his hand. Moving the
specks of spiritual energy is more difficult than dragging fire. There are no more than fifty or
sixty of them, but their flashes cause the woman in black to retreat several steps, dodging the
attacks with swift movements.
Xie Meihua notices that she is not trying to attack him at all, as if the sight of the glitter
around her freezes her actions and forces her to just resist without attacking aggressively. Her
expression is pale, utterly shocked, but the murderous determination has vanished as she is
being attacked. Suddenly, all that is in her eyes is unfathomable curiosity; she keeps looking
at him every few seconds, as she dodges the attacks.
"Ah, what a wonderful thing!" says the woman in white, waving her hossu. The wind does
nothing against the glows that swoop down, faster this time, on the woman in black.
They manage to grab her robe. Xie Meihua sees the way they pierce through and back, trying
to impact against the skin. The amazed expression of the woman in white changes to a rather
cruel one when she sees that, indeed, several specks of glitter hit the exposed skin of the
woman in black.
There are visible wounds against her skin.
"Wonderful and deadly," she says, a little less jovial. She swings her hossu again, aiming it at
Xie Meihua directly. Xie Meihua takes it as fair warning before unsheathing his blades, and it
is the moment Nan Feng seems to manage to unclench his shocked jaw to yell, "Lord
Windmaster, Your Highness, STOP!"
Xie Meihua forcibly holds back the glitter attack. His heart thumps agitatedly against his ribs
and his breathing is slightly labored, and stopping the flashes feels like trying to keep a flock
of birds inside a bag of straw. He physically struggles to keep them still.
The woman in white cocks her head to one side, as if the title has struck her. After examining
Nan Feng for a moment, she pats the side of her face, utterly astonished, "Oh you, you, you,
you! You have the colours of Ju Yang Palace!"
Even in that situation, Xie Meihua spits out a laugh.
"It's Nan Yang!" protests Nan Feng. He looks pale, and his face grows even paler as the
woman in white advances; the swagger of her body is playful, and now that she has suddenly
ceased to be a threat and is amusingly approaching, that's when Nan Feng looks the most
threatened and terrified.
"Ah, yes, I'm sorry, I recognise him more for, you know..." and she gestures with her hands.
Xie Meihua turns his face away from Nan Feng's gaze so as not to laugh directly in front of
his face.
"Do you know each other?" asks Xie Meihua, recomposing himself, and blinking. He
approaches Nan Feng after re-sheathing his swords, keeping his concentration on the deadly
flashes of his energy hovering around the woman in black like an unspoken threat.
"Not personally, I believe! My memory isn't so bad that I can't remember a face like this
when I see it," says the woman in white, patting Nan Feng's cheek lightly. Nan Feng looks
sick. "However, I recognise your General. We have met several times in the Heavens."
Xie Meihua blinks.
"Oh," he says, understanding. "You are Celestial Officers, both of you?"
The woman in white nods.
"Of course, dear, of course!" she says. As she approaches, reaching out to him and stealing
his hand in a tight grip that shakes up and down, Xie Meihua can smell her scent. It's hectic
and turbulent, but it clearly smells like omega. And, on top of everything else, it smells of
power. "My name is Shi Qingxuan. But, up there, some know me as Lady Windmaster. Or
Lord Windmaster, ah! It depends on the day, I'm afraid. It varies a lot. And my companion
back there," she points her hand at the black-clad woman– she hasn't moved an inch, as if
she's acutely aware of how dangerous the silver flashes around her can be, “Is Lady
Earthmaster!"
"Lord." Ming Yi corrects her.
"Lord, Lord, my bad," Shi Qingxuan waves her hand. "Ah, I'm so sorry for the confusion. We
thought you were Banyue warriors, what are you doing here, did you also come for His
Highness of Xianle's alert?"
Xie Meihua grimaces. Dressed in humble red clothes, covered in dust and dirt, if he saw
himself in a mirror, he wouldn't have believed that in the Heavens he would answer to that
name either.
"That's me," he says, grateful for the first time for the dust of debris to cover the embarrassed
blush on his cheeks. Shi Qingxuan, who has not let go of his hand, looks amazed. She shakes
it even tighter, moving it up and down with a broad smile.
"Oh, that's wonderful! Your Highness, it's an honour to meet you, I'm sorry I attacked you!
But we thought that..."
"Yes, we thought so too," says Nan Feng. As pale and sickly as he looks, his displeased
expression also seems to be easy to use as a lethal weapon in these circumstances. "Can we
go and look for His Highness and company? They went for Shanyue Ferns."
"Can you get these things out from around me?" asks Ming Yi. Her expression is acidic, and
although she no longer has any wounds, there are still bloodstains where the silver glitter
crashed against her skin.
"Right, sorry!" Xie Meihua laughs nervously. He raises his hand, summoning spiritual energy
towards him. It's hard for them to obey this time. The glows move in a crowd away from
Ming Yi, but swirling through the wind, as if they have a mentality of their own slinking
away from him. Xie Meihua pouts. "Well, at least they're far away. Sorry, I have no idea how
to make that work properly."
"His Highness has no idea and still let them loose?" asks Nan Feng, utterly horrified.
Xie Meihua lets out a nervous laugh.
"Well, I thought we were in mortal danger!" he extends his hand towards the floating
sparkles. They don't seem willing to obey, even if Xie Meihua pulls the energy towards them,
only a few of them come closer. "My lord, I have no idea how to make them obey me, I'm so
sorry."
Ming Yi lets out a strange sound from her throat. Xie Meihua wants to believe that wasn't a
laugh.
"Your Highness, next time you do something like that, make sure you know how to control
it," laughs Shi Qingxuan. She holds out her hand just like Xie Meihua, and several of the
small glowing specks that had come down to approach Xie Meihua's call land there. They
don't land as an attack; they descend gently, like tiny dusts that radiate a glow that, as they
splash against her pale, delicate hand, is almost iridescent. "It's a magnificent thing, this.
What kind of spell is it? I heard the stories, like everyone else, but I didn't really think they
were like that! Your Highness Surrounded by Stars is magnificent."
"Ah, it's not any kind of spell," Xie Meihua stirs, uncomfortable. He pulls the yin energy into
the air again and a few more obey him, this time crashing into his hands. The sensation of
them returning to him without causing him any pain at all is, to say the least, a relief. "It's just
spiritual energy."
"Pure spiritual energy?" asks Shi Qingxuan. The glitter in his hand flies over, drifting away
and slipping into Xie Meihua's hands. "That's admirable! I've never met any God who could
manifest his spiritual energy like this, outside of his body."
"It would be better if His Highness had a little more control over them," mentions Ming Yi.
Her tone becomes sullen again and her expression devoid of all emotion. "They keep chasing
me."
Which is also true. They flutter around her head, and a few have landed on top of her
ponytail. Xie Meihua laughs nervously again.
"I'm sorry," he apologises honestly. "I don't know what's wrong. This is the second time I've
had this happen. Maybe they have some fixation with you."
Ming Yi clicks her tongue.
"Get them away from me."

"Yes, yes, sorry, sorry," Xie Meihua walks several steps closer to Ming Yi. Approaching her
feels strange, like approaching a wild beast in disguise. Xie Meihua extends his hands to the
side of her, near where the other glows keep hovering, and calls the energy back to himself.
This time, thankfully, they obey. They slide against his skin and Xie Meihua feels the energy
return to him and settle against his meridians and core automatically. He sighs with relief.
Then, when he looks at Ming Yi, all he feels is that he is seeing in blurry water. It is almost
identical to San Lang's sensation; edges that look strained, too artificial, too surrounded by
spiritual energy. He doesn't know if it's part of his perception as a god or that of a half-ghost
acting like this, but what he sees, besides a dark face, is a delusion.
He takes a step back.
"His Highness will have found the Shanyue Fern by now," says Nan Feng. His voice is laden
with the worry that still simmers inside Xie Meihua's veins, the state of his father's health.
"We should go and see."
They set off on their way back, without running this time. Xie Meihua is grateful, stepping
hurts. The pain rises from his knee to his thigh and settles in his hip as if it's biting into his
bone from the inside, and it feels as if his whole leg is recovering from a particularly painful
cramp. The sensation is unpleasant and painful no matter how much Xie Meihua tries to
ignore it. His eyes sting with tears that, with such a large and pleasant crowd, he does not
dare to shed.
They find the Shanyue Fern in the shadows of the ruined Royal Palace. They also find fresh
footprints.
"They were around here," says Nan Feng. He seems to walk right behind Xie Meihua, as if he
is using him as a human shield to pretend he is not surrounded by two women. "It looks like
they went towards..."
And following the trail of footprints, small and large like those of a rather vicious monster,
there is only one place left where they could be headed: The Sinner's Pit.
Chapter End Notes
XMH: *growls at San Lang*

SL, outside: *cold indifference*
SL, inside: He hates me, doesn't he? I had to protect His Highness, and I didn't. The pup
hates me. His Highness is hurt because of me.
XL: ... I have two such crybabies.
XMH: *attacks Ming Yi with magical glitter*

MY: ... Understood. So, Hua Cheng hit the bullseye on the first shot. I didn't want to
know that.
Yeah, definitely "Ming Yi" got it all by seeing Meihua use the killer glitters because
lmao, how could he not notice?
Guess who will find out his father's identity in the next chapter? Yes, my baby. Our baby
will finally know the truth *wink wink*
I AM SO HAPPY, SOON WE WILL HAVE GHOST CITY ARC ON THE
DONGHUA. AND ALSO HERE. CROSS YOUR FINGERS FOR THE STARS
ALIGNED!!!!
I hope with all my heart that you enjoyed today's chapter! It was fun to write, hard to
edit, sorry for all the mistakes Red had to fix lmao
Thank you so much for reading sweetie! I don't have much more to say than I love you,
and I hope you have a nice night and enjoyed the chapter!
End Notes
If you want to see omegaverse and mpreg Hualian, you can also look for me in Twitter ( ◜‿◝
)♡
Works inspired by this one
To Meet Again, After All This Time by Anonymous
Please drop by the Archive and comment to let the creator know if you enjoyed their work!

What Is Love What Is

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What is love? What is rain?

Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/40621917.

Why did I write this? Because baby, I love the drama

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Xie Meihua ascends.

See the end of the chapter for more notes

"He must be famous!"

"Very strong, very talented!"

"We must find out who he is."

"Of course, of course. Someone like that..."

"Ah, ah... Hello?"

"IS THAT YOUR HIGHNESS!?"

"No, it's not possible, it's not him..."

Murmurs erupt, much louder and much more obvious.

"Xie? Like that dammit Xie Lian?"

"Is it something to do with the Crown Prince?"

"Unbelievable, he's a bastard of the Crown Prince!"

Chapter End Notes

See the end of the chapter for more notes

It had not been complex for a calamity.

Ling Wen nods.

Ling Wen sighs. It's going to be a long, long afternoon.

Chapter End Notes

So, daily updating is a goal? Probably

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR COMMENTING, AGAIN, I LOVE YOU SO MUCH,

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However, he seemed comfortable with only his son for company.

He had to return to him soon.

Silence stretches out for a sigh. Then someone speaks.

"General Xuan Zhen" he replies. Xie Meihua nods, utterly grateful.

"Who brought down my golden palace? Don't hide, you coward!"

The laughter of General Xuan Zhen.

General Xuan Zhen responds a moment later, with obvious amusement.

The silence that follows is a little thicker, but less tense.

"He is the first-born son of His Highness."

It has to be a stroke of really, really bad luck.

Which, of course, makes sense.

(Or betting for those).

Chapter End Notes

THANK YOU VERY MUCH FOR READING, AGAIN

See you in the next chapter my sweetheart!

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It doesn't look like it's going to be a happy marriage.

Neither seems to want to be there voluntarily.

"Nan Feng" replies the alpha on the left.

"Fu Yao" replies the omega on the right.

"Which palace are they from, respectively?" he asks a moment later.

"From Nan Yang Palace" replies Nan Feng.

"From Xuan Zhen Palace" replies Fu Yao.

His father would never have to be alone again.

His father hums something that sounds like a laugh.

"How many palaces did you destroy to owe that debt?"

His father laughs again, a shaky laugh of relief.

"You make me so proud."

"For ascending. I will build you a wonderful temple, my treasure."

But he doesn't care.

Chapter End Notes

See you in the next chapter!!!

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING

See the end of the chapter for more notes

And that's where they head.

"I wonder why that is."