Chapter Text
The layer of dust was thick. It blanketed everything like snow. The passing of time is such a fickle thing. Hundreds of years can feel like the blink of an eye. The blink of an eye can feel like a million years.
He couldn't bring himself to dust them off quite yet. Having to see that face right now… How could he look at the inviting shape of those eyes, the plush curve of those cheeks, the strong turn of that jaw, the perfect curl of those soft, soft lips? He reckoned it would kill him. Again.
The sharp clack of his boots against the floor echoed along the walls, the soft tinkling of silver chains and jewelry somehow felt comforting. Though it wasn't necessary, he took a deep breath. The stale, cool air of the cave felt sharp in his lungs, so he held it there. Perhaps one pain can distract from another, more wretched pain.
His hand brushed absentmindedly against the hilt of his sword at his side, only to feel it practically vibrating. Had it been shaking this whole time? He raised a hand to give it a hard smack, but faltered just before the blow.
A ghost of a soft, caring voice echoed in his mind, pleading with him to be kinder, gentler toward the scimitar. He puffed out that breath of air in a sigh. He placed his hand on the hilt firmly, giving it a gentle squeeze.
"I know, Eming… I know," he said pitifully. The sword practically wailed in his grip, seeming to sob not unlike a small child. With gritted teeth, he smoothed his hand over the pommel. In a barely audible whisper, he soothed, "I'm sorry…"
***
Hua Cheng resurrected in the middle of a peaceful forest not too far from where he originally died in Xianle so many years ago. He seemed to always resurrect here. The soul ties itself to the body in ways beyond human understanding.
He couldn't ask for a better place to return to life. Or "life," so to speak. Sounds and smells and physical sensations felt strange after being in a non-physical form for however many years he'd been gone. But this forest was quiet, save for the leaves of trees rustling as a soft breeze blew, birds chirping in delight of the sunrise, and insects buzzing as they went about their daily work.
With a slight surge of panic he opened his eye and looked down at his hand, but the anxiety eased when he saw that familiar red string tied around his finger. He gave it a slight tug, feeling more and more rejuvenated in knowing his beloved was still out there, still okay, still waiting for him.
He moved to sit up, meditating to allow himself to relearn his senses and regain full control of his body. When he finally opened his eye again, it was nighttime.
He stood slowly, disciplining his every move so as to not misstep. He found himself to be far more in control than he expected to be, and began making his way through the forest, growing more confident with every step.
He gave that string another good tug to make sure he was heading in the right direction and his mind filled with thoughts of Xie Lian. He wondered how long it had been, if Xie Lian looked any different, if he still maintained Puqi Shrine, if he gained any new worshipers in his absence.
He walked for a while following that red string. The eastern horizon was just starting to glow when he finally realized where he was going. It seemed so obvious: Mount Taicang, of course.
The jingle of silver chains increased with his steps. The sword at his side hummed in anticipation. A smile even crept its way across his face. Finally, just as the sun passed a sliver of itself over the horizon, the little cottage came into view. Hua Cheng's heart no longer beat, but he could have sworn he could feel it fluttering in his chest.
He clasped and unclasped his hands nervously as he approached the small building. It looked different from what he remembered, but that was a very brief, passing thought.
The door stood before him now, quaint and unassuming. He took in a deep breath to ground himself. This mountain smelled so familiar. He lifted a hand to knock at the door, hesitating for just a moment.
Why did a shiver of dread pass through him?
Without another thought, his knuckles struck the wooden door.
The sound echoed in his ear like a roaring wave, until finally, the soft patter of steps broke through the clamor.
The door opened slowly, revealing that perfect, perfect face. Hua Cheng couldn't control his smile as it spread wide across his own. "Gege," he breathed.
Xie Lian's eyes widened, and he didn't move. Hua Cheng watched his throat bob down and back up with a hard swallow.
"Sa… San Lang?" Xie Lian said incredulously, his voice sounding thick from sleep.
Hua Cheng reached out a hand, his smile still wide and bright. He could feel Eming starting to shake from excitement as well. "Yes, it is your San Lang."
Xie Lian simply stared at that hand outstretched toward him, but he was frozen in place. His heart was racing. Like a wild animal caught in a trap, Xie Lian was helpless.
"Gege…" Hua Cheng cooed. "Are you sleepy?"
Hua Cheng's smile dropped when he saw the pained look that flashed through Xie Lian's eyes.
Xie Lian swallowed again. "San La…" He clenched his teeth for a moment before speaking again. "San Lang. Do you… Do you know how long it has been?"
Hua Cheng's shoulders dropped slightly. No, no, this was wrong. Everything about this entire thing was wrong. With a slight shake in his voice he responded, "This humble believer apologizes, for he does not know how long it has been."
Xie Lian held his gaze, that pained look from before returning and this time making itself a residence on his face. "I haven't counted in a while, but it has been three hundred eighty years or more."
Cold dread washed over Hua Cheng.
Nearly four hundred years? How… How had so much time passed? It never took him that long to resurrect in the past… Three hundred eighty years. Three hundred eighty years.
Three hundred eighty years.
Hua Cheng fell to his knees and bowed his head. "Please forgive this San Lang. I never intended to make Your Highness wait for so long."
Xie Lian's eyes bulged from his head, and finally he could move again. He reached down to Hua Cheng, grasping at his shoulders and urging him back up. With a glance over his own shoulder back into the cottage, he whispered, "Stop, stop. Get up, get up!"
Hua Cheng flinched at his touch. Those fingers grabbed at him worriedly; that voice carried the tone of panic. This was not the touch he yearned for.
He stood slowly, and Xie Lian's hands retreated. "Your Highness…." He paused for a moment, eyeing his neck. The smooth pale skin was unbroken, unmarred by that old cursed shackle. He briefly followed the line of his neck down toward his shoulder where the skin disappeared under his robe. "Does His Highness wish this one to leave?"
A different kind of pain flashed in Xie Lian's eyes. "No, no!" He said loudly, flinching slightly at his own volume. "It's just… I… Well, I… San Lang, I didn't think I'd ever see you again."
The words struck Hua Cheng like an arrow to the chest.
Suddenly, another voice was heard from within the cottage.
"Lianlian, who is here?"
Hua Cheng briefly remembered what it felt like to have all those poor, cursed souls of Xianle implode within him.
A tall, strapping young man came into view. His tan, sunkissed skin glistened like gold even in the low light of the morning. He looked warm, something Hua Cheng could never be. Soft white inner robes hung gently over his shoulders, but stark black hair draped across the white, like slashes of ink on paper. Like slashes of a name on skin.
Xie Lian turned around quickly, the force of his turn whipping his hair. Hua Cheng could smell his scent, and it almost soothed him. But how could he be soothed at a moment like this?
"No, don't," Xie Lian said quickly. He took in a quick, shaky breath. "Please, um… Just give me a moment."
The man looked curiously at Hua Cheng, and Hua Cheng did his best to send the sharpest daggers his one eye could in return.
"My love, who is this?" The man's voice was tender. Not deep, but certain.
Hua Cheng's mind was spiraling out of control.
Xie Lian was trembling now. "I will not ask again. Please. Give me a moment."
The man's brows knitted, but obediently he turned away.
Hua Cheng didn't know when he did it, but when Xie Lian turned back toward him he realized he had stepped back once from the cottage. The distance felt much farther than it actually was.
Xie Lian's hands shook almost violently and he gripped the edge of the door and the doorframe. His voice broke as he whispered. "San Lang."
Something was dying inside of Hua Cheng. His hands felt frozen like ice. They were normally cold, of course, because he was a ghost, but he never truly felt cold. His hip buzzed strangely, and he realized it was Eming shaking against him. He moved to swat at it, but the movement wasn't right. He felt like he was underwater, resistance forming against his every move.
Xie Lian wanted to grab him, hold him, caress his cheeks. He wanted to scream and fling himself off a cliff - no, a thousand cliffs. Xie Lian had so many things he wanted to say, three hundred eighty some years worth of things to say, but his voice was suddenly nowhere to be found.
How do you tell the man you once loved lifetimes ago that you thought you'd never see again that you'd fallen for someone else?
Hua Cheng, though, understood. Eons of time may pass, but he will never change. Nothing about Xie Lian could ever be a mystery to him, and standing there in the morning chill of the sunrise, Hua Cheng knew that while he will always be Xie Lian's, Xie Lian was no longer his.
"Tell me…" Hua Cheng paused, closing his eye. "Tell me, Your Highness. Are you very happy?"
An awful, pained cry ripped its way out of Xie Lian's throat. Hua Cheng's eye shot open in a panic, and he briefly surged toward him as if to comfort him, but he stopped. Xie Lian's hands flew to his face as sobs wracked his body.
Hua Cheng's jaw clenched so tightly he thought his teeth might shatter. "Your Highness, have I not told you before? I understand your everything."
Xie Lian's knees grew weak, and he started to tumble forward, but Hua Cheng couldn't allow that to happen. He surged forward, catching Xie Lian just in time, and Xie Lian's sobs grew more desperate. They both knelt on the ground, and Hua Cheng pulled him closer. The warmth of Xie Lian's body against his sent him over the edge.
He didn't think it was possible for ghosts to cry.
"San Lang," Xie Lian sobbed into his shoulder. "I'm so sorry."
Hua Cheng simply held his shoulders, barely moving. His throat felt like he was swallowing fire as he quietly responded, "Your happiness is what matters most to me."
Xie Lian gripped Hua Cheng's robe tightly. "I thought you were gone forever."
"I will never leave you."
"I didn't mean to fall in love with someone else."
Hua Cheng couldn't bring himself to speak anymore. Xie Lian continued sobbing, babbling nonsense and apologies, but Hua Cheng stayed silent, holding him as he cried. A few cold tears rolled down Hua Cheng's cheek too, but they dried before Xie Lian's sobs finally quieted.
The sun was over the horizon now by the time Xie Lian's cries ceased and he separated himself from Hua Cheng. A dark patch colored over Hua Cheng's shoulders from the tears collected there. "I'm…," Xie Lian started, but the words died in his throat.
Eming was steadily rattling away in its scabbard. Finally, Hua Cheng had built up the strength to give it a hard smack. It stilled, finally, finally.
Xie Lian let out a soft gasp, "San Lang, don't-" but he stopped himself.
Hua Cheng held his gaze.
It felt like a long time passed when they both finally decided to stand up. Hua Cheng watched as Xie Lian's jaw flexed, seeming to turn over an idea. Finally, he reach up toward his neck and pulled at the faint chain there.
"Do you… um… Do you want this back?" Xie Lian's voice was quiet, as if it would shatter if he spoke louder.
Hua Cheng just looked at him. He'd been dead for a long time now, but sitting here on the ground in front of the cottage on Mount Taicang, Hua Cheng finally knew what it was like to die.
"It is a great honor that Your Highness would keep my ashes safe for this many years. It would… It would be an even greater honor if Your Highness would continue to do so."
Xie Lian's hands trembled. They never stopped trembling from earlier. He still held the ring on the chain between his fingers, but both of their gazes rested on that red string.
Hua Cheng wished he could go back to that cold beach.
"Your Highness would like me to…" The words died in his throat, just like the rest of him died over and over as he stood there under the swinging ax of rejection.
Xie Lian could no longer meet Hua Cheng's gaze. "It's only because I feel like…" He let out an exasperated sigh. "I betrayed you. I don't deserve this red string or these ashes."
"You did not betray me."
His voice was small, "If I look in your eye it's all I can see."
"Then I'll gouge it out."
Xie Lian looked up, panicked. "No, San Lang, please!"
Hua Cheng hadn't moved. But if Xie Lian asked, he would have gouged out his eye without hesitation.
Something in Hua Cheng's gaze softened as he looked at Xie Lian, his beloved, his god. He gingerly reached out and took that hand, that perfect, soft hand. He lingered for a moment, before gently pulling the string until it fell silently from the god's finger.
Hua Cheng could see Xie Lian's lip tremble as he pulled that soft, perfect hand up to his own lips, and placed a gentle kiss there.
"To die for you in battle is my greatest honor. To live for you still is my greatest privilege."
***
Hua Cheng could not remember how he got to the Cave of Ten Thousand Gods. But here he was, standing in the middle of it.
He tried to imagine how long it had been since someone was last here. By the layer of dust, he could tell it had been a very long time indeed.
He comforted Eming, though he didn't know where he found the patience or the gentleness to do so. Within his mind was a raging sea, and he could not break above the waves.
The next time he registered his actions, he and Eming were on a rampage, slashing and stabbing at the stone walls of the cave, rocks and dust falling all around them and polluting the air. Even in his hysteria he was careful still to not damage his precious statues, or to beat the walls too closely to them.
He and Eming were screaming, slashing violently against the walls of the cave. For how many days or hours it went on, he did not know. But there were new paths carved and old paths were filled with chunks of stone, so he imagined it had been quite a while.
Eming still cried in his hand. He knew not how else to comfort it. If violence and anger wouldn't satiate neither the blade nor the wielder, then what else could?
For a brief moment, Hua Cheng wanted to say a prayer.
But how could he pray to a god that no longer wanted him the way he needed to be wanted?
A laugh somehow bubbled its way up his throat. Why he laughed, he did not know, but if anyone else heard it they would know he had truly, truly gone mad.
He looked down at his own hand, admiring that red string that had been wrapped around his finger for so long. With a final chuckle, he reached down and pulled the string, letting it fall from his fingers as he walked toward the exit of the cave.
A single red thread sat on the floor of the cave, curled into a nameless shape. The string was lost as the dust settled. Never again would the cave be disturbed.