--Notes:
If you want to skip the explicit scene, I've marked beginning and end with these ^^^^^
You won't miss out on the plot if you skip it.--
Soaking in steaming hot water, a delicate fragrance rising from it in delicate spirals, Xie Lian breathed a sigh of relief. The warmth seeped into his body, relaxing tense muscles and washing away dirt and grime, and he felt at peace.
Hua Cheng's nimble hands were at his hair, carefully combing through the strands to clean away stubborn particles of dust, and the gentle touch on his scalp made the Crown Prince melt into his husband's care.
Those simple moments were the ones he treasured most deeply in his heart. As if Xie Lian and Hua Cheng weren't a god fallen from grace and a ghost feared by all, but just two beings in love, happy to stay together and live their long-awaited dream. It gave him peace, thinking that.
The illusion never lasted long, and that time it was E-Ming and RuoYe's turn to break it. In another fit of jealousy, RuoYe had slapped E-Ming right on the gleaming eye in its handle, and the saber came flying to Xie Lian, shaking like an outraged child. Seeing that, Xie Lian couldn't help but laugh: «San Lang, you should compliment E-Ming more, look how sad it is when RuoYe is jealous».
Never stopping his work on His Highness' hair, wetting them with more soapy water, Hua Cheng raised an eyebrow: «Gege should not feel so sympathetic for my sword», he replied, a bit drily. E-Ming liked to steal Xie Lian's attention too much.
The Ghost King would never admit he was envious of his spiritual tool, but at times it was the only description he had for himself. RuoYe was even worse, always allowed to touch his husband's skin!
Xie Lian laughed again, then shook his head: «Oh, San Lang, you're too much».
His touch stilled for a moment, then resumed with even more gentleness to it. Whenever he talked like that to Hua Cheng, in the same teasingly loving tone he was so fond of using, his husband became flustered. Some times so much he either completely froze, or hid his blushing face in his hands. Not that he could really blush, but that faint pink tinge of his cheeks told the tale.
It couldn't be denied how funny was to see the fearsome Crimson Rain Sought Flower reduced to a flustered mess by a handful of honey-coated words.
Humming quietly, Hua Cheng finished his work on Xie Lian's hair and finally moved from behind him. With the same, lovestruck look of adoration on his face, he started scrubbing Xie Lian clean, so carefully he didn't even redden his skin.
Impatient, Xie Lian grabbed the collar of his robes and pulled him down for a kiss, only remotely aware that the movement made him plunge his arms in the bathwater. The kiss was rather chaste, however, and Xie Lian let him go with a chuckle, apologizing for his soaking sleeves. He kinda wanted Hua Cheng to join him in the enveloping warmth of the bath, and maybe take things further, but weariness and fatigue had the upper hand.
So, without making more moves, he let Hua Cheng bathe him.
Xie Lian realized he dozed off only when, wrapped in a soft towel, he found himself in Hua Cheng's arms, steady steps bringing him to their bedroom.
Maybe he was even more tired that he though, because when Hua Cheng put him to bed and tucked him under precious silk covers, he didn't even try to get another kiss from him. Instead, Xie Lian waited for Hua Cheng to undress himself and then clung to him, nuzzling his face in the crook of his neck.
The Ghost King was cold, his skin not warmed by the healthy flow of life under it, but Xie Liang grew accustomed to it long before; they were opposites, warm the one in the airy heavens and cold the one in the fiery hells, and they completed each other.
Not two faces of the same coin, rather two pages of the same book, able to meet in the middle. If Xie Lian was the flower, the beautiful, fragrant flower as white as his soul and a symbol of death, then Hua Cheng was the rain, a crimson rain, that smelled of iron and was a symbol of life.
As a god, Xie Lian had a dark past to taint the purity of the flower. As a ghost, Hua Cheng hid bright days to lighten the corruption of the blood.
Alone, they weren't perfect. Together... together they couldn't be more so.
In the kind one there was evil, and in the evil one there was kindness. Together, they created a black and white balance.
Tired, Xie Lian smiled softly when Hua Cheng's arms enveloped him, and he twined their legs together. Then, asking for no more than the lulling temptation of sleep, he fell into a deep slumber.
If there was one thing Hua Cheng would never grow tired of, it was gazing upon His Highness while he was still asleep. When awake, Xie Lian had a beautiful energy flowing through him, eyes glittering with so many emotions and lips curved in small but genuine smiles. It was like he was shining, glowing with heavenly light even before his ascension, a thin sheen of it never leaving his figure. He was gentle, and kind, but also so strong.
While asleep, however, there was an unseen softness to his features, never so relaxed in the hours of waking. He was peaceful, unbothered by the world, and Hua Cheng couldn't help but brush away some strands of hair from his face. Even though he loved to see Xie Lian unraveled and disheveled under his touch, cheeks flushed and hair strewn about like rivers of flowing wood, he also delighted in the privilege he had of watching his beloved with his guard down, just placidly asleep.
Dreaming, maybe, Xie Lian hummed something in his sleep and scooted a bit closer, placing an arm on Hua Cheng's chest as he did so.
Too much, Xie Lian said... in reality, it was Xie Lian himself that was too much for Hua Cheng, not the opposite. To that day, the Ghost King was still adamant in being his most devoted believer, but he still had bad days, days in which he thought His Highness deserved someone better, someone stronger, someone more beautiful.
Xie Lian never let him bask in those sulking thoughts.
Instead, he would cup his face with his hands and kiss him, not with passion but with fondness, a devotion he should just receive and not give. He would raise his fingers to his eye-patch, brush them against the black fabric covering the empty eye socket, and then untie the string holding it up. He would place light, fluttering kisses to his sunken eyelid, and refuse to put the eye-patch back until Hua Cheng stopped commiserating himself.
«What did I do to deserve your love, my Highness?», he whispered.
«You're just you».
Staggered, Hua Cheng breathed out a small gasp, a lump quickly forming in his throat. He didn't realize Xie Lian was awake, but he was still half-asleep, expression groggy and voice just barely over a murmur. He hugged him, now unafraid of waking his beloved, and pressed him close to his chest: «This lowly one cannot be enough for Your Highness», he shook his head.
He felt Xie Lian smile against his skin, the movement of his lips brushing it.
«My San Lang is not enough, that's right», Xie Lian said, relishing in the feeling of his husband hugging him so tight. «My San Lang is too much, my heart can't take so much love».
Flustered, again, Hua Cheng replied with a low whine, and Xie Lian laughed heartily: «However, my San Lang should get out of bed and go practice calligraphy», he said. He didn't forget, after all, that he silently promised him more lessons for his reckless behavior.
«Couldn't my A-Lian make an exception?».
Xie Lian blushed at him using his name in such a teasing manner, but disentangled himself from the hug and propped himself up with one hand, the other busy tracing Hua Cheng's lips with graceful fingers. He bent down, just enough for his breath to caress that inviting mouth; nibbling at his lower lip, Xie Lian left a trail of light kissed on his face, from the corner of his mouth to his earlobe.
He could already feel Hua Cheng's hands coming to grip his waist, not forceful but not too gentle either. Could Xie Lian make an exception for his beautiful, provocative husband?
Smiling, he left a kiss just under his ear, and his breath tickled pale cartilage.
Maybe.
«No».
But not today.
The shocked expression Hua Cheng gifted him with was enough for Xie Lian to erupt in a fit of laughter, toppling back down on his husband's chest. He seemed one step away from raising one hand to his chest in pure, unadulterated outrage, like a dramatic actor on a play stage.
«You didn't behave», he told him, kissing away the pout that appeared on his lips. «Besides, what would have happened if those heavenly officials challenged you to a writing competition, instead of a dispute?».
It was said that Hua Cheng insulted those civil gods with such harshness they started spitting blood, but if they'd chosen writing...
«I would have asked them "if you can read this, you win", and I still would have won».
«Stop being proud of that».
«Stop me yourself».
Xie Lian kindly accepted the provocation and shut his husband up with one more kiss.
Bewitched by the sight in front of his eyes, Xie Lian needed a nudge from Hua Cheng to remember he was supposed to bear the stern expression of a teacher. The magnificent building the Ghost King built just for him, a temple of elegant beauty, bore now an actual function, and he forgot about it.
When Hua Cheng built Qiandeng Temple, the only one ever heard of in a world populated by ghosts instead of mortals, he did it to honor Xie Lian. Now, with his heavenly rank restored, it was a proper divine temple, with a god behind it.
Xie Lian had seen so many of his temples trampled and destroyed that looking up at the name plaque brought tears to his eyes. Even if nothing virtually changed, that place was now completely new for him, bearing a new meaning, a new existence.
It wasn't washed by sunlight, neither that gold glow would ever shine on it, but lanterns and fires still burned all around, and nothing was hidden from view. Thousands of lights adorned the temple itself, creating a stark contrast with the dark, reddish aura of Ghost City. It was like Xie Lian never really saw it for real, and was only now discovering it.
No one would come and worship him in Ghost City, but that temple meant everything and more to Xie Lian. Even without a divine statue, even with an altar they used to practice calligraphy on instead of leaving offerings.
No matter how far he would go, how hard he would fall, Xie Lian would always have one believer supporting him. Now that he was a god, and Qiandeng Temple had more significance, the notion finally weighed itself on the Crown Prince's shoulders, heavier than it had ever been.
He took a deep breath, squeezing Hua Cheng's hand, and smiled: «Come on, San Lang. I'm sure your brush is waiting for you».
Five poems later, Hua Cheng already started complaining about how boring it was, nonsensical squiggles appearing on the paper under his brush in place of characters.
That poor, legendary brush that always brought pity in Xie Lian's heart.
Hua Cheng's calligraphy was really the only thing that genuinely made Xie Lian laugh, not in adoration but it straight up amusement. He felt bad, because with all the disaster he caused every day laughing should be the last thing he should do – especially if he took into account all the times he tried to cook – but he couldn't help himself.
That handwriting was so bad.
So bad that he didn't even recognize his own name, when he saw it tattooed on Hua Cheng's arm.
«I'm sorry», he apologized, tearing up as he barely contained hs laugh. «I'm really sorry, San Lang».
He just... it was so bad. Years of practice should have helped him, by now, but literally nothing could save that terrible handwriting. Not hours of writing and re-writing the same poem, not trying to tackle single characters, nothing. It was the one thing Hua Cheng couldn't do.
«It's this brush that should be sorry», Hua Cheng huffed, carelessly throwing it aside. Then he sighed, and rested his elbow on the altar, head placed on the palm of his hand; looking at Xie Lian laugh was better than drinking a cup of water after traversing a desert. He couldn't care less that he was laughing at his handwriting.
Hua Cheng himself wanted to laugh at how bad it was, after all.
There was a time when Xie Lian thought he was faking it, that he really got better yep wanted to keep up the act, but the truth was... Hua Cheng really couldn't write properly. He could draw, with such accuracy that his paintings looked almost alive, and he could sculpt life-like statues, but writing... it didn't work. For some reason, his hand lacked the coordination to do such a simple task, no matter how many times he practiced it.
He was getting better, but it had also been decades.
«If gege finds my handwriting funny, why doesn't he write something for me?», he asked, cheeky as always.
Raising an eyebrow – habit he got from his husband – Xie Lian immediately found a compromise.
He made him grab the brush again, then placed his hand on top of Hua Cheng's, acting as a guide. He told him to just follow his lead, memorize the strokes and the movements.
Trying not to think about how it was just a blatant attempt at cheating himself out of the lesson, Xie Lian dipped the brush in ink and moved Hua Cheng's hand to the paper, slow and deliberate movements making the bristles dance on a pristine white background.
He couldn't understand how Hua Cheng was so terrible at it, when he was able to draw so beautifully, and he smiled upon seeing his awestruck face, as under his fingers perfect characters started appearing.
I want to be your love for ever and ever,
Without break or decay.
When the hills are all flat,
The rivers are all dry.
The brushstrokes faltered, as Hua Cheng's hold trembled a bit, but Xie Lian only softened his smile, with his other arm hugging his husband's waist. It was a poem he remembered from some time before, one he found while collecting scraps; he had no idea who wrote it, only that it was filled with love.
And that love Xie Lian poured onto the paper, gently guiding Hua Cheng to write the next part.
When it thunders in winter,
When it snows in summer
When heaven and earth mingle
Not till then will I part from you.
As soon as the brush wrote the last character and lifted from the page, Hua Cheng threw it away and made a complete mess of the altar. In a matter of seconds, Xie Lian found himself with his back pressed against it, Hua Cheng's arms encircling him in a possessive and sensual hug, lips devouring his mouth as if it was their last day on earth.
Taken aback, Xie Lian moaned in the kiss and Hua Cheng took it as an opportunity to deepen it, his tongue tentatively licking at his lips in a quiet request. Was Xie Lian going to indulge him, this time?
Yes, oh, yes he was going to.
^^^^^
He parted his lips, let him take full control of a kiss that was now burning with passion, moaned into it again; Hua Cheng was addicting, more than gambling, more than infatuating smoke, he always left Xie Lian begging for more.
And for more he begged, tangling his fingers in inky strands of hair, tugging at them, keeping him close as he positively accepted his hunger; Xie Lian was now almost bent backward on the altar, one leg coming up to hug Hua Cheng's hip, instantly supported by a hand. Silently, he thanked Hua Cheng for the wide amount of choices he had in his wardrobe, because the long white robes he favored would have been immediately ripped in his fervor.
«Ah, San Lang... let's not do it here», he barely panted, out of breath after the thorough make out session, not bothering to restrain a particularly high pitched moan when Hua Cheng's free hand snaked below his robe. By the time he came to himself, the upper part of his robes had already slipped past his shoulders, exposing white skin quickly turning a faint shade of pink.
As soon as Hua Cheng's mouth latched itself onto his shoulder, kissing and biting and moving from there to his neck and there again, his previous statement was long forgotten. It was his temple, after all, he could do whatever he wanted in it.
Growling, an hungry beast with the most caring touch, Hua Cheng let his leg go and moved his clever hands to Xie Lian's chest, removing more fabric as he caressed and scratched the skin beneath his fingers, pinkish marks soon appearing where his nails passed.
Raising his other leg, as to latch onto his hips, Xie Lian moaned just for him, claiming those perfect lips again, crashing their mouths together in an outburst of desire.
Cold digits played with his chest, circling his nipples, and Xie Lian couldn't help but grind against him when his husband pinched and rolled them between his fingers. Only his mouth, still busy fighting a clash of tongues, silenced the loud groan Xie Lian wanted to exhale.
Heat pooled up lower and lower, and when Xie Lian moved against him again he could feel Hua Cheng becoming aroused as well, growing more and more impatient as time went by, never once stopping his ministrations to bring pleasure to his husband.
«S-Stop, San Lang», Xie Lian said, eyes glossed over with desire. Hua Cheng did stop, confused, but Xie Lian only took that pause as an opportunity to swiftly undo the robes of the ghost and slide them away. No matter how self-conscious Hua Cheng could be of his body, at times, to the Crown Prince is was the most beautiful sight to see, a statue carved in the most precious stone, and just like stone white and cold, but with pure spiritual energy roaring beneath pale flesh.
Breath itching, Xie Lian palmed the skin, feeling the softness of is under his hands, far from the harsher appearance of it; he couldn't feel a heart beating, it had been silent for centuries, yet strangely enough blood still flowed inside him. It was darker, colder than human blood, and Xie Lian stopped his mission to understand how it worked long before; it was better to just accept the facts, and go along with them.
Hua Cheng, whispering endearing words Xie Lian couldn't quite make out, curled his fingers around one of his wrists and brought his husband's hand to his mouth, kissing the palm, the back, each knuckle and finger, in a captivating display of affection. His tongue joined soon, licking the space between his fingers, his lower lip trailing up the underside of index and middle before taking them into his mouth.
Xie Lian let out a strangled sound, face burning even more, and felt the arousal between his legs twitch in response to the pure lust gleaming in the dark eye of his husband.
Upset in the most delicious way possible, Xie Lian reached out and untied his eye-patch, slowly taking it off and placing it on the altar. He cupped his cheek, more pink than normal, brushed a thumb on the empty eye socket; still sucking on his fingers, still looking like he'd rather have something different between his lips, Hua Cheng leaned into the touch and made a low, deep rumbling noise that went straight to Xie Lian's groin.
«You're so beautiful», he told him, his voice almost shaking. «So, so beautiful... my San Lang».
His fingers came out of Hua Cheng's mouth with a wet sound, glistening with saliva, and the ghost shamelessly brought them to his chest, groaning at the feeling of the digits teasing sensitive spots.
The lewd expression on his husband's face and the obscene sounds coming from his mouth were enough to finally shatter all the self-control Xie Lian imposed on himself.
«L-let me have your mouth», he gasped, flushing even more at his words. «I want to feel you on me».
Hua Cheng grinned, pleased with himself, wonderfully aware of how much Xie Lian was enjoying his treatment: «As you wish, Your Highness», he said, voice rumbling in his throat and low in arousal. He made sure to emphasize the last two words, rolling them on his tongue, an indecent tone he would never use out in public.
It was for Xie Lian only, his deepest devotion, mingling with blazing thirst. He would move mountains and cross the seas for him, kill with a glance, give life if he could do so, but nothing brought him more satisfaction than to be able to pleasure him, to make Xie Lian bathe in delectable indulgence, to make him moan and groan his name as he neared his completion.
Hungry, always hungry for him, whether craving chaste affection or carnal pleasure, Hua Cheng fell to his knees, bowed to his prince, His Highness, his husband. Teasingly, he ran his hands down Xie Lian's body, dragging his robes down and open with them, until they finally pooled in a pure white heap on the floor. If he had breaths to spare, he would have lost them, gazing upon the marvelous body of his beloved, pale skin marred by scars he couldn't avoid him from getting.
In bed, when they lazily rode their pleasure, Hua Cheng loved to caress and kiss every scar, to feel the ridges of healed tissue under his fingers; he wanted Xie Lian to feel loved, every inch of his body worshipped, all his flaws nothing but more places to latch his lips onto. They were sensitive, enough to make him squirm and shudder, Hua Cheng made sure to never let them be a burden for him.
But there, hastily chasing release in a temple with a newly found meaning, Hua Cheng had no time for that. Xie Lian urged him on, words almost drowned in delighted shivers, and how could Hua Cheng resist such a temptation?
Irreverent, the Ghost King nuzzled his husband's arousal, feeling the hardness of it, gave it a playful lick; the sound he elicited from Xie Lian's vocal chords shot down between his legs right that instant.
«San Laaaaaang», Xie Lian whined, propping himself up with an elbow on the altar. «Stop teasing me!».
In response, Hua Cheng chuckled: «Mh, you're enjoying it, though», he said, a mischievous shimmer in his eye. As a reply, Xie Lian tangled his free hand in the ghost's black hair and urged him closer.
Taking the hint, Hua Cheng stopped playing and parted his lips, breath ghosting over Xie Lian's member; he took him into his mouth with slow, gradual progress, lapping at the head with his tongue before going down more, the vaguely salty taste of precum smearing along the way.
He'd had many ghosts tell him – unwanted and unprompted – that they hated that feeling, that stringy taste, and while he wanted to trample them for making him listen to such things, Hua Cheng couldn't really think to dislike it. It was Xie Lian, all of his Xie Lian, why would he hate it?
Diligent, although not giving up on some small teasing, Hua Cheng took him all in his mouth, as far down as he could; he didn't know how Xie Lian could do it, with his need to breathe in the way, but he loved taking him like that.
It was indecorous, to admit it with such effortlessness, but it was worth every whimper and moan he got out of his husband.
He moved almost lazily, head going forwards and backwards with no set rhythm to it, only following what Xie Lian told him to with his voice and impatient tugs at his hair. Soon enough, obscene wet sounds filled Qiandeng temple, Hua Cheng happily kneeling between his husband's legs and sucking him eagerly, as the god urged him to go faster, to take him deeper.
He even yanked at his hair, spiritual power drizzling out from his fingers as control threatened to slip from his grasp, and Hua Cheng welcomed the gesture with a low, satisfied moan. The vibrations of it made Xie Lian even crazier and he bucked his hips, in a movement that would have had the Ghost King choke had he been searching for air.
Unashamed, Hua Cheng undid the laces of the pants he wore under the robes and took himself in hand, stroking in time with his mouth. He was hard, so much so that it was painful to even touch the sensitive skin with the palm of his hand.
He knew he couldn't last long, wouldn't last long.
Xie Lian was close as well, his pleasured whines more erratic, mixing incoherent sounds with the sweet, gratifying melody of San Lang on his lips; it took the ghost just a couple more tries, and Xie Lian buried his hand deep into his hair, yanking him forward as he came hot and salty right down his throat. A long, drawn out moan resounded in Hua Cheng's ears, who swallowed without a second thought, and he came as well, pulling away from his husband and parting his lips in a low and obscene groan while he rode his high.
Completely out of breath, his heart insanely pounding in his chest, Xie Lian watched Hua Cheng bring his dirty hand up to his mouth; in less than a second, he was kneeling on the floor beside him, and took those fingers between his lips, before the ghost could claim them for himself.
Delighting in the shocked expletive his husband exhaled, Xie Lian licked his hand clean, not even scrunching his nose at the salty taste left on his tongue.
«You taste good», he murmured, resting his head on the now cleaned palm, and relished in the sigh of Hua Cheng blushing even more, trying to stutter out a response but being too flustered to do so.
It was the best part of it, honestly, look at how Hua Cheng came undone with such simple words. His generally collected behavior always ended up reduced to nothing, during their moments together, an intimate secret no one but Xie Lian was supposed to know.
He laughed, though the sound came out lazy, and leaned in to steal one more kiss. His lips were still red and swollen from their previous ones, and Hua Cheng's were definitely softer after working them so thoroughly. Xie Lian didn't mind the taste of himself on the other one's tongue. Rather, he prolonged the kiss for as long as he could, though he had still to break it too soon.
It was always too soon. Sometimes, he wished to have no need for air in his lungs, just to kiss Hua Cheng for hours on end, without pulling back.
He laughed again, feeling contented, his forehead now resting against his husband's: «I really love you, my sweet fox».
Hua Cheng blushed furiously at that – or, well, as furiously as a ghost could – and hid his face in the crook of Xie Lian's head: «A-Liaaaaan», he whined, embarrassed. «You're going to be the death of me».
A sincere laugh was the only response Xie Lian could think of.
^^^^^
«We made a mess», Xie Lian sighed. Dressed again, robes as impeccable as they were before ending in a pile on the floor, the Crown Prince shook his head at the innocent pieces of paper and writing utensils scattered around. A bottle of ink spilled its contents all over the altar, the black fluid dripping on the floor, but at least the majority of the stuff was safe. Only a handful – Xie Lian realized with a bit of disappointment – suffered permanent damage.
At least the brush made it.
Though, judging by the look Hua Cheng shot the item, he clearly hoped to see it gone.
«This was supposed to be a calligraphy lesson».
«We wrote a poem».
Xie Lian side-eyed him: «I'm going to tell everyone how bad you are at writing».
The look of pure horror that traversed Hua Cheng's face was enough for the Crown Prince to burst out laughing. A silver butterfly fluttered close, landing on the point of his nose, so Xie Lian ran to hug his husband: «Fine, I'm not telling», he conceded. «But you're really terrible».
With that – and the promise that everything would be cleaned – they left Qiandeng temple to stroll around. The crimson glow of Ghost City enveloped everything in a dim light, dotted here and there by spiritual fires, but what Xie Lian really loved when it came to the light of the city was the beautiful lanterns. It was incredible, that such delicate things could be created in a place inhabited by ghosts.
They were different from the lanterns created by human hands, in shape and light, but the concept was the same, write or draw something on them and then let them float, or hang them at the end of a stick or on long pieces of string.
It took a while for Xie Lian to grow used to Ghost City, so different from the sunlit villages and cities he would collect scraps in or make a living in with busking activities, but he loved it. Strangely enough, to him it seemed even more homely that the Heavenly Capital itself, nestled on white and gold clouds. His palace was empty, back there, cold for the spirit, while Paradise Manor... it wasn't the grandness of it, neither the rooms filled with riches, or the dazzling armory. Xie Lian loved how warm it was, not for his body but for his soul. The Heavenly Capital was too clean, too white, too cold. Paradise Manor, instead, was all red and gold, warm tones underlined with black. For Xie Lian, who lived a lonely life up to his arrival at Ghost City, seeing warm colors all around him made him feel better.
It was the red of blood, of maple, of fire, of Hua Cheng. He liked wearing white, donning the fiery color every once in a while because it made Hua Cheng beam with happiness, but he didn't like living surrounded by purity. It reminded him of the stark white nightmares he still sometimes had.
His palace in the clouds, while not white, was still too cold for him. It was golden, and grey, and hid hues of blue; the red glass of the windows wasn't enough to ease his heart, as he realized when he stepped back into it. Even the earthy tones of wood were better, compared to that beautiful coldness.
Ghost City was a profusion of red. At first, all that red used to be unsettling, reminding him of the blood spilled during his life, but then he forgot about it. He forgot about that sense of unease, growing closer to the color as he associated it with Hua Cheng.
Even the thought of blood changed ways, from reminding him of his past to be a memento of Hua Cheng's charming crimson rain.
And the ghosts! They swarmed the streets, always busy, always loud, they called him "granduncle" – much to Hua Cheng's chagrin – and saw him as a friend. At the beginning, Xie Lian thought they were being nice to him just because they were terrified of Hua Cheng, but he came to realize those ghosts actually liked him. And the Crown Prince, despite still being a bit baffled by the obscene food and lack of hygienic conditions, enjoyed spending time with them. They were a fun company, truly.
Sure, he still couldn't forget the clamorous incident with Lan Chang. Even Hua Cheng didn't let him live that down, if only for just a little bit. So embarrassing...!
Seemingly without a care in the world, they walked around for probably hours, hand in hand; Xie Lian would often stop to exchange some words with the ghosts, even bought a mantou from a small shop a ghost opened with the utmost care for hygienic procedures – he claimed many times before he was willing to be that considerate for their favorite granduncle – but more than anything he enjoyed Hua Cheng's company.
They were always together – well, almost – but he couldn't get tired of him.
Maybe, over time, they would spend less time together. Maybe they would never change their ways. Xie Lian didn't know, and didn't want to think about it. For the time being, he loved him too much to think of being apart.
«Let's go back? You should be hungry».
It was getting late, the ghostly red glow growing just a bit dimmer as night started to fall, so Hua Cheng nodded towards Paradise Manor: «I'm sure Yin Yu is dying to have a chat with you».
Xie Lian snorted. Yin Yu was a normally quiet and humble person, but he always turned a bit more talkative around Xie Lian. Not too much, but enough for a faint smile to appear on his face.
He knew the man had a troublesome past, Hua Cheng told him he used to be close to none other than Quan YiZhen, but the Crown Prince made his resolution to never bring anything up. Yin Yu needed a friend, not someone who asked around too much and made him uncomfortable.
It took some time, but Xie Lian succeeded in befriending him. Hua Cheng had been a bit jealous at first, even if he loved to deny it, but Xie Lian was happy to have another friend and scolded him for being so impulsive. He then kissed the pout off of Hua Cheng's face, but at least he stopped being anxious.
"You act like E-Ming", he had told him, arms crossed and an amused expression plastered on his face. The slight indignation he received in return had been really difficult to face without laughing.
«If he asks us what happened in the temple, I'm telling you now, you will answer».
«Gege...!».