No.
No, no, no!
It had to be a fucking joke! It had to be!
The place Jun Wu told them to go first, to start their investigation, was literally...
«What the fuck is going on?», Feng Xin took a step back, horrified, mind already flooded by hundreds of unpleasant memories. It was a dilapidated shack, almost completely claimed by moss and plants, but no less recognizable. It was clear someone else had to have lived in there, for it to still exist after eight hundred years – it was nothing but a wooden house, how long could it have survived without care? – but now it was empty.
Almost gone, the wood eaten away, half-collapsed on itself.
It was still the same fucking house Feng Xin had to live in, before Xie Lian went completely mad thanks to Bai WuXiang.
«You don't think... you don't think that temple could be one of His Highness, right?», he tentatively asked, moving careful steps to see if it was still possible to go inside the house. It wasn't something he thought about, that they could find themselves before a remnant of the old temples Xie Lian counted under his name. Now it seemed more plausible than not.
Mu Qing wanted to nod, because yes, he thought it was possible, but as soon as he placed a single foot inside what was left of that house, he recoiled back with a hiss. The same did Feng Xin, though he did it with far less grace and ended up hitting a rotten beam in his step back, making even more of the structure crumble.
«What is this!?», the god exclaimed, looking down at his foot as if it got burned. «Why is there so much lingering resentment? Who died in here?».
It wasn't something visible. It was also something that human tenants surely missed, after taking over the house for themselves. But it hit Mu Qing with the strength of divine wind, knowing the wind out of him. it was also old, too old to belong to someone that came after Xie Lian left.
Mu Qing wasn't the best when it came to examination of resentful traces, that description fitted other officials much better, but even he was able to recognize it was something that waited there for eight hundred years.
«I don't know, I... no one was dead when I left», Feng Xin compulsively shook his head, staring at the ruins of the house with red-rimmed eyes. And he kept staring until something struck him, and he swallowed dry, hands starting to shake: «Mu Qing», the god called for his companion, unable to look away from rotten wooden beams as he spoke. «How did Xie Lian's parents die?».
He even forgot to call him by his title.
It couldn't be his fault, right? Xie Lian did look completely out of it, the day he came back from fuck knew where, but... there was no way he killed his parents. He loved them, there was no way!
But if they died of natural causes, then why all that resentment was still there, lingering, waiting to be found? People who died of old age rarely left the world of the living with so many scattered pieces refusing to follow.
Now positively scared of an answer, Feng Xin turned to look at Mu Qing and grabbed him by the collar of his robes: «How did they die?!», he almost yelled in his face, shaking him back and forth, shock making his fingers go numb. «Don't tell me he did this. I could have stayed, don't tell me he...».
He couldn't say much else after that, all words cut off by the sharp, familiar pain of Mu Qing's fist colliding with his face, the hit producing a cut high on his cheekbone.
For once, he didn't fight back.
Chasing away tears that threatened to wet his eyes, Mu Qing massaged the back of his hand after the blow and let out a painfully harsh breath: «Don't jump to conclusions, we have no idea what happened», he said, voice cutting through like a blade would cut living flesh. «For all we know, they could have died of an illness». Or killed themselves. That, he didn't add out loud.
He didn't feel like there was any need to ass more fuel to the fire.
«This is nothing harmful», Mu Qing waved his other hand. «Let's go investigate. We'll ask some civilians before going to the temple, this is a field you're more experienced in than me».
After all, it was Feng Xin who spent most of his time in the mortal realm, he knew how to deal with common people more than him. Which was ironical, given their opposite backgrounds. Mu Qing had grown so much into the lifestyle of the heavens than even his youth as a commoner seemed more like a dream than anything else, now. At least on the surface.
After receiving an agreement from Feng Xin, they both changed appearance, looking much younger and far less intimidating in their Nan Feng and Fu Yao skins. It was needed for Mu Qing, especially, because while Feng Xin could easily waltz into a village or a city with his real appearance on display without being recognized, he couldn't. His statues were too well crafted, so his face was plastered all over in his temples. The last thing they needed was to lose time because someone looked at Mu Qing in the face and started screaming "god! god!" at the top of their lungs.
Amusing, but unneeded.
At sundown they set foot in a small city. They deliberately avoided the one that was much closer to the dilapidated shack, as it was the same one Feng Xin and Xie Lian used to go to when they needed money, but the reason wasn't just that. The settlement they were in now wasn't as far from the temple as that other city, so it was easier to gather some gossip about recent happenings.
However, Mu Qing realized with a grimace, it was also a city that built temples dedicated to Hua Cheng.
«Why here, of all places? This city isn't even five hundred years old, I thought the majority of his worshippers came from much older generations», he wondered, more thinking out loud than anything else. He didn't expect an answer from Feng Xin, so he wasn't surprised when nothing was said in response.
The temple they stumbled upon wasn't even bad looking, he had to give it to those people who built it, but neither him nor Feng Xin dared go in.
Two heavenly officials entering a temple dedicated to a Ghost King wasn't exactly the smartest idea in the world, that much was sure.
«See if you can find a place for us to stay the night», Feng Xin interfered with the other god's thoughts, diverting his attention from the temple. «There's no point in going to the forest today, we need to know something useful about it first».
Not that they needed to sleep, but it was nice to have a place to go back to, in case something went wrong or just to wait the night out. Heavenly officials normally used their own temples as a shelter, or if necessity called for the temple of another god, but since it was impossible for Feng Xin and Mu Qing to use the one dedicated to Crimson Rain Sought Flower an inn was probably their best choice.
«I'll go scout for information», he said, nodding towards a homely tavern bustling with activity. «No need for you to deal with so many people».
After settling that, Feng Xin headed towards the tavern and only glanced briefly at the name of it before entering. Immediately, his ears were assaulted by intense chattering and the annoying sound of people chewing on food and gossiping while drinking liquor. Nothing did the melodious music of a pipa coming from somewhere inside the place, it only added to the confusion rather than softening it with skillfully played notes.
Feng Xin thanked his foresight for sending Mu Qing away on a different mission, he would have bolted out of that tavern as soon as he stepped foot in it. It was too chaotic and loud, not a trace of orderly behavior in sight, the exact opposite of what Mu Qing was used to deal with by that point.
Gone were the days where he had to endure all that mess, Feng Xin was well aware of it. He didn't fault him for that, either.
But, he wasn't there to mull over such meaningless things. He was there to find information, and he had the perfect method to do so. When one of the workers of the tavern approached, Feng Xin put on his friendliest face and asked for a table and the strongest liquor they could give him. Strongest, and most expensive.
Watching the delight on the man's face as he trotted away with his order was already a win. It was relatively easy to get information out of tavern workers and owners, a little bit of money and they were ready to spill out whatever was needed.
Mu Qing couldn't have helped with that, unless they wanted to waste some perfectly fine liquor.
As soon as the man came back with a tray holding a glazed jar, Feng Xin leaned with his elbow on the low table and nodded at him: «Say, won't you tell a foreigner cultivator what all the voices of ghosts are about?».
Key words: "foreigner" and "cultivator".
One was the promise of spilling more money than necessary out of him, the other the allure of having someone who could deal with their issues.
«With all due respect, sir, you don't look like a cultivator».
Feng Xin smiled and flicked his fingers, using a smidge of his spiritual energy to create some fire on his palm: «I'm one for a more... ah, hands-on approach», he said, putting out the flames as he spoke. «Punching ghosts in the face is more effective than many other methods, when you know how to do it».
If only that man knew how many martial gods just straight up brawled with ghosts and monsters rather than using weapons, surely he would be stunned out of his mind. But the trick worked, and with Feng Xin neatly piling pieces of gold on the table, it didn't take long for the worker to eye the prize and talk.
Half an hour later, Feng Xin grabbed his jar of liquor, thanked the man who just spent a good chunk of his work hours gossiping about ghosts, and headed out to find the inn where Mu Qing got them a room.
He didn't like what he learned, not one bit, but at least the liquor was good, strong enough to leave a burning sensation as he drank it, and with enough flavor for it to be pleasant.
"Where the fuck is your inn?".
Of course he had to be rude about it. Mu Qing almost went back downstairs to get two rooms instead of one, but he simply rolled his eyes and raised a hand to his temple: "It's not even two streets away from where you went, can you not sense my presence anymore?".
The spiritual footprint of a heavenly official was strong enough to be easy to find, when unconcealed. Mu Qing never made an effort to hide his presence, there was no need for it; Feng Xin should have found him in seconds, with how familiar they both were with each other.
Good question with a disturbing answer.
He couldn't.
"Maybe it's because this city is Crimson Rain's territory", Feng Xin guessed, his feet finally walking in the right direction. "If this disturbance is caused by whatever lurks in that forest, this might be a bigger problem than I already think it is".
And in that forest, according to the man he interrogated in the tavern, there seemed to be an awful lot of spirits, at least one hundred. They haunted the woods, roaming aimlessly during the day but screaming in agony during the night. The bravest fools of the city tried to explore the forest and came back after a whole day, completely white in the face, shivering in terrible fear; the majority of them could only speak of a broken down temple being the probable reason of that haunting, because all the spirits kept going back to that place.
Some of them, the ones who came back more traumatized than anyone else, even told of how they could hear the roaring flames of an uncontrolled fire, at nighttime. And it was even more terrifying, scarring even, hearing the fire and the wails all together. It painted the picture of dozens of people dying as they burned alive, who knew how many years prior. Feng Xin could almost smell the awful stench of burning human flesh, his nose already accustomed to it from the horrors of the war.
Telling Mu Qing took only a couple minutes. The rest of the night, one sitting on the bed and the other meditating cross-legged on the floor, they spent thinking and reflecting.
From how they were described, those spirits didn't actually seem malignant or resentful. No civilian, aside from ending up scared out of their wits, ever got hurt thanks to them. Not even those who dared go closer than it was wise to.
Were those spirits simply seeking peace because they met a gruesome end, or where they searching for a viable target to finally become dangerous?
Feng Xin sincerely hoped it was the first reason, but deep down he knew nothing was ever that simple.
Back in their true appearance, they set out again at the first lights of the morning. During the night, both him and Mu Qing could actually hear the faint screams they had been warned about, and it was easy to understand why everyone was bloody terrified. They managed to endure one of the easy nights, because according to the locals it wasn't that common for those hours to be so quiet. Who knew how disturbing the wails of dozens of spirits could be, for simple mortals.
«They tried to ask for help from cultivators, but the only ones who accepted for a reasonable price weren't able to anything», Feng Xin explained some more, sharing insight he got that morning from the innkeeper, while Mu Qing reported back to Ling Wen what they already discovered. The kind man even went into detail, describing how efficient those cultivators clad in blue and silver had been with no lack of praise, but they still could do nothing to calm the storm that apparently broke out in that temple.
«Did they discover something useful?», Mu Qing asked, one hand nervously resting on the handle of his saber. They were approaching the forest, towering trees with ominous grey bark and deep green leaves, and an intense, bothersome feeling of uneasiness was spreading in his chest. From afar, the forest didn't look menacing, and neither it looked out of the ordinary. The more they got near it, though, the less normal it seemed, as if it was drenched in wickedness, as if resentment and evil was what nurtured trees and plants.
Feng Xin shook his head, hand gripping his bow so hard all his knuckles were bone white: «Nothing too useful. Just that these spirits are at least eight hundred years old», he replied, eyes darting around at every hint of movement. «I don't know what to think. It's not like those cultivators were a bunch of imposters or amateurs, they came from a well-established sect. They even tried to set up a barrier to keep the spirits inside, but it didn't work».
He wanted to add something else, but his eyes caught sight of something definitely not human right that moment. In the blink of an eye, Feng Xin had one arrow ready to be released, and Mu Qing had unsheathed his saber.
Where the forest started thickening, trees growing closer together and less light filtering through, hobbling figures could be seen here and there, stumbling around as if lost. At a first glance, nothing seemed to be wrong with them. Aside from the blatant fact they were spirits and not living people, all of them looked like a bunch of strange and confused men and women trying to find a way out of the forest, dressed in clothing that followed a style Feng Xin was more than familiar with.
However, a closer look gifted a horrifying sight. The faces of all of them looked distorted in terror, twisted in agony, or wickedly shaped in expressions of utter desperation. Many had their clothes drenched in blood, others had it dripping from their hands.
«None of them seem to be injured», Feng Xin noticed, daring to walk closer to one of the spirits covered in blood to take a better look. «Have these people killed somebody?».
There was no other viable explanation to the blood. Some had drops of it on their faces as well, but it looked like splatters than landed on the skin from somewhere else, rather than from a bleeding wound of that same person.
Perplexed, Mu Qing shot a sideway glance at his companion, unwilling to let his guard down: «Maybe it's why they've been burned alive, if the stories about the fire are true», he reckoned, not knowing what else to think. «Should we try to dissipate them?».
«I doubt Jun Wu would have chosen two major martial gods for this mission if it was that easy», Feng Xin cursed under his breath at the realization. No wonder those cultivators couldn't do anything, the threat was far greater than it looked.
Just for good measure, though, he nodded at Mu Qing and they both went for separate targets. Mu Qing swung his saber at a wobbly middle-aged man with hands dyed red in blood, and Feng Xin shot an arrow at a woman with empty eyes. Unsurprisingly, their weapons simply didn't do anything. Mu Qing's zhanmadao slashed through nothing, as if the blow had been directed to thin air instead, and the arrow lodged itself deep in the tree trunk behind the intended target.
«Well, now what?».
«Let's find this temple», Mu Qing nodded towards the thick of the forest. «Maybe there's something more inside».
Finding nothing to say against it, Feng Xin nodded his agreement and the two kept going, weapons still drawn despite their uselessness. The more they walked inside the woods, the eerier the atmosphere around them became. Footsteps cracking a bit too loudly on fallen leaves, shadows darker and deeper, trees that seemed to wither and decay as they approached their destination. There were no sounds of nature, from a certain point onwards, no sporadic chirping of birds, not even the buzzing of insect or the quiet murmur of a gentle breeze.
Dead leaves moved in the wind with no sound accompanying them, as if someone had suddenly muted every single noise that wasn't the faint whispering of spirits.
Mu Qing even raised a hand to fiddle with his ears at some point, bothered by the lack of sound all around.
Then, all of a sudden, a spine-chilling voice echoed inside his hears, sending violent shivers down his spine, as if someone had just drenched him in freezing water.
«Do you know what this place is?».
Mu Qing's head whipped around so fast he would have given himself whiplash if not for his heavenly body, but aside from Feng Xin acting just as suddenly panicked, there was nothing. In fact, all the spirits roaming around before seemed to be gone, although the whispers increased in intensity, more discernible words making their way through a barrage of nonsense.
Worried, with a grip on his zhanmadao that could have put to shame the most resolute of the soldiers, Mu Qing turned to look at Feng Xin.
He tried to talk to him through their communication array, but the god realized with horror that it was completely closed off, impossible to use. So, for lack of better options, he resorted to mouth a question at him: «Do we answer?».
Slowly, looking unsure himself, Feng Xin looked around and nodded. Mu Qing took a deep breath: «You don't know what place this is?», he asked, feet still moving him forward. «How did you come here?».
«I got lost! Lost I say! I walked and walked and walked, but I just can't seem to get out!».
Now Mu Qing was way more worried than he was before. If all those people had been killed because they murdered somebody, then... why was that spirit so panicked? If he came to the temple by accident, what about the others?
Were they all victims, instead of perpetrators? Or were they both, and there was no saving them?
«What do we do?», he mouthed at Feng Xin again, unwilling to speak out loud in such a situation.
In response, Feng Xin simply gestured towards the clearing that started to open in the direction they were walking. The temple was probably there, waiting to be discovered, so stalling or going back was no use. Having zero ideas on what was happening around them was distressing on a level Feng Xin hadn't really experienced since the days of Xie Lian's first banishment, but they had a mission; Jun Wu entrusted them with a task, and they needed to complete it. No matter how terrifying it seemed.
Not even three steps later, a new voice spoke up, no less dreadful than the other, if only because it sounded cheerful.
«Hey buddies! What place is this?».
Feng Xin swallowed dry. Were they listening to the last words of those people? Or were those spirits forcing them to live through some of their last memories?
From then on, every step they took was accompanied by a voice speaking in their ears, one after the other. Men, women, children, all kinds kept talking in their whispers, causing goosebumps to appear on Feng Xin's skin. He was a martial god, used to the most wretched sights and the bloodiest scenes, but that was more than enough to set a sense of uneasiness difficult to shrug off.
They kept coming, talking of how they got lost, reasons innumerous and bizarre. One said he was just strolling down the street and got lost all the way there, another cried she simply wanted to walk to a nearby village and found herself away from any known road.
From their talk, it was easy to understand they were all ordinary people, more than it had been by looking at their clothes.
The more they approached the temple, now finally visible through the screen of dead leaves and skinny branches, the louder the voices became, until the crowd raise a bustling noise made of random chatting.
Feng Xin almost wanted to drop the bow and cover his ears with both hands.
«Did you also end up here for no reason?».
«This place reeks of evil, why are we here?».
«We should try to find a way out!».
There were so many, but Feng Xin still managed to count them. In total, there were maybe ninety-nine people. The god listened intently, trying to discern between the different voices, but no matter how he counted, the number stayed the same.
So, the spirits haunting the temple were just short of a hundred. Definitely not good news, such a large quantity of resentful beings was never easy to deal with.
Then, Feng Xin and Mu Qing stepped inside the clearing where the broken down temple stood, and a curse slipped through the former's lips. At first sight it looked like any old temple of the mountains, abandoned and neglected to the point of nature claiming every nook and cranny, but they both saw enough of those structures to recognize that one immediately.
Turned out, they were right in their assumption. It was a Crown Prince temple.
Feng Xin had to take a moment to recollect himself, and apparently so needed Mu Qing. It had been... how much time? All those eight centuries? Less? since the day they saw Xie Lian's temples burn and be pillaged. Seeing another one, seeing the establishment plaque fallen on the ground and broken in half, knocked the breath out of their lungs.
He remembered those days, when they would constantly stumble upon a temple being burned. Xie Lian never really said anything about it after the initial days, just kept walking with an ashen face, but at the time Feng Xin and Mu Qing had no idea of how terrible and painful losing all one's temples and worshippers could be. They hadn't ascended yet, and Xie Lian never truly vocalized his distress in front of them, not to the point of making them truly wear all of his anguish.
But now, looking back, Feng Xin wanted to smash his head against a wall for not trying to comfort him enough, to support him enough, while he witnessed what he built with such a radiant smile crumble to pieces.
After pausing for a moment, the two martial gods lifted their feet and crossed over the broke establishment plaque, Feng Xin wincing as he did so. No matter how distant Xie Lian now was, from both them and the heavens in their entirety, it still seemed incredibly disrespectful.
When they entered the temple, Feng Xin couldn't help it and cursed out loud again, very colorfully. The divine statue within the great hall was of course gone, who knew if smashed or burned, and the altar was empty and desolate. On either side, deep slashes crossed the words "body in abyss, heart in paradise", a savage depiction of mindless violence.
But the reason Feng Xin cursed was another.
From the outside, aside from its terrible conditions, the temple didn't seem to be in awful conditions. In fact, it was still standing, which was surprising all in itself.
But the inside...
Feng Xin was convinced the temple only still existed because of those spirits haunting it, preventing it from collapsing into a heap of debris.
The walls, the floor, everything was black, all the murals, all the broken tiles, nothing was spared. The interior was charred, burned to the bone, all the wood beams vanished in ashes and the stone etched with flames.
No wonder those poor civilians spoke of a fire, they had proof plastered right in front of their eyes to confirm it wasn't just some sort of hallucination.
Even worse, when Feng Xin tentatively walked up to the altar, a sudden flash of images passed in front of his eyes, making him take a step back in horror so fast he actually tripped and had to be caught by Mu Qing, else he would have fallen. For a split second, he saw that burned altar being completely covered in blood, to the point of it dripping on the floor, viscous and bright red.
«What the fuck is this?!», he all but yelled, frantically looking around. «Did you see it? have I gone fucking crazy?».
To hell the intention of not talking out loud. Those spirits could be damned for all he cared, Feng Xin just wanted to know what the hell happened.
«I saw it».
In fact, Mu Qing felt a bit nauseous himself, after seeing that. Not because of the blood in itself, he was more than used to it.
No, it was because of the implications of what they just saw. Was somebody sacrificed on that altar? Did they stumble upon something much darker than anyone could have ever imagined? But if so, why were all those spirits confused about the place they were at?
If they had been part of some sort of despicable ritual, surely they knew what the place was, unless...
«Do you think all these people have been lured here by someone else?», he asked Feng Xin, dubious. «It still doesn't explain why they burned alive. If they killed to appease their captor, however, why were they all murdered afterwards?
It made no sense.
There was no line of demarcation between victim and assailant, and pieces of the puzzle were still missing. How were they supposed to do anything, with so little information and close to no way of gaining more? what happened there took place eight hundred years prior, no one aside from gods and ghost was still around.
...
Wait.
«Feng Xin... has Xie Lian ever come here?».
The very first answer that came to mind was "no". Feng Xin didn't recall anything about a temple in the woods, much less about Xie Lian visiting it. However, Xie Lian also disappeared for three months while they were in that area, and came back looking out of his wits, with an unfamiliar black sword hanging on his back and refusing to say anything about what he did or what happened around him.
«I... I don't know», he said, voice trembling as if he was a kid waiting for a scolding. «He ran away once, but he never told me what happened. I left».
After punching him in the face, no less.
Had Xie Lian been a victim of whatever went down in that temple? Had he actually lost him mind and been the one who caused it?
There were no answers.
Not a single one.
«We should probably call him».
«Crimson Rain's going to kill us, if Xie Lian got hurt here», Mu Qing sighed, although he could see no other solution. They could wait until nightfall, to see what the spirits would do, but seeing the state of that temple was enough for them to believe the gossip coming from the common folk.
On top of that, all the spirits seemed to have vanished. It was already late, enough for the voices to rise, but since they stepped inside the temple nothing out of the ordinary happened. Save for the altar appearing covered in blood.
It was possible that the spirits finally sensed the presence of two heavenly officials that had nothing to do with their woes, and refused to appear as long as they were present. It wouldn't be exactly weird for a phenomenon.
Not that there were better choices. Mu Qing sighed again, sheathed his zhanmadao, and nodded towards the doors: «Let's go back to the city and give him a call. We can't use our communication arrays in this forest».
The walk back was uneventful. As soon as they left, many spirits started roaming the woods again, and their voices picked up in volume, but it was just another confirmation of how nothing worthy of note was going to happen as long as the two heavenly officials stayed in the temple.
Annoying, very much so, but unable to be helped.
Feng Xin fell with his back on the bed, ignoring Mu Qing telling him to scram from it, and looked at him with a scowl: «We still don't know why we can't use our communication array there. We're martial gods, it shouldn't be so easy to suppress our power this way».
Now that he thought better about it, it was far more worrying than he believed at first.
«Maybe there's just so many spirits and so much resentment lingering around here that it's affecting our abilities», Mu Qing shrugged out a response, although he wasn't less worried than Feng Xin. «Something vile happened in that temple. It wouldn't be surprising the damage is in the numbers, and not in the individual strength».
Like one single person trying to hold someone big and strong down compared to a crowd of people doing the same. One wasn't enough to overpower someone stronger, but many could easily succeed.
It was possible that one of those spirits couldn't even hold enough strength to make a scratch in a martial god's abilities, but so many all at once could easily hinder them.
That, plus whatever was haunting the forest itself, because Mu Qing didn't believe the woods held nothing of their own between leaves and branches.
After taking off his armor and placing the zhanmadao on the ground, for a lack of better places to put it, Mu Qing brushed a hand over his face and sighed: «Call Xie Lian. I can't do it myself». He didn't think Xie Lian would actually care too much if he was the one calling, and Hua Cheng was an even bigger problem. Between the two, of course he loathed Mu Qing the most, so it was counterproductive for the god to be one giving it a try.
For once, Feng Xin didn't object. As bad as it sounded, it was really better for him to be the one contacting Xie Lian, knowing their backgrounds.
So, even if a bit anxious, he raised a hand to his temple and pressed two fingers there, quietly reciting the password to Xie Lian's communication array and hoping for the best.
"Feng Xin? What happened?".
The martial god looked at Mu Qing in stunned surprise, and hurried a response: "Your Highness, we're currently in the middle of a mission assigned to us by the Emperor", he quickly explained. "We were hoping you could lend us a helping hand".
"Uh? Is Mu Qing there too? Why do you need my help?".
The dubious tone of Xie Lian's words almost made Feng Xin falter, but he kept his resolution up: "The issue is taking place in the area where we used to live when... after we left the Capital", he caught himself, though there wasn't really a way to dance around the problem. "Almost a hundred spirits causing problems in a forest. We're unable to deal with them, they don't show up after sensing our presence and being in the forest itself locks the majority of our spiritual powers. We though... maybe you know something about it. There's also a temple of the Crown Prince in the woods".
After that, a long pause on Xie Lian's side made Feng Xin fear he wouldn't even consider helping them. But the Crown Prince was still there, and he wasn't closing communication between them, so there was still hope.
Feng Xin waited for the time of incense stick before receiving an answer from Xie Lian. He probably should have worried about it, but he was so concerned about the state of their mission that noticing something amiss slipped out of his mind.
"We'll both come there. Me and San Lang. Don't do anything until we're there, stay where you are".
Relieved, although not at all convinced everything was right given the urgency with which Xie Lian spoke the last order, Feng Xin thanked him and closed the array, looking at Mu Qing immediately after: «He's coming with Hua Cheng. We just need to wait».
It wasn't exactly a relief, having Crimson Rain around, but at the same time it couldn't really hurt them to have a ghost on their team. Well, on Xie Lian's team, at least. He could easily do something to locate the heart of the issue, knowing how powerful he was, and knowing he would definitely listen to what Xie Lian told him to do.
Might be a shitty way to take advantage of someone, but if it solved their problem without creating a dangerous situation for the common folk Feng Xin was willing to go through with it.
«You know this could end up really badly for us, right?», Mu Qing interjected, sitting down on the bed and leaning with both elbows on his knees. «If something bad really happened to Xie Lian here, and Hua Cheng thinks we're willingly hurting him by making him help us, we're done for. He'll kill us».
«He won't kill us if it goes against His Highness wishes».
Mu Qing scoffed and rolled his eyes at that: «I really, really hope you're right. Because if something happened to Xie Lian here, and it happened while you were still living with him, Crimson Rain would do the same to you».
He didn't believe for a second the ghost wouldn't.
As if he needed a reminder. Feng Xin remember more than perfectly the downfall of those thirty-three heavenly officials, and the unbelievable luck he and Mu Qing had thank to them refusing to take up the challenge.
He could only hope for Xie Lian to keep his husband calm and collected, at the end of the day. Hua Cheng wasn't exactly unhinged and merciless as many stories made him seem, but he could be even worse than that if Xie Lian's safety was on the line. Only a fool would not realize it.
«No use in getting upset before there's a reason to», Feng Xin said, giving up the argument. «We'll gather more information tomorrow, and see what happens from there».
Xie Lian and Hua Cheng made their appearance four days later, at the crack of dawn, directly in the room the two martial gods rented at the inn.
Mu Qing, who was in the middle of his meditation, cracked open an eye and had to do a double take, not fully understanding what he was seeing. Xie Lian and Hua Cheng, although they seemed well at a first glance, were definitely not fine.
Xie Lian was as pale as a corpse, if not more. There was a sickly shade of gray to his skin, not a trace of the pinkish tint that made his delicate face stand out among a plain crowd, and his eyes were constantly darting back and forth, pupils shrunk and the white rimmed with a faint trace of red. What truly shocked Mu Qing, though, wasn't that; Feng Xin did tell him how tremendously worried Xie Lian seemed, while talking to him, so he kind of expected the Crown Prince not to look his best self, but...
He was dressed in black, head to toe, not a single trace of color in sight. Not only that, his robes were tight, no hints of the flowing cultivator or noble robes he preferred. He even kept his arms close to his body, one of them nervously gripping the handle of FangXin.
For some reason, Mu Qing had the impression that Xie Lian was afraid something – or someone – might suddenly grab a hold of him if he so much relaxed a little bit. Unfortunately, that feeling confirmed Mu Qing and Feng Xin's fears, of Xie Lian having probably been in that temple when whatever disaster they needed to deal with went down.
The only sliver of white he could see was Ruoye, coiled around Xie Lian's neck but almost impossible to notice thanks to the high collar of his robes.
Hua Cheng, on the other hand... he couldn't be paler than he already was, being dead and all, but he certainly looked like more deceased than usual. In his visible eye there was a mix of anger and – to Mu Qing's surprise – something akin to desperation, a kind of torment he often saw in those who were traumatized by the war.
Much like Xie Lian, he wasn't dressed in his usual colors either, being instead clad in black and silver, which only added to the bizarre situation unfolding in that unusual mission.
«Thank you for coming», Feng Xin addressed them, putting down his bow. Over the years he had developed a habit of fiddling with it, for lack of other outlets when nervousness got a hold of him, but he didn't want to approach Hua Cheng with a weapon in hand.
The looks on his and Xie Lian's face were already worrying enough on their own.
«I apologize for the sudden call, but there's no one else that could help us with this issue», he added, making sure to add a formal bow to his words. After all, they weren't involved in undercover shenanigans; it was a serious issue with unforeseeable consequences, and the reason they contacted Xie Lian in the first place was far from being pleasant for him.
Xie Lian waved a hand in dismissal: «No need for that», he said, though his voice sounded a bit strained. «We took some time to come anyway».
Of course, he didn't tell Feng Xin the reason why they took so much time, which was the fact that Xie Lian almost fell prey of centuries old panic, and that Hua Cheng hadn't felt much better.
When Feng Xin called and told him they were dealing with spirits lurking around an abandoned temple of the Crown Prince, immediately Xie Lian jumped straight back to the past, to the hundred swords, to Bai WuXiang laughing, to his filthy hands holding him up as men and women stabbed him with FangXin over and over. He had to thank the spiritual communication array's inability to show one's face to whoever was calling, because it didn't take long for tears to form and fall from his eyes.
Even vaguely recalling the memory was too painful for his mind to fully comprehend.
«So», the god cleared his throat, sneaking a glance at the foul mood of his husband. «Shall we go now?».
«Gege, you don't have to», Hua Cheng reminded his beloved, not bothering to lower his voice or use their communication array to talk.
In fact, both of them didn't have to be there. They shouldn't be there. The ghost wasn't less scared than Xie Lian, even if he masked his discomfort just a slight bit better to avoid looking weak in front of those two pathetic officials.
The only thing he really wanted to do was to grab Feng Xin and beat him up until nothing was left of him, for calling Xie Lian to that place, and to those memories. While he had a way bigger bone to pick with Mu Qing, a tremendously bigger one in fact, Feng Xin abandoned Xie Lian right after he came back from being stabbed almost a hundred times. In all honesty, the ghost didn't care about his reasons, or about how Xie Lian didn't really blame him for leaving; he just wanted to make him suffer just like his beloved did.
The only reason he wasn't beating him up there and then was Xie Lian's sincere wish to help, since it was an issue that involved the common folk.
Knowing his husband didn't want to be there just as much as him, Xie Lian grabbed his hand and held it tight: «We'll try to make this quick, I have no desire to stay».
And if he saw the hurt in Feng Xin and Mu Qing's eyes at those words, he couldn't bring himself to feel guilty about it. Not that time.
«Tell me what happened while we walk, we're not going to use the dice to teleport there», the Crown Prince gave an order, as they headed out. «I want to take a look at the place to see if there's something important you missed».
Namely, the man that refused to stab him despite having been infected by the Human Face Disease. Xie Lian knew he died not too long after fleeing; he wanted to check if his soul was wandering around the forest as well, or if he moved on instead of becoming trapped on that plane of existence. He sincerely hoped for the latter, that man had showed a more sincere heart than any other person in that temple.
Even if he seemed like an uneducated, rude man at first, given the context in which Xie Lian met him.
And so, Feng Xin and Mu Qing took their time to explain in detail what they discovered by talking to the citizens, and what they saw with their own eyes. With every word, the restless feeling growing inside Xie Lian's chest became more and more insistent, clawing at him from beneath his skin; it was becoming increasingly more obvious that they were, in fact, dealing with the same exact place Xie Lian dreaded the existence of more than anything else.
Even Hua Cheng, walking silently on the god's side, was trembling under the weight of those information, his hand clasping Xie Lian's with so much force a normal human's would have turned to shattered bones.
«You said the voices stopped when you entered the temple?», Xie Lian asked, staring at the wall of trees now towering above him. «You weren't followed inside?».
Mu Qing shook his head, hand firmly resting on his sword as his eyes darted left and right: «They kept talking as if they were lost, conversing with each other, but they stopped as soon as we entered», he confirmed, now talking quickly. «We don't know what caused that behavior, we can only make guesses».
They couldn't know, obviously. Xie Lian made sure, with methodical care, that they couldn't. Those spirits weren't looking for them, it was useless for them to haunt two martial gods that had nothing to do with what happened in the past. They were bystanders, so the temple didn't hold any danger for them.
The same was for any cultivator or common person that stumbled upon the forest or wanted to explore it, no harm was done to those who had no name in the issue.
Xie Lian opened his mouth, wanting to order his former attendants to stay out of the forest, but then decided against it. Such an order, while it could possibly be followed by the two, would not only put Mu Qing and Feng Xin in a difficult situation with the Emperor, it would also spark more questions than Xie Lian had answers for.
As far as he could understand on his own, both Feng Xin and Mu Qing were suspicious of what happened there; there was no need to add more fuel to the fire.
Not on purpose, at least.
Took a deep, grounding breath, Xie Lian exchanged a look with his husband and walked right inside the forest, under the thickening cover of the trees. The eerie feeling surrounding him felt somewhat familiar, and the god already had goosebumps forming on his skin, all the hair on the back of his neck standing up.
It looked different, of course, but there was no mistaken. None.
Same place, same story.
Xie Lian wanted to turn around and run, run as fast as he could, run so far he couldn't even think about that place anymore, until his lungs burned for air and his legs hurt for the strain.
And, by his side, Hua Cheng wasn't better.
The further they walked inside the forest, the more uneasy the ghost became, turning his head at the slightest hint of sound, E-Ming gleaming silver in his hand, its red eye madly spinning as it tried to keep track of all the activity surrounding them. It didn't help his panic the fact that he couldn't summon his butterflies.
When he quietly tried, just to have the ability to scout ahead or have at least one more layer of protection, not a single one could be called.
Being unable to control his own powers to their fullest plunged Hua Cheng in a deep sense of dread mixed with panic, something akin to what he felt when he was nothing but a ghost fire, trying desperately to stop Xie Lian from walking to the temple. He could almost see it in front of him, the wall of fire he painstakingly put together in a weak attempt to protect his beloved, only to be destroyed as if it were nothing but a barrier of flies.
Without his butterflies he felt robbed, borderline useless. He couldn't put up a barrier to protect his beloved, without them. Hua Cheng was never going to say it out loud, but whatever lurked in that forest latched onto his spiritual powers and drained him of them, to the point of making him feel the weak self of his past once again.
«Gege... this is dangerous, we-».
«We can fight together», the god tried to reassure him, though he wasn't really certain of his words himself. As soon as they stepped under the dull green of treetops, he understood they were in danger. Hua Cheng's hand was shaking, barely kept still by Xie Lian's grasp on it.
They were both being stripped of their powers, more than Feng Xin and Mu Qing. They seemed calm, exceedingly so compared to what one should be upon feeling their energies drained.
«It's only targeting us», Xie Lian dejectedly said, wishing with all his might he could talk with Hua Cheng using their array. Mu Qing and Feng Xin were burning holes in his backs with their stares, he didn't need to turn around to check to know they were confused and worried at the same time.
Feng Xin strengthened his grip on the bow: «What do you mean?», he asked, his gaze moving back and forth from Hua Cheng to Xie Lian. «Only targeting you? What's happening?».
Once again, Xie Lian opened his mouth to talk, maybe spit out some kind of excuse to avoid the two martial gods from instinctively panicking, but no sound came out. Instead, a voice came from around them, and Xie Lian froze on the spot upon recognizing not only the words themselves, but the situations in which they were spoken.
In shock, heavy breathing wrecking his lungs, Xie Lian violently shook his head and took several steps back, dragging Hua Cheng with him.
«Let's go, let's go! With so many of us, one would surely be able to get out!».
«It won't matter how much you walk», Xie Lian found himself saying, repeating word by word what he had said that same day, hundreds of years past. «There is no exit».
He wasn't being forced to say them. He still did. He still remembered.
Xie Lian started laughing, crying, horrified. It was a big deal, it didn't look like it, but for him... for him it was so much, too much.
Sending a look to a pair of bewildered, ashen-faced heavenly officials, Xie Lian let go of Hua Cheng's hand and started walking, running, slowing down and picking up speed with no rhyme or reason. Soon, figures started appearing all around him, all covered in blood, all terrified and devastated, all burned to the bone. A young man, an old woman, that child Xie Lian saw forced by his own parent to plunge Fang Xin deep into his body. He saw them all, remembered them all.
He didn't want to.
He didn't want to.
«No exit? How could there be no exit?».
Xie Lian heard running footsteps behind him, the familiar whistle of an arrow, the singing of a scimitar and a saber, but he didn't stop. He kept running and running, stepping around dead trees, until he suddenly breached through the thick of the woods and tripped on an establishment plaque.
His establishment plaque.
Of the only temple he ever wanted to see burned to nothing but ashes.
«How come there's no exit?».
«You were all led here by a monster», Xie Lian answered, raising both hands to his ears, knees hurting on the broken stone under them. There were tears streaming down his face, now, shoulders shaking with silent sobs as he shook his head in sorrow: «You're all his toys, why would he let you all go so easily?».
«A-Lian...».
Scared, Hua Cheng tried to approach his husband, a hand outstretched to reach him, but a swarm of spirits suddenly became aggressive and forcefully pushed him back, a wave so powerful it slung the ghost several feet back and had him fall hard on his back.
Stunned and disarmed, Hua Cheng tried to get up but that crowd of resentful spirits all congregated around him, forcing him down on his knees and powerless.
«Your Highness! A-Lian! Xie Lian!», he shouted, trying to break free, E-Ming nothing but a scrap of metal laying on burned grass. «Leave him alone! Don't touch him! Don't fucking touch him, stay back!».
What the fuck?!
Terrified, Feng Xin drew his bow and tried to find a target to hit, frantically looking to see if there was something, anything he could actually pierce with an arrow, but there was nothing but spirits.
«Mu Qing, do something!», he yelled at his companion, but as soon as his voice was out another wave of spirits converged around Xie Lian, as if urged on in their mission.
«Who are you?».
What kind of question, he was the Crown Prince of XianLe! The Crown Prince Who Please the Gods, the Flower Crown Martial God! He was the name the people called in their prayers, the light in the common folk's eyes, the beauty of fragrant flowers and sharp blades!
. . .
No.
No, he wasn't that anymore.
He was no one, nothing, no name and no glory, no light, nothing at all.
Actually, no. He wasn't nothing.
He was a murderer, a liar, a thief. He was the shame on everybody's mouth, the curse on yellow talismans, the plague no one wanted around. He was a collector of scraps, and a scrap himself, rejected by all the realms than once wanted and praised him.
«What do you know to say such a thing?».
Because he knew. He knew the white demon, his games, his tricks, his deceit. He knew how he liked to play, he knew his game of statues, where he would count down from three to one to see how far Xie Lian managed to move.
But they would never believe him, if he said.
Not anymore.
«He was the first one here! He was already sitting when I came!».
«His face is covered too... ».
And why wouldn't it be?
Xie Lian was a criminal. Criminals had no face, they couldn't show one. Bandages and a dirty cloth formed the face of a thief and a deceiver, not eyes and mouth.
But, at that point, why would Xie Lian even care?
Why did he have to care?
Why?
He didn't even feel RuoYe uncoil from his neck.
When he did, it was too late.
Both he and Hua Cheng were already being yanked inside the temple by the silk band, while Feng Xin and Mu Qing yelled out their names, their voices drowning in the deafening screams of dozens of spirits rising up in the building.
When the ghost was forced to kneel in front of the altar and the god was tied up on it, nothing was there to be done.
It had already started.
Xie Lian could only look at his husband with tears in his eyes before falling prey of the curse.