Chapter Text
Guoshi’s MASTER PLAN began in a gambler’s den backroom—seedy, poorly lit, the only fitting place for a shady deal like this one.
For a time, Guoshi waited on the other side of the desk—his eyes narrowed, one leg crossed over the other. In his lap, he was stroking a small cat spirit, who purred contentedly.
But before long, the beaded curtain to the room parted, and a guest entered.
“Ah,” Guoshi said delicately, scratching behind the cat’s ears. “So you’ve COME.”
“…” The visitor, a portly merchant ghost, stood there awkwardly. “…yeah. I mean, you asked me to come, so…”
“Silence,” Guoshi said, holding up a hand.
The ghost went silent.
Guoshi stood slightly, taking care not to spill the cat from his lap, reached underneath to pick up the chair, and clumsily scooched it around so that it faced the visitor. Then, he sat down again and resumed petting the cat.
“So?” he said. “Have you thought about my deal?”
“…I mean, yeah,” the ghost said, scratching behind his head. “You said you wanna rent my stall for a day, right? Sure, that’s—”
“Shhhh!” Guoshi hissed. “Not so loud.”
“…” The ghost furrowed his brow, lowering his voice to a whisper. “Um…okay. You just wanna rent my stall for a day, right?”
“That’s right,” Guoshi said. “But listen closely.”
“Okay.”
“You are to tell NOBODY of this.”
The ghost nodded. “Sure, that’s fine.”
“No, no, no, you don’t understand,” Guoshi insisted, leaning over the cat in his lap. “NOBODY!”
“Um…okay. I mean, I wasn’t really planning to, so...”
“For your compliance,” Guoshi said haughtily, “You’ll be paid handsomely.”
“Cool, thanks.” Suddenly, the ghost looked down. “Whoa, wait. Ol’ Mao?”
“Oh, hey,” the cat spirit in Guoshi’s lap said, in a human voice. “How are you?”
“What’re you doing here?”
“Well, I’m not entirely sure. This random guy just picked up off the street, I’m not sure what my role is in all this? All things considered, though, this situation has been pretty comfortable to bmmRRRRRRROWWWWWWW—”
Guoshi had thrown the thing from his lap, shuddering in terror and disgust.
THIS CITY—HE’S REALLY SICK TO DEATH OF IT!!!!!!
🖌️
And so, this is how Guoshi came to be waiting stiffly beside a particular stand in the ghost city market, disguised as an ordinary merchant. Tapping his fingers against his table. Watching.
Waiting.
As Guoshi was watching and waiting, however, an elderly ghost woman with a basket of turnips waddled by, then squinted at his cart. “Eh? What’re YOU sellin’?”
“You…shoo,” Guoshi sniffed, waving her away. “Nothing for you.”
“How d’you know I wouldn’t buy it, if ya don’t even tell me what it is?”
Guoshi gave the woman a once-over, looking her up and down, trying to figure out what was the least likely thing she’d want to buy. After a moment, thickening his face, he choked out:
“—sex toys. I’m selling—sex toys.”
The woman’s eyes brightened, and she reached for her coin pouch. “REALLY?”
Guoshi sputtered. “I—I mean—NOT FOR YOU! Shoo, shoo! Run along, now!”
“Aw, alright,” the woman said dejectedly, and scurried off.
Hrmm, Guoshi hadn’t considered this problem. He was a new face at a stand in the very center of ghost city; wouldn’t every curious ghost stop to ask, impeding his mission?
Just as he was thinking about the problem, it came true: an elderly ghost man stopped alongside him, glancing over his wares. “Hey, I ain’t seen ya here before! What’s for sale?”
After a moment’s thought, trying to figure out what any ghost would be least likely to want, Guoshi cleared his throat and said: “Children’s toys.”
“Children’s toys?”
“That’s right,” Guoshi said, raising his chin. “Do you have any children, sir?”
“Nah,” the man said, shaking his head. “Good luck.”
“Thank you,” Guoshi said, and the man moved on.
Guoshi preened; he really was TOO clever!!!!!
Luckily, he didn’t have to try his luck on the excuse again; before long, he spotted a white robe in the crowd. Xie Lian was making his way through the market with a basket over his arm, peering at various vegetables for sale and amicably chatting with the ghosts. They seemed to hold great reverence for him, waving him onward, inviting him to take a look at their wares.
Frowning, Guoshi considered the new problem: at this rate, he wouldn’t be able to get Xie Lian’s attention. Time to take the more direct approach! Stuffing a couple of calligraphy sets into a bag, which he slung over his shoulder, he shuffled over and tapped Xie Lian on the shoulder.
“GOOD SIR! Cough, cough…I’ve got something for you, a product you can’t refuse.”
Xie Lian turned away from some cabbages, blinking curiously at him. “Oh?”
It was best not to be too direct, Guoshi decided, lest Xie Lian become suspicious; so he’d take the salesman approach, trying to seem sly and convincing to the utmost. He cleared his throat.
“Ahem, ahem…does anyone you know…have problems with their GRIP?”
“Their…grip?” Xie Lian said, baffled.
“They just don’t know how to HOLD things right,” Guoshi said with a sniff. “If you know what I mean. Too tight all the time, or not tight enough, or slanted…”
Xie Lian seemed even more confused. “Not really.”
“Or someone’s too MESSY with their work, spilling everywhere without a care.”
“…um…”
“Too gentle and yielding with their hands, or too forceful—what a problem!”
“I’m sorry, I’m not really sure what you—”
“I’ll TELL you!” Guoshi brandished a finger in the air. “There’s an easy fix!”
Xie Lian nodded. “Okay, what is it?”
“Well, I’m selling—
But just as he said ‘CALLIGRAPHY SETS,’ an old donkey cart rolled by, squeaking loud enough to drown out his words.
“WHAT?” Xie Lian called over the din.
Guoshi shot a scathing look at the cart, waiting for it to pass by. Then, he cleared his throat and tried again:
“I said, I’m selling CA—”
A group of scantily clad ghost women ran by, laughing and screaming at the top of their lungs. Suppressing the urge to stretch out a leg and trip one of them, Guoshi tried again:
“As I said, before I was so RUDELY interrupted—”
“GET YER TURNIPS!” an old woman hawked, ambling down the nearby road with her baskets. “GETCHURTURNIPS! GETCHURTURNIPSRIGHTHEREREALCHEAPANDFRESH—”
Guoshi shot a dirty look at the old woman. “Do you MIND?”
“Eh?” she called back. “Aw, ain’t it the ol’ sex toy seller?”
“All right thank you goodbye,” Xie Lian blurted, and ran.
“WAIT!” Guoshi cried out, chasing after him—but his student was fast! “COME BACK! I’M SELLING—”
But Xie Lian didn’t hear, sprinting wild and red-faced down the road, until soon enough he bumped into an elderly ghost man. “I’m sorry!” Xie Lian stammered, steadying him and brushing him off. “There’s someone chasing me, excuse me, let me through—”
“Huh?” the man said, squinting over his shoulder at the rapidly approaching Guoshi. “That guy, why’s he chasin’ you? I thought he was sellin’ toys?”
“That’s precisely why I’m running—please excuse me!”
“But he said that they’re for children?”
At that, Xie Lian stopped in his tracks, looking startled. “What? He’s selling this kind of thing for children?”
“Yeah, that’s what he told me. But you don’t look so young—unless, ah, maybe you have little ones at home?”
Xie Lian didn’t say anything for a few moments. Then, he turned around, looking a little bit…angry?
Guoshi also stopped, suddenly feeling sweaty. “No! Wait! I—”
“This kind of deed is unacceptable to me,” Xie Lian said firmly. “Do you surrender peacefully, or must I chase you?”
“WAIT IT’S A MISUNDERSTANDING, I’M—EEK!”
In an instant, Xie Lian drew his sword—and ran after him!!!!!
“WAIT WAIT WAIT YOUR HIGHNESS—”
Guoshi dodged just in time as the sword came down, and now he had no choice but to RUN!
WHAT SPEED, WHAT GRACE!!!!! Guoshi is truly so proud of His Highness’ martial art skills—they—they really haven’t faltered even a bit, they’ve maybe even gotten a little better—better than those of Guoshi himself!
TEACHING THIS STUDENT—THIS VENERABLE GUOSHI REALLY DID RATHER TOO FUCKING GOOD A JOB!!!!!!
From rooftop to rooftop, Guoshi leapt, still carrying that bag of calligraphy supplies; he tried to call out to Xie Lian behind him, but it was no use. He wouldn’t stop until he chased him down, and if Guoshi’s identity was revealed—no no, this wouldn’t do at all!
Down on the street, people were stopping to watch the thrilling chase, squinting up at the figures streaking across the rooftops. Among them, two ghost friends chatted.
“Hey! Ain’t that ol’ grand-uncle?” said one. “How come he’s runnin’ after someone?”
“Didn’t’cha hear? Ol’ Lulu said that other guy’s sellin’ sex toys.”
The two watched the white-robed figure spin, flinging out a couple of knives, causing the other figure to let out a high-pitched scream and just barely dodge the blades.
“Huh,” the first ghost said. “Chasin’ down a merchant like that, poor grand-uncle must be desperate; Lord Chengzhu must not be any good at it, if y’know what I—ow! The hell was that for?!”
The other ghost had punched his shoulder. “Shaddup, what do YOU know? Lord Chengzhu’s the best at EVERYTHING! Besides, that kinda thing is actually real fun to use, even in healthy relationships.”
The first ghost smirked. “Yeah? Is that the excuse yer girlfriend gave ya?”
“YOU DOGFUCKER—!”
A heavily muscled dog ghost behind them turned around, glaring daggers. “What’s that about fuckin’ dogs?”
In an instant, the three started brawling. The other ghosts’ attentions turned from the chase to the ghosts duking it out on the street.
“Hey, look, another fight!”
“YEAHHHH!”
“WOOHOO!”
Everyone on the street started brawling all at once, throwing fists around with abandon and tossing all sorts of fruits and vegetables. It was due to this that a particularly heavy melon, lobbed from a distance with great force, hurtled through the air and knocked Guoshi over as he ran.
“OOF!” He thudded to the rooftop, tumbling once or twice. It would be seconds before Xie Lian caught up.
Thinking quickly, Guoshi dug in his bag. “WAIT WAIT WAIT—”
Xie Lian touched down to the rooftop in a flutter of robes, sweeping his sword to the side, then barreled forward—
“WAIT!” Guoshi held up a boxed calligraphy set, holding it up to shield himself and cowering behind it. “CALLIGRAPHY SETS! I’M SELLING CALLIGRAPHY SETS!”
Surprised, Xie Lian skidded to a stop and lowered his sword. “What?”
“LOOK!” With fumbling hands Guoshi opened the clasp on one, showing off the brush and inkstone within. “It was a misunderstanding!”
“…” Xie Lian furrowed his brow. “Then why did they think—”
“Those other ghosts looked cheap and I just wanted them to go away, so I told them whatever! You can search through my inventory—there’s not a single thing like that in any of my boxes! Go on, Your H—I mean, grand-uncle, you can check!”
Xie Lian still looked a little surprised and unsure, clearly at a loss, so Guoshi pressed onward:
“They’re special calligraphy sets for students who’re VERY bad at it…”
At that, finally, Xie Lian’s eyes brightened. “Oh! Really? Do they work?”
“Y-yes, of course, guaranteed!”
“Then, I’ll take one. I’m sorry about all that, I’m glad it was just a misunderstanding.” With that, Xie Lian leaned down, took one of the sets, and patted a few golden coins into Guoshi’s still-quivering hand. “Here’s a little extra too, for your trouble. Sorry again, have a nice day!”
🖌️
When Guoshi returned to his quarters in paradise manor that evening, still huffing and puffing, having long since discarded his costume, he nearly collapsed into the nearest armchair.
Never in Guoshi’s LIFE!!!!! That was too close, that was far too close. He’d made it in the end, of course, because he was just that wise and experienced, but it certainly hadn’t been good for the nerves. Of course, maybe Guoshi had let the whole thing drag on too long intentionally, to test his student’s moral fiber and martial art skills—or for dramatic purposes, just to provide some entertainment to himself, or to ghost city—or something (Guoshi will come up with an excuse later)—
—but as far as dramatic purposes are concerned, it had to be stopped all the same. After all, a Guoshi being cut down by their student due to a misunderstanding, this type of ending was way too cliche—
(Sorry, Your Highness, but it REALLY must be said—)
—and besides, it would interfere with the mission at hand.
For, lest you forget: despite the mess, Guoshi’s plan was a SUCCESS!
Now, all that remained was to wait.
🖌️
It wasn’t until after dinner that night, when Guoshi was nearly falling asleep in his chair, that the talisman he’d taped to his wrist suddenly burnt hot.
His eyes narrowed, and he stood in a great sweep.
The brush he’d sold His Highness was being used. It was time.
🖌️
Guoshi had to be swift; he hurried down the hall—
“Sir?” Yin Yu stepped out from behind a column. “Is there something I can—”
But Guoshi was READY!
“Ah, it’s you!“ Guoshi paused in his step. “How fortuitous to see you here, young man; I was actually searching for you.”
“…” Yin Yu paused. “For me?”
“Someone’s come into the manor grounds! He’s looking for you,” said Guoshi. “I didn’t catch his name, but I saw him break past the barriers and call out for you; he seemed quite determined!”
Yin Yu stepped back. “Wh-what?”
“That’s right,” Guoshi nodded somberly. “Is it someone you know? Hrrm, hrrm…I think he had curly hair…?”
“I—I’ve got—I have to go!” Yin Yu blurted out in distress, turned on his heel, and ran.
GUOSHI SCORES A PERFECT HIT!
But he couldn’t dwell on his victory for too long; who knew if that sad little boy had already sent a warning to the ghost king in his array? This type of trick, it wouldn’t work twice; Guoshi had to be swift, lest all his efforts be wasted! So he broke into a sprint along the hall, noting the talisman on his wrist growing warmer and warmer, until—
HERE! When the talisman was practically singing on his wrist, Guoshi threw open the nearest door—
AND OH, WHAT A SIGHT TO SPLIT POOR GUOSHI’S HEART IN TWO!
His Highness Xie Lian, the Crown Prince of Xianle, His Highness who Pleased the Gods, was half-bent over a table, calligraphy brush in hand, his hair falling all over the paper as though he was falling asleep onto his work; but he wasn’t asleep, he was clearly trying to write. And—and—
He was doing all this—
Sitting on the ghost king’s LAP, the kind of posture that would make any calligraphy master fall over and die! And the ghost king, oh, that wretched thing, had a cruel smile on his face, and one hand reaching over to guide Xie Lian’s quivering hand, and the other hand clearly doing something vigorously under the table—surely grinding out an inkstone in a completely incorrect manner, oh, oh!
But alas, Guoshi didn’t have the mental fortitude to keep looking, because he’d SEEN ENOUGH!!!!! So he looked tragically away, slapping a hand over his eyes, and cried out in wounded dismay—
“I KNEW IT! HOW COULD YOU!”
“Guoshi!” Xie Lian cried out in reply. “Wait! I’m sorry, I’m sorry—it’s—I’m sorry for all the excuses, I didn’t know how to tell you, I’m sorry—!’
“NO, NO, NO! I’VE HEARD ENOUGH!” Still not looking, Guoshi brandished a finger at what he hoped was the correct direction. “Put all that away at once and meet me at the office in my quarters. BOTH of you. It’s time for us to have a talk.”
🖌️
Guoshi sat on one side of the desk, his face pale and drawn, barely able to look across the table.
On the other side, Xie Lian sat red-faced and silent, his head down. Next to him, Hua Cheng leaned back in his seat, looking bored.
After a few moments, Xie Lian tried to speak:
“Guoshi—”
“No, no!” Guoshi choked out, shaking his head. “I don’t want to hear it.”
“…”
“…”
Nobody said anything. Then, it was the disgrace of a ghost king’s turn to try:
“Sir, if this humble servant may say a few words,” Hua Cheng said, his tone smooth, his words careful and pleasant to the utmost. “His Highness is so filial towards you, so gracious and obedient. He only wants to explain himself properly; in your generosity, wouldn’t you spare a moment to hear what he has to—”
“How dare you talk about him in such a way, with your fake pleasantries!” Guoshi forced out, “Knowing what you’ve done to him.”
Hua Cheng raised his brows. “Oh.”
“Guoshi, that really isn’t fair,” Xie Lian interrupted, looking upset. “He—he didn’t do anything to me that I didn’t agree with.”
“All right, then!” Guoshi said, finally meeting his gaze with a blazing look. “Knowing what he made you participate in. Is that correct enough? Hm? Are we all happy, now that the proper language has been used?”
“Guoshi…”
“Go on, then! Explain! Say whatever you want, what can you possibly say? Let’s all hear it!”
For a few moments, Xie Lian hesitated, gathering his thoughts. Then, he raised his head and spoke bravely:
“…I’ve…thought about this for a long time,” he said quietly. “Guoshi, it might…hurt a little to hear this…but I’m not the same naive student that you taught back then. I’ve changed a lot, and what was right for me then isn’t necessarily right for me now. I admit that I should’ve told you out of respect, but—something like this, it’s a little awkward to talk about? Still, I apologize. I respect you greatly as my former teacher. However, I won’t apologize for doing with my body as I see fit; I’ve made my choice, and I chose San Lang.”
Guoshi listened to the entire pitiable speech, barely holding himself back; but at the last line, he finally had to speak.
“With your BODY? Your Highness, you think it’s your BODY I’m worried about?” He shook his head, a quiver of torment breaking through his voice. “It’s your mind!”
“My—my mind?”
“Don’t understand it yet? Well, then! Tell me: just who initiated all of this?”
“We just—”
“Who’s the one who asks for these little sessions of yours, who has all the new ideas? Who corrupts your skills to his own benefit? And inevitably, therefore, who’s the one who—” Guoshi quivered with anger. “Takes the role of the teacher in the end, leading your clumsy little endeavors?”
“Guoshi!” Xie Lian looked liked he couldn’t believe his ears. “That’s really our private business—”
“Private? PRIVATE? HA!” Guoshi brandished an accusing finger. “How could it be private, when you leave evidence of your actions everywhere you go?”
“What?” Xie Lian furrowed his brow. “We haven’t!”
“Oh HAVEN’T you?” Guoshi sniffed. “So you’ve really become this careless; you leave traces left and right!”
Xie Lian was quickly turning red. He glanced at Hua Cheng, who seemed to be pondering something, then back to Guoshi. “What kind of—”
“The other day, you practically painted up a whole WALL!”
Flustered, Xie Lian mumbled: “No, no, it can’t be—that’s not possible! We would’ve noticed—”
“Playing dumb? Hmph! Then what did I see, Your Highness?” He crossed his arms. “Such beautiful calligraphy you left on the wall, fit to be entrance verses!”
“No, we—we didn’t—”
“The only thing left to the imagination,” Guoshi choked out, “Is who—held the brush.”
“Guoshi!” Xie Lian choked out in dismay.
“Hm,” Hua Cheng mused. “If it was really painted as forcefully as Guoshi describes, then it must have been—”
“Stop stop stop stop stop,” Xie Lian burst out. “San Lang, please don’t talk anymore.”
“Oh.”
Flustered, Xie Lian faced Guoshi again and spoke. “If we’ve been careless in such a way, then I really do apologize for making you see something like that. However, this is our home, and it’s still my choice what I do; nothing that you’ve said contradicts that.”
“Well, certainly it’s your choice, it’s not like I can stop you!” Guoshi scoffed. “But that’s not my aim; I’m trying to make you understand why what you’re doing is bad for you.”
“It isn’t!”
“Is that so? Hmph!” Guoshi sniffed. “Then, I think an educational demonstration is in order.”
“Really?” Hua Cheng said, in mild surprise. “Right now?”
Guoshi couldn’t BELIEVE the nerve of him! Yes, right now, you lazy good-for-nothing student! Ignoring him, Guoshi pulled a calligraphy brush out of his sleeve. “Your Highness! Look at this.”
“Oh,” said Hua Cheng. “This kind of demonstration.”
Guoshi continued to ignore him. “Your Highness, do you see this brush?”
Xie Lian sighed. “…yes, Guoshi.”
“What do you think about its state?”
“It’s an ordinary brush…”
“All right.” Guoshi slapped a long piece of paper in front of Xie Lian, set out a pot of ink, and held out the brush. “Now, write something with it.”
“What—”
“I won’t ask TWICE!”
Reluctantly, Xie Lian took the brush and wrote his own name.
WHAT SKILL!!! THANK GOODNESS GUOSHI WASN’T TOO LATE!!!
“All right,” Guoshi said, satisfied. “Now, give the brush to…” He spoke the next word through his teeth, as though pained. “…him.”
Xie Lian turned and handed the brush to Hua Cheng, wincing. “…sorry about all this, San Lang,” he whispered.
Hua Cheng smiled fondly at him. “Don’t worry, gege. It’s—”
“QUIET! No sweet little whispered words, this is a serious matter!” Guoshi demanded, then lifted a finger to point at Hua Cheng. “You…ghost…write something.”
“Oh,” said Hua Cheng, and wrote.
GUOSHI ALMOST SPITS BLOOD WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT—
“Guoshi, are you okay?” Xie Lian said.
Guoshi had half-fallen over the table, his face pale, his limbs shaking. “I’m fine…make him stop…hand me back the brush…”
“San Lang, San Lang?” Xie Lian held out his hand. “Ah, hahaha…that’s enough…”
“Okay,” Hua Cheng said obediently, passing back the brush. “How did I do?”
Xie Lian smiled, patted his shoulder without saying anything, and returned the brush to Guoshi.
Recovering a little, though not daring to look at the horrific mess on the paper that DARED to sit right next to Xie Lian’s beautiful work, Guoshi cleared his throat. “Very well. Now, two different people have used the brush, correct?”
Dumbfounded, Xie Lian nodded.
“Then, now—it’ll be used by a THIRD!” Guoshi lifted his hand—and SMACK! He smacked the brush to the paper, smashing the bristles against the paper. He wasn’t writing anything, just hitting and rubbing it as hard as he could against the surface.
SMACK…SMACK…SMACK…
“…um…Guoshi?” Xie Lian ventured.
But Guoshi was determined. He attacked the paper with the brush, ruining the bristles beyond repair, panting with the effort.
“Huff…huff…” SMACK! SMACK! “Wheeze—huff…huff—” SMACK—
“…Guoshi, are you okay? Do you need—”
“NO, NO, NO! YOU JUST WATCH!”
SMACK…SMACK…SMACK…
After another solid minute of ruining the brush, Guoshi was satisfied. He then held out the brush, with the bristles sticking out every which way, and motioned for Xie Lian to take it.
“Come, come, come! You weren’t shy before, so don’t be shy now—try to write your name with this!”
But Xie Lian didn’t take it. “Are you implying that a person is like this brush?” he said, sounding weary. “Guoshi, I respect you very much, but this is really a bad way of thinking. A person isn’t like a brush, ruined after more than one use—”
Seeing that Xie Lian wouldn’t take the brush, Hua Cheng took it from Guoshi’s hands and and played idly with it.
Xie Lian continued. “—in fact, a person doesn’t become used up like a brush at all.”
“But CHANGED!” Guoshi demanded. “CHANGED by the other people who’ve used it!”
Xie Lian shook his head. “That really isn’t how it works!”
“But it IS!”
“Actually,” said Hua Cheng, gazing down at his latest work on the paper, the brush dripping as he held it, “When I use this brush, it doesn’t look any different from before.”
“—YOU! YOU, YOU—” Livid, Guoshi pointed one trembling finger at the awful ghost king, the rims of his eyes growing red. “QUIET! I’ll GET to you!”
“Oh,” said Hua Cheng, setting down the brush.
Guoshi sighed. “Your Highness, I wouldn’t expect you to understand—perhaps that was my failure, and for that I must apologize.” He folded his hands into his sleeves. “But you should know that a great master, really any person, has a certain purity to them, which transcends both the mental and the physical aspects. It’s the reason why elders don’t take on just any student; the boundaries between teacher and student often blur, and both become infected with the traits of the other.”
“…” Xie Lian looked confused. “I’m sorry, I think I’ve lost the metaphor…?”
“It’s NO METAPHOR! I’m saying it precisely as it is. You think you’ve got all the power over him, but in the end, because of activities like this, he’s the one with the power to influence you the most.”
“I’m fine with that,” Xie Lian said softly. “In fact, I treasure that.”
Guoshi couldn’t believe his EARS! “How could you say that! Knowing how he is? Have you SEEN the calligraphy that he makes?”
“What? Calligraphy can’t be used as a measure of a person’s worth—”
“DON’T CHANGE THE SUBJECT!”
Xie Lian stared helplessly. “Aren’t you the one changing the subject?”
“You think you can confuse me until this all goes away, Your Highness? Very clever! But unfortunately, your distractions won’t—WHAT ARE YOU STILL DOING WITH THAT, PUT THAT DOWN!”
Guoshi had looked over to to the sight of Hua Cheng drawing something on the paper. Hearing himself addressed, Hua Cheng paused, the brush still dripping from his hand. “My apologies, sir. I was only testing this a little more.”
Guoshi’s eyes bulged. Somehow, with the horrifically ruined brush, Hua Cheng had drawn a beautifully detailed ink painting of the Crown Prince, in a swirl of robes and a dash of flower petals. Next to the mess of his calligraphy—how was this possible?!
“See?” Xie Lian interjected, gesturing towards the paper. “It’s the same brush, used many times over, but he’s made it work; in the same way, a person—”
“You…you…!” Guoshi’s attention was on the ghost king now, and he seethed at him. “I see my poor student is beyond reason, but it’s not his fault. The person that deserves the most blame in all this—isn’t it you?”
Hua Cheng tilted his head curiously. “Hm,” he said. “Would Guoshi specifically point out what changes he’s seen in His Highness’ behavior, and how they can be traced back to my interference?”
“His skills have gone down considerably!”
“Have they? This morning in the market, didn’t he demonstrate the opposite, at least when compared to yours?”
HOW DID HE—?!
Xie Lian furrowed his brow. “Wait a minute…”
Before Xie Lian could finish his sentence, Guoshi quickly rushed to interrupt: “I—I—that was a test for him!”
Xie Lian squinted at him. “Guoshi, it couldn’t be that you…?”
Guoshi raised his voice. “BESIDES! I’m not talking about martial arts, why would I be?”
At that, Hua Cheng tilted his head, seeming to think for a moment before speaking. “…You’re not talking about martial arts.”
“Yes, that’s what I said!”
“Ah.”
“Ah, what?”
Hua Cheng smiled. “I think I understand everything now. Actually, I’m sure we can reach a satisfactory compromise in this affair.”
Xie Lian gasped and turned to him, suddenly looking worried. “Wait, wait wait wait—let’s not be so hasty? We—”
“Shh,” Hua Cheng patted his hand gently. “Trust me, Your Highness. I know what I’m doing.” With that, he looked back to Guoshi. “We can do this: instead of so many private calligraphy lessons with His Highness, I can practice more on my own, so he only needs to supervise me once per week.”
“…”
“…”
“…”
Hua Cheng was silent because he’d stopped talking. Guoshi was silent because he was shocked by the offer, but it still wasn’t enough, and he struggled with his next words. Xie Lian was silent for some unknown reason—
But he certainly looked confused.
“…what?”
“En,” Hua Cheng said, patting his shoulder. “After all, if Guoshi is this upset about you teaching me calligraphy, then perhaps it’s reasonable to make a few changes.”
Xie Lian’s jaw had practically dropped, and his expression morphed, suddenly looking as if he didn’t know whether to laugh or to cry. “This whole time, Guoshi, you’ve…you’ve been talking about…calligraphy?!”
“Wh—of COURSE!” Guoshi burst out, equally confused. “Did you think otherwise?”
“Nonono, um—I knew, of course I knew, that’s not what I meant!” Xie Lian babbled. “I just…don’t understand.”
“What?”
“…” Xie Lian raised his head, still looking baffled. “…why is my…calligraphy so important to you?”
Guoshi looked back at him.
“…”
He looked back, tightened his lips, and remembered.
.
.
.
.
.
🖌️
A cold wind blew over the ruined remains of the royal grounds, sweeping dust over the rubble.
The royal palace, the Xianle armories, the teaching pavilions—everything was crumbled and looted; but here and there, sticking up like a strange flower amid the devastation, there was the occasional human bone.
In the silence, a pair of shoes—moving slowly, with a plodding and worn-out gait—crunched along the pebbles and shards. After a few minutes, the shoes paused in front of a long piece of fabric on the ground.
The piece of fabric was an empty sleeve. A few white finger bones, nearly indistinguishable from broken pieces of pottery, laid scattered at the edge.
A hand picked up the sleeve, feeling along the seams, then let it fall.
Hmph. This one wasn’t him.
The shoes picked up their pace again, then paused at another place. Here, a few strands of brown hair were peeking out from under the stones.
Though it hesitated for a moment, the hand came down and scrabbled through a few rocks, pushing them aside, picking up half of a jawbone that laid cracked on the ground. The hand turned it slowly, rubbing along the indentations of it.
No, no, hrrm, this one wasn’t him, either.
Carefully, now, the steps weaved their way around a particularly large piece of stone, then entered half of a building that remained standing. The shoes stopped there, in front of a piece of paper on the ground. This paper wasn’t blank; it had something written on it.
It fluttered in the wind.
Guoshi looked down at it for a long while.
Then, he bent down to pick it up.
Body in Abyss; Heart in Paradise, the calligraphy read. It was beautiful, the delicate sprawl of it, and Guoshi recognized its author. How could he not? It had been one of the proudest works in the pavilion, displayed upon a wall; but even if it hadn’t been for that, he still would have recognized it. After all, the hand that had written this—Guoshi had watched it write its first characters, watched it turn from a pudgy child’s hand into a man’s hand, watched the strokes it wrote turn from crooked into steady and proud.
But now, as he looked down at it, Guoshi wept—fondly, wistfully—and with all the care in the world, he rolled up the scroll and tucked it away. Then, he shook his head.
“Oh, your Highness,” he grieved. “Oh, my A-Lian. Before he finds you—to change you, to bend you to his will, to harm you…”
He stroked the scroll gently.
“Your Guoshi wishes you the mercy of dying first.”
🖌️
.
.
.
Silence had fallen over the room.
“Guoshi?” Xie Lian said cautiously, then. “Are you…?”
Guoshi might be getting a LITTLE MISTY!
“What’s wrong?” Xie Lian coaxed. “Won’t you talk?”
Guoshi pressed his lips together.
“Are you…crying?”
Well, that was it. An old man can only take so much. Guoshi burst into VERY DIGNIFIED SOBS!
“This venerable Guoshi—is doing NO SUCH THING!” Guoshi said thickly, his shoulders shaking, tears rolling down his face. “It’s only—that ghost king’s calligraphy—it’s burning my eyes—”
“Oh, oh Guoshi—that’s not it, is it? I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” Xie Lian fumbled for a handkerchief, was promptly handed one by Hua Cheng, and then leaned forward. “Here.”
Guoshi took it and dabbed at his eyes. “It’s nothing, it’s really nothing!”
“Won’t you tell me?” Xie Lian said, gently but desperately. “What’s wrong?”
“I said, it’s NOTHING!”
“What kind of nothing?”
After sniffling a few times, Guoshi shook his head. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“For leaving you,” Guoshi hiccuped.
There was dead silence. Xie Lian stared.
“I, I couldn’t find you, and then I stopped trying,” Guoshi blubbered. “I didn’t want to believe he’d found you. I wanted to believe that—that—”
He shook his head.
“Who knew, you were suffering all the while! And he made you do all those things—it’s my fault, how could it not be my fault? I’m the only one who knew what he was planning, couldn’t I have stopped him? Couldn’t I have done something, didn’t I owe that to you? I—”
Guoshi’s head collapsed into his hands.
“I let him go and change you! But I cared about him too—I was a fool, I should’ve known what it would all come to, but I couldn’t—I—I don’t want you to be changed by people. Your Highness, I wish I could turn back time. I wish I could take the you from back then, just as you were, innocent and untouched, and bring you here where it’s safe. I really…”
Guoshi couldn’t talk anymore, and he didn’t have anything more to say; and it seemed that Xie Lian, who’d been staring at him in shock the whole while, was suddenly beset by quivering lips and reddening eyes. He struggled for a second.
Then, the only person in the room who’d kept steady spoke.
“But he is safe,” Hua Cheng said quietly. “He’s safe here in front of you, right now.”
Guoshi shook his head. “But it all happened to him, and there’s no undoing that! He’s changed!”
“It doesn’t matter,” Hua Cheng said. “Rather than caring for somebody in a fixed state, hoping that they’ll stay the same forever, it’s much more important to care for someone as they change. The way that a person changes is part of that person, too.”
“Of course you’d say that!” Guoshi admonished bitterly. “I know everything now—when His Highness was ready to commit a massacre, which would have made him quite unhappy indeed, you helped him along without objection! Permitting something like that, nurturing that kind of change, is that caring for someone? And you want me to trust you? Ha!”
At that, Hua Cheng was silent for a few moments, before admitting gently: “If something of that nature were to happen again, this servant would make more of an effort to help His Highness understand the drawbacks. That is, if his choices would damage the well-being of his spirit.”
Xie Lian seemed surprised at that, glancing towards him out of the corner of his eye.
Guoshi scoffed. “More of an effort? Like what?”
“I would counsel him,” Hua Cheng said. “I would try to soothe whatever pain that led to such an impulse.”
Admittedly, at that, Guoshi’s heart softened a little. Still, though, he pressed onward: “And if he didn’t change his mind?”
Hua Cheng was silent.
Guoshi sighed, disappointed. “You’d help him carry out the massacre, is that it?”
But now, it was Xie Lian’s turn to interrupt. “No,” he said quietly, his eyes swimming with tears. “Because I’d listen to him.”
Now, it was Hua Cheng’s turn to look surprised. He glanced over at Xie Lian, an unreadable look sparking in his eye.
Guoshi looked between them.
Well.
Maybe—
Maybe—just maybe—
This ghost king wasn’t the worst thing to happen to his student, after all.
In any case, Guoshi needed a break, and some tea, and some distance from this all to collect himself; so, he stood up, dabbing at his eyes with his handkerchief. “Fine!” he burst out—“Do as you wish! Teach that ghost of yours all you want, Your Highness—” He turned on Hua Cheng, wagging a finger at him. “But you’d BETTER listen to your teacher! No misbehaving!”
Hua Cheng nodded obediently. “En.”
“Do your work PROPERLY!”
“Of course.”
“Don’t you DARE influence him to make his calligraphy worse.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it.”
“—and don’t you ever, ever, EVER leave him alone! Do you understand?!”
Hua Cheng didn’t need to reply to that one; the look in his eyes said enough.
“Thank you, Guoshi,” Xie Lian said, seeming relieved, still wiping away tears; and Guoshi nodded towards his student.
“You’re welcome,” he said stiffly, “I’m glad we spoke.” With that, he hurried out.
Once he’d closed the door behind him, though, he felt a little bit anxious—after all, wouldn’t ANY teacher be nervous, leaving his student in the hands of such a strange creature? Hrm, and actually, he’d forgotten to mention—
“Oh yes! Your Highness,” he said, sweeping the door open again, “I neglected to mention this, but just in case you’ve forgotten, since your relationship seems to be getting close like this, remember that your cultivation forbids—”
He stopped short. Hua Cheng and Xie Lian were sharing a deep embrace; His Highness’ face was buried in the ghost king’s shoulder, while the latter gently stroked his back.
Sniffing, Xie Lian looked up, his face streaked with tears. “Huh? Oh, Guoshi, sorry—what was that?”
“Ah—don’t worry, I’ll tell you later,” Guoshi stammered, and closed the door again.
Well!
🖌️
That night, Guoshi was full of sighs. It had been a few hours, but he’d had some time to think, and he’d been starting to feel bad—why had he gotten so worked up over nothing? Calligraphy, it wasn’t really such a big deal; as long as his student was happy, why had he created such a problem? It was hard to trust that ghost king, but he had saved His Highness’ life, and he did seem as devoted as could be. Really, there wasn’t a better outcome possible; he’d stepped in when Guoshi hadn’t, so even a nasty ghost like that had to be respected.
Hrrrmm, yes, Guoshi had more to say, maybe even an apology to the both of them. And, it had been a few hours…why not go and have a heartfelt conversation right now, while everything was still fresh?
So Guoshi stood and headed down the hallway.
Unfortunately, as he was walking, he spotted trouble up ahead: Yin Yu, who looked to be falling asleep sitting against a wall, scrambled up. This time, though, he stood in front of Guoshi directly and blocked his passage.
“I spoke to the guards earlier,” Yin Yu said, with a rather taut voice. “So I know there was no intruder. I know you might not respect me, Sir, but I take my tasks from Lord Chengzhu seriously. If you need to go see him, the proper thing to do is—”
SMACK! Guoshi tapped a talisman to Yin Yu’s back, making him freeze in place.
“There, there, now, let me pass,” Guoshi said with a yawn, patting Yin Yu’s unmoving shoulder. “This old Guoshi only needs five minutes. Don’t worry, I’ll tell your Chengzhu it wasn’t your fault, young people really are too naive.”
With that, he strolled past and down the hall unimpeded, humming a little tune.
Now, it was late, so it was hard to know where exactly they’d be. Let’s see, let’s see…ah! There, there’s a door with some candlelight coming out from under it. Why not?
With a carefree sigh, Guoshi pushed open the door and stepped in. “You two, are you—?”
Guoshi FROZE.
Because—
Because—because—!
WHAT IN HEAVEN’S NAME—?????!!!!!!!!!
His Highness the Crown Prince, the CROWN PRINCE, THE GLORY OF XIANLE!!!!—was on the bed belly-up, his robes in dissarray, leaving him half-naked. His—his thing was out, and his body was covered in—no no no no—and standing at the edge of the bed, with one of poor Xie Lian’s ankles grasped in his hands—the other ankle, no, the whole quivering leg slung over the broad shoulder of—!!!
The GHOST KING???
The ghost king, who was standing there, leaned over calm as can be, plunging his UNMENTIONABLE deep into his most treasured student.
Guoshi CHOKED—
“G-Guoshi?!” Xie Lian cried out, tilting his head back, meeting Guoshi’s gaze upside-down. His face had been flushed before, but upon seeing Guoshi in the doorway, it nearly went purple. “I—I’m—oh no—!”
“You—” Guoshi took a step back, his eyes wide as saucers, pointing one wildly trembling finger at the sight on the bed. “You—YOU—”
“Wait, Guoshi! It’s just—I—”
“Ah, Guoshi,” Hua Cheng said, looking up with a placid smile. “Good evening. Before you jump to any conclusions, there’s actually a very good explanation for this. This is a very special form of qi exercise—”
Xie Lian let out a whimper of dismay, slapping his own hands over his face. “San Lang—”
“—it’s very healthy for both of us. It’s a special method that circulates spiritual energy very efficiently—
“San LANG!”
Guoshi took another step back, still pointing wildly, still not even BELIEVING his eyes—
But Hua Cheng only went on pleasantly：
“—even though, perhaps to Guoshi, I understand that it might look quite a lot like—”
🖌️
“SEX!”
Guoshi paced furiously, jabbing his finger in the air.
“They were having SEX! All along—AND he was teaching him calligraphy!!!!”
Guoshi whirled so hard that he practically tripped, pacing towards the other side of the room.
“How could I have missed it?! It was clear from the start—and they were doing it everywhere! Doing things under the desk, hiding, dressing up for it, even doing it while doing calligraphy—His Highness on the ghost king’s lap—!!!!”
A weary sigh came in response. “I don’t need to hear about Xianle’s sex life.”
“Sex life? SEX LIFE?!” Guoshi turned to the source of the voice, waving his arms frantically. “The thought of him having a SEX life, such a thing—it’s too much to bear!!! And this isn’t just any sex, mind you—you should have seen it!”
Guoshi shuddered, wrapping his arms around himself.
“The way this—this ghost was plowing into him, like he was tilling a virgin field!!!!!” Guoshi’s voice wobbled. “Just thrusting and thrusting, relentless, tossing him like a poor little bird—!”
Jun Wu made a face. “I don’t need to hear about Xianle’s sex life.”
“Well you WILL! Because this was a consequence of what you did, Your Highness, isn’t it right that you know?!”
Jun Wu looked at him dryly. “Nianqing, everyone knew.”
“WHAT?!”
“It was obvious.”
“Well—well I—I knew they were close, but to do something like this—!”
“It was obvious to everyone.” Jun Wu said boredly. “Especially obvious to me, since I had to hear them flirt in their communication array.”
“You didn’t HAVE to do anything,” Guoshi reminded him. “That was ALL you. And, speaking of you, I brought a gift!”
Digging in his bag, he tossed out a piece of embroidered clothing. Jun Wu caught it and held it up. It read:
I LOST AN ARM AND A LEG IN THE GHOST CITY GAMBLING DEN AND ALL I GOT WAS THIS LOUSY HANFU
“Thanks,” Jun Wu said. “I’m not wearing it.”
“Don’t be rude,” Guoshi sniffed, sitting down at the small table in the room. He slouched there glumly for a few moments before sighing. “Was it really that obvious?”
Jun Wu picked at the embroidery. “Very much so.”
“Well—in the end, I did accept it, you know,” Guoshi mumbled, twiddling his thumbs. “They convinced me that it was fine, that His Highness could rebuild his cultivation—that ghost king really is a sly one!—but I made sure they did the marriage properly. All the rituals and such. If they insist on such things, after all, I’d rather it be official.”
Jun Wu opened his mouth, seemed like he was about to say something, then closed it again.
“But STILL!” Guoshi stood up again, rattling the tea tray on the table. “The thought of such a thing, I can’t get used to it, it’s so obscene! Good thing we never compromised our cultivation, Your Highness, participating in such filthy acts, and—what, what’s with that look?!”
Jun Wu had let his cheek sink against his hand, sighing heavily. “I can’t believe it.”
“What?”
“You forgot.”
“Forgot? FORGOT? FORGOT WHAT? This venerable Guoshi has been alive for a VERY long time, naturally he’d forget something here and there! It’s very normal, and if it’s forgotten, it’s like it—WHAT ARE YOU DOING! DON’T YOU FACE THE WALL, YOUR HIGHNESS! TURN AROUND AND LOOK AT ME! ALL RIGHT, MY MEMORY IS ACTUALLY PERFECT, AS BEFITTING OF A MASTER, BUT—IF YOU'RE REFERRING TO THAT TIME, WE BOTH AGREED THAT IT DIDN’T COUNT! WE—TAKE YOUR HANDS OFF YOUR EARS! IT DIDN’T COUNT, WE BOTH SAID IT, LISTEN TO ME, TAKE YOUR HANDS OFF YOUR EARS THIS INSTANT!!!! YOUR HIGHNESS! YOUR HIGHNESS!!!!!”
What is Guoshi referring to, you ask?
WOULDN’T YOU LIKE TO KNOW!!!!! YOUNG PEOPLE ARE SO NOSY—GET OUT!!!!!!