Chapter Text
Mu Qing leaps in to help Xie Lian with the congee, which Feng Xin thinks is very noble and heroic of him. The noise of their cooking is what eventually stirs Hua Cheng, and he squints up at Xie Lian, who has yet to put him down. Xie Lian beams.
“Gege,” Hua Cheng says, dumbly. Then: “Gege! Gege gege gege gege—”
Laughing, Xie Lian embraces the toddler-sized calamity attempting to climb him. Hua Cheng makes a high-pitched sound of delight—from anyone but Crimson Rain Sought Flower, Feng Xin might even consider it a squeal—as his hands tangle in Xie Lian’s hair. It’s cute. It’s unfairly cute. Several seconds later, Hua Cheng has yet to stop moving, although he isn’t actively trying to scale Xie Lian’s shoulders anymore; Feng Xin suspects he’s just squirming with excitement. Even so, Xie Lian hugs him a little more securely to settle him down.
“Ah, San Lang—it’s okay, it’s okay, easy,” he says, rubbing their noses together. “I’m right here. I really missed you too.”
“I thought gege was never coming back!” Hua Cheng wails mournfully, melodramatically. “I missed gege so much. Gege was very cute as a baby, but this San Lang was beginning to think the curse would never wear off and I would be stuck with these two idiots forever. How is gege? Do you feel okay?”
“I feel just fine, don’t worry. San Lang did a good job breaking the curse—thank you very much.”
Hua Cheng wiggles. Hua Cheng fucking wiggles. “Of course. Anything for gege.”
“So are you hungry, my little hero?” Xie Lian asks, grinning. “I’m making congee.”
This doting affection is going to make Feng Xin sick if it continues much longer. He steps forward, clearing his throat loudly, and Xie Lian glances over at him. Hua Cheng ignores him, predictably, in favor of shoving his face into Xie Lian’s hair and breathing deeply like the little freak he is.
“As cute as this all is,” Feng Xin says, “if we’re going to talk, let’s talk. I told Jian Lan I would take Cuo Cuo as soon as everything was fine here.”
“Ah, of course. I shouldn’t keep you. Here, San Lang.” Xie Lian sets Hua Cheng down, and between blinks he goes from a dimpled toddler to a towering ghost. “Who wants congee?”
Mu Qing’s intervention has salvaged the congee, to Feng Xin’s relief, and they all sit to eat. Hua Cheng holds Xie Lian’s hand the entire time, as though he’ll simply fade away if some part of them isn’t touching. Maybe he will. Xie Lian finishes eating first, though, and gently untangles his fingers from Hua Cheng’s.
Then Xie Lian stands, and he bows.
“Gege!” Hua Cheng cries, affronted, and surges forward to nudge him back up. “What’s this for? Stop that.”
“San Lang.” Xie Lian laughs, gently pushing Hua Cheng back into his seat. “It’s alright. I wanted to say thank you—all three of you.”
“Well, don’t thank us that way!”
Xie Lian tweaks his nose, and Hua Cheng juts his lower lip out in a pout.
“Besides, the thanks is really unnecessary,” Mu Qing adds, looking away. “Anyone would have done the same.”
“He’s right. You’re our friend, Your Highness, so of course we wanted to help you. Besides, a few tantrums aside, you were pretty cute as a kid,” Feng Xin says, grinning.
Xie Lian flushes pink, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “Ah, yes. When I was little, I was—”
“—the cutest thing in the world,” Hua Cheng finishes adamantly. “None of us would change a single thing, Your Highness.”
“Now, I don’t think that’s entirely true,” Xie Lian objects. “San Lang should be more sincere.”
Hua Cheng sprawls across the table, nudging his bowl closer to Xie Lian. “This one sincerely wants more congee, gege.”
Spoiled. Ridiculously, abhorrently, thoroughly spoiled.
Xie Lian does give him more congee, but doesn’t wholly let him get away with the deflection. “That’s what I’ve been meaning to talk to the three of you about, actually,” he says, pushing Hua Cheng’s refilled bowl back to him. “I’m grateful for all of your hard work, but there are some things that could have been handled better.”
Hua Cheng’s jaw tightens. “Gege, about this, I need to apologize.”
“You see?” Xie Lian asks, his eyes flashing as he looks from Feng Xin to Mu Qing. “This is the problem. San Lang has nothing to apologize for.”
“I frightened Your Highness,” Hua Cheng says lowly. “I behaved poorly when you were in a vulnerable state, and I—”
“You and I will talk about that at home. Don’t apologize anymore right now, San Lang.”
Hua Cheng’s jaw clicks shut, and he looks away. “Yes, Your Highness.”
“As for you two…” Xie Lian breathes deeply, setting his hands on his hips. Feng Xin feels very much like a child again, sitting in front of his mother before a scolding. “I understand that you wanted to protect me, but really, from San Lang? I thought we had finally moved past this. I thought you finally understood that he would never harm me.”
“Never harm you intentionally, maybe,” Mu Qing grudgingly allows, “but as a child, you weren’t able to defend yourself. If he had gone mad—”
“Even at his maddest, San Lang would never hurt me,” Xie Lian snaps. “How dare you insinuate otherwise. And to bring his own childhood into it, too! I expected better from you.”
Mu Qing leaps to his feet, his eyes blazing. “It wasn’t safe, Xie Lian! I know you think you understand him, but you haven’t seen the things he can do. You haven’t known him as long as we have. You weren’t there when he attacked thirty-three gods and desecrated their temples. You weren’t there when he attacked us. I don’t know whether or not he’d hurt you, and that’s the problem. It wasn’t a risk worth taking, not when you weren’t able to defend yourself.”
“San Lang is my husband,” Xie Lian says, his voice trembling with anger. “He is the man I spend every single day with. I know him better than anyone.”
“Mu Qing was right.”
Feng Xin’s head snaps around, his eyes wide. Hua Cheng’s head is lowered, and he will not meet anyone’s gaze. His words ring in the silence between them.
“...San Lang?” Xie Lian says, faltering.
“Mu Qing,” Hua Cheng repeats, slowly and reluctantly, “was right. The choices he made were solely to protect His Highness, and I can’t blame him for it. This lowly ghost is—he’s too scary for children. He wouldn’t have been a good caretaker for His Highness on his own.”
Xie Lian’s hands curl into fists so tight his knuckles blanch.
“This one,” Hua Cheng continues, heedless of the chill growing in Xie Lian’s eyes, “doesn’t know how to take care of kids. His Highness deserved better. At least this way, Feng Xin could use his experience to make sure you were cared for properly. I’m only upset that they lost you.”
“Hua Cheng,” Xie Lian says, “please wait outside.”
Hua Cheng flinches. “Your Highness…”
“I need to talk to these two alone. I’ll be out in just a moment.”
Hua Cheng slinks out of the house like a kicked dog, casting woeful glances back at Xie Lian until the door shuts behind him. Then, and only then, does Xie Lian let his face contort with fury. He brings his hands down on the table hard enough that the wood cracks.
“Look what you’ve done,” he hisses. “Do you know how hard I’ve worked to get him to trust himself around me? And now you’ve ruined it. How am I ever supposed to convince him that he’s safe for kids now? What if we want to have children in the future? What will he think?”
“Kids?” Mu Qing’s voice cracks. “Kids? You can’t! Your Highness, Crimson Rain Sought Flower would—”
“He’d be a good dad,” Feng Xin interrupts, and they both stiffen and whip around to face him. “Maybe not yet, but with a little more practice, I mean. He was learning fast. If he could just control his anger better, he’d do fine.”
Xie Lian takes another deep breath, his eyes closing briefly. “Now if only I can convince him of that. You’ve made it unbelievably more difficult, Mu Qing.”
“I was protecting you.” Mu Qing scowls. “I’m sorry it upset Hua Cheng, but he was the one who snapped at me first.”
“Because you tried to take me from him. Mu Qing, do you know how scary that is for him? I was gone from him for eight hundred years, and then you tried to take me when I was already cursed and small? Of course he reacted that way. You know how protective he is.”
“If he’s so protective, why wouldn’t he want what was best for you?” Mu Qing demands.
“He undoubtedly did. Believe it or not, before you, he probably wouldn’t have had any doubts about his ability to care for me! And if he did, he would have reached out to Yin Yu for help. I’m not saying he would have been perfect, but he would have been good. He’s always good to me. And now you’ve—” Xie Lian’s fists clench again, and he breathes shakily. “Ai, my poor San Lang.”
“I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry. Is that what you want to hear?” Mu Qing says, his teeth grinding audibly. “Will that make everything better?”
“No. No, it’s not me you need to apologize to.”
“What? To him? No way!”
“I can’t say I expected anything more,” Xie Lian says flatly, “but I’m still disappointed.”
Feng Xin knows the words aren’t aimed at him, but they make him cringe anyway. Mu Qing’s face pales abruptly, and he leans forward with his mouth open. Feng Xin scrambles up before he can begin to shout again.
“Maybe we can all talk about this when we’re calmer,” he says, his own voice strained. “I don’t think we’re accomplishing anything right now.”
“Feng Xin is right.” Xie Lian turns on heel, heading for the door. “I need to talk to San Lang.”
“Your Highness,” Feng Xin says, and then hesitates.
“What is it?” Xie Lian glances back over his shoulder.
“Let me know if you need anything—either of you.”
The smile that lights Xie Lian’s face is soft and familiar, momentarily erasing the lines of tension around his golden eyes. “Thank you, Feng Xin.”
Things are far from smoothed over—but, Feng Xin hopes, it will be enough for now.
(Besides, it only takes five seconds after Xie Lian’s exit for Mu Qing to lash out at Feng Xin in his rage, and—well, then he has other things to think about.)
As soon as Xie Lian steps outside, he has a ghost king plastered against him. This is, as always, a positive development. He hums appreciatively, petting Hua Cheng’s hair as his husband nuzzles into his neck.
“Is gege mad?” Hua Cheng asks, unusually meek. “Did this one do something to offend him?”
“It’s not you I’m mad at, sweet boy.” Xie Lian cups his cheek, turning to kiss the tip of his nose.
“If it’s something those dimwits did, this one will gladly kill them,” Hua Cheng says, perking up a little at the notion. “Gege only has to say the word.”
“Ah, San Lang, such a romantic.” Xie Lian grins and kisses his husband properly, reaching into Hua Cheng’s robes to snag his dice as he does. “I’m not quite that mad yet.”
“Hm. Well, if gege changes his mind…”
“You’ll be the first person to know,” Xie Lian promises, and tosses the dice. Together, the two of them step away from Feng Xin’s house and into their bedroom at Paradise Manor. “But right now, I want to talk to you about other things.”
Hua Cheng changes face again, looking away and dropping his gaze. It makes Xie Lian’s heart ache. How long has it been since Hua Cheng looked so uncertain around him? Things had been getting so much better in regards to his self-worth, and now…
“Ah, San Lang.” Xie Lian steps forward, cradling his husband’s face and peppering it with kisses. “My poor San Lang. You’ve had a hard time.”
“What? Gege, no. I had fun.”
“I had fun too. San Lang was very good to me.” Xie Lian tips his head, smiling. “He helped Feng Xin build the swings, and played on them with me, and taught me to spar, and flew kites when I asked him to. Hong-er was a good friend, and San Lang was a good gege.”
A pink blush creeps across the bridge of San Lang’s nose. “It was only what Lian-er deserved. Honestly, this one wishes he could have been better for you.”
“Nonsense. San Lang was perfect.”
Hua Cheng scoffs. “Hardly. I frightened you, and lost you, and took your ring. We’re just lucky nothing worse happened.”
“Don’t talk like that.” Xie Lian shakes his head adamantly. “Although, now that you mention it, I would like my ring back.”
Hua Cheng fumbles through his pockets before hastily offering Xie Lian his ashes again. “I’m sorry I took it,” he says. “I know it belongs to gege, and that he can do whatever he wants with it. If it was only for my sake, I wouldn’t have dared to touch it. It’s only—I was worried you were going to get hurt protecting it.”
Xie Lian takes the ring, looping it around his neck again and nestling it beneath his robes. He can’t say that he’s glad it was taken from him, but he understands. “I know. I’m not upset.”
“You were,” Hua Cheng mumbles.
“I was a child, San Lang. Please don’t take that sort of thing to heart. I wasn’t thinking clearly.”
“I know. I don’t blame gege. With the knowledge he had at the time, he had every right to be upset. It’s the same as when I scared you.”
“You…” Xie Lian sighs. He can’t deny that Hua Cheng had scared him, and even if he tried to Hua Cheng would see through the lie. “You did frighten me, but I don’t blame you for that.”
“You should.”
“You felt threatened.”
“It doesn’t matter.” Hua Cheng’s shoulders hunch, his jaw clenching. “I’m an adult. I should know how to control myself. I shouldn’t lash out at others like that when there are children around. So, I don’t need gege to say I didn’t do anything wrong.”
“You didn’t know I was listening in. I wasn’t supposed to be.”
“I knew it was a possibility. Please, gege, for this, just let me be sorry. I know how awful it is when the adults around you are angry and you can’t do anything and I—” Hua Cheng exhales sharply. “I’m sorry I put you in that situation.”
Xie Lian closes his eyes and swallows around his grief. It hurts to imagine Hong-er in his position, small and scared and powerless. At least Lian-er had never been in any actual danger. The same can’t be said for Hong-er, all those years ago. No doubt the adults in his life would have lashed out at him as soon as each other.
“Alright,” Xie Lian says softly. “If that’s what San Lang needs, then I forgive him.”
Hua Cheng leans down to press his forehead against Xie Lian’s shoulder. “So easily?”
“En. I believe San Lang is sorry, and that he won’t do it again. I don’t need anything else.”
Hua Cheng makes a low, dissatisfied noise.
“Why does that make San Lang unhappy?” Xie Lian asks, although he knows why very well.
“It’s too easy. For what I put gege through, I should—”
“I won’t help you hate yourself, San Lang, and you know better than to ask me. Gege says you’re forgiven, and so you are. No more blame.” Xie Lian reaches up, tugging gently on Hua Cheng’s braid. “No more guilt.”
Hua Cheng wraps him in a tight hug, curling down around him. He doesn’t agree, but he doesn’t disagree, either, and that’s as close to a victory as Xie Lian thinks he’s going to get right now.
“What else is upsetting my sweet boy, hm?” Xie Lian asks, kissing Hua Cheng’s temple and sifting fingers through his hair. “Please tell this gege, so he can make it better.”
It has taken a long, long time for Hua Cheng to accept that he can ask for comfort—and even still, it’s difficult for him. Xie Lian fully expects tonight’s conversation to be like prying teeth, so he’s a little surprised when Hua Cheng tucks even closer to him and mumbles, “Gege...does gege think this one would be a bad father?”
Xie Lian blinks—and then, at once, he tightens his grip on Hua Cheng. It is a claim and comfort both. “Absolutely not,” he says vehemently. “San Lang, don’t ever think that. I think you’d be a wonderful father.”
“I don’t know how.” Hua Cheng rubs his face against Xie Lian’s shoulder, breathing shakily. “Gege, what if I’m like him?”
“Like who?”
“Like my father?”
“No! San Lang, no.” Xie Lian’s voice cracks, and he pets Hua Cheng’s hair almost frantically. “No no no, never, love. You would never be like him. My San Lang is so sweet and so patient with the people he loves. He’s nothing like that bastard.”
“How do you know? Gege, we’ve never had kids around. The closest thing we have is stupid E-ming, and—” Hua Cheng squirms uncomfortably. “I hate it. I treat it like my father—like he used to treat me.”
Xie Lian can hardly refute the truth of that statement. E-ming is the most child-like, out of all of them, and still Hua Cheng has never been particularly loving towards it. But, at the same time…“It’s because E-ming reminds you of yourself, isn’t it? Because it’s a part of you, and how San Lang feels about himself is rarely kind. So, I don’t think that’s a fair comparison.”
“What if it is, though?”
“Well, if you’re so worried about it, then be nicer to E-ming,” Xie Lian says simply. “It would be good practice. Even something like being a dad needs practice, I think.”
“But what if I’m—what if I can’t?” Hua Cheng says, drawing back and shaking his head in frustration. “What if I can’t love anyone else? Gege, all I am is yours. Even if they’re your children, there’s no guarantee that I could love them. The way I am—the way I exist, I just don’t know if there’s room for anything else.”
It hurts, somewhere deep behind Xie Lian’s ribs, this reminder that Hua Cheng has lost so much. He has lost so many parts of himself in death, and replaced them with only obsession. There is something precious about being another person’s only reason to live. There is something terrifying and sick about it.
“Let’s get a pet,” he blurts, and Hua Cheng blinks at him. “A—a dog, or a cat, or a horse, or something, and then we can see. And, even if San Lang can’t love anyone else, it doesn’t matter. I’m happy like this. So if being fathers isn’t possible, or is too scary for you, then we don’t ever have to do it and that’s okay.”
Hua Cheng stares, and then: “Not a horse.”
“Okay.”
“I hate horses.”
“Okay. San Lang—” Xie Lian leans up, wrapping his arms around Hua Cheng’s shoulders and dragging him back into another hug. “Everything’s okay. We’re okay.”
Hua Cheng’s back shakes under his hands, and he pushes Xie Lian until they both topple onto the bed. Then he winds his limbs around him, clinging fiercely as Xie Lian kisses his hair and pets his shoulders. Xie Lian croons softly to him, bumping their faces together when he convinces Hua Cheng to peek up at him.
“I don’t want to be like him,” Hua Cheng says, his voice thick with fear and grief, “I don’t, gege, I don’t want to be him.”
“You won’t,” Xie Lian soothes, over and over and over, as many times as it takes. “My San Lang is good and kind. He’s never hurt anyone he loved.”
“I want to be a good dad. Gege, I want to be good.”
“You are. Shh, my San Lang, you’re so good, and you would be a wonderful father. You’re so good at so many things. Any skill you put your mind to, you perfect.”
“But what if I can’t love them? Gege, what if I can’t?”
“It’s okay. It’s okay, San Lang, deep breaths. Whether or not you can, I love you and I will not leave you. I’m happy just like this. This—you and me—this is all the family I need.”
“Gege’s my family?”
“Of course I am. San Lang, of course.”
Hua Cheng cries harder, his tears damp and cold against Xie Lian’s collarbone. His fingers clutch Xie Lian’s back with a fervor that borders on painful, and Xie Lian kisses the tips of his ears until he stops shaking quite so badly. When Hua Cheng finally unlocks his fingers, it’s only to pet one hand down Xie Lian’s side.
“I wanted it to be nice for gege,” he whispers, his voice raw. “I wanted you to have fun when you were little.”
“I did. San Lang, it was so much fun.”
“It could have been better.”
“Then—” Xie Lian captures his hands, folding them between his own. “We’ll do it again. I’ll let you take care of Lian-er whenever you want.”
Hua Cheng’s lower lip trembles. “Yes, please. I love Lian-er.”
“Lian-er loves you too.” Xie Lian snuggles closer, humming happily. “San Lang-gege is his favorite.”
Hua Cheng laughs, wobbly and wet, before burying his face against Xie Lian’s hair. “San Lang-gege,” he repeats, and Xie Lian couldn’t stop the smile that crosses his face for anything in the world. “I like that.”
The two of them remain tangled together for several hours—the only reason they stir, in the end, is because Xie Lian’s stomach has begun to rumble. He cooks while Hua Cheng perches on the counter and swings his legs, watching his every move with rapt attention. Even when they sit to eat, his eye rarely strays from Xie Lian’s face.
“—don’t think I’ve ever painted something quite that bad,” Xie Lian says, laughing. “I can’t believe Feng Xin actually hung it up.”
“I’m jealous.”
“Ah, San Lang, really.”
“I am.” Hua Cheng pouts, stirring his congealed rice with a single chopstick. “How come that guy gets to have one of Lian-er’s paintings and I don’t?”
“You have lots of my paintings, silly.”
“Not that one. Mm. I’ll have to steal it, gege.”
“San Lang,” Xie Lian scolds playfully. “Feng Xin was good to you, wasn’t he?”
Hua Cheng shrugs. “He was okay, as far as bastards go. Better than the Sweeping General, anyway.”
“I thought so.” Xie Lian leans forward, propping his elbows on the table and resting his chin in his hands. “I’m still upset about how they treated you. It wasn’t fair.”
“Gege is regularly surrounded by people unworthy of his time,” Hua Cheng agrees.
“San Lang.”
Hua Cheng fills his mouth with poorly cooked rice and does not respond.
“It wasn’t nice of them to bring up your childhood like that—and to make you think you would be anything like your father just because of the way he treated you. I’ll get them to apologize.”
“Unnecessary. I don’t care what those two think of me.”
“You deserve an apology.”
“It doesn’t change anything. What they think of me—it won’t change, and I don’t care, anyway. The only opinion that matters is gege’s.”
“Well, gege’s opinion is that they should still apologize.”
Hua Cheng wrinkles his nose.
“Really, I thought…” Xie Lian sighs, reaching out to cover Hua Cheng’s hand with one of his. “I thought they were warming up to you. I thought things would have been better.”
“They weren’t awful,” Hua Cheng grudgingly admits. “Feng Xin said I’d be a good dad.”
Xie Lian blinks. “To your face, he said that?”
Hua Cheng harrumphs and looks away.
“San Lang!” Xie Lian cries joyfully. “He really does like you!”
“Well, I don’t like him. He’s still an asshole. Just...less of an asshole than some other people, I guess.”
Xie Lian squeals and squishes his own face in delight. “You’re friends!”
“We aren’t.”
“I just knew this day would come eventually! San Lang, I’m so happy.”
“Oh.” Hua Cheng blinks. “Well, if it makes gege so happy…”
“So happy.”
“Then I suppose we aren’t enemies anymore.”
Xie Lian flaps his hands, then springs up to clear away their dishes. “But, enemies or not, Feng Xin still needs to apologize. I’ll talk to him and Mu Qing again tomorrow; I was getting a little too worked up today. But really, can you blame me? The way they made San Lang feel—ah, it isn’t fair! My sweet boy must have been so miserable.”
“Hardly,” San Lang says, looking fondly after Xie Lian. “How could I be miserable with Lian-er around?”
“Lian-er wasn’t always the nicest to you.”
“Lian-er was a baby. I don’t mind.”
“You’re sure you’re not mad?” Xie Lian asks, hesitating. “The things I said to you...I’m sorry, too.”
“What? No, gege.” Hua Cheng stands and drapes himself over Xie Lian’s back again, nuzzling into the nape of his neck before biting gently. Xie Lian shivers. “Gege doesn’t ever need to apologize to me. Lian-er was so little—he can’t be blamed for not controlling himself perfectly.”
“But I made you sad.”
“Yes, but—that’s because of me, not because of gege,” Hua Cheng says apologetically. “When it comes to gege, I’m simply too sensitive. I know you really didn’t mean it.”
Xie Lian turns in his arms, kissing the corner of his mouth. “Good. I’m glad you know that.”
“Besides,” Hua Cheng adds, grinning, “it was cute to see gege finally demanding the things he wanted. I love you when you’re spoiled.”
Xie Lian’s face heats, and he shoves it into the crook of Hua Cheng’s neck to hide. “San Lang is so shameless.”
“En.” Hua Cheng ruffles his hair affectionately.
“I think if there’s anything San Lang has to worry about when it comes to kids,” Xie Lian says thoughtfully, “it’s going to be spoiling them too much.”
“Hm,” Hua Cheng says. It’s a very happy hm. “There are worse things.”
Much, much worse things, Xie Lian knows—and those are the things that he doesn’t want either of them thinking about right now. So, he grabs Hua Cheng’s hand and drags him outside. He’s got a lot of scrap-collecting to catch up on, and what better way to spend an afternoon than exploring with his husband? Hua Cheng has no complaints to make, if the way he laces his fingers through Xie Lian’s and smiles like the sun is anything to go by.
“I’m sorry,” Feng Xin says.
“Shut the fuck up and drink your fucking tea,” Hua Cheng says back.
It is, Xie Lian thinks, one of the friendliest exchanges he’s seen from them.
Lian-er wakes up in a nest of silk sheets and warm blankets. Someone is wrapped protectively around him; when he peeks up, he sees one dark eye fastened to him. He smiles, and reaches up to wrap a hand around Hua Cheng’s braid. Hua Cheng returns his smile, soft and adoring.
“Good morning, Lian-er,” he murmurs.
Lian-er nestles closer, tucking his head beneath Hua Cheng’s chin. Hua Cheng reflexively curls up tighter, enfolding Lian-er within the curve of his body. “Morning, gege,” Lian-er mumbles, tucking his nose against Hua Cheng’s collarbone. “Love you.”
“I love you too,” Hua Cheng whispers. Then, “What do you want to do today, little one?”
Lian-er hums thoughtfully. “Let’s go to the garden. I want to play with the butterflies.”
“Mn, that sounds nice.”
“And—” He looks up, propping his chin on Hua Cheng’s chest. “San Lang-gege can make me swings.”
Hua Cheng’s eye shines. “Gege can make you so many swings, Lian-er.”
“I just don’t understand why you won’t apologize,” Xie Lian says, frustration leaking into his voice in spite of his best efforts to keep it out. “You know you were wrong.”
“The choices I made were to protect you,” Mu Qing spits. “Why would I apologize for that?”
“Because you hurt San Lang!”
“Hua Cheng doesn’t give a shit what I think or do. He doesn’t need my approval.”
“No, he doesn’t, but—can’t you at least try? For me? I love you both and I want you to get along.”
Mu Qing looks away from him, scowling. “Well, I’m sorry, Your Highness, but you can’t always get what you want. He and I will never be friends.”
“I’m not asking you to be friends, I just—” Xie Lian shakes his head. “Do you really think what you said was right? Do you really think Hua Cheng would ever hurt a child? Would ever hurt me?”
“He’s a devastation-ranked ghost king who’s slaughtered thousands of ghosts, gods, and humans, Xie Lian. He’s one of the most dangerous things in this world. You’d do better not to forget that.”
“I was thinking,” Feng Xin says, “about what it would have been like if we’d kept Hong-er.”
“Oh?”
“Do you think he would’ve called me gege, too?”
“Feng Xin.” Xie Lian tips his head to look at his oldest friend, his own throat full of regret for that abandoned child and the family they could have had hundreds of years earlier. “He would have loved you. You could have taught him to fight.”
“He would swear a lot more, I think, if he’d been raised around me.”
“He already swears more around you. Tsk. You’re teaching him bad habits.”
Feng Xin laughs, tossing his head back. “Me? Xie Lian, isn’t he Chengzhu of Ghost City? All of the bad habits are his first.”
“Feng Xin?”
“Hm?”
“Thank you for taking care of him when I couldn’t.” Xie Lian folds his hands in his lap. “I know we made a mistake sending him away back them—and it wasn’t just you and Mu Qing, either, despite what San Lang likes to think. I could have kept him around if I really wanted to. That I didn’t is my own fault, and we’ve all suffered for it. But, I think we have a new chance now. I’m not going to let this one go so easily.”
“Ah, Your Highness.” Feng Xin draws his legs up, wrapping his arms around them and sighing. “I won’t let it go, either. Maybe he’d like me to, I don’t know, but...if there’s any chance at all, I don’t want to hate him anymore.”
“I don’t think he wants to hate you, either. Just give him time. He’s stubborn about the way he feels—but, once he decides he likes you—” Xie Lian smiles, wrapping his fingers around the ring over his heart. “He won’t ever stop.”
“Agh! E-ming, you goddamn—” Hua Cheng takes a deep breath and lets it out, ignoring the way E-ming rattles and glares at him. When he speaks again, his voice is stiff. “Would you please quit doing that?”
E-ming stops rattling and stares.
“San Lang,” Xie Lian says, and Hua Cheng glances at him. “Good job.”
Feng Xin is soaking wet when he skids into their shrine, his eyes wide. Outside, the skies have opened for a downpour: thunder cracks and rolls through the thick clouds. The wind buffets fiercely through the shrine’s open door until Feng Xin kicks it shut behind him. Xie Lian springs to his feet. Hua Cheng quirks an eyebrow.
“So listen,” Feng Xin says, panting. He’s holding a bundle of cloth tightly to his chest. “I know you said you were still looking, but I found this on the side of the road in the middle of the storm and I didn’t see its mother anywhere and I thought of you and—fuck, here, just take it!”
He thrusts the bundle of cloth forward, and Xie Lian quickly accepts it from him. It squirms and he nearly drops it in surprise—within the folds of wet cloth, there’s an animal. It’s small, barely more than a handful of fur and paws. Its eyes aren’t even open yet. Xie Lian is immediately and irrevocably in love.
“What is that?” Hua Cheng prowls closer, looking warily at the bundle.
“A dog.” Feng Xin hesitates. “I hope.”
“Ugh. Your Highness, don’t touch it, it’s got fleas.” Hua Cheng reaches into the bundle, pulling the puppy up by the scruff of its neck. It goes limp in his hold, instinctively curling itself up as he carries it towards the bath.
“Feng Xin, thank you.” Xie Lian hugs him, then immediately pulls back and clucks his tongue. “Ah, but you’re soaking wet. Come on, let’s get you some new clothes before you catch a cold.”
As Hua Cheng washes the puppy off, Xie Lian rummages through their closet for clothes that will fit Feng Xin. Once everyone—the puppy included—is clean and dry, Xie Lian gathers them in the shrine’s front room. Hua Cheng returns the pup to him, and Xie Lian wraps her in his robes. Her fur is dark and patchy, and her mouth is pink and toothless when she opens it to cry.
“It’s loud,” Hua Cheng says disapprovingly.
“She’s perfect,” Xie Lian says, looking warmly at her. “We don’t have to keep her if San Lang doesn’t want, but let’s at least keep her until she’s old enough to wean.”
“How will we feed it?”
“The neighbors have goats—maybe they’ll lend us milk.”
“Hm.”
“Well, if you don’t want to keep it, give it back to me and I’ll find it a home,” Feng Xin says. “I know it’s probably not what you were looking for, but when I saw it I didn’t want to leave it behind. It’s too pathetic. Who knows what would have become of it all alone?”
Hua Cheng looks suspiciously at him.
It’s only after Feng Xin leaves that he says, “Gege, that dog’s no good. It’s sick and a stray.”
“She’s perfect and I love her,” Xie Lian announces, kissing the puppy’s little wet nose. “But we won’t keep her if San Lang still doesn’t want her in a few days. Deal?”
Hua Cheng sighs, sinking to the ground beside Xie Lian. “I’ll go ask the neighbors for milk as soon as the rain lets up.”
“E-ming! E-ming, stop it, stop— ugh.” Hua Cheng makes a face as his scimitar presses insistently into his hands. He had petted it all of one time, and it seems to have gone mad with its master’s affection. Xie Lian can’t stop giggling. “Why are you like this? Why are you so needy? Can’t you behave like a proper weapon for once in your life?”
“E-ming, come here, sweet thing, come here.” Xie Lian opens his arms, and E-ming quickly abandons Hua Cheng. Soothingly, Xie Lian strokes its blade until its trembling eases. “Is San Lang being nice to you, hm? I know he is. He’s being very good, isn’t he? He’s a good boy.”
Hua Cheng groans and throws himself face-first onto the bed.
Hua Cheng knows there are pieces of himself that did not survive his first death. One of those pieces, he’s certain, is the ability to love anyone but Xie Lian: it’s merely a fact of his existence as a ghost. His entirety revolves around one thing and one thing only. Anything else is a distraction. Even knowing that...
Looking at this puppy, he feels nothing, and it terrifies him.
Xie Lian claims he’ll be happy no matter what Hua Cheng is capable of feeling, but Hua Cheng wants to give him everything. It’s clear that he wouldn’t mind having children and Hua Cheng doesn’t want to be the one to hold him back from that. But, at the same time, he doesn’t dare subject a child to his own loveless parenting.
He takes care of the puppy, as he does all of Xie Lian’s things. He dips a washcloth into warm goat’s milk and lets it suckle. He washes the fleas and mange from its tiny body. He cleans up its messes and buys it rope and rawhide to chew on when it begins to teeth. He never hits it. He never hurts it. He never loves it.
And then, one day, he sees Xie Lian playing tug-of-war with it. Its tail wags enthusiastically and it watches him with nothing short of adoration. There is a brilliant smile on his husband’s face, and Hua Cheng’s lungs ache with the sudden weight of his love. He turns his eyes from Xie Lian to the puppy, and—
Oh.
He doesn’t know if this is love. It’s certainly not what he feels for Xie Lian—a passion that borders on madness half of the time—but it’s soft, and it’s warm, and it’s nice. He likes things that like Xie Lian. He likes things that make Xie Lian happy. He likes the puppy.
That night, he sits with her cradled in his lap and lets her nurse on goat’s milk while Xie Lian cooks dinner. “Hi,” he whispers to her. Her paws knead the rag, and he dips it into the bottle of milk beside him before returning it to her. She makes soft snuffling sounds as she eats. Her fur is silky-soft where it brushes his fingers. “You’re pretty cute, you know that?”
“I think she does.” Xie Lian kneels behind him, kissing the top of his head.
“I like her,” Hua Cheng confesses. Xie Lian hums happily, winding his arms beneath Hua Cheng’s to hug him. “I don’t know if I love her, but I like her.”
“Do you want to keep her?”
“En. Gege, let’s keep her.”
“What should we name her?”
Hua Cheng thinks, setting the washcloth aside: she’s falling asleep as she suckles. He scratches her round, pink belly with one nail and watches her leg kick. “Xi-wang,” he says softly. “How about Xi-wang, gege?”
“I think that’s a perfect name.” Xie Lian scoots around to pet the puppy’s head, his eyes soft. “Welcome to the family, Xi-wang.”
“Mu Qing,” Xie Lian says, his eyes widening. Xi-wang bounds around their feet, her tail wagging as she sniffs Mu Qing’s legs. “What are you doing here?”
Mu Qing grimaces away from Xi-wang. “I just—hadn’t seen you in a while. I wanted to make sure you were alright.”
“Oh.” Xie Lian’s eyes drop. It seems Mu Qing still doesn’t trust Hua Cheng to take care of him. “Well, if that’s all, then you can go. I’m fine.”
“That’s not— all, I just—” Mu Qing lets out an angry huff of air. “What is this, anyway? When did you get a dog?”
“A few months ago. Her name is Xi-wang. She’s San Lang’s baby, so you’d better be nice to her. I don’t think even I could stop him if you hurt her.”
“I’m not going to—why would I hurt her? She’s just a dog.”
“I don’t know, Mu Qing,” Xie Lian says wearily. “So why else are you here?”
Mu Qing folds his arms across his chest, glaring at the cattle in the distance. “Because I miss you, okay?” he spits. “Because I miss seeing you, and spending time with you, and if I had known that pissing off your husband would have caused this then—”
“You didn’t just piss off my husband,” Xie Lian says, his shoulders tensing. “If you had just pissed off my husband, I daresay very little would have changed. San Lang always lets you come around as much as you want, no matter how he feels, because he knows it makes me happy. You pissed me off this time, Mu Qing. If you can’t even apologize for saying cruel things to him, then I don’t want the two of you around each other.”
The door on the far side of the cottage creaks open, and Xi-wang takes off with a yelp of excitement. Xie Lian can’t see Hua Cheng around the corner of the cottage, but he hears his husband’s own startled yelp when the dog careens into his legs. The sound is followed closely by laughter.
“Xi-wang, really!” one of the most dangerous things in the world exclaims, his voice bright and syrupy-sweet the way it always is when he speaks to their puppy. “You’re too much sometimes, aren’t you? Aren’t you? Yes you are— meimei, sweet girl, what are you so excited for? Where’s gege, princess? Where’d he go?”
“What,” Mu Qing says politely, “the fuck.”
Xie Lian shrugs. “She’s his baby.”
“Gege?” Hua Cheng pokes his head around the corner of the cottage; his expression immediately sours when he sees Mu Qing. “Oh. We have company.”
“Not for much longer. Mu Qing, we can visit another time.”
“I—no, I—”
Xie Lian places himself between Mu Qing and his family. “You shouldn’t be here. This is San Lang’s home, too.”
“I’m sorry! I’m sorry, okay?” Mu Qing finally huffs, looking towards Hua Cheng. “You’re not as awful as I thought you’d be, so—I’m sorry I said that stuff.”
“Huh,” Hua Cheng says. “Asshole. But I get it—you were just trying to protect Xie Lian.”
“But we can agree that Mu Qing was wrong because I don’t need to be protected from San Lang, right?” Xie Lian asks. Hua Cheng’s mouth pinches. “Right, San Lang?”
“Right. I guess.”
“San Lang is a great gege, and he’s going to be a great dad. If I ever hear you insinuate otherwise, Mu Qing—” Xie Lian narrows his eyes sharply. “I really don’t know what I’ll do, but it won’t be nice.”
“I won’t say that stuff again,” Mu Qing sighs. “If you say he’s really that good, then...I should believe you.”
“Yes. You should. I’m really not that stupid,” Xie Lian says, putting his hands on his hips. “I’ve been with San Lang for such a long time, now, and he’s still the sweetest man I know. If I had any doubts about him, I wouldn’t be here. But you made him feel very badly. I won’t tolerate that anymore.”
“Gege,” Hua Cheng says, “it’s okay. You don’t need to—”
“San Lang is my husband, and no one gets to talk bad about him,” Xie Lian says firmly. “Not even my friends. Especially not my friends.”
“I get it. Your Highness, I won’t do it again.”
“Good. In that case…” Xie Lian relaxes, allowing a smile to cross his face. “San Lang, would you mind if Mu Qing stayed for tea?”
“Do whatever you want,” Hua Cheng says, hefting a basket into his arms. “I’m going to feed the chickens. C’mon, meimei.”
Xi-wang trots alongside Hua Cheng as he heads towards the coop, her tail wagging hard enough to sway her haunches. Xie Lian steps aside to usher Mu Qing into the cottage. He can’t deny that he’s missed his friend; he knows this argument will be a thorn between them for some time yet, and it’s undoubtedly pushed Mu Qing and Hua Cheng even farther apart. But, they have time. Maybe, one day, the two of them can really forgive each other.
It’s a nice thought, anyway.
Their bed is very full now.
Hua Cheng curls up in his sleep, and Xie Lian wraps around him. E-ming has taken to dulling itself and sneaking beneath the covers to press against Xie Lian’s back, where Ruoye will wrap around it to hold it throughout the night. Xi-wang has grown large and lanky, and she sprawls at the foot of their bed. There isn’t room for more, and half of the time Xie Lian finds his limbs hanging off of the mattress anyway. He wonders how they’re going to fit children between them.
But, he supposes and smiles, they can always build a bigger bed.