Hua Chang couldn’t move. He couldn’t speak. His whole world was shattering and reforming too fast for him to handle.
His highness…
Wu Ming…
He’d…
He’d loved…
Wanted…
Remembered
Hua Cheng hadn’t even been sure if Xie Lian would remember Wu Ming, let alone…
Let alone…
…love
Beloved
Had he really??? Had he really called him…
Fuck
Just
Fuck
“Would you still want him?” If Hua Cheng thought his voice was dry before it’s nothing to how it is now, a shaking raspy gasp that leaves his lips in barely more than a whisper. “If… if you could still have him now, would you still want him?”
Xie Lian’s eyes snap to Hua Cheng as though only just remembering that the ghost is in the room and Hua Cheng sees the pain reflected in those beautiful golden orbs. He has no idea what his own eye looks like.
“What?” Xie Lian just stares blankly at him for a moment. “I mean of course I would but that hardly matters. He’s gone. I saw it. I saw him torn apart, and White No Face said that his soul was completely destroyed.
“White No Face lied.” The words leave Hua Cheng’s lips in a shaky whisper, more breath than sound, but Xie Lian hears him. Of course he does. Xie Lian has always heard his prayers.
“W-What?” Xie Lian’s eyes widen, his whole body tensing, and for the first time he really seems to see Hua Cheng, Hua Cheng whose face and voice no longer hold any of the poise or self control that the ghost has always made sure to have there ever since returning to his god’s side. “San Lang, what are you saying?” Xie Lian’s words are a demand that Hua Cheng cannot disobey.
“White No Face lied.” He says it and then, because doesn’t know what else to do, he continues. “He wasn’t disbursed completely. He didn’t have any conscious thought left but he floated on the wind, reforming. Eventually he was pulled to Mount. Tonglu when it opened. That’s where he regained a physical form. His mind still wasn’t …completely back but he fought there and afterward, after he emerged from the kiln, he dedicated himself to searching for his for his beloved…” And then, because how can Hua Cheng keep this to himself when his god has been so honest with him, he whispers three more words. “…Searching for you.”
A soft sound escapes Xie Lian’s lips, somewhere between a gasp and a cry. His hands are pressed his lips, his whole body shaking as tears well in his beautiful eyes and Hua Cheng knows he’s understood. How could he not? The mention of the kiln was admission enough. Only three ghost kings have ever emerged from the darkness of that volcano and by this point Xie Lian knows them all.
Only one of those ghost kings has spent his days following Xie Lian on his missions, clinging onto him like a lost puppy.
Only one of those ghost kings has protected Xie Lian at every chance he’s gotten, kissed his lips, carried him in his arms.
Only one of those ghost kings is sitting before him, shaking like a leaf in the wind.
“San Lang…? Are… Are you…” Xie Lian’s voice is shaking and muffled by the hands still pressed to his lips but Hua Cheng understands him anyway. He will always understand him.
And Hua Cheng needs to know this is real, needs his god to know this is real, so he changes, his form flowing seamlessly, his shoulders thinning, his robes darkening, his anguished features melting into the neutrality of a smiling mask.
“Your highness, I will forever be your most devoted believer.”
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