under red skies

YEAR THIRTEEN ⏳

"This work is absolutely exquisite…" The young woman muses, dragging her fingertips over the shawl in front of her. The materials are simple—but the flower pattern is quite intricate. "How did you manage to—?"

She stops awkwardly, realizing her rudeness.

The man sitting behind the stall smiles, the white bandage around his eyes gleaming gently in the sun, "It's okay—I'm not sensitive about it. I wasn't born this way—I didn't lose my sight until recently."

Well, not exactly recently, but you know.

"…O-Oh," she laughs stiffly.

"So you can still remember things, and what it was like to…you know…" She clears her throat awkwardly.

"See?" Xie Lian questions, a pleasant smile still in place. He sounds amused, even as the young lady continues to poke around the stall. "Yes, I remember it pretty well."

"Are you gonna buy something or not?" A nearby voice interrupts rudely.

A little boy sits on top of a crate, staring at the young girl with an imperious glare, and she blanches slightly, fumbling in her purse for a few coins.

"And don't short change him either! He'll know."

The village girl huffs, crossing her arms. "I wouldn't ever cheat a blind person!" She says this, but she's piling a few extra coins into her hand anyway. "How would you know, anyway?!"

The young man flushes with embarrassment. "Because I tried once, alright?!"

And it was embarrassing . Not just a little awkward, mind you—and honestly, it would have been easier if the weaver had just beaten him up for something—but no.

No, instead, he cheerfully accompanied the boy home, then, in front of his parents, corrected the mistake.

The worst part was that he was so pleasant about it, explaining "he had a difficult time counting coins when he was young, too" and it was an "easy mistake to make."

But the boy's father knew that it wasn't, and as punishment, he has to help with the stall for an entire month .

And let him tell you—

It's not actually as boring as he thought it was gonna be.

"And just trust me—it ain't worth it," he mumbles, his ears still stinging from the cuffing his parents gave him.

"How does he know, anyway?!"

"How should I know?! He's magic!"

This prompts a string of nervous laughter from the young cultivator, waving that statement off, "Hahahaha, Heng, why are you being so silly? I'm just a simple Taoist, the martial arts training helps, that's all."

The girl crosses her arms. "What's that got to do with coins?"

Heng throws his hands up, like she might as well be preaching to the choir. "And if he's been blind for such a short time, now does he know how to do all this stuff? You're telling me. The guy's weird! And…kinda scary."

Xie Lian's eyebrow twitches as Heng leans over to her.

"I've seen his bandage move on it's own, sometimes…"

"He doesn't think I'm scary," Xie Lian cuts the boy off with a smile. "If he did, he wouldn't be so comfortable with getting on my nerves, would he?"

The girl thinks that over with a nod, handing over the coins.

(Heng, however, looks slightly nervous.)

"Thanks, mister!" She hums, throwing the shawl around her shoulders. "I'll tell everyone back home about your shop!"

With that, she prances off—all while Xie Lian slips the coins into the pouch at his waist, reaching for his basket.

Heng leans forward eagerly, but the prince turns away, hugging the basket to his chest.

"Mr. Hua!" The boy whines, "I'm hungry!"

Xie Lian sniffs, pulling out a meat bun for himself, "Go get lunch from someone who isn't weird and terrifying."

Heng gawks at him, his jaw slack.

"I didn't mean it! And I thought Taoists were supposed to be generous and forgiving!"

Well, sure. And usually, Xie Lian is—but he's gotten rather used to being alone in the last ten years, and the forced, constant contact with Heng has gotten…

Grating.

There are moments when he actually enjoys the kid's company—it reminds him of Hong-er, sometimes.

…But Hong-er's occasionally difficult attitude was always cute, because it was never pointed in Xie Lian's direction.

"Yeah, well—" he nibbles at his bun, "I got kicked out."

Heng frowns, "Kicked out of what?!"

Xie Lian swallows, "Taoist school."

The boy's eyes widen, "There's a school?!"

The nice thing about the bandages? No one can see when Xie Lian is rolling his eyes. "Yes. Very exclusive."

"Why'd you get kicked out?"

"…" He huffs out a sigh

"I had a bit of a rough decade," Xie Lian mutters, and his companion stares.

"…You say the weirdest stuff sometimes," the kid grumbles, crossing his arms. "…I'm sorry, though, I shouldn't have called you scary."

He doesn't take back the part about Xie Lian being weird, though

"…And I think it's cool that your bandage movies!" Heng adds, noticing the way one end of the wide silk band gives a little wiggle in excitement. "I won't tell anyone else about it again, promise!"

Mr. Hua is a really weird person, Heng has always thought that—but he's nice.

He showed up in the village four years ago, when Heng was still a little kid—and people around have gotten used to him for the most part.

That being said…he's odd. He knows everything, can do stuff that most blind people can't—

And he's completely alone, all the time.

Heng asked his mom about it once—and she got this sad sort of look on her face, explaining that sometimes, it can be pretty tiring, looking after someone who needs extra help. People leave.

Which Heng doesn't understand, because Mr. Hua really doesn't need a lot of "extra help."

Heng has a running theory that he was probably rich before. That would explain why he knows so many things and…

He might be older than Heng, pretty much a grown up, but he's kind of bratty and fussy sometimes.

But now, without looking back—

He offers the boy a meat bun.

"…" Heng grins, reaching out to snatch it up, "Thank you, Mr. Hua!"

All you have to do is be SORT OF nice to Mr. Hua, not even that nice—and he'll always be decent to you. He's a good, trustworthy person.

"You know…I heard something kinda cool today,"

The boy brings up conversationally, chewing.

"Oh?" Xie Lian sighs, picking at the edges of his bun, slowly taking another bite. "What's that?"

"Thaaat there's a new ghost king!" The boy sits forward, grinning.

Xie Lian lifts his chin, tilting his head, "…A ghost king?"

"Yeah! Like, y'know, a calamity?"

The Taoist pales, nearly crushing his meat bun under his fingers as he looks at him more directly, "…Like the white no-face?!"

"…" The kid leans away from him, his eyes a little wide. "No? This is a different one!"

Xie Lian sags.

He clutches his chest with relief for a moment, letting out a shaky breath.

He's gone.

Jun Wu killed him.

His fingers stroke over Hong-er, slowly.

He can't hurt you or anyone else anymore.

"…Okay, there's a new one," Xie Lian mutters. "What's he like?"

"Weird, apparently,"

Heng takes another bite, "Sort of like you!"

Xie Lian tries to give him a look, but, well—it's hard, when you can't actually glare at someone properly. "What's his name?"

"Dunno," the kid shrugs, "but…" he looks over at the Taoist with a grin, "he's gonna be here tonight!"

Xie Lian raises an eyebrow. It's not exactly a…bustling metropolis, this town. It's a decent enough place, near the city—but not exactly somewhere for any major spirits to come to haunt. "Here?"

"Yeah!" Peng's smile widens. "Cause my friend is gonna summon him!"

The ghost king in question, at that moment, isn't haunting anyone.

Technically, he's not even doing his day job.

"Mark it," he growls, not lifting his face from the silk pillow on his chaise lounge.

"…Okay, okay big fella," Fai sighs, stretching up on his stool.

With a piece of chalk, he adds another tally mark to the wall—which is already covered in them.

Give it up for day four thousand, seven hundred and ninety: with no dianxia. Not even a rumor or a whisper of anyone remotely like him.

Hua Cheng slams his face into the pillow again

How. How is one, very, very beautiful, extremely blind man who dresses very distinctively so difficult to find?!

The door swings open, and before Xiang can say a word, Fai waves his hands in warning. "I wouldn't say anything," the ghost mumbles. "He's in a mood."

"Isn't he always in a mood?"

"Well," Fai pauses, because that—that is also true. "He's in the same mood as yesterday I guess, but it's not a good mood."

"And I'm not the one who had something to tell Hua Chengzhu," Xiang shrugs, crossing his arms. "It was this one."

'This one,' meaning Yanlin, who is standing between Shuo and Bao, shifting her weight from foot to foot, somewhat awkwardly.

"…Hi," she mumbles, holding her elbow sheepishly.

Hua Cheng lifts his head with a grunt, "That tone does not excite me."

"It shouldn't," Bao grumbles.

"What's she done now?"

"Nothing bad!" Yanlin mumbles, crossing her arms and looking away. "I was just trying to make friends!"

Which doesn't sound so bad, until Bao points out—

" Human friends."

Hua Cheng lets out a heavy sigh. "What did you do?"

"…Told some stories…"

Yanlin mumbles, rubbing the side of her head—and when Bao glares are her, she adds, "…About you…"

The ghost king whips his head around to look at her, and she holds her hands up. "Not BAD stories, they're great! They make you sound really cool!"

"…In what way?" He questions slowly.

The little girl shifts around, twiddling her thumbs awkwardly, mumbling, "…Have you been getting any…prayers, lately?"

"…Yanlin," he groans, pressing his hands against his temples. "I'm going to disperse you."

"I was trying to help!"

"Tell him what you said!" Bao grumbles, irritated with her stalling, and Yanlin huffs.

"Just the truth! That he saved us, and led us home with the lanterns." She mumbles. "But I wanted the humans to like me, so…I embellished…"

"Embellished." Hua Cheng repeats flatly.

"I kinda…made it sound like…if they were in trouble, or lost…they could light a lantern and pray to you, and…"

Hua Cheng sinks back down against his chaise lounge. "How many times," Yanlin shrinks, "How many times do I have to tell you, I am NOT a god?!"

"He rejected the job offer and everything," Shuo agrees, "It was like, BOOM!" He pantomimes crashing back down to earth by jumping in the air, then rolling on the floor, "Then swoooosh!" He jumps back, up, pretending to swing and an imaginary scimitar, "and ahhhh!"

He's tired.

Hua Cheng is grateful that fate made him fall in love with a man at a very young age. And that even if he hadn't, death came for him before he was stupid enough to have children of his own.

They are exhausting, they don't listen—and they cause more trouble than they're worth.

"Okay, but he did ascend, he can answer prayers if he wants to, he's immortal, he has magic powers—" Yanlin lifts up a finger as she lists each piece of evidence to her point "I don't get what difference there is between him and a god!"

"Several practical differences, actually,"

Fai pipes up helpfully. "I'm sure you've noticed young lady—but you haven't stopped aging since your death, have you?"

Yanlin crosses her arms, thinking it over. "I did lose a tooth last month," she comments, wiggling her tongue in the new hole in her overbite. "It was weird."

The older ghost nods, "Just like our bodies decay after death, our spirits age as well. Much more slowly than humans—and more powerful Ghosts like Hua Chengzhu can slow or stop their aging if they choose to do so—but a god's spirit will never age, no matter how long they exist."

Hua Cheng drops his head back into the pillow, making low, irritated noises.

"But…what if I ascended?" Yanlin questions, eyes wide.

Like that's somehow a real possibility for someone who still hasn't learned how, at the literal age of twenty one (and the spiritual age of seven), to lace her own boots. Bao does it for her every morning.

"Would I stay little forever?"

"Children don't ever ascend," Fai waves that off. "But when teenagers do, their spirits will shift to the age of their peak physical form, if they had reached a human life. Hua Chengzhu's body did that when he ascended, isn't that right?"

"I suppose." Hua Cheng grumbles, not interested in the little lesson that's unfolding.

It was more obvious for Xie Lian, who ascended at around the same age Hua Cheng was, when he died—Hua Cheng (who, while the prince didn't know it at the time, was still watching him from afar) watched how the god's body went from that of a teenager, to a man in his early twenties

By contrast, there was a gap of several years between Hua Cheng's death and his ascension—and in that time, his spirit changed forms twice, changing his true form from what it would have been naturally—and then, he ascended into…

A form he hasn't worn again outside of the Kiln.

He shifts his shape somewhat frequently these days—in large part because, like the best predators, he learns from other hunters.

No matter how hard the Ghost King tries, he can't remember Bai Wuxiang's true face. He knows he saw it, in Zhao Beitong's memories—but he can't…

When he does know, however—was that part of the power the ghost possessed stemmed from the fact that no one ever knew what he truly looked like.

Anonymity can, in many ways, be a dangerous weapon.

Aside from that—it's been years since anyone commented negatively on Hua Cheng's appearance. Because he controls what faces they see, how, and when.

After a lifetime of being called hideous, you would become fond of masks too, wouldn't you?

"But…" Yanlin frowns. "If Hua Chengzhu can age, how is he immortal?"

"Because I can use spiritual power to stop aging," Hua Cheng mutters. "If I choose to do so."

Which he has, for the most part. He doesn't want to be too much older than his beloved when he finds him again, after all, but…

When he remembers how his god always used to fawn over him, treating him like a child—particularly how he used to laugh over how cute it was when Hong-er's voice was changing…

Hua Cheng let's his body get a little older. Just to…impress the point that he IS a grown man, now.

Physically speaking, he's several years older than Xie Lian by now—

( Not that it matters, a voice in the back of his head grumbles, he won't know I'm Hong-er, anyway.)

—and when he does find him, if he witnesses Hua Cheng's true form, it won't be one he views as…childish.

"…Okay, but if he can stop aging, he's basically still a god!" Yanlin shrugs. "So, I wasn't wrong, and I didn't—!"

"No, There are other key differences." Fai holds up a finger. "For example, goddesses can still conceive children—female ghosts cannot."

If they could, it would be far more convenient—they'd have less demented little fetus spirits running around, particularly in the wake of the war, that…

Hua Cheng's eyebrows knit together, forcing himself not to contemplate that gruesome matter.

"Can gods have children too?"

"Yes, but it hasn't happened in quite some time—it normally never ends well." Fai explains.

Bao frowns, scratching his head. "Wait, does that mean male ghosts can't have kids either?"

"No, they can," Hua Cheng speaks up this time. "But any human woman who carries a ghost's child will die in childbirth. It's a relatively common curse."

Yanlin doesn't seem so happy or curious about the subject of ghost biology anymore, though Hua Cheng really can't understand why, she was the one who brought it up—

"Why would a lady ever let a ghost put a baby inside her if she knew it was gonna kill her?" Shuo frowns. "That's just dumb!"

Xiang sits up eagerly, rubbing his hands together, "Oh, I know the answer to THAT one—!"

"No, you don't." Hua Cheng cuts him off, his tone threatening.

"…" Xian deflates slightly, crossing his arms and looking away. "Yeah, I guess I don't."

Yanlin lifts her chin, finally speaking up again, "Mr. Fai, how do you know so much stuff?"

"Well, I was a teacher when I was alive," the slightly rotund ghost answers cheerfully.

A teacher with a fatal gambling problem, but yes. A teacher. A private tutor, more specifically—for the same family that owned the gambling den that would lead to his eventual demise.

"Hua Chengzhu has been generous enough to allow this humble ghost to continue his education!"

It's mutually beneficial, after all—Hua Cheng could only read one language to speak of, upon leaving Mount Tonglu, and it was a dead one.

Fai has poor skills when it comes to risk assessment and common sense—but he's a good teacher, and he hasn't said a word about their lessons.

Hua Cheng finds himself slowly learning more about the world, as time goes on. Searching for his god still consumes his time in many ways—but it's no longer the only noteworthy thing about his existence, and…the ghost king has learned certain things about himself.

He knows now that he likes liquor, but not wine. Enjoys spicy foods, but not particularly sweet things. Hong-er never had the money to develop a 'palette' in his human life, and when he was a ghost, following his god…he never had the chance to find out.

And it's more than that.

He learned as much in the Kiln—but he enjoys creating things, particularly beautiful things, but not always. He enjoys fighting and hunting—he's terrible with music, as much as he enjoys it, and—

Hua Cheng discovered through Fai, oddly enough, a genuine passion for learning.

About anything. About everything. Sometimes, because it makes him feel as though he could be more useful to his god, when he finds him, or…

Sometimes, there's a hunger inside of him. A need to devour every text he can get his hands on, to fulfill a burning natural curiosity.

The world was so small, when he was human. So limited, ugly, cruel, and boring.

But when Xie Lian told him stories in the shrine they used to live in—Hua Cheng is fairly certain the god must have thought Hong-er was just being polite, but—he was rapt with interest.

That was Hua Cheng's first hint of interest in the idea of learning more about the world—that it could be more than just this unpleasant, uninteresting thing.

Then, in the Kiln…he learned what it was like to view the world through the eyes of a scholar.

And his curiosity grew.

It makes him happy, sometimes—because he remembers how Xie Lian was the same. How happy he seemed, when he remembered his time studying under the Guoshi, and…

At the time, Hong-er had always assumed himself incapable of following a similar path. Too stupid, imperfect, and human

But now, he's had the chance to discover the fact that he's a fast learner—a hungry learner. And that, one day…

He could catch up.

But none of that has anything to do with the subject at hand.

"The point is," Hua Cheng speaks up, interrupting the debate, "I'm not a god."

Yanlin opens her mouth to argue, and the Ghost King speaks over her, "And now, I have countless children praying to me for…what, exactly?"

"Help," the little girl replies.

"As in—?"

"If they're lost, or if someone's hurting them," she shrugs. "That's all I said."

And from her point of view—saving children from that is exactly what the Ghost King does.

"…" Hua Cheng lets out a heavy sigh, dropping back Down onto his couch. "Stop telling them that, Yanlin."

"But—!"

He points to the wall of tally marks irritably. "That's my priority."

"…" She kicks at some imaginary dirt on the floor with her shoe. "Whatever," the little girl mumbles, turning on her heel and running out of the room. "Who CARES!"

Shuo watches her go, tilting his head curiously before looking up at Bao. "It sounds like she cares."

Bao shrugs.

"Girls are crazy, she—" Both boys pause, noticing that Fai's initial statement…wasn't incorrect.

Hua Chengzhu is in a mood .

Slowly—respectfully—they give him space, and Hua Cheng rolls onto his back, glaring at the ceiling.

Thirteen years.

He's been out of the Kiln for longer than he was in it—and he still hasn't gotten any closer to finding his god than he was before. There's that constant reassurance that he's alright, that he must be—because Hong-er's ashes have been undisturbed, but…

Hua Cheng throws an arm over his face with an irritated grumble.

What's the point of power, if you can't use it for the things that matter? He—

It's now, in the quiet, left with his own thoughts, that the Ghost King hears them.

Prayers.

Dozens of quiet pleas—all from children

The stories they tell aren't pleasant to hear—but nearly all of them, the ghost king is familiar with.

Parents who beat them. Fathers who drink. Constantly being hungry, or forced to do things against their will.

It's horrible, but normal.

But…a few prayers stick out.

All the same. All frightened, terrified voices, whispering—

'Don't let it come for me.'

Hua Cheng's brow furrows, his eyes closed.

'Please—Hua Chengzhu, I'll light as many lanterns as you want—keep me and my baby sister safe? I don't want it to get me—'

'Hua Chengzhu,' a little voice cries out miserably, 'it found me.'

All of the voices are coming from the same region—and all of them are praying for salvation from one thing. Something hunting them.

And everyone calls it by the same name.

'The Night Touring Green Lantern.'

Xie Lian's presence has become somewhat of a cause for debate.

"Did you have to bring a grown up?" One of the other kids grumbles, crossing her arms. "The Ghost King doesn't help adults, he might not even come now."

Heng rolls his eyes, "Mr. Hua barely counts as a grown up!"

He pulls Xie Lian along by the sleeve—not particularly helpful, he almost makes the god trip over his own feet several times, but the intention to be of assistance is there. "He's scared of spiders and eats food off the floor, just like us!"

"Well—" Xie Lian tries to interrupt,

"I don't think that's completely true—!"

"Yeah it is!" Heng huffs, tugging him along faster, now. "I see you drop your food and pick it up and eat it all the time!"

In his defense, when you can't see things, you drop them a lot—and he can't afford to buy a new meal every time.

He's instituted a five second rule, and he always blows the dust off and rubs it with his sleeve first. That's fine, right?

"He didn't say he wasn't scared of spiders, though." One of the other children mumbles to her friend, speaking behind her hand, and Xie Lian turns his head

"Do YOU like spiders?"

The little girl falls silent, clearly embarrassed—thinking that whispering made it so the Taoist wouldn't hear her, but clearly that wasn't the case.

"It's worse when you can't see them," Xie Lian huffs, allowing Heng to pull him along.

He's never liked bugs, actually—ever since he was a little boy. The exceptions of course being fireflies, ladybugs, and butterflies. Those were pretty, and they didn't sting, bite, or do anything else horrifying.

Spiders, however? Ugh.

His friends actually found it quite funny.

The famous crown prince of Xianle, a famous, imposing warrior—could often be sent running by the sight of a tiny little arachnid, clinging to Mu Qing's shirt, dragging him over to smash it with a broom.

'You'll hunt demons for sport, but you're scared of THAT?'

'Don't laugh!'

Xie Lian would whine, 'I'm pretty sure this is the kind that ju—OH, MU QING, IT'S JUMPING—!'

If it was Feng Xin, he'd just drop all decorum and leap onto his guard's back, arms wrapped around the guard's head at one point when they were traveling and came across a tarantula.

Of course, his friend had made some terribly reasonable point about not being able to kill any bugs with Xie Lian's arms wrapped around his eyes—to which the prince adjusted his grip, but refused to come down until the little creature was slain.

He almost smiles now, remembering

"…" His steps slow slightly, lips abandoning any attempt at happiness, turning back down into a frown, heart aching.

He misses them.

Not every day. It's not as bad as missing Hong-er, or his parents—because he knows Mu Qing and Feng Xin are alive and well.

They're happy.

They're gods now in their own right—even Mu Qing, who hadn't ascended as an official the last time they fought…

Xie Lian bites his lip, taking a steadying breath. He doesn't cry as easily as he used to—but his chest often seizes up with the weight of it all, and he feels so…

But it's okay. It—

It's okay.

He reminds himself of that, every time. And if it gets too worrisome…he'll go to one of their temples. Light some incense, leave a bowl of rice. Xie Lian never prays, doesn't want to trouble them like that—

He doesn't want their pity, anyway.

"Are you sure this is the spot?" One of the children whines. "I don't see anything!"

"That's because I haven't lit the lantern yet, obviously!" Another voice replies—somewhat snidely now, catching Xie Lian's attention. "Would you stop rushing me? It's a delicate operation!"

"Lit the lantern?" He questions softly, dropping to his knees in order to kneel down next to the boy on the grass. "Why do you need to light a lantern?"

The young man sets the red paper lantern down on the ground in front of him, pulling out a set of matches.

"Because that's how you call him," the boy grumbles, glancing back at Heng with annoyance. "Did you explain ANYTHING before you brought him?!"

Heng crosses his arms, rubbing his nose with a sniff, "I told him we were summoning a ghost king! What else did I need to say?!"

"He's probably not gonna be able to do it anyway," One of the village girls giggles, shaking her head. "I bet he's just lying again!"

From what Xie Lian can understand—there are about five children in the group, excluding him—and the boy actually performing the summoning…

He doesn't seem particularly popular among them. Xie Lian doubts they're even friends—and the other children are most likely only here to stop and watch the show as it unfolds.

Depressing—but normal, for kids that age.

"SHUT UP!" The boy snaps, fumbling with his matches.

"He'll definitely come, alright?! That's the whole point," he mutters, holding a lit match inside the lantern, slowly sparking the small candle inside to life.

"You're not lost, though," Heng comments.

"…The Ghost King helps lost children?" Xie Lian raises an eyebrow.

"That's…very kind of him."

"And if you tell him that someone is mistreating you," the boy with the lantern stands up, holding it out into the dark. "He'll show up and beat them to death for you!"

The prince's smile fades slightly.

That's…less kind of him, to put it lightly.

But compared to the last ghost king…Xie Lian can't say that it isn't an improvement. Besides—nobody's perfect, right?

"…He feels very strongly about child welfare, then?"

The village girl speaks up again, leaning against a nearby tree. It's gotten dark now—fog creeping in.

"I heard it was cause he was some kid that got tortured to death!" She explains, clearly wanting to take advantage of the slightly chilling atmosphere.

(To Xie Lian, it's all pretty much the same.)

"No…" Heng frowns.

"I heard it was cause he girl he fell in love with got tortured." The boy explains. "The village exiled her, and by the time he found her—she'd already been eaten by wolves."

Well, somehow that's even more gruesome—and he has the other children's attention.

Xie Lian grimaces.

"If that's true, how did he die?!"

"Well," Heng sits forward, grinning. "He went mad with grief, and clawed out his own eye!" He receives several horrified gasps in response. "He bled to death. And now, his eye looks down on everyone, and that's how he sees the lanterns!"

"…I don't actually think a man can bleed to death from losing an eye," Xie Lian comments lightly. "And most wouldn't have the…grit, to do something like that."

After all—he's a bit of an expert on pain. He can barely feel it even more—and even he would hesitate to do that.

"Well, that's what I heard!" Heng shrugs. "Maybe he killed himself after, who knows."

"Most suicide victims don't linger as ghosts," Xie Lian shakes his head again. "They don't have the will to linger on."

Unless it was a bitter suicide—and he supposes that situation counts.

Heng crosses his arms, clearly annoyed that the weaver has contradicted him in front of his friends twice, now. "Did they teach you all of this in Taoist school?" He questions dryly.

"…" Xie Lian laughs awkwardly, rubbing the back of his head. "Haha, they sure did!"

"The same one they kicked you out of?"

"Haha—!" Xie Lian stops laughing suddenly, and now they two are glaring at one another. Well—Heng is glaring at him, Xie Lian is just scowling underneath Ruoye in his general direction.

"…Yan, I don't think he's coming." The girl groans.

"Shut up!" The boy snaps again, holding his lantern a little higher. "He'll definitely come! It's only been a couple of minutes."

Xie Lian can't see the boy—Yan's—expression, but he sounds…tense, almost nervous.

Heng, seeming to want to kill time, sits down beside the prince.

"Aren't Taoist's supposed to be able to do magic tricks?" The boy grumbles, bumping his shoulder against Xie Lian. "Like…breaking swords in half, reading palms, making stuff disappear?"

"Sure," Xie Lian replies dryly. "We know a thing or two."

Heng leans forward eagerly.

"Like what—? Ow!" He helps, suddenly going sprawling on his back. The other children don't actually see what happened, but…

A certain bandage flicked the boy in the forehead. Hard.

"What was that?!"

Xie Lian picks at his nails, "A magic trick."

"What kind of magic is that?!"

The Taoist glances over, practically sticking his tongue out at the little boy, "Making someone's dignity disappear."

Heng gawks, clutching his forehead, and the village girl giggles behind her hand. "I see what you meant about him not being a real grown up now!"

Xie Lian opens his mouth to protest when Heng speaks up again, smug now, "I didn't even have to tell him about the spider on his leg to prove it to you."

The god rolls his eyes. "Oh, right, because there's conveniently a spider on my leg the MOMENT you want to prove a—"

Of course, there's one thing Xie Lian isn't used yet:

His newfound, extremely rotten luck.

Which is impressed upon him the moment he feels something jump up from his knee, scuttling across his hand.

"…"

The children watch the blood rapidly drain from the Taoist's cheeks.

It's not like he presented this rough around the edges, hyper masculine persona to begin with—but watching him flail his wrist, shrieking like a little girl, they—

"EEEEEEEAK!"

His fist slams into the trunk of a nearby tree—

…Snapping it in half.

The kids stand around in a shocked semi circle, watching as the blind man slams his fist into the trunk two more times to ensure that the spider (which is surely obliterated by now) is gone, reducing it to little more than a pile of splinters.

"…Hah," Xie Lian lets out a shaky sigh, clutching his hand to his chest, trembling slightly. It must seem so silly to some, after everything he's been through, but—

There's so little left that scares him now, when he encounters fear—even over the silliest things, he…struggles.

It takes him a moment to sense the staring, and…

"…Hahaha!" He laughs again, but slightly more nervous and strained than awkward, this time— "And that's…another Taoist magic trick!"

"…" Yan leans over, mumbling to Heng, "…Is Mr. Hua crazy?"

"…Kinda," the boy admits.

"But he's nice, so…"

Slowly, the girl standing behind them shakes herself out of it. "Yan, I really don't think he's coming—me and Jun are going home." She mutters, grabbing her little brother's hand, both of them starting to walk back.

"I told you to wait a minute!"

The boy cries, throwing his hands up as he watches the other boy that came from their village leave too, trailing behind his friends. "…Who needs you anyways! He probably didn't show up because he doesn't like LOSERS!" The kid shouts, turning around with a huff.

"…" Heng grimaces, muttering 'yikes' under his breath, leaning close to whisper in Xie Lian's ear, "That's why no one likes him, he's always yelling at everyone."

The prince frowns, but with sympathy.

"Well," Heng makes a big show of yawning, stretching his arms over his head. "I'm pretty tired, y'know—helping in the shop all day is pretty tough, so—!"

"Just go, Heng!" Yan snaps. "I'll wait by myself! I don't care!"

He holds the red lantern to his chest stubbornly, and Heng makes a face, rising to his face. "Yeah, yeah, just chase everyone off…That's what you always do." He grumbles, walking away.

"…" Yan sniffs, kneeling back down to the ground, his arms wrapped around his lantern, holding it against his chest. "You think I care? It's fine."

Oh.

Xie Lian's chest begins to ache.

"I'm better off on my own, anyway."

Heng glances back over his shoulder, slightly annoyed. "Hey, Taoist—you coming?"

Yan turns his head, just to see Xie Lian still sitting behind him, shaking out his wrist a little awkwardly.

"…No," the cultivator shakes his head. "You go on home, I'll see you in the morning."

"You sure?"

"Mhm," Xie Lian hums—and all of the irritation before, that short tempered attitude…it's replaced with this calm, patient air that Yan..doesn't know what to do with, watching him awkwardly.

The Taoist smiles, and…his expression is so…

Gentle.

"I want to meet this Ghost King, anyway." Xie Lian hums, crossing his legs underneath him. "I don't mind waiting a little longer."

"…You don't have to stay because you feel sorry for me," Yan grumbles, hugging his lantern tighter. "I don't want that."

"…" The prince snorts.

"I wouldn't worry about that."

"I don't want anyone looking down on me!"

"I don't think I can look down on anyone," Xie Lian points out dryly, making the boy flush with sheepishness.

"…Whatever," he mutters, holding his lantern tighter.

They sit, and they wait—for hours.

Until it must be after midnight—and Xie Lian knows the boy is tired. He can sense it from the way he sways in place, clutching his lantern tight.

The god isn't surprised—while he thought the story of a benevolent ghost king seemed very interesting, he didn't actually believe it.

But…that wasn't why he stayed behind.

"…Yan," He starts. "You—"

"He'll come," the boy shakes his head, his voice exhausted and…thick with anxiety. Desperation, even. "Everyone said he would come!"

Xie Lian falls silent for a moment, listening to the child's heart pound.

"Yan," he finally speaks again, his voice gentler this time. "When you said that he shows up to help mistreated children…was that true?"

The boy nods, hugging himself a little tighter—and after a moment, Xie Lian presses the matter.

"…Is someone mistreating you, Yan?"