Work Text:
They didn’t end up visiting the heavenly realm, this year.
Instead, Hua Cheng carried his beloved to their shared bedroom. Both decked in red, robes swaying with movements, the drapes of curtains painting a vividly enticing sight as the two of them grew lost in the other.
The night had been a passionate one, but Hua Cheng hadn’t let the other touch the box just yet. He wanted to make sure they were safe, for not everything in ghost city was necessarily so. After probing around and finally getting the details, only then did he breathe a sigh of relief.
It was very simple.
The person ate the pills, and their bodies would adjust to make space for a womb, a low-level magic that was harmless for powerful beings like them.
They could try after taking the pills, wait a minimum of a week before eating another and trying again.
Usage may vary depending on formulation, strength, and lineage.
Most first-timers have success by their second or third pill! The efficacy is truly amazing, I guarantee it!
And the guarantee really did seem to be sound. Hua Cheng could not find anything suspicious at all.
*
A few days later…
“No, no,” he says gently, taking the little hand in his, and guiding the brush slowly. The boy furrows his brows, concentrated, as he tries to follow. “Ma…” Xie Lian sounds out, and the boy follows along.
Each word, one by one, until the first line of the poem is done. The calligraphy looks smoother than before, and the boy glances back at him with shining eyes and a stilled expression, unable to hide away his reverent hope. “See? You’ve done so well.”
“Really?” he asks, glancing back at the paper. Xie Lian can see the pride in his face, marvelling at the sheet. “Then…Xie-laoshi, I’ll practice on my own too!”
Xie Lian smiles, rubbing a hand down the back of his head. Under the gentle light of the sun, it makes him look even softer around the edges, an inexplicable feel of safety in his mere gaze. “En. Practice well. I’ll go see the others, okay?”
The boy nods, immediately focused back on his work.
It wasn’t something that he’d really planned for, per se. During his time in Puqi Village, some of the younger kids would marvel and sit next to him when he’d draft out calligraphy sheets for Hua Cheng, asking him questions here and there.
Only a few families could afford to teach their children how to read and write, while even less could send them to a proper school. The tutors that were in the village often moved elsewhere once they saved a sizable amount, mere passer-bys that took up the work and nothing more.
And so, he’d let one or two of them try their hand. Guide those small fingers around a brush and watch them often make a mess of it, laughter filled afternoons as Hua Cheng stopped by, often amused by the sight of his husband surrounded by the little troublemakers.
It wasn’t until one of the families next door−an old man, whose son and daughter-in-law had passed in an accident, with only a granddaughter left behind−asked him if he could spare some time for a little learning, that he’d even considered it. Naturally, he agreed. Due to his duties, he’d warned in advance there might be no regularity, but the man was so thankful he did not care.
One, then turned to two. Then it turned to three, and before he knew it, he had a group of the village kids visiting classes every time he dropped by, all eager and attentive to learn. Xie Lian did not consider himself an expert, but he took the responsibility with humble determination. Reading, writing, the classics and literatures, as well as martial arts for those interested.
Somehow, he’d started up a whole school of sorts in the courtyard of his shrine, before Hua Cheng had a separate place built altogether. Some of the young men and women volunteered too, and even now, fifty years later, the place continued to run.
He’d seen all these little lives come through, grown attached, and felt pride in seeing them grow and make something of themselves. The fleeting sadness of hearing of their deaths, and ruminating over the passage of a man’s life.
Safe to say, contrary from his heavenly duties, it is a reprieve. A beautiful purpose. He can see potential and help so many of them. He can feel all the fatigue melt away, seeing them laugh and grow and run around and make a mess of things around him.
Gege?
Xie Lian smiles. The last of the kids are just finishing up, eagerly talking amongst themselves, excitement in the air in anticipation for tomorrow’s martial arts lesson.
San Lang?
He collects the papers in a neat pile on his desk, the sun dipping and casting oranges and reds across the fields. The sight reminds him of the view from the forests on Mt. Taicang, planning to head just there next.
Has gege finally spared time for this pitiful husband?
His heart flutters, as it always does, hearing the term of address. It will never soften the impact. Xie Lian’s lips turn up their corners from habit.
Isn’t it San Lang who left this one first?
Gege wounds me. It is gege who urges me away.
He shakes his head.
We can’t have you letting your city run in chaos, can we?
Hua Cheng’s tone is soft; light. Beautiful, as it skims over his consciousness.
I would let the world fall into chaos, if it meant a moment longer with my beloved.
He can feel the heat climb his cheeks, and paint his skin a blush he knows Hua Cheng adores seeing.
Ah San Lang. When you say things like that…what am I supposed to do with you?
A second.
And he can already feel it, without the need to even glance back. The sound of shoes against the floorboards, and familiar arms around his middle. A broad chest against his back, and two cold lips pressing against the skin of his neck, where a mischievous face buries against.
“For starters,” Hua Cheng says, deep and lovely, the sound washing over him in waves, “gege can show this one some affection.”
They head to Mount Taicang together, a short walk amongst the trees, before going to the cottage. It’s their haven; a place they both adored, a home in the mortal realm filled with none of the chaos or demand of the heavens or the city, where they could merely be an ordinary couple, living a seemingly ordinary life.
The moment he steps through though, Hua Cheng has him pressed against the doors, mouth hot on his. Xie Lian lets out a muffled sound, hand curling in the other’s fine crimson robes, relaxing into the kiss. Hua Cheng’s lips move languidly and sensually; the heat of his tongue exploring his own making him weak in the knees. His cold hands sliding around his waist and back to pull him closer and flush against him, bodies pressed so tightly together there was barely any room to breathe.
Xie Lian threads his fingers through the other’s hair, heart warming and heat pooling at the core of him. Hua Cheng’s gentle ministrations coupled with his eagerness were the perfect recipe to dismantle him head to toe; he can only gasp, when the other pulls away, leaving a trail of hot and wet kisses down his jaw, his neck.
“San Lang…” he breathes, chest rising and falling rapidly, cheeks painted pink with the oncoming pleasure coursing through him. Eyes growing misty as the other teethed against the delicate and fair skin of his neck, marring it with a blossoming bruise of affection. “Slow down…”
“Gege’s asking the impossible,” Hua Cheng murmurs, voice dark with desire. The hoarseness that tinged it making the arousal in his gut grow hotter, his hands eagerly smoothing around the curves of his back and hips, purposefully dragging them slowly and riling him up. Xie Lian’s eyes flutter as the other loosens the sash at his waist, robes pulled as they slipped down his shoulders.
He pushes against the other, Hua Cheng stumbling back before falling into the chair near their small desk, pulling him right into his lap. Xie Lian looks down at the other, a hand pressed against his husband’s cheek, watching the barest hints of red tint them, lips spit-slicked and eye a smoldering pool of desire.
Xie Lian does not hold the same finesse as his husband in these matters. But that does not mean he does not like making his desire and attraction towards the other not known. He leans down to capture those lips once more, Hua Cheng more than eager to comply, and slowly undo the eye patch behind the other’s head, Hua Cheng pulling open Xie Lian’s hair.
Hua Cheng’s mouth is such a lovely thing. The things they do and make him feel, the way they kiss him until he can barely think, senseless and dazed from the other’s skillful advances. His hand is a soothing coolness against Xie Lian’s heating face, cradling it like a precious treasure, while the other slips down behind him, grabbing a handful of his ass as he squeezes the flesh deeply.
Xie Lian groans against the other’s mouth. “Ah…” he can barely gasp, as those strong and long fingers knead his thigh, hip and ass again, eyes misty from want. “Ngh…San Lang…”
“Gege,” Hua Cheng whispers in the space between them, hiking one of his legs higher, Xie Lian inevitably coming to straddle it. The strong set of his thigh pressed against the pulsating heat of him, Xie Lian moaning aloud as Hua Cheng raises it higher, rubbing against his cock through the layers.
He can feel Hua Cheng too−and if he’d been a little more composed, he might have reached down and palmed him too as payback−but the other’s hand slips down from where it’s holding Xie Lian’s face to his neck, then his chest. A black painted nail toying with a bud, Xie Lian keening as his hips buck forward.
All the while, Hua Cheng doesn’t let him go. Chasing his lips the moment he breaks the kiss to let out a shuddering breath or gasp; claiming them completely as he’s lost in the heat of the other’s mouth. The insistent claim of him, thumb toying with the bud, rolling it around and the other hand still squeezing and pulling at the flesh of his ass. Xie Lian can’t not help the way his hips rut against the other’s thigh, over and over, chasing that incredible stimulation.
A cry sweeps past his lips, so much and not enough, trying to escape the torturous position between pleasure and barely there, but Hua Cheng won’t let him. His smirk curving against Xie Lian’s lips, as a low groan escapes him when all of Xie Lian’s squirming presses against his own length. “You’re so impatient, gege,” he speaks in between kisses, ignoring his whimpers to stare down at him with mischief and want clear in his eye. “Shouldn’t we take our time, hmm?”
“San Lang please,” he begs, unable to stop the high cry spilling from his lips when the other pinches his nipple, rolling his hips against his thigh, “please, please−faster. We−we’ve taken plenty of time−“
“No we’ve not,” Hua Cheng gently soothes, despite his expression blazing with anything but gentleness. A viciousness lives in that gaze, rearing it’s incredibly attractive head in moments like these, as he watches Xie Lian desperately beg. “Let’s not rush. But gege can make himself feel good, hmm? I’ll just do what I need to.”
Oh goodness. He feels so unbearably frustrated, chest tight with the need for more, as Hua Cheng still toys with him. Once his nipple grows an angry red from all the teasing, Hua Cheng’s hand moves to the other, while his mouth follows downwards, soothing the bud with his tongue and lips, loud, wet and so lewd; Xie Lian can’t help but whimper.
He's so hard. He’s so close. He needs more−rutting into the other’s thigh with each roll of his hips, his pants echoing within the walls of the cottage, the sound of it so obscene and yet turning him on further. He can feel it−grasping the edges of his release, grinding against the other until it became unbearable.
Xie Lian comes with a cry, Hua Cheng’s arms immediately around him to keep him steady in place as he shudders through it, arms loosely looped around the other’s broad shoulders. Xie Lian buries his neck against Hua Cheng’s, warm breaths and pants ghosting against the other’s cool skin as the wetness of his release soaks both his and the other’s clothes.
His face burns; it isn’t the first time, but it always feels a bit embarrassing once the haze clears up a bit. Both of them finding the act too thrilling to abandon it though. Hua Cheng kisses his head, murmuring sweet nothings as he pulls down the rest of his robes, before laying him down on the humble altar at the centre of the room, ready to give his long awaited offerings.
Once they’re both cleaned up and rested, Hua Cheng and him sat outside under the eaves to watch the sunset. Xie Lian rests in the other’s embrace, right against his chest, Hua Cheng’s head leaned atop his, fingers lazily playing with Xie Lian’s hair.
The serene nature of the mountain never fails to put him at peace. Watching the ground be swallowed in brilliant golds and reds just before the light snuffs away to welcome the gorgeous blanket of the stars and the moon…it’s quite an enchanting sight. Hua Cheng hums, a soft tune, the reverberations of his chest travelling against Xie Lian, making his eyes grow lidded.
He's so sated; warm, in the new clothes the other had brought out for the coming autumn season, the memories of the children today, and their lovemaking after a few days of separation.
Xie Lian wonders. Imagines. A child of their own running around as they watched, and the feeling in his chest swells so incredibly sweet.
“Is gege asleep?”
“Not yet,” he says, taking Hua Cheng’s free hand in his, and toying with the rings. The sun gradually sets, and the evening sky grows a beautiful gradient of blues. “San Lang?”
“Yes, my love?”
He snuggles in the other’s embrace, at ease to finally have his other half back to him. As much as he chides the other for wanting to neglect duties at ghost city, he can never placate the longing in his heart the moment Hua Cheng is away. His smile, his voice, his loving touch…everything on his mind until the other finally returns to take him in his arms once more.
“How about we have dinner at Paradise Manor?”
“Gege never needs to ask,” Hua Cheng places a kiss to his cheek, smile soft, “it’s all yours. Of course we can. I’ll tell them to arrange it.” A pause, as he chews the inside of his cheek. “And perhaps, we can discuss the other matter too.”
Of course.
Xie Lian hadn’t wanted to be insistent in asking. Hua Cheng seemed to have trouble coming around with the idea at first, but Xie Lian knew unless he was sure of it, he wouldn’t have ever said yes.
He hopes, time eases Hua Cheng’s worries. The man he’s known him to be…Xie Lian already knows, Hua Cheng will spoil them more than Xie Lian ever will. The moment Hua Cheng says the words, Xie Lian needs to take a second to tamp down his excitement.
Their dinner is nothing too extravagant. In fact, Xie Lian barely pays any attention to it at all, as they converse, somehow the time flying in the blink of an eye. Hua Cheng and him stroll in the vast gardens, sitting at one of the pavilions, watching the butterflies dance across the fields, visiting every flower with utmost care.
Xie Lian sighs, leaning his head against Hua Cheng’s shoulder.
“Gege?”
“Hmm?”
“I haven’t found anything wrong,” Hua Cheng says, taking his hand, but not looking at him. Instead, Xie Lian studies the other’s handsome side profile, for some reason finding him unbearably adorable. “So, whenever gege wishes, we could try.”
“It’ll probably take a while, no?” Xie Lian asks, “since it’s our first time doing something like this.”
Hua Cheng’s smile is soft, as it is small. “With a body like gege’s, I very much doubt it.”
“San Lang,” Xie Lian’s cheeks pink, burying his face against Hua Cheng’s shoulder. “Honestly, it’s San Lang we should be more confident about. With how insatiable you are, if I were a woman we’d long have had little ones running about.”
“It seems gege has really given it some thought, hasn’t he?” Hua Cheng muses, raising a curious brow at him. “If I recall, isn’t it a certain someone who always begs me for—”
“So,” Xie Lian clears his throat before the conversation derails him, smoothing out his robes on his lap, looking anywhere but the other. He can feel Hua Cheng’s gaze, burningly attentive.
Perhaps, Xie Lian thought of it. When Hua Cheng would so devotedly fill him up, the way the energy coursed through him. A thought in the back of his mind, wondering if in some magical way, his body would take.
What it would be like, if it did.
Of course, he voices none of this. If he did, Hua Cheng would never let him forget. And now, anyways, there is a magical way for it too.
“I think, San Lang,” he says, earning a hum, “we could try at the start of winter?”
It would be a time where the heavens were quieter, and in turn Xie Lian’s mind at ease. Hua Cheng thinks it over, finding no problem at all. “By the way, gege, where do you keep them?”
“Oh,” he blinks, “well, they’ve actually gifted them every year on both our birthdays and then our anniversary, so they’re scattered about. Maybe a hundred or two boxes?”
“…”
Hua Cheng turns, an arm around Xie Lian’s shoulders, pulling him closer in an embrace. “Gege,” he says, a little helpless, “and you kept them all? Would you have never told me, if I didn’t ask?”
Xie Lian smiles. “There’s nothing for you to feel bad about. Really, San Lang.”
Hua Cheng still looks a bit upset. Xie Lian leans up, giving him a kiss. Slowly, climbing over his lap, and coaxing his husband for a long, long while.
*
The next week, he ends up getting called to court once more.
There’s a runaway ghost, wreaking havoc. The clues are all scattered about, but eventually, after much discussion, they narrow down the best course of action. With winter approaching, it would be best to staunch such incidents lest it grow to unmanageable scale. Xie Lian offers his own help, but…
There’s this feeling, throughout the meeting.
Xie Lian doesn’t really understand it.
But Mu Qing is already gone, and Feng Xin would be heading out soon after. Perhaps it’s because his friends were preoccupied? But Xie Lian has never cared before. He would merely take a seat near Yizhen, and both of them would zone out together before Ling Wen exasperatedly called back their attention.
But now…
There’s an itch under his skin. Running his heart ablaze with it’s seemingly harmless nature. Twisting and turning, making him keep his guard up, and hopelessly expect something that isn’t happening. Hua Cheng had some sort of meeting with He Xuan, and that would keep him preoccupied. Xie Lian missed his husband on the regular when they were apart, yes, but never like…
This.
Is it because he’d stayed at Paradise Manor for a week? But Xie Lian had stayed away from longer intervals, and never did he feel it as intensely as he did now.
Like a nervousness thrumming against skin, desperately wanting to be in his husband’s arms. Breathing him in, and feeling those strong arms cradle him close, hear his voice, and be surrounded by his scent.
Thank goodness, nothing of the meeting concerns him too heavily. While Xie Lian offered to help, the matter fell in another god’s territory. But Yizhen asks if he’s okay, which is already testament to the fact he’s not holding up. It must show on his face.
As soon as the meeting’s over, Xie Lian does not stick around. He heads to his palace, and oversees the few reports Ling Wen had sent over, something he could go over later.
For now, he only has one place in mind.
It’s no surprise Hua Cheng is still busy.
Yet, when Yin Yu tells him so, he feels his heart sink. Muddied by these sudden feelings, he forces a smile and declines when the other asks if he should tell him, not wanting to disturb his work.
His San Lang…really, he’s too much at times. Willing to drop everything and anything at the drop of a hat if he so much said a word. Despite decades together, and their deeper understanding of one another, it’s one thing that would seemingly remain unchanged.
While it exasperates him to no end, he can’t deny how special and pampered it makes him feel. A secret part of him that enjoys the luxury of his husband’s time, any time he wants it.
Hasn’t he been spoiled? Perhaps this is what’s causing it. Xie Lian had a long case recently of a very elusive curse in a village, and it had taken a bit before he’d finally brought an end to it. They did not have much time to merely just enjoy one another’s company without the worry of work.
Yes, that must be it.
He heads to their bedroom, feet welcomed on the soft fur carpets, and heart at ease in smelling the lingering scent of them everywhere. The faintest wisp of incense long burned out, of flowers and something earthy and deep. Xie Lian opens his hair, undressing and winding down, hoping a good soak in the bath will relieve his anxiety.
The water is always just the right temperature. He sighs, wishing it was Hua Cheng next to him, his embrace keeping him pleasantly sated, his gentle touch running down the length of his body, fingers through his hair. Those lips of his chasing any and all fatigue as they peppered soothing but loving kisses against his shoulders and neck. That beautiful mischievous grin as he teased him when Xie Lian did the same.
He could only close his eyes and lean against the edge. Wishing to card his hands in the other’s dark and long hair. Wishing to run his hands over his toned body. Tracing the tattoo on his inner arm, and feeling the spark of something hot and intense in the centre of his chest, seeing his name against pale skin.
More often than not, a second bath was always due if they did bathe together. He buries his face against his arms, cheeks warming at the tantalizing memories in his head. Heated gasps and soft murmurs of Hua Cheng’s deep voice reverberating against him. The nips of his teeth leaving his skin flushed and marked, deliciously so. The laps of the water against their skins as they moved, the splashes of it as they grew rougher. Xie Lian breathes out a hot and heavy breath, cleaning up and heading out before his mind drifts further.
Xie Lian towels his hair and body. He pulls on one of the crimson thin robes, draping it around himself and entering the room, only to see the man who’d been causing a storm in his heart and mind standing near the dressing table, already having changed. Hua Cheng seems to be removing his rings for the night, dropping them in the wooden box Xie Lian had carved and gifted on a previous birthday, still well-loved.
He can’t help himself. He knows the other is aware Xie Lian’s here too, but he wordlessly drifts closer, hugging him from behind. Xie Lian rests his face in between the other’s shoulder, arms around his waist, leaning his weight against Hua Cheng. Immediately, cool hands place themselves on his own, drawing circles back and forth on his skin. “Gege?” Hua Cheng asks, voice unbearably fond, “did the trash up there exhaust you? You should have let me come along.”
He sputters a laugh, burrowing deeper against him. Xie Lian takes a deep breath in, enjoying the familiar scent of his husband. Flowers, woodsmoke and the tinges of blood. Hua Cheng’s entire presence incited an array of warm colours all around him, cocooning him in safety.
Safety.
That’s right.
Xie Lian, oddly, can’t stop craving this sense of it. His heart settles, knowing he’s safe in the other’s arms.
“San Lang doesn’t need to worry,” he says, and Hua Cheng turns around in his hold, gazing down at him with an eye filled with intimate adoration. Those red lips of his press against Xie Lian’s forehead, making him sigh. Xie Lian’s skin is still pink and ragged in some places from the bath, coloured softer with his sleepy demeanour, and enticingly beautiful in his openness. “I missed you.”
“So did I,” Hua Cheng murmurs, leaning back to take a look at him. It has only been hours. And it’s been decades, but neither of them seem to get enough, of this activity. Hua Cheng brushes the brown strands of his hair back, delighting in the silky slip of them down his palms and fingers. “Yin Yu said you were asking for me.”
“I told him not to disturb you.”
“Yes well. He has instructions to inform me, and he didn’t,” Xie Lian rolls his eyes, earning a faux frown from his husband. “How dare I spare time to someone else when my beloved is waiting for me?”
“San Lang, you…” He shakes his head, instead gazing down at him. Hands smoothing up and down the folds of his sleeping robes against his chest, feeling the coolness of it emit through the cloth. He meets the other’s gaze, before pushing himself up on his toes, Hua Cheng’s lips curling into a smile as he indulges him, leaning down to capture them in a kiss.
Xie Lian feels something akin to a dam burst in his chest. A barrage of water filling up dried and flaking land anew. He curls a hand around the other’s nape, Hua Cheng’s touch sliding against his sides languidly−the pace of it slow and sensual, deep and intimate. Turning deeper, the warmth of the other’s mouth, his skillful advances, his lovely tricks. Xie Lian’s heart flutters, pattering against his chest, something warm pooling low in his gut.
God.
It’s only been two days. But Xie Lian is already craving him again. When Hua Cheng pulls back, he can’t help but chase his lips, earning a chuckle from his husband. Xie Lian flusters, wondering what exactly’s gotten into him. Meeting the other’s eye, a little embarrassed.
A glassy and delicate sheen overtakes them, eyes half-lidded, seemingly akin to liquid gold in the light of the candles. Xie Lian’s petal lips have been bitten and teased until they’re spit-slicked and swollen, Hua Cheng’s not faring better.
But the mere sight of him so affected, has Hua Cheng’s gaze darkening, Enchanting and wildly gorgeous, as they ravenously take him in. “Gege,” he whispers, voice low and a little dragged out. His large palms spanning around the curve of his waist, the dip of his spine, and smoothening against the sides of his hips. Xie Lian’s body welcomes it so eagerly; warming up, the sensations already making his heart race.
It does not go unnoticed by Hua Cheng, of course. He brushes his nose against Xie Lian’s, before a hand comes up and pulls open the knot in front of his robe, only the slightest bit, so he could push down the fabric off his shoulder. “Gege really missed this one, didn’t he?”
“I just…” but he did. “I really did, San Lang.”
“Mhm, I can tell how much all of gege wanted to come back to this San Lang,” he grazes his nose down his neck, breathing him in, and pressing his lips against skin. Xie Lian sighs, a pleasurable shudder down his spine, arching against him as his other hand slips inside his robe, nails dragging down the softness of his belly. “Gege, if I knew…I wouldn’t have spared a single moment more with that swampy trash.”
“San Lang,” he chides with a laugh.
“My beloved,” he murmurs, kissing up the column of his neck, softly against his jaw. Xie Lian shivers, Hua Cheng’s fingers digging into his hips. “Gege…”
“Mhm,” he moans, the moment Hua Cheng shifts his leg between his, pressing up against a certain part of him. “The…the bed…”
“Of course,” he whispers, leaning down to pick him up, before laying him down on the bed, the red drapes casting an aura of intimacy between them. Hua Cheng takes his time undressing him−pressing kisses to every inch of skin, until Xie Lian’s tugging him forward, practically ripping off the other’s clothes much to the other’s amusement and laughs, before their lips meet one another again, a moan shared between them as their bodies touch.
Hua Cheng draws him in his lap, hoisting him up with an arm around his waist as his other hand preps him. Long and thick fingers slick and wet slowly entering him, the stretch maddening before he started fucking those digits into him with great diligence. Xie Lian’s fingers dig into Hua Cheng’s shoulders, broken gasps and calls of the other’s name spilling against his lips.
He wants him so much. A carnal desire that seems boundless, as if none of it is enough. Xie Lian overlooks the strength of his feelings despite it only being a short while of separation; it isn’t anything new to miss Hua Cheng, so what if he was feeling it more? But he feels extra sensitive, today. Every touch and graze of the other capable of rendering him senseless, Hua Cheng clearly noticing and taking full advantage of it.
Once he’s ready, Xie Lian flips on to his hands and knees, body pressed by the other until his hips are raised high and face pressed against the bedding. It’s one of his favourite positions−it seemed as if Hua Cheng entered the deepest part of him, spearing him on his cock over and over before he filled him up. Murmuring those lewd words against his ear, and making his debauched fantasies known and heard. Xie Lian can only curl his hands into the sheets, crying out at the other’s rigorous workings of him.
Their lovemaking tends to last a couple of rounds at usual. Xie Lian would be begging for reprieve at the third, and Hua Cheng would finally give in by the fifth, succumbing to his desperate calls of ‘San Lang gege, mercy.’
And yet, despite the soreness of his body, he doesn’t want to stop.
“Gege’s more enthusiastic today,” Hua Cheng pants against his neck, a thin sheen of sweat beading against both their bodies. He’s pressed on his back, feeling the other slowly soften inside of him, and the warmth of the other’s spill and spiritual energy buzzing him head to toe. Feeling the other’s spent trickle down, he feels a sense of loss, unable to place why.
“San Lang,” he murmurs, and the other hums, staring down at him, propping himself up with hands either side of him. Xie Lian’s voice has gone hoarse, face flushed and eyes glossed over with the sheen of desire and tears. The moment the other pulls out, there’s a panic within him, similar to the one in the heavenly court.
“Yes, my love?” Hua Cheng asks, attentive as always. Xie Lian reachs up, trailing his fingers over the other’s features−his brows, his scarred eye, the high bridge of his nose, the curve of his lips. Tender affection spilling in his gaze, something delicate in the space between them, as they merely took the other in.
“I love you,” he whispers, and the other smiled, a relief and awe in his expression even now.
“I love you too, gege,” he whispers, vulnerability in his voice. Xie Lian pushes him back, and the other follows easily, leaned back against the cushions, as he watches Xie Lian straddle his lap. There is clear surprise on his face, as his hands come to hold him place to support him. “Gege?”
“Just sit back,” he says, kissing him, “be good for gege.”
A full body shiver goes through the other at the words, complying, mum as he watches with a half-lidded gaze. Xie Lian kisses all the places his fingers traced. He isn’t as eloquent at Hua Cheng at expressing his affections, but he always tries to show it in other ways. An acceptance and unbearable amount of love in every gesture, until Hua Cheng’s arms wound around him, form growing lax.
Xie Lian mouths against the other’s neck, leaving his own marks and bites. Grazing his hands, gentle and soft, all over the other’s body, before Hua Cheng’s lips start to spill a few harsh intakes of breaths and gasps, body stirring beneath him. “Gege, you should−“
“Let me,” he says, reaching behind and not even flinching as he presses the other’s cock inside, sinking down until he’s snug, both of them groaning at the feeling. Xie Lian’s eyes flutter shut, feeling him grow harder and fuller inside of him. Then, he starts rocking his lips, slow then fast, the sound of their skin slapping echoing in the quietness, the only sound beside their harsh pants.
This particular climax, feels unbearably overwhelming. He can’t help the way he tears up, Hua Cheng gathering him in his arms, holding him close. Like this, he’s surrounded completely and utterly by his husband; the man he trusts most, loves most, and cherishes most. Like this, Xie Lian is safe.
Nothing can hurt him. Nothing can touch him. “Just a bit more,” he murmurs, when the other makes to move and pull out. Hua Cheng smiles against his skin, not teasing for now, but clearly intending to later as he complies.
Strangely enough, Xie Lian’s...wants, seem to have doubled in their frequency.
After attending to his duties and dropping by Puqi Village, him and Hua Cheng share some time in the library of Paradise Manor, a friendly spar, light dinner and an entire night of lovemaking again. The pattern remains the same for the upcoming days; both of them attending their work, the night sealed away to coupling until they were completely spent.
Not to mention, any time they did spend together outside that, Xie Lian’s anxiety seemed to creep back up. It’s almost as if he’s transported to the time when Hua Cheng had first come back, and he didn’t want to let the other out his sights for even a moment, lest it all be an illusion.
He knows of course; Hua Cheng will never oppose to his clinginess. Instead, he welcomes Xie Lian in his arms, and maneuvers him close in his embrace, sitting in his lap as he goes through the scrolls at his desk, Xie Lian often falling asleep, before he’d wake him for dinner. There’s the constant need of a touch, of a reassurance, and the times he needs to be away, he’s itching to be back.
“Gege,” Hua Cheng eventually shakes him awake, “beloved, are you not feeling well?”
“Hmm?”
“It’s just…” Hua Cheng cards his hair back, Xie Lian nuzzling against his palm, “those two…noticed. And it’s something I’ve been picking on as well. Is something troubling you?”
Those two…? Troubling…? “What, San Lang?”
He slowly pulls himself out of his sleepy state, staring at the other. Hua Cheng’s gaze is fond, but there is a hint of concern in them. Xie Lian faces him properly, the other steadying him with his hands on his waist. “They said you look really stressed during meetings. Like you’re in a rush for something. Even Yizhen’s mentioned it to Yin Yu. Is there something bothering you?”
He took his hands in his own, fingers interlocking, “this husband would more than like to ease my lover’s burdens.”
“Oh,” Xie Lian feels his cheeks grow pink, embarrassed. “I−well. Umm.”
“Hmm? So, there is something,” Hua Cheng raises a brow, and he flushes even deeper. “What is it, gege?”
“It’s well…” he takes a deep breath in, “the past two weeks, whenever I’m away from you, I start getting…anxious?” Taking in his expression, he rushes to explain, “not in a bad way! But more so−I crave San Lang’s presence. Of course, I always did before, but it’s a lot more intense?”
Hua Cheng studies him. “Have I done something recently to trigger it?”
That is the odd thing. Xie Lian slips one hand down the other’s neck, between the folds of his robe, right over his chest. Feeling the strong muscle, and underneath a heart that did not beat. It’s cold, solid, and his. “No,” he admits, honest, “I don’t know why it’s happening.”
“Is that perhaps also the reason for gege’s insatiable desires?”
“San Lang!” He groans, making Hua Cheng laugh, “yes? No? I…I want to be with you all the time. It is only near you that I stop feeling so anxious.”
“Hmm,” Hua Cheng runs a hand down his back, “while I’m more than happy to indulge gege, I don’t like the root of it. Gege should want things just because he wants them–not because you’re anxious or worried of something else.”
He knows. But he also doesn’t know why this had sprung up in the first place. “I’m sorry.”
“Oh, gege,” Hua Cheng smiles, placing a kiss against his forehead. All his nerves loosen at once, melting. “Nothing of that sort. So, tell me more, gege. What is it? You feel like I might…” Hua Cheng very carefully selected his words, “be gone if you don’t rush back?”
He thinks it over. Was it an anxiousness of losing Hua Cheng? He didn’t think so. Hua Cheng patiently waits, threading his fingers through his hair like he was playing with strands of silk. “No rather…” he meets the other’s gaze, “it’s a sense of safety.”
That has Hua Cheng’s eye widening, a glint of something dark flashing. “Safety? Does gege feel unsafe in the Heavenly Court?”
He can see the way this situation would turn disastrous very fast and quickly assures his husband. “No, no, not like I’m in danger. Rather just, I feel this sense of being taken care of, or well…” it embarrasses him considerably as he forces the words out, “protected. Not by any particular thing. I just know that you would, and I want to remain near you.”
Hua Cheng ponders over this. But despite his attempts at concealing his smile, his gaze betrays how happy he feels at the declaration that Xie Lian wished to be protected by him. This man…He can’t help but grow fond at his antics.
“Then remain near me,” Hua Cheng merely says, taking his hands. He soothingly grazes his thumbs over Xie Lian’s knuckles, leaning comfortably back as he gazes up at him. With his hair undone, dressed down in mere inner robes and his eye patch gone, Hua Cheng always paints such an achingly intimate picture of domesticity. “I can attend the meetings with you.”
“No, there’s no need.” He already knows how that would end. “Anyways, I have a bit of a break for a while. We can just be like this.”
Hua Cheng doesn’t look satisfied with that, but he didn’t fight him on it. Merely tucks him close, a silent comfort without the need for any more words.
*
Hua Cheng paces the foyer.
After debating with himself for a long while, he can’t help it. He turns to Yin Yu, who’s been standing to the side for half an hour now. “Are you sure he’s reliable?”
“Every diagnosis and treatment he’s done so far has seen positive results,” Yin Yu says, “I can search for a mortal instead, if Chengzhu desires. But those with the ability to see beyond the merely mortal realm might take longer to find.”
Hua Cheng contemplates this. He’s never needed any sort of physician to come and check up on Xie Lian. Hua Cheng had read up so much himself; most ails that fell on Xie Lian were either injuries or a very rare cold. In the case of curses, Hua Cheng would find the antidote as soon as possible.
This? He doesn’t understand what to do with these symptoms. Independently, they could all be fixed. What did it mean to get them together? Or is Hua Cheng overthinking?
He just…doesn’t want any hiccups, now that they’ve decided to give this a try. Recalling Xie Lian’s smile, the brightness in his eyes, the shy admittance…Hua Cheng can’t ever let an issue so easily solvable ruin their inevitable.
He doesn’t want to invite a medical heavenly official; none of those bigmouths know how to keep their mouths shut. Mu Qing, while knowledgeable about medicine, had a scope similar to Hua Cheng.
A mortal doctor would not be much help unless he was a member of the Jianghu, and that too talented beyond measure. In the end, Hua Cheng sighs. “Bring him in.”
Xie Lian’s fast asleep, by the time he comes to their share bedroom.
Hua Cheng had told him he’d be bringing someone to check on him—met with many protests and assurance he was truly fine—until he finally gave in, seeing how worried Hua Cheng seemed to be.
That conversation had only happened a short while ago. Yet, Xie Lian’s out like a light, resting atop the bed, snuggled against the pillow that Hua Cheng usually uses. Hua Cheng’s gaze softens immediately, waving a hand and letting the sheer crimson drapes fall forward, shrouding him in a haze to other’s eyes.
Hua Cheng fixes Xie Lian’s robe—having opened up—before shifting him on the bed. His husband senses the movement, eyes opening and meeting his, misty with sleep. It’s a lovely sight; the slow realization, the way they widen. “San Lang,” he says, hurried, “I’m so sorry—”
“It’s okay,” Hua Cheng cuts, leaning forward to peck his lips, “just lay down. I’ll have him sit next to the curtains.”
“I’m not a maiden, San Lang,” Xie Lian’s expression grows helplessly amused. “It’s fine if he sees me.”
Entering the room, the duck spirit bows once, feathers of his outer robe rustling softly as he approaches the bed. He keeps his movements measured, eyes politely lowered.
“Forgive the intrusion,” he says mildly. “I’ll be brief.”
Xie Lian offers him a sleepy smile. “I truly feel fine. I’ve just been…a little tired.”
The spirit nods, as though that confirms something rather than dismisses it. Xie Lian extends a hand behind the drapes, and the spirit reaches out, two fingers resting lightly against Xie Lian’s wrist.
Time stretches.
Hua Cheng notices the exact moment the spirit stills.
“Anything?” Hua Cheng asks quietly.
The spirit hums under his breath, more to himself than in response. He adjusts his grip, checks again—slower this time. His brows knit, then smooth.
“Your husband’s spiritual circulation is very steady,” he says at last. “Exceptionally so.”
Xie Lian chuckles softly. “That’s good, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” the spirit answers after a beat. “Very good.”
He withdraws his hand and steps back. “There is no sign of illness. No curse. No imbalance.”
Hua Cheng doesn’t relax. “And the fatigue?” he prompts.
“Not uncommon,” the spirit says carefully. “Especially when one’s energy is…being redirected.”
Xie Lian tilts his head, confused. “Redirected?”
The spirit inclines his head. “Nothing to concern yourself with. Rest will suffice.”
Xie Lian stares. “Is there an issue?” He worries, and Hua Cheng can tell the exact moment the worst of thoughts come to Xie Lian’s mind. “Is…everything is fine, right?”
I’ve not been denied the chance even before trying, have I?
Hua Cheng meets the spirit’s gaze then—sharp, unblinking.
The spirit hesitates. Then he bows deeper. “Everything is perfect. If Chengzhu would permit,” he says, “there are a few details I would like to discuss privately; merely how to alleviate the fatigue. There is no care better than a loved one’s.”
That, seems to finally relax Xie Lian. Hua Cheng smiles, even as his own anxiety skyrockets, the duck spirit stepping out the room to give them privacy. He steps closer, brushing back Xie Lian’s hair, a few quiet words exchanged, before stepping out.
The spirit and him step into the side hall. Arms crossed, and aura not short threatening, he prompts the other to speak. Sweating profusely, the spirit starts off carefully.
“Chengzhu,” he says, “before I say anything further…may I ask whether your husband has ingested anything unusual recently? A tonic, a medicinal pill, a spiritual supplement?”
Hua Cheng’s brow furrows. “Not to my knowledge.” Then, after a beat, “He would have told me.”
Though now the seed’s planted in his mind. There have been many times, Xie Lian has done things unknowingly, unaware of what harm they could have posed to him. From getting poisoned to getting trapped…unfortunately, it’s not completely out the question for him to have eaten something accidentally.
“Is it important?”
The duck spirit nods. “Very,” he quacks, growing embarrassed as he recovers his human voice once more, “otherwise, we are missing a piece.”
Hua Cheng does not like the sound of that at all. He thinks it over for only a second, before heading back to Xie Lian’s side.
His husband is still awake, but he clearly looks very sleepy. Ruoye and a butterfly chase each other around, amusing him, as his lids droop. Hearing Hua Cheng, Xie Lian perks up, turning to look at him. “What is it, San Lang?” he asks, just as Hua Cheng sits next to him on the bed. Xie Lian, as though drawn to him by a physical force, leans against his shoulder.
“Gege,” he says softly, smoothing his hair back. “May I ask you something?”
“Have you eaten anything…medicinal, recently? A tonic, perhaps?”
Xie Lian blinks. Thinks.
“Oh.”
Hua Cheng stills.
“Yes,” Xie Lian says, frowning faintly. “I thought it would be fine.” He sits up, and Ruoye shoots out to pull at a drawer in the corner of the room. Hua Cheng stands up, bringing it over. Xie Lian’s fingers fidget, nervous. “Is this why I’ve been feeling this way?”
Hua Cheng carefully reads the instructions inside; a scroll faded at the edges, the script in Xie Lian’s writing from when he’d have first asked. Xie Lian watches him, utterly quiet.
It’s simple; three pills in a box. One for preparing the body, the other two for actual conceiving.
“It said it takes time,” Xie Lian adds, a little sheepish. “I didn’t think it would affect much. After all, it’s not like there’s umm. Much time left. The newer ones are golden; these ones are blue.”
Hua Cheng feels something inside of him, very slowly, unfurl. Devastate him. For how carefully considerate he was being, hiding his research, thinking over it day and night…Xie Lian seemed to be the same. Hua Cheng should have noticed sooner. He merely leans over, kissing Xie Lian’s hair. “Rest, gege,” he says, soft, “I’ll be back in a bit.”
“En,” Xie Lian nods, relaxing when he sees Hua Cheng’s reaction.
He brings it back out, setting it on the table. He tells him what Xie Lian had mentioned of the colours, not thinking them to be very important.
The duck spirit leans in at once, adjusting his sleeves before carefully lifting the box. He studies it in silence—too long a silence. His brows knit as he removes the folded instructions, eyes scanning once, then twice.
“…Ah.”
The sound is quiet. Almost reverent.
Hua Cheng’s fingers curl against the table. “What?”
The spirit clears his throat. “This description,” he says slowly, “matches an older formulation.”
Hua Cheng’s gaze sharpens. “Older.”
“Yes,” the spirit replies. “Several decades, at least.” He hesitates, then continues, choosing his words with care. “The pills currently circulated in Ghost City—the golden ones, as his highness says—are no longer taken in stages.”
He taps the box lightly.
“One pill now fulfills all purposes.”
Silence crashes down. Hua Cheng closes his eye.
Everything aligns—Xie Lian’s fatigue, the redirected energy, the steady circulation, the timing. Not illness. Not imbalance.
Life.
“…So,” Hua Cheng says at last, voice steady through sheer will, “one would have been enough.”
“Yes,” the spirit answers. “And your husband has already taken it.”
Hua Cheng exhales slowly. The breath feels like it’s been trapped in his chest for days.
“Is he safe?”
The duck spirit looks almost offended by the question, letting out a quack. “More than safe! His body accepted the change immediately! Chengzhu, you should be proud! That level of compatibility is rare.”
Another pause.
“He doesn’t know,” Hua Cheng says.
“No,” the spirit agrees, all enthusiasm deflating. “And it would be best if he heard it from you—but seeing his highness’s condition, anything too abrupt would not be good.”
Hua Cheng nods once.
“This remains between us,” Hua Cheng says, voice cold. “Until I decide otherwise.”
The spirit bows deeply. “Of course, Chengzhu.”
Hua Cheng turns back toward the bedroom door, resting his palm against the wood for a brief moment before straightening.
Inside, Xie Lian waits—sleepy, trusting, utterly unaware that the world has already shifted to make space for him.
Hua Cheng allows himself one quiet thought before returning to his side.
So, this is how fate treats you, he thinks fondly. With a kindness you never see coming.