Work Text:
The days passed. So did the weeks. Mu Qing had slipped further and further into his own workaholic spiral, more work, more missions. The more he worked, the less he thought.
He let himself go completely alone with Feng Xin and Xie Lian, in the privacy of their bedroom, excluded from the world around them. He tried not to think about anything but their naked bodies, their skins touching each other, their moans, their voices, their whispered " I love you " as if they feared being heard.
But otherwise, Mu Qing tried not to think about his own past from when he was mortal. He tried not to think about Hua Cheng, who had reached out to him and saved him from a very unpleasant situation; he tried not to think about his voice, how much he missed it.
He wasn't sure he could do it, completely excluding him from his own life, but certain was that Hua Cheng always managed to catch him unprepared.
'Why is that piece of shit so obsessed with you? Don't even bother making shit up, I've done my research. You know, I'm almost disappointed, I thought I was the person you hated the longest of all. '
Mu Qing winced as he suddenly heard Hua Cheng's voice in his head. He looked at his report and fingers, smeared with ink. He took a deep breath to calm himself, telling himself it was too early to let himself be irritated; the sun had not yet risen. But of course, Hua Cheng excelled in the art of ruining his day.
'Why do you persist over things that don't concern you? " he exclaimed in his own head, grabbing a handkerchief to wipe his dirty hands ' I thought I was clear when I said you should forget what happened. '
The other spat out a sarcastic line.
'Don't tell me you really thought I didn't investigate, by the gods Mu Qing, how naive can you be? '
Mu Qing felt his face redden at hearing the tone of derision in his voice and clicked his tongue, irritated.
'You are such an asshole! If this is what I must hear, you might as well leave me for dead the next time. '
Hua Cheng remained silent for an awfully long moment, so long that Mu Qing was about to sever their mental channel, when the ghost resumed speaking.
'Mu Qing, anything could have happened to you, and I am seriously convinced that you could have said at least to me... '
' To you? ' blurted out the general interrupting 'There was not once that you were interested in me or my entire existence except to vomit at me how horrible I was! Did you really think I could confide in you? To be vulnerable? I am impatient, not suicidal! You would have used every single word against me at the first discussion and you know it perfectly well, don't try to make me out to be what I am not now! '
Again, Hua Cheng remained silent, and Mu Qing sighed heavily.
'Listen, just ignore me, and pretend I don't exist, okay? It's not healthy... '
' I know I've screwed up a lot of stuff in our relationship, ' Hua Cheng suddenly spoke over him ' I know that very well. I'm just ... worried. About your health. And safety. '
Mu Qing grimaced, not knowing what to say, displaced by the other's bitter tone and decided to take a deep breath, trying to calm down.
'There is nothing to worry about. I have the situation under control again. '
'Hiding your head in the sand is not one of the best strategies Mu Qing. '
'That is for me to decide if you allow it. Now, I seriously must get back to work. '
'You exaggerate as usual; dawn is breaking now. You've been working all night again. ''
Hua Cheng's tone was strangely calm, and Mu Qing did not know what to think because usually Hua Cheng would spit out a sour joke about him preferring to work rather than be together and Mu Qing did not know exactly how he should react.
'I'm going to have breakfast soon. Don't worry,' he found himself telling him.
'Hmm. That's a good compromise. Good work and have a nice day, then. '
'You too. '
Mu Qing was the first to interrupt the conversation and stood still staring at the ink stains on his hands with a vacant stare. Then he sighed and went to wash himself.
*
'Don't you know it's rude not to say thank you for a gift received? '
"Fuck you”, growled Mu Qing irritably as he looked at the needle-pierced finger he held in his other hand.
'Can't you contact me like a normal person? ’ he asked with a sigh.
'Why should I? It's fun to be able to catch you off guard. But tell me, isn't it fantastic what I got you?'
The general looked at the table in front of him, a chaos of scissors, cloth, needles, threads. Then he looked at the large piece of cloth on his legs that he was sewing into a cloak, and then focused on the original instructions for sewing a typical Xianle cloak, usually used during feast days and banquets. He had found them on his desk two days earlier, along with a brief note from Hua Cheng. He must have worked hard enough, because Mu Qing had managed to decipher much of the message. He had hidden it in a drawer, under a pile of papers he hardly ever looked at.
'... it was a nice thought, ' Mu Qing replied, pondering the words 'How did you get it? '
'Three days ago, at the Gambler's Den. Rather, Feng Xin told me that you even have a couple of hours of freedom today. I'm sure you're practically done already! '
Hua Cheng's tone was quite amused, but always as if he were trying hard to show a cheerfulness that he did not feel. Mu Qing, who had not only already cut the fabric but was already sewing the various pieces together, blushed even more violently.
' Of course not !
Hua Cheng laughed again, knowing instead that he must be well on his way. Mu Qing noticed that even his laughter was not as he remembered it, always as if it were forced, and sighed heavily.
'Hua Cheng, why are you doing this, we are no longer together. '
'So what? Who forbids me to contact you or if I want to give you something if I think you might like it? '
' ...no one ,' replied the general with a heavy voice ' It seems to me that you simply want to stick to something that is familiar to you, even if we already know is not working .'
' I don't want to get back together if is that that you are implying ,' replied the ghost catching him a little off guard 'I know we don't work, but why do we have to give up everything else? '
' Hua Cheng, I don't have the energy to see you and pretend I'm not that kind of person. '
'Then let's just talk. When we feel like it. If we feel like it. Without pressure, without stress .'
'Just like that? ’ asked the deity with a clear note of sceptic in his voice ‘ You really think that not seeing each other will stop us fighting? Hua Cheng, now you are the naïve one. ’
‘ Don’t try so hard to have one regardless, then’, spatted the ghost ‘We are already fucking nothing, do you really think we can worsen our situation? ’
Mu Qing sighed and rolled his eyes.
‘ No. I don’t think that. ’
‘ Then stop bullshitting around and give us a fucking chance to be normal persons. We are nothing and we will remain nothing, don’t worry. We don’t work together; we already know that. ’
Nothing .
Mu Qing pondered those words for a moment and told himself that he had made several bad decisions in his own life, but that one was really bad, and he would surely regret it. But Hua Cheng sounded serious and something inside his head told him to trust the ghost, trust his instinct for once instead to fight them.
'All right ,' he said after a minute of silence, 'On probation though. '
Hua Cheng snorted half a laugh.
'On probation, then ,' he agreed 'Then I'll start right away. I have quite a lot to tell you about myself and what has happened in the last few months! '
Mu Qing rolled his eyes, arranging the fabric on his legs again, resuming sewing. Hua Cheng began to prattle on about this or that ghost, about this or that business he had concluded, about this or that scroll or book, sword, or relic he had obtained. Mu Qing had commented here and there, without getting too unbalanced, without settling down too much, without letting himself go too much.
It was all like the good days with Hua Cheng, the ones where it seemed like they had a chance, the ones without quarrels, the ones without rolling eyes and hurtful comments, the ones where they seemed really engaged. Mu Qing felt a knot of unease suddenly tighten in his stomach.
He couldn't really be that stupid.
'... Qing? Mu Qing? Are you all right? '
'Hmm ?
' Is everything all right?’
No, not all right, he would have liked to tell him. I find myself exactly as I was two years ago, trapped in a web from which I can't break free, I feel suffocated because I want you as I did before but I know it's impossible and this little theater is just a stupid palliative that won't lead to anything good but I'm so fucking weak because I like you.
'...yes, all right ,' replied the general a moment later ' Shi Xu brought me a letter. But at least I had more free time for planned, ' he lied then and Mu Qing didn't like lying, but he didn't see another way out.
'That sounds important. Then I'll leave you to your work .'
Mu Qing stood puzzled for another moment, the fingers of one hand lying on the fabric, two of the other tight on the needle. Usually, Hua Cheng would have pulled off one of his usual childish tantrums trying to make him feel guilty because he was always busy working, slipping into a spiral of impatience and then anger. At worst they would have quarreled. At best Hua Cheng would have cut off the conversation without saying anything.
But now Hua Cheng seemed quite calm. There was always a little disappointment in his voice, but nothing more.
'You're not angry?’
'It doesn't matter whether I'm angry or not, we still had more time than expected .’
Hua Cheng remained silent for a moment before speaking again.
' It was good to talk to you like that again. I had missed it.’
Mu Qing blinked a couple of times. He did not know what to reply. There was something about Hua Cheng's sincerity that he could not handle and that confused him.
' ...It's not all a joke to get me into a bed again, is it? ’ he found himself asking.
'No, it isn't. I don't even want to see you to be honest.'
'Okay. So...have a nice day ,' he replied with still some confusion in his voice, not finding the courage to tell him that he had missed him too 'And thank you for your gift.'
' No problem. See you later Mu Qing. '
Mu Qing found himself alone in the mental canal and stood still before going back to sewing. It had all been a bad idea. Hua Cheng would lose interest sooner rather than later and the consequences would leave him devastated again and he could not, could not get it together again.
He simply had to stop giving in. He just had to have more of a firm pulse and stop being fooled like that. Next time he would tell Hua Cheng that they were not together. That they would not talk or see each other or anything else. He would stick to his own plan and react detachedly, firmly, and decisively.
Exactly.
*
Hua Cheng again contacted him the next time. It had been two weeks since he had found his gift on his desk, and after that it had been simply silence.
Mu Qing had opened his mouth, ready to tell him that it was really over between them, but the other had been quicker and started blurting out that Xie Lian's birthday was in two days, talking about what he had arranged, bought, thought of for his beloved husband.
Hua Cheng seemed happy even as he was talking to him, and Mu Qing swallowed his own fears because he did not want to be the cause of some quarrel again. Hua Cheng had eventually kept him company for the rest of the afternoon while he was busy being bored at Gambler's Den and Mu Qing swamped with paperwork because Feng Xin was in the land of mortals, so forced to take care of his residence as well.
The next time Hua Cheng had contacted him was after four months of silence, a week after his birthday. Mu Qing had found a package on his desk with such fine and luxurious cloth inside that the general himself had felt uncomfortable picking it up, two earrings of the same midnight blue color as the cloth, and a portrait of Mu Qing and Xie Lian training together at the cultivation site.
Mu Qing had been silent for a moment. The phrase 'Let's stop this please, it hurts more than it should ' was already on the tip of his tongue, but eventually thanked him without adding something else and Hua Cheng's amused half laugh had made him smile for a moment.
Mu Qing had hidden everything in a wooden box in a secret compartment of his own closet. He had put the earrings, the fabric, the pattern, all folded carefully next to the sewing instructions and the note that had accompanied them.
And Mu Qing really wished he had been firmer in his own decision, more confident. He did not want to continue talking to Hua Cheng because what they had was no longer obtainable, and the uncertainty of that future made up of stolen conversations in scraps of time, secret from everyone, even husbands unaware of their new stupid useless relationship, was beginning to be a burden that the general was not sure he wanted to continue to bear.
Mu Qing told himself that then the next time he would talk to him, he would break it off, but he couldn't. Neither the next one nor the one after that nor the one after that. He didn't want to do that because he was enjoying that relationship that he and Hua Cheng were building and it made him feel good in the way that they used to have good days together, without the stress of being in a relationship, without the pressure of expectations, without the constant being on guard because you never know what might happen.
They were not together; they were nothing and Mu Qing approached Hua Cheng with exactly that thought in mind. They were nothing and therefore neither of them expected anything, neither of them could be disappointed, neither of them would be irritated, and neither of them would look for any kind of pretext to seek an argument.
It was easy lately to talk to him, to confide things that once neither of them would have dared to say to each other aloud.
' ...but tell me ,' Hua Cheng resumed, ' His Highness is still sleeping, what did you do to him last night Mu Qing? '
Mu Qing, intent on arranging his own study because he had been busy day and night for the past few weeks, rolled his eyes. Hua Cheng's tone was so full of mischief that not to perceive his grin would have been impossible.
'His Highness seemed particularly ecstatic when he came home this morning. '
' It was very nice, we had a great time ,' Mu Qing replied with a smile ' I swear, Xie Lian has never laughed so much with me, and it was a really good night for our relationship and...'
Mu Qing stopped talking for a moment, sighing. He did not feel comfortable telling Hua Cheng how happy he was with another man, although the man in question was his husband. He waited for something from Hua Cheng, but nothing came.
' I mean, Xie Lian never gave up hope on us, he was still acting strange. But lately he's been doing better and I'm glad I had a chance to have such a good day with him. I'm sorry, ' he found himself saying to him at the end.
' ...What are you apologizing for ?" replied Hua Cheng ' I'm obviously happy if His Highness is happy and I'm glad to know that you are too. And I know my limits very well, even if I wanted to I know that you don't want to get back together with me. '
' Said like that is unfair. I'm not the only one who doesn't want to get back together, we decided it together .'
The ghost did not answer and remained silent for a moment.
' Because there is no other solution .'
' Which is the same thing. Let's stay on our nothing Hua Cheng. We should not try to have more than what we are allowed. '
' You sound like His Highness .'
' Which for once is absolutely right. I don't want to ruin what we have now, and I don't want to be forced to throw it all away again on a whim that we both know will lead to no good. '
' You don't know that .'
Mu Qing did not answer that he knew instead because that was what the two of them were destined for. They were not able to be together as they would have liked. But he did not say that. He diverted the conversation to another topic, less thorny, less likely to spark an argument. Incredibly, Hua Cheng did not press any further and shortly thereafter cut the conversation short.
The next time neither of them returned to the topic, and the months continued to pass until it became more than two years of secret mental encounters.
And that night Mu Qing suddenly woke up, feeling uncomfortable without knowing exactly why. He turned on his side and could not avoid a grimace of disappointment at seeing that he was alone in bed, Feng Xin reconnoitering the ground of mortals and decided to contact Hua Cheng. In recent years he had never been the first to contact him, the ghost was the one who always made the first step toward him, and Mu Qing could not exactly define how he felt. He was quite calm as he uttered the horrible password to contact him and felt a faint flame of happiness at hearing the surprise in Hua Cheng's voice.
'Mu Qing? What's going on? Are you in danger? Are you injured? '
'Hmm? 'No. Why? '
' I don't know. It's the first time you've contacted me. Are you sure everything is all right?'
Mu Qing, already standing by the window looking out over the empty streets of the Divine City, nodded distractedly.
'Everything is okay. I woke up with the absurd feeling that something horrible is about to happen. I don't know, ' he then admitted with a sigh, 'I'm probably just getting paranoid.'
'Your instincts are usually right. '
' You mean catastrophic and pessimistic ? '
'Rare qualities, ' Hua Cheng teased him with what could have been a sneer 'And then...'
"General!" exclaimed Shi Xu, his attendant, suddenly entering his room, bloodstained, his robes torn "Your husband ... in the land of mortals ... is at war. Come down immediately."
*
Mu Qing could not say exactly what had happened up to that moment. He and Feng Xin had been fighting for some time against a group of demons commanded by Qi Rong, and the moment he had set foot in the land of mortals chaos had erupted around them. Mu Qing remembered the war against Yong'an. He remembered the intense smell of blood in his nostrils, remembered the corpses on the ground slaughtered by enemy weapons, remembered the heavy despair that became more unbearable, day after day.
Mu Qing remembered the deafening noise of swords around him, the hiss of arrows being shot from all sides. He remembered the clang of armor as they clashed against each other. He distinctly remembered the thud with which corpses fell around him.
And it was with a certain thrill that after a drawn-out battle, Mu Qing heard the same hiss of arrows, heard the same rustle of a blade penetrating flesh. He heard the same thud close, all too close, absurdly close.
Mu Qing slowly turned his gaze to the ground behind him, where Feng Xin should have been stand, beautiful and terrible as he fought. He should have seen Feng Xin and his stupid, brazen smile as they kept count of how many demons or ghosts they had felled. He should have seen him bloodstained, wounded, but standing and willing to fight again and again because Feng Xin was a soldier, he was a general, and he would not take a step back even if forced.
Instead, he saw him on the ground, his chest pierced by a series of arrows, his belly where a short-bladed sword lay, skewered to the hilt. He saw him coughing up blood, gasping, and attempting to look on in amazement at the state of his body, blood oozing from every wound in spurts.
Mu Qing felt his head go blank, unable to move so deep was the shock. His hands shook, his saber slid to the ground with a metallic thud. The general threw himself next to his husband, trying to breathe, trying to analyze the situation. He pushed his hands around the blade, trying to apply pressure to contain the blood loss, to no avail. His eyes darted from place to place, trying to think of ways to help him but when he saw an arrowhead sticking in his throat, Mu Qing found himself fallen even deeper in his state of shock.
"Mu...Qing," exhaled Feng Xin suddenly grabbing him by the wrists, "Let...it be. You can't..."
"Don't talk," muttered Mu Qing uncertain that he had managed to utter anything, his fingers trembling, Feng Xin's grip strong, extraordinarily strong.
"I love you," continued the other looking straight into his eyes, the gasps growing louder, almost deafening to Mu Qing "You are ... my first choice. Always."
Feng Xin's grip on his wrists suddenly grew weak, his arms falling to the ground. Mu Qing watched him remain motionless, his wide eyes turned to his husband, blank and dull. Mu Qing exhaled a broken, guttural breath, a wail that belonged to none of the three kingdoms which was followed by another and another and another as he tried to touch Feng Xin's face with his fingers, as he tried to think of what to do to help him, as he saw the blood stop dripping from his wounds, as, as, as.
"Ah. We killed the wrong one."
Qi Rong's voice reached Mu Qing's ears far away, but it was as if a dam inside him had burst, leaving him at the mercy of everything he felt. Hatred, anger, resentment, fury mixed inside him like a glowing tornado. Mu Qing remembered only that he had taken Zhanmadao in his hand. The rest was just a jumbled collection of screams, blood, and despair.
*
Mu Qing really had no idea what was going on. He felt only a searing anger and pain that he had never felt in his life. He felt his own chest aching, his fingers trembling as he gripped them with all his strength on the hilt of his own saber. He heard the wind around him, heard the trees rustling around him. He felt his own broken breath trying to fill his lungs between tears and sobs.
He stood still for a moment, looking around.
The silence was chilling. It was heavy, obscene, and despairing, and Mu Qing felt empty-headed as his eyes fixed on Feng Xin's corpse, motionless exactly as he had left it before he lost control. Mu Qing wanted to move, but the more he tried to order his body to do something, the more he felt himself slipping into a spiral of surrealism.
It wasn't real. Isn’t?
He could not move even when the silence was broken by the familiar jingling of Hua Cheng's boots or the light steps of Xie Lian’s, their clothes stained with blood too, their weapon still clenched in their hands. Mu Qing only felt his breath getting heavier, his hands trembling increasingly as Zhanmadao's weight seemed unbearable, tried to bite his lip as he continued to stare at Feng Xin's corpse, motionless, full of blood, full of arrows, the sword still stuck in his stomach. One arm was resting on his chest, the other on the ground, the open hand turned toward him, as if in a last desperate plea for help that he had failed miserably.
In the darkness of the night the jingling grew closer, and finally the light of the full moon illuminated Hua Cheng's figure, and shortly afterward Xie Lian appeared behind him, his white robes bathed in blood.
Mu Qing saw Xie Lian exhale a sob upon seeing Feng Xin and saw him run toward the corpse, and Mu Qing's anger exploded with such violence that at another time it would have frightened him. But it was all he had left; it was all that Qi Rong had not taken from him and stolen from him and desecrated him.
"Get away from him," he roared as he raised his saber, pointing it at Xie Lian "Don't you dare...get closer. Don't you dare...touch him."
Xie Lian obeyed, desperation visible on his face, tears that had already filled his eyes, down his wet cheeks. Mu Qing could not look at either of them, not even Hua Cheng who always managed to polarize his attention.
"Mu Qing...what happened?"
Mu Qing looked up at him, Hua Cheng was one of the most powerful Calamities in all three kingdoms. He was the fucking Ghost King. He looked him straight in the eye, for the first time in two years since they had last seen each other.
"...You can find him, can't you?" he whispered in a choked voice, "He's here, I'm sure of it. He can't... be gone. Not like this. Tell me... tell me he's here... please ," he mumbled biting his lip so violently that he cut himself.
Hua Cheng grimaced and opened his mouth but for a moment no sound came out.
"It doesn't... it doesn't work like that Mu Qing. Feng Xin... you know he didn't... he wasn't the type to feel any kind of resentment. He's not here."
Mu Qing went back to look at Feng Xin, still motionless, still full of blood, still dead, dead as he never imagined could happen in their very long existence.
“…so, he didn’t have any unfinished business? Any… wish, whatsoever?”, said again, his breath heavy in his chest “He is… just left me?”
Mu Qing had rarely felt so panicked. He had never trembled to the depths of his own soul. He had never felt his breath break from anguish more with each passing second. He had never felt despair seep not only into his veins but deep into his bones.
"...It's not true. Feng Xin is here. I'm sure of it," whispered Mu Qing, sliding down to the ground beside his husband, "You're lying to me. You are still punishing me, again and again and again!" he shouted clasping his fingers on Feng Xin's shirt, torn and full of blood "Stop lying to me. I thought..."
"Mu Qing, Feng Xin is not here," exclaimed Hua Cheng at his side, his cold hands clasped on his wrists "And you are injured, we will have to go back to the Divine City and..."
"No!" exploded Mu Qing, untying himself with a violent gesture "We won't leave here until..."
"He's dead," the ghost spoke over him, his voice more unsteady than before, "Feng Xin is dead. I can't… I can't do anything."
Mu Qing took a violent breath and shook his head.
"No. No, absolut--no," he exclaimed, feeling his breath break again, "No. He can't--can't--"
Mu Qing was not familiar with panic attacks. His breath was less and less in his lungs, his brain could not focus, could not create a meaningful thought. His body would not stop shaking, of the faint moans his throat still managed to produce, choked, full of suffering. Xie Lian approached him slowly, resting a hand on his shoulder.
"Let's go home Qing'er," he whispered in a broken voice, "We'll help you."
Mu Qing was unable to do anything but remain on the ground as Hua Cheng took Feng Xin's corpse in his arms, as if it weighed nothing. Mu Qing stood motionless looking at his husband's face, his hair disheveled, that scar on his eyebrow, the blood around his mouth, his eyes closed.
Mu Qing had never felt so lost and alone as at that moment.
*
Mu Qing sat motionless in their room, next to their bed. On the table some washcloths, a bucket of water. Next to it the finest clothes Mu Qing had find in Feng Xin’s wardroom, for the funeral. But it had been an unquantifiable time that he had been sitting there, in the same position, his head empty, his eyes fixed on his husband, still motionless, still dead.
Mu Qing felt empty, as empty as he had ever felt. He felt drained of all energy, both physical and mental. A soft knock on the door shook him out of his own state of shock and he turned around, finding Xie Lian on the threshold. Mu Qing immediately noticed the red, swollen eyes and the chapped lips and the nail marks on his arms.
"...Can I help you?" the prince asked in a rough voice, pointing to the table "But if you want to be alone, I can understand."
Mu Qing watched Xie Lian, the ghost of his usual gentle smile on his lips and said nothing as he set up the two bowls of water on either side of Feng Xin and as he handed the prince the clean cloths. Xie Lian thanked him in a half-voice, but Mu Qing continued to remain silent.
"...Thank you Qing'er," Xie Lian exclaimed without looking at him, "Feng Xin..."
"Please remain silent," Mu Qing interrupted him without looking at him and began to slowly undress his husband.
Xie Lian bowed his eyes and tightened his lips but added no more.
They remained for hours in silence.
*
Mu Qing said nothing throughout the ritual. He remained seated near the coffin, his hands clenched into fists inside the large sleeves of the white funeral robe he wore. The words of the priests echoed in his ears, along with the prayers of all the worshippers of Feng Xin on mortal earth.
He remained silent as the other deities offered their condolences and as they arranged the most precious gifts inside Feng Xin's coffin, around his corpse. He had limited himself to a few nods of the head here and there, trying not to focus on his husband's face, placid and almost serene now, as if he had not suffered while dying, as if he had truly accepted his own death, going beyond their world. He had tried not to look at his thick, slightly furrowed eyebrows, his long nose, his closed lips soft and red. He had tried not to focus on his broad shoulders, the military uniform he wore that covered the wounds that had killed him.
But in the end, he had hardly even noticed that he was alone inside the mortuary, only Xie Lian and Hua Cheng and Pei Ming waiting for him to take the coffin away, to bury him in General Nan Yang's eternal home.
Mu Qing was not sure he could move; not sure he had the energy for such a thing. He shifted his gaze to the still-open coffin and was forced to catch his breath. He felt tremendous anguish again when he thought of that moment as his farewell to his husband, to Feng Xin, to the one he had loved so intensely, so desperately.
Mu Qing felt his breath break in his chest as he stared at his face so relaxed and could not move, could not think of anything, could not say anything. He swallowed the rest of the air in his lungs and without knowing how he stood up, looked at Feng Xin for the last time and closed the coffin on his corpse. He did not even know how he managed to get home after leaving the coffin, he felt as if he were in a bubble where he felt nothing of what was happening and where he could not say anything.
It was only when he closed the bedroom door behind his back that something inside him broke. Feng Xin would never set foot in the room again. He would never again smile that sincere, sweet smile of his. No more would he kiss him; no more would he touch him. They would never again laugh together, never again argue over who had more blankets, who had more pillows. No more would he fall asleep with his deep breath and wake up wrapped in the warmth of his husband's body. No longer would he hear his voice repeating stupid jokes heard around him, no longer would he hear him say his tender, awkward I love you's.
The realization that an eternity without him now awaited him intruded into the cracks of his heart, breaking it for good.
He fell to the ground, trying to cry away his own pain, without succeeding.
*
Mu Qing had left the Divine City the day he buried his husband. Shi Xu had taken complete command of the two residences, but Mu Qing no longer cared about anything. Nothing made sense, nothing would ever get him back.
He had locked himself inside Paradise Manor, blocking the door with a protection spell. He sat on the floor, motionless, for weeks. He prayed and meditated. He prayed and meditated again. He felt exhausted. He wouldn't sleep more than a couple of hours at a time, he would wake up from terrifying nightmares where Feng Xin died over and over again in his arms, and every time he woke up and saw the haughty dedicated Feng Xin, he remembered that it wasn't a nightmare, that he had really died.
After weeks that Mu Qing could not have quantified, someone opened his door. In another situation Mu Qing would have been irritated to see how the spell had been broken but at that moment it did not surprise him to see Xie Lian, always so good and perfect in everything he did. He was amazed by his completely black robes, his hair simply tied in a ponytail. Mu Qing stood motionless for a long moment, then looked away.
"I want to be alone," Mu Qing muttered, his voice hoarse from weeks spent in silence.
"You've been locked in here for weeks Qing’er, without eating, without drinking, without sleeping. I don't think you should be completely alone, Qing'er. And San Lang would like to-" Xie Lian paused for a moment, not knowing exactly what to say, "San Lang is worried about you," he finally concluded, uncertain.
Mu Qing looked up at him and shook his shoulders. He felt empty and dull and lacking any energy to say or do anything.
"Please go away."
"Qing'er, don't leave us alone," Xie Lian whispered, his voice unsteadies, "We need you."
Mu Qing continued to look at him, then shook his head.
"And I need Feng Xin. But he is not here."
"But we are!" exclaimed the prince, "We are still here!"
"So what?"
Xie Lian did not even bother to hide the tears that slid down his cheeks. He looked at him for a very long moment, perhaps hoping for an afterthought, a small gesture of affection from Mu Qing toward him.
But Mu Qing said nothing, just looked at him again and again without adding more, his gaze cold, his body rigid. Xie Lian turned his back to him and left him alone.
*
Things did not change much, Mu Qing continued to sit in the corner of the room, in the dark, silent. But those were the benefits of being a deity. He did not really need to eat or sleep.
Only after a time that Mu Qing could not have quantified was Hua Cheng the one who knocked on his door. Mu Qing did not get up and remained motionless on the floor, legs at his chest, intent on staring at a spot in the darkness of the room.
"Mu Qing?"
Mu Qing did not answer, hating the glimmer of light that entered the room, forcing him to barely close his eyes. The next moment the ghost was sitting across from him, holding a bowl of chicken soup, the faint flame of a candle Hua Cheng had lit in the corner of the room.
"I'm not hungry," murmured the god, looking away.
Hua Cheng merely took the spoon from the table and held it out toward him.
"That was not a request."
Mu Qing was interjected for a moment and for some reason reached out and took the spoon and bowl, eating slowly. Hua Cheng did not move or say anything for as long as it took Mu Qing to eat, then he stood up, to leave and Mu Qing noticed that he was wearing plain white robes, without any jewelry and even his hair was tied in a ponytail.
"...Why are you dressed like that?"
Hua Cheng cast him a crooked look.
"What question is that?" he asked in turn as he opened the door, "I will be back by dinner time."
Mu Qing did not answer, and Hua Cheng left the room.
*
It began very slowly. Hua Cheng had started that day to bring him food and had done so for the following days, breakfast, lunch, and dinner. He would sit on the floor in front of him without saying anything and then leave when Mu Qing had finished. Then one day, unexpectedly, he had told him that next time he would eat at the table and Mu Qing had simply sat down, they had continued to remain silent while Hua Cheng waited. Then a little while later he had told him that he wanted him to wear clean robes and would send someone to help him wash up. Mu Qing had said nothing and was moved by two maids who took him to an adjoining room, washing his body and hair and helping him dress again. Mu Qing felt exhausted and by the time the two women had left he had laid down on the bed and fallen asleep for the first time in months. He slept so soundly that he had dreamed of nothing, neither Feng Xin, his death, nor his funeral.
When he woke up, Mu Qing felt exactly as exhausted as when he had collapsed, as weak and desperate as on the day of Feng Xin's funeral. There was only darkness around him, but he kept his eyes open, he did not need the light to know where the altar dedicated to Feng Xin was, every microscopic detail branded in his mind.
Mu Qing stood still, thinking, so immersed in his own thoughts that he did not want to eat, did not want to sit at the table, did not want to do anything.
And he did nothing.
He did absolutely nothing.
*
Mu Qing spent the day of the first anniversary of Feng Xin's death motionless in bed, his head empty of all thought, an emptiness mirrored the emptiness in his heart, echoing within his own body. He felt lonely. So lonely. He felt suffocated, so much so that at one point he felt the need to get up and open the window, to feel the air, to hear the noises, to break that silence and emptiness that devoured him, day after day.
He opened the window and took a moment to remember that his room adjoined that of Hua Cheng and Xie Lian. It was hot and they too must have had their window open, hoping for a breeze because he could hear their voices.
He heard Xie Lian's faint laughter, Hua Cheng's voice saying something and then a whispered " I love you San Lang, " his voice barely shaken by a sob. Mu Qing heard Hua Cheng say something again, something stupidly Hua Cheng like " You can cry with me, Your Highness. You are no longer alone; Mu Qing and I are here."
Mu Qing stood motionless, feeling an inexplicable sense of guilt clutching his stomach. No, he was not there. For the past year he had done nothing but vegetate in his own bed staring at Feng Xin's altar. Surely Feng Xin would have been able to console Xie Lian if it had been Mu Qing who had died. In reverse, Feng Xin would also have made Xie Lian cry in his arms, hiding his own grief, trying to move on just as Hua Cheng did. Feng Xin would have told him that everything would be all right. He would have given him a thousand and one kisses on his face, kissing away every tear. He would have tried to make him smile, cuddled him until he fell asleep on him. He would have loved him because Feng Xin was not weak and cowardly like Mu Qing, not stupid and useless like him, alive and dead at the same time.
"Mu Qing is still in shock," he heard Xie Lian say in a half-voice, unsteady, as if trying to control himself, "And I don't know how to help him. San Lang, what can we do?"
"Gege, you don't have to worry. Mu Qing will recover, it's still early. This is something he has to do alone, believe me, you can't help him."
At another time Mu Qing would have been irritated with Hua Cheng, simply because he hated it when the ghost was right. And he found himself thinking that Feng Xin had always been good at realizing his moods, too. At figuring out when Mu Qing simply wanted to vent, when he was throwing an unnecessary tantrum, when he wanted to be hugged and didn't know how to say it, especially when Mu Qing was looking for any excuse to argue because he was overwhelmed by everything around him.
He knew how to love him, in every situation. And Mu Qing had never really felt worthy of having someone like Feng Xin by his side, loyal and stupid and in love and perfect. It had taken Mu Qing years to really feel comfortable in their relationship, even in their marriage. Part of himself was always on guard, as if he expected nothing more than to be told that it was over between them, whatever it was that he didn't want to have him anymore, Mu Qing had so many faults and had given him so many reasons that he was spoiled for choice. In addition, Mu Qing's mind had always been catastrophic and pessimistic, and he had imagined a million additional scenarios or reasons but that was something he reserved for his own most terrible nightmares.
He had never really believed that just one of those could come true.
Dying?
...Feng Xin's death had always terrified him. He remembered how when he woke up from those nightmares he was always sweating, his breath broken, tears in his eyes, his heart beating as if mad. He remembered how he would immediately turn to Feng Xin, remembered how his husband would come up to him, how he would hug him tightly, almost to the point of pain. He remembered how he used to lie awake the rest of the night, as still as he had been for the entire year just past.
At that very moment he realized that Feng Xin's embrace was what he had been waiting for all that time. And he realized that never again would he receive it. Never again would he hear his voice whisper to him that everything was fine, that he was alive next to him, that it was just a nightmare. And that he would never again feel his pulse against his own back or the sound of his breathing.
...Feng Xin was dead.
...Feng Xin...
...was...
...dead.
Dead?
For a year?
Twelve whole lunar cycles spent in solitude and silence, seldom sleeping, his head perpetually empty or perpetually alert, as if he were looking for something to break the silence, but Mu Qing felt just as empty as that silence, empty of Feng Xin's voice, his laughter, his silly jokes or stories, empty of his sappy declarations of love when he was drunk, of his kisses in the morning, of his hot body.
And he would never have him again. Never again. Mu Qing would no longer have the bond that Hua Cheng and Xie Lian still had. And Mu Qing was finally able to name the feeling that had been gripping his chest since Feng Xin had died.
For a long time he had thought he felt empty but now he realized he was broken, severed from his soulmate.
Mu Qing exhaled a sudden, broken breath along with a coughing fit and felt on the verge of a sudden panic attack. The sudden noise of the door to his room opening caught him off guard and it took him a moment to focus on the figure of Xie Lian and another to realize that he was crying uncontrollably, the sobs breaking his breath.
"He's dead. Xie Lian...Feng Xin...is dead."
Xie Lian made a confused grimace, and at another time the compassionate smile that followed would have infuriated him, but at that moment it made him feel a little less broken, whatever the reason, and he sobbed even louder, unable to control himself. He found himself clinging to Xie Lian, half kneeling on the ground, anchored to him as if he were leaving with his own life.
"He's dead," he whispered, "Feng Xin is dead."
Mu Qing found himself squeezed even tighter in the prince's arms, one hand resting on his head.
"It will be all right Qing'er," he heard shortly after, "We are here with you."
Mu Qing cried and cried and cried even more as Xie Lian continued to console and comfort him.
He cried all the tears he had not been able to cry up to that moment.
*
When Mu Qing woke up, he was lying in bed next to Xie Lian. Hua Cheng was not there but he must have left briefly because his clothes were still half-thrown on a table. He remained sitting in bed, took a deep breath, and for the first time Mu Qing felt as if the boulder weighing on his chest was a little less heavy than normal.
Xie Lian yawned shortly after and Mu Qing tried to stretch a smile, failing miserably because he had never been good at smiling.
"...Did you sleep well Qing'er?" murmured the prince, rising to sit up in turn, "How do you feel?"
Mu Qing shook his shoulders and sighed.
"I don't know," he finally replied, looking away "I feel tired and stupid. I feel like I've thrown away a whole year vegetating."
Xie Lian sketched another smile and sat closer to him, taking his hand in his own.
"So what?" the other asked, smiling, "It's okay to take time to get back on track. It's okay to vegetate, it's okay to cry or not to cry. Your pain is yours alone Qing'er and how you decide to deal with it is your choice and no one has the right to interfere. I know it may not be important and I know we cannot give you back what you had with Feng Xin," the prince continued, taking his hands in his own and squeezing them tightly "But you are not alone Qing'er. San Lang and I are here. When you need us, we will always be here for you. You will tell us what you want, and you will do it when you are ready."
"...I don't deserve it, Xie Lian. I don't deserve it," Mu Qing exhaled.
"My beloved Qing'er," sighed Xie Lian hugging him tightly once more, stroking his head gently "This is a conversation for another time, but I can already anticipate that you are."
Mu Qing was weak. And he cried again and again and again. And again and again.
*
It had taken Mu Qing many months to return to feeling as if his body belonged to his mind again. There were days where he felt like he was floating in a vacuum, but the work helped. Sometimes he would work for days on end without a break, day and night. Other times he would stay in meditation, other times he would go back to vegetating in bed, in the dark, staring at the altar of Feng Xin.
But he had managed to get back on his own feet. He worked, went down to the land of mortals to supervise the most important work, went on reconnaissance. Since the two southern territories were no longer divided, Mu Qing's workload had tripled, and often patrolling the borders with the desert was the thing that made him feel most normal of all.
Sometimes Xie Lian would accompany him. When they had finished work, they would walk through the ruins of a city that had been their first home. Mu Qing had found a cathartic sense in recalling every moment they had experienced, especially those with Feng Xin. If they walked along the market square, Mu Qing would do so brushing past the ruins of what had once been the city palace, reaching as far as a corner where Feng Xin used to stop and watch an incredibly young Prince Xie Lian get excited by every stall he saw. Mu Qing remembered the serious gaze, the concentrated grimace, the furrowed brows, scanning the crowd for a threat. Feng Xin had always been an adult even as a teenager.
If they walked along the royal palace, until they reached the cliff of what used to be Xie Lian's private terrace, Mu Qing would sit on the edge, remembering those times when a barely teenager Xie Lian was lying on the ground at night gazing at the stars, babbling to Feng Xin everything new he had learned, every star and constellation, every legend and superstition.
If they walked near the Imperial Pavilion, Mu Qing would observe the old imperial bedrooms. Feng Xin slept in a room adjacent to the princes, and Mu Qing remembered when he and Xie Lian used to stay up late to play chess.
But that day Xie Lian was not there and for some reason Mu Qing felt the weight of those memories, which weighed more than usual on his chest, on his guilt, taking his breath away. Mu Qing reached the Imperial Pavilion again, all the way inside what used to be his room, now with only half a wall surviving. He leaned against the wall and stood motionless staring at the blue, cloudless, crystal-clear sky.
Mu Qing sighed heavily. He knew that he would have to get back on the road and that he still had work to do, but he could not really move. Feng Xin had been dead for four years, and for Mu Qing it seemed like only a handful of seconds had passed.
"Ah, I finally found you," Hua Cheng's deep voice suddenly commented, "What are you doing down here?"
"This was my room at the Imperial Pavilion," Mu Qing replied without looking at him, "Next to Xie Lian's room. And on the opposite side was Feng Xin's room."
"Interesting. But it doesn't answer my question."
"I don't have to give you any explanation as to why I am somewhere."
Before Feng Xin's death he had heard Hua Cheng only in his own head, for two years, they had not seen each other for all that time, since they had broken up after Hua Cheng forged Zhanmadao and since Feng Xin's death, for the next four years, their interactions had been brief and impersonal, they barely saw each other when they were with Xie Lian, and although their rooms were adjoining, without the prince each remained where he was. Mu Qing felt uncomfortable being alone with him, not really wanting to be around him or talk to him. Mu Qing wanted to, really wanted to try to find a way but just couldn't. Everything had always been easier with Xie Lian. Loving Feng Xin had been spontaneous, loving Xie Lian had been simple.
"What do you want?" the general continued when the ghost did not answer.
"I've been looking for you. Gege told me I would find you in Xianle," the other replied as he sat down and then lay down close to him "For some reason I thought he meant the royal palace, I don't know why."
Mu Qing shook his shoulders. He wished he had the strength to continue keeping his distance, to tell him that he did not want to see him. But he was tired of fighting. The last few years had drained him of any energy he had, so he decided simply to give up. Hua Cheng had taken the first step so many times now and Mu Qing could not and would not take a step back.
"...This is where I learned my first medical teachings," he finally replied, leaning back against the ruin, looking up at the sky again "While Xie Lian was training with Feng Xin, I was reading the books Guoshi had given him to study. I wanted to be a doctor; did I ever tell you that?" he murmured finally.
"No," replied the ghost in a low but careful voice.
"Only Feng Xin knew," the general continued "Just before the war with Yong'an I had decided to tell Xie Lian as well, but ... in the end here I am, a martial god," he sighed in a bitter tone "I have helped and cured hundreds of people throughout my life and the one person I should have been able to save, died," he finally murmured as he half-closed his eyes "Feng Xin died because of me."
"Feng Xin died because his wounds were too deep, no one could have helped him. You could have done absolutely nothing; his time had come."
Hua Cheng closed his mouth. Mu Qing tried to swallow back a sob but was not sure he had completely succeeded because the ghost resumed speaking shortly after.
"You cannot bring the dead back to life, you cannot spread good fortune, you cannot decide who to pluck from poverty and who to send to it. You are a deity but at the same time you have the same restrictions as an ordinary mortal. You can live longer, but every living thing has a beginning and an end. We are all born, and we all die. The how and when are not jurisdictions over which you have any kind of decision-making power."
"...You really suck at consoling people!" exclaimed Mu Qing, his voice unsteadies and hoarse.
"I'm not here to console you," replied Hua Cheng finally turning his head toward him, looking him straight in the eye "I'm here to tell you that you need to stop punishing yourself for something that's not up to you, but you know that yourself, Mu Qing."
Mu Qing looked away at that implied invitation to trivially vent to him. The general stared at the sky for a long moment.
"The truth..." he exclaimed, "The truth is that I know he is dead but every time I expect it to be Feng Xin."
"Every time?"
"Every time the door to my study opens. Every time someone contacts me in the mental communication channel. Every time I go down to the land of mortals, I always expect Feng Xin to come to me. Each time, of everything that exists and happens, each time I always expect that the person who will appear before me is Feng Xin," he exhaled at the end "The disappointment I feel each time exhausts me, leaves me breathless, forces me to accept again and again the fact that Feng Xin is dead. And I feel tremendous guilt."
"It was not your fault. You must not feel guilty."
Mu Qing bent his eyes toward the ground and took another deep breath.
"I feel guilty because sometimes I find myself thinking why not Xie Lian? Why not Hua Cheng? Why not me?" he admitted in a faint voice out of shame, "Why Feng Xin? And I feel horrible thinking these things. I feel horrible."
"But normal," replied Hua Cheng "You shouldn't chastise yourself so much."
Mu Qing sighed, swallowing back tears because the situation was pathetic enough as it was, and shrugged his shoulders.
"The last thing I would want is for something to happen to the only two other people I love," he said finally, "I don't know-I really don't know if I could recover if something were to happen to even one of you."
Hua Cheng did not immediately respond. Mu Qing did not look at him and prayed hard that Hua Cheng would not force him to repeat what he had said because if with Xie Lian exchanging certain statements was normal, with Hua Cheng it had never happened. Before their breakup, the situation was so unstable that Mu Qing could never have trusted him enough to tell him that he loved him, although he was aware of his own feelings. After the breakup, they had called each other a nothing, and Mu Qing had focused on really getting to know Hua Cheng and getting to know each other, learning to trust each other, to manage each other that Mu Qing could never ruin what they were building by imposing what he felt.
Now it had been spontaneous, because Hua Cheng had seen him more than once broken and vulnerable. Mu Qing trusted him on an unconscious level, and Hua Cheng had never failed to let him know that he was safe and that they would take care of him no matter what. And Mu Qing knew that no answer would come because the answer had been right under his nose for years. Hua Cheng had always been there at times when he needed it most and had never taken a step back.
"I want to tell Xie Lian the truth, that you have been talking to each other's for two years," he finally added.
The general had not expected much resistance but was still astonished when not even the tiniest hint of it came.
"All right. We should have done this a long time ago regardless. You tell me when you prefer to do it."
Mu Qing did not add anything else but let himself fall back on the ground next to him, gazing at the sky.
"Hua Cheng?"
"Hmm?"
"Thank you."
The ghost did not answer but it was no problem for Mu Qing. They remained silent for a few more moments.
"It will get better. Sooner or later, it will get better, you just have to hold on a little longer Mu Qing."
"Just a little more."
Just a little more and then, maybe, eventually, that stabbing emptiness he felt in his chest would be replaced with something else. Just a little more.
Just a little more.