Chapter 140: Extra 5 The Ghost King’s Birthday

A MAJOR EVENT was fast approaching.

This event had sent every ghost in Ghost City into a tizzy. Xie Lian was also shocked when he heard about it; soon he was just as antsy as the ghosts who had come to inform him in secret.

“Birthday?”

“That’s right!”

That’s right, indeed. The Lord of Ghost City, Hua Cheng, had a big birthday coming up—he was turning a ripe ol’ who-knew-how-many years old!

This information completely blindsided Xie Lian, and an inexplicable panic seized him.

“Then…then, then, then, then how did San Lang celebrate in the past?”

The ghosts fought to answer, and their responses were all over the place.

“With a huge party, quack!”

“It’s not really him doing the celebrating; we just fool around on our own, I guess…”

“But Chengzhu doesn’t care about it at all, you know?”

When he heard this, Xie Lian asked, “What do you mean, he doesn’t care at all?”

“His lordship never celebrates his birthday,” a ghost answered.

“Yeah, he never cares what we do on the big day. He never spares a look at any of our presents either, quack. So every year, his birthday bash is just us having a swell time on our own, quack.”

“The eminent have sparse memories—his lordship doesn’t seem to remember what day his birthday even is!”

Xie Lian thought for a moment, then made a firm decision. Since Hua Cheng had shown such little care for his previous birthdays, Xie Lian had to think of a way to make this one different—to make it notable and interesting, and to give him a perfectly happy day. Otherwise, wouldn’t it be a birthday just like all the rest, whether Xie Lian was with him or not?

First, a present was a must. Xie Lian fell into deep contemplation. What should he give?

The ghosts stared at him with hopeful eyes. “Xie-daozhang, are you thinking about what to give m’lord?” one asked.

“Yes,” said Xie Lian. “Much ashamed, I’m…not too confident I know what your Chengzhu likes. What if I give him something he doesn’t fancy…?”

“Please. What are you worried about?” the hog butcher assured. “As long as it’s from Granduncle…from Xie-daozhang, I’m positive Chengzhu will be beside himself with joy.”

“Yeah, he’d be happy even if you gave him a piece of scrap paper. Grand…Xie-daozhang’s present will always be different from anyone else’s!”

Xie Lian gave a dry chuckle in response. He considered that sort of thinking vain and frivolous; it wasn’t serious or sincere in the least.

“You can’t say that,” he said. “A present must be carefully chosen… Does anyone have any ideas?”

Hua Cheng had ruled over Ghost City for centuries, so perhaps the ghosts knew a bit more about the kinds of things he liked. Maybe there were some nascent ideas to be plucked from this group brainstorming session, and he’d be able to find a present that was both suitable and original if he used his head a little.

Sure enough, the crowd answered, “Yes, yes, yes!”

Dozens of chicken feet, pig trotters, and tentacles extended toward Xie Lian offering a mess of things, some of which even he’d never seen before. Amazed and surrounded, he picked an item at random—a small green jade bottle that was rather mysterious and elegant.

“Oh? What’s this?”

“The bestest love potion!” the offerer of the bottle said. “A few small drops, and the person being drugged is guaranteed to fall head over heels for the one doing the drugging! Their desire will be set ablaze—with no harm done to the body!”

After a pause, Xie Lian turned serious. “Thanks for the recommendation. However, love is born from the heart; how can it be manipulated by a potion? Don’t use things like this in the future, everyone,” he scolded.

“Yes, yes, you’re right; I won’t use it anymore,” the ghost who had offered the potion replied, fearful and reverent. “But we typically don’t really use it—I only suggested it because Xie-daozhang was asking what to give as a gift.”

Xie Lian didn’t know whether to laugh or cry at that. Why did they think he would need to give Hua Cheng a love potion?

“I don’t imagine your Chengzhu would need a potion like this,” he chuckled.

The crowd pushed that ghost down and away in a flurry of hands and feet, exclaiming, “Yeah! Would Chengzhu need to use a potion if he desired somebody? Honestly!”

That certainly is the big, fat truth of the matter, Xie Lian thought. In his own case, not a single drop of potion was needed—he was under Hua Cheng’s spell at the mere sight of him. How very shameful.

To keep his embarrassment from surfacing on his face in a blush, he quickly picked up a box.

“And what’s in here? Pearls? Pills?” he asked as he opened it.

“It’s a child-bearing pill!” the ghost who had offered the treasure replied.

“…”

Speechless, Xie Lian immediately snapped the box shut. He didn’t even need to ask what that thing did.

“What the heck is all this stuff…?” he mumbled helplessly.

Why were they only giving him such unseemly suggestions for Hua Cheng’s present?

In any case, after that messy excuse of a discussion, Xie Lian knew that there were no useful suggestions to be gotten from them. He told the ghosts to prepare the ghost king’s birthday celebration in secret to give Hua Cheng a surprise, then left to think on his own.

***

Perhaps the matter occupied so much of his mind that his grief was written on his face. He was racking his brain while keeping Hua Cheng company during his writing practice when the one beside him spoke.

“Gege.”

Xie Lian snapped out of it. “What is it?” he asked, tilting his head.

“Is it my imagination,” Hua Cheng began, putting down his brush and staring intently at him, “or are you worried about something, gege? Won’t you tell me and allow your San Lang to share your burdens and help solve the problem?”

Xie Lian tensed and neutralized his expression in an instant. “Do not put down your brush,” he warned. “Do not slack. Pick it back up. Continue.”

Hua Cheng laughed aloud and picked up his brush anew. “I got caught,” he lamented with a lazy sigh.

Seeing that he’d managed to muddle the matter for now, Xie Lian gave a mental sigh of his own in relief.

Yet Hua Cheng only wrote two more lines before he said, sounding casual, “But, gege, you certainly have been acting a little odd lately.”

Xie Lian tensed again. “Oh? How so?”

Hua Cheng studied him for a while before chuckling. “Gege seems a little more…compliant than usual.”

“Haven’t I always been like that?” Xie Lian replied with a smile.

But Xie Lian really was drawing a blank even after he’d thought long and hard, so he decided to take a risk. He blabbed about nothing in particular for a little while, then he asked with an attempt at nonchalance, “San Lang, I’ve got a question for you.”

“Hmm? What is it?” Hua Cheng asked.

“Do you ever feel that something is…lacking? Or something?” Xie Lian asked.

“Lacking?” Hua Cheng wondered. “What do you mean, gege? Do you lack something?”

“Oh, no…I meant you. I’m just asking…”

But Xie Lian didn’t dare to be too straightforward, lest Hua Cheng catch on. Instead of asking questions like “What kinds of things do you like?” or “What sort of presents do you want?” he knew he had to ask in a roundabout way, but he wasn’t sure if rounding about would supply the information he needed. What a terribly stressful business this was.

“Me?” Hua Cheng wondered. “Does gege think I lack anything?”

He truly didn’t. Xie Lian couldn’t help but deflate in embarrassment.

“Why do you ask, gege?”

Afraid he was about to catch on, Xie Lian took the extreme option and gave him a hard shove. Hua Cheng was never on guard against him, so he was knocked back against the bed with a thud.

Although his eye went wide in surprise, he clearly didn’t object to the treatment.

“Gege, what is this?” he asked, flashing a smile. “Such enthusiasm. You—”Xie Lian boldly approached and sealed his words, preventing Hua Cheng from finishing that thought. Soon, Hua Cheng had lost all mind for further interrogation. He captured him in his arms, flipped their positions, and stopped caring about Xie Lian’s odd behavior.

***

Although Xie Lian racked his brain long and hard, he was still coming up empty, so he had no choice but to seek outside help. And the first ones he thought of were, of course, his two capable former subordinates.

The three of them crouched together in a remote, unknown, run-down temple.

After a period of awkward silence, Feng Xin asked, “What are you two looking at me for?”

The other two continued to stare at him, their silence speaking for them.

It couldn’t be helped. Of the three of them, Feng Xin was the only one who’d ever had a wife, so he should technically be the one who knew best about how to delight one’s beloved. But Feng Xin’s face only grew darker the more they stared.

“…It won’t be any use, no matter how long you two stare at me,” he said. “I only ever gave her one thing.”

And it was a golden belt—one that Xie Lian had given him.

Mu Qing couldn’t believe he’d been dragged out to discuss something like this. The fact that he wasn’t yet rolling his eyes was already very polite of him. All he wanted was to get this over with quickly.

“That works. Belts are nice. You might as well give him a golden one too.”

Xie Lian automatically filtered out the sarcasm and replied, “But I don’t have any more.”

They had all been pawned centuries ago!

Going harder on the passive-aggression, Mu Qing said, “Everything’s smooth sailing for you now; the streets are filled with your temples and devotees. Just send any of those people a dream and tell them what you want. That’ll net you a golden belt, no problem.”

“But that’s meaningless,” Xie Lian said. “I’d hardly be putting my heart in it if I got my devotees to offer me a present that I want to give someone else.”

Seeing that his sarcasm hadn’t been registered, Mu Qing’s tone finally returned to normal. “Why are you being such a pain? Just make something yourself, then.”

“Good idea!” Xie Lian said quickly. “But I don’t know how.”

“You can learn.”

“You’re right. But from whom?”

Mu Qing was growing impatient. “How should I know? Just grab someone…”

Before he could finish his sentence, Mu Qing trailed off and realized that the stares were now on him.

Four hours later, all ten of Xie Lian’s fingers were covered with needle pricks and fully wrapped in bandages to keep his hands from streaming blood. His pain and effort had produced a long, striped object of indeterminate purpose.

Unable to stand the sight of the thing, Mu Qing demanded, “What is that?”

Xie Lian sighed. “A belt.”

“I know it’s a belt,” Mu Qing said gruffly. “What I’m asking is, what did you attempt to embroider on it? What are those two potatoes supposed to symbolize?”

“They aren’t potatoes!” Xie Lian protested. “They’re two people. Can’t you tell?”

To help Mu Qing better visualize it, he gestured as he explained. “These are their faces. These are the eyes. The mouths are here—”

After confirming that those were indeed the heads of two human beings, Mu Qing was floored. “Who embroiders two giant heads on a belt?! Can you even wear something like that in public? Your taste in fashion isn’t that terrible, so how did you manage to churn out something like this?”

Xie Lian couldn’t help it. He was adept when it came to things like fixing up a house, digging a well, building walls, and so on—he was good and fast at those tasks. But he was apparently born to be inept when it came to household crafts that women were partial to; the situation spiraled out of control the moment he picked up a needle or a spatula. He glanced at his hands, both now wrapped as thoroughly as zongzi. Although he didn’t feel pain, he couldn’t help being discouraged by the speed of his progress.

“…I’ll fix it, I guess.”

But the work was complete, so how could he fix it? The most he could do was add a circle of flower petals around the pair of little heads, thus transforming them into a canoodling pair of big, clumsy flower heads.

Feng Xin and Mu Qing grimaced harder, and veins bulged faintly on Mu Qing’s forehead.

“I taught a pig and it learned,” he scolded. “Why are you such a klutz? All you’re doing is stabbing your hands!”

Feng Xin spoke up. “When did you ever teach a pig? You’re all talk!”

“Forget it, you should just give up. You don’t have the talent for this,” Mu Qing said bluntly to Xie Lian.

It was rare that he got to tell Xie Lian that he didn’t have the talent for something, and with a total lack of humility, to boot. It felt kind of nice.

Feng Xin couldn’t listen to him anymore. “Can you cut the crap? You haven’t praised His Highness even once since we started. Wearing clothes and making them yourself aren’t the same thing! Besides, the belt isn’t that bad—at least it’s wearable.”

“All right, sure. Have him give you that thing, and if you dare wear it outside, you win.”

Before Feng Xin had a chance to respond, Xie Lian hurried to tuck away the belt that was so ugly it was funny.

“Oh no, let’s not. I’d better just keep this for myself!”

He couldn’t give anyone something like this!

***

Feng Xin and Mu Qing weren’t much help, so Xie Lian went to the next person who crossed his mind.

“A gift? Your Highness, you’ve come to the right person. There’s not a single rare treasure out there that the Wind Ma…that I’ve never laid eyes on!”

The two crouched on the side of the road. Enthusiasm ignited, the disheveled Shi Qingxuan gushed on and on. He was obviously an expert on this matter, and Xie Lian’s requests for advice grew even more humble.

“There definitely are precious treasures out there that haven’t been claimed, but you’ve got to put in an immense effort to get them,” Shi Qingxuan advised eagerly.

“That’s fine,” Xie Lian quickly assured him. “That suits me perfectly.”

More effort meant a more precious treasure—and wouldn’t that demonstrate his sincerity wonderfully? All the better if it was the treasure hardest to acquire in the whole world, one that no one had ever succeeded in obtaining. That way, it would make for an extraordinarily meaningful gift should he retrieve it for Hua Cheng. When he thought about how Hua Cheng would slightly arch one eyebrow and curl one corner of his lips upward, Xie Lian was seized by uncontrollable excitement—he couldn’t wait to jump into action.

Shi Qingxuan thought for a moment, then suggested, “The Starry Sky Flagon! You’ve heard of it before, right, Your Highness? That thing is a treasure, I tell you. Set it out under the night sky, and the fine wine in the flagon will reflect the sea of stars as it absorbs the essential spiritual energy of the heavens, the earth, the sun, and the moon. Not only is it a charming, elegant decorative piece, it’s also a great cultivation aid—”

However, as he listened, Xie Lian had a sinking feeling. “Wait.”

“What?”

“Qingxuan, are you talking about a small black jade flagon—about this big?” Xie Lian asked, gesturing a vague size. “With stardust encrusting the surface like fine gems?”

“Huh? How did Your Highness know? Have you seen it before?” Shi Qingxuan asked in amazement.

“…”

He hadn’t just seen it; last month, he broke it. He had wanted to pour himself some water and forgot he’d injured his arm, so his hand slipped.

At the time, Hua Cheng came over immediately to inquire about his injury. Xie Lian noticed that the flagon had been exceptionally unique and beautiful, so he asked Hua Cheng what to do about it and whether it could be repaired. However, Hua Cheng had simply assured him that it was okay—that it was nothing but a petty trinket. He didn’t spare it a single glance before calling for a subordinate to sweep up and toss out the pieces, then he whisked Xie Lian away to treat his arm.

Hearing Shi Qingxuan’s description, he had to think—could that shattered drinking vessel have been the rare Starry Sky Flagon?!

With a sinking heart, Xie Lian paused and said, “That one…might not be suitable. How about something different?”

“Oh.” Shi Qingxuan scratched his head, not quite understanding, but he racked his brain briefly and tried again. “Next one—the Eight Corners Brush! That brush is amazing, I tell you. The bristles were plucked from the tip of an ancient yao beast’s magic tail, and its shaft was wrought from a stalk that sprouted atop the head of a jade bamboo spirit. When not in use, it will grow—”

“Jade-green bamboo leaves?” Xie Lian cut in.

“Yeah! How did you know that, Your Highness? You’ve seen that one before too?” Shi Qingxuan asked.

How could Xie Lian not know it? That was the brush Hua Cheng used every day for writing practice, and he’d blame it when his writing came out ugly. He had chucked it to the floor time and time again, and sometimes it’d get kicked away to who knew where. After practice, Xie Lian often had to scour the room to find where the poor brush had gotten to, then pick it up, wipe it off, and put it away.

“…That might not be suitable either,” Xie Lian said. “Do you have any other ideas?”

Shi Qingxuan rattled off seven or eight treasures, one after the other. Xie Lian discovered that all the things most people considered the world’s rarest treasures sounded awfully familiar to him—and they were all in awfully tragic states. They were serving as Hua Cheng’s footstools and throw rugs; he either played with them like toys or had already lost interest and tossed them away!

However, on reflection, Xie Lian considered that fairly logical. Was there a single rare treasure out there that Hua Cheng hadn’t seen or couldn’t get his hands on easily?

Thus, this line of thinking was another dead end, and the search for the ghost king’s birthday present continued.

***

A drowning man will clutch at a straw; Xie Lian had asked pretty much everyone he knew, or at least everyone he had any hope of getting a decent answer from. Quan Yizhen only knew how to stuff gold bars into things, and Hua Cheng didn’t lack for money. Pei Ming only knew how to give presents to women and couldn’t come up with anything serious when asked what to give a man. As for Ling Wen…although she had escaped prison thanks to the many high-ranking heavenly officials who vouched for her—and because she was absolutely irreplaceable in the Upper Court—she was so thoroughly submerged in the sea of scrolls that had been thrown at her that she’d lost all sense. She knew nothing beyond working through reports at this point. Life in prison would’ve been much less stressful.

Without any workable ideas from anyone he’d asked, Xie Lian was out of options.

There were only two days until Hua Cheng’s birthday. Xie Lian lay awake with his eyes wide open and thought about it for an entire night. Finally, as he greeted the dawn with bloodshot eyes, he decided on what he would give.

With a clear goal in mind, he sat up quietly in bed, moving slowly. He glanced at Hua Cheng, who was sleeping soundly next to him.

Hua Cheng’s hair was luminously black like raven feathers, and his long eyelashes were as dark as ink. When his eyes were shut tightly, it wasn’t obvious that one of them was no longer there. His handsome features and the natural aggressiveness of his expression softened in sleep. Right now, he looked endlessly gentle.

Before Xie Lian could climb out of bed, he felt a sudden tightening around his waist, then a hand scooped him back.

“Gege, what are you doing up so early?” asked a lazy voice behind him.

Hua Cheng had woken up! His voice was low and a bit raspy, like he was still half-asleep.

Caught in the act and scooped back to bed, Xie Lian forced down his guilt and replied in a calm voice. “Oh, there’s a prayer to be answered.”

Hua Cheng shuffled closer and dropped a kiss by his ear. “The sky hasn’t lightened yet,” he said. “Who’s gone to pray at a temple so early in the morning? Are they looking to die?”

Perhaps it was his guilty conscience, but Xie Lian’s face was growing hotter and hotter as he listened to the voice at his ear.

“No, it didn’t just come in. I’ve been letting it sit for a while now…”

He tried to get up again as he spoke, as it was honestly difficult to speak normally in that position, but Hua Cheng followed him upright. He circled his arms around Xie Lian’s shoulders from behind and rested his head against the curve of his neck.

“Since you’ve been letting it sit, what does it matter if you let it keep sitting? Gege, you worked so hard last night. Why don’t you rest a bit more?”

As Xie Lian struggled to fend off his clingy arms and alluring voice, he said with immense reluctance, “I…I’ve already let it sit for too long. I can’t hold off on it any longer…”

“Oh,” Hua Cheng said. “Then shall I go with you?”

“No, it’s okay,” Xie Lian quickly declined. “It won’t take too long; I’ll be back very soon. You just rest!”

“Are you sure you don’t need me to come with you?” Hua Cheng confirmed.

“No!” Xie Lian exclaimed. “You can’t come. You absolutely mustn’t!”

Hua Cheng cracked his eye open a slit. “Why not?”

Xie Lian was stumped briefly, but then he whirled around and seized Hua Cheng by the shoulders. “You…must practice writing,” he commanded him sternly, looking him straight in the eye.

Hua Cheng looked at him with an innocent expression. He blinked.

“You must stay in the temple all day today to practice,” Xie Lian forced himself to say. “I’ll check your work when I return!”

As this order was issued, Hua Cheng’s expression only grew more innocent, and he tilted his head as he replied very obediently. “Okay.”

Now that the ghost king had been managed at last, Xie Lian scrambled away. Half reclining atop their altar bed, Hua Cheng smiled as he watched his fleeing back with a narrowed eye. He pillowed his arms behind his head and lay back down.

***

First, Xie Lian traveled out into the wilderness. After collecting the thing he’d set out for, he made for Mount Tonglu. He approached a small cottage in a forested area of the greater mountain range.

As soon as he walked inside, he saw that the state preceptor had set up a table and dragged three empty-shelled people around it to play cards. His face was set and serious, and Xie Lian immediately turned to leave without a word.

However, the state preceptor’s eyes flashed when he saw him. “Stop right there!” he barked.

Xie Lian knew there was only one circumstance in which the state preceptor would allow him to interrupt a game. Sure enough, the state preceptor flipped the table seconds later.

“Game’s over, something’s come up. Gotta go! Get back here, Your Highness! Why did you come seek me out?”

Xie Lian looked back and saw the three empty-shelled people flop to the ground. Clearly, the state preceptor had been on the verge of losing.

“It’s not actually anything important,” he lied.

“No, no,” said the state preceptor quickly. “Judging by your serious expression, it must be something major! The cards can wait. Let your master help you!”

“…”

After Xie Lian explained the reason for his visit, however, the state preceptor wore a different expression. As the two of them sat together on a long, crude bench, the only thing echoing through the air was the state preceptor’s scolding.

“You’re right, it isn’t anything important. A mere birthday! It’s not worth racking your brain over, running all over the place—and going to retrieve that thing personally!”

Xie Lian knew he couldn’t explain himself to others; they wouldn’t understand even if he tried. He rubbed his forehead so hard it began to turn red. “Either way, I’ve already collected the primary material,” he said. “It’s just that I’ve forgotten how to forge the Xianle style of longevity lock, like the one I wore when I was little. Master, will you please give me some pointers? There’s no need for you to do anything else; I’ll do all the work myself.”

“You don’t need to prepare any birthday presents,” the state preceptor said gruffly, like he still couldn’t get over the very idea. “You already delivered yourself to his doorstep; what more does he want?!”

“…”

Did he mean to say “You’re the best present of all”? Xie Lian really couldn’t stand that kind of argument—the concept itself bothered him. He slapped a hand over his forehead and thought, I’m not that vain.

Seeing him shake his head and wholeheartedly resist the idea, the state preceptor said, “And you’re being pathetic, honestly. You are the only heavenly official in history who has ever ascended thrice! You are the Flower-Crowned Martial God, the Crown Prince of Xianle! At seventeen, you had the audacity to tell the whole world that you were going to save the common people! At eighteen—”

“Master! Stop!” Xie Lian cut in. “Master! Enough! Don’t say any more!”

With such an embarrassing past, what was there to be proud of?!

The state preceptor watched him with a complicated expression. “Your Highness, you really don’t need to belittle yourself like this,” he said, exasperated.

“It’s not that I’m belittling myself, it’s just…”

It was just…when it came to the man he loved, it was natural to want to give him the best the world had to offer. But he also couldn’t help feeling that he wasn’t good enough for him.

The sight of Xie Lian right now made the state preceptor sigh. He crossed his hands and tucked them into his sleeves, thought for a while, and then said, “A longevity lock, hmm? Wait a moment and let me think. That was so long ago now; I can’t be sure that I remember every detail of how to craft it, or the blessing ritual.”

“That’s fine,” Xie Lian said. “If you can’t remember either, then I’ll piece it together from memory. I’m certain my sincerity will make up for the rest.”

After a short pause, the state preceptor glanced at Xie Lian and said, “Do you want to ask him?”

“…”

He didn’t say the name, but Xie Lian knew exactly whom he was speaking of.

Jun Wu was imprisoned deep in Mount Tonglu’s underground.

Xie Lian was silent for a long time, but in the end, he shook his head.

***

After spending another good half a day at Mount Tonglu, Xie Lian returned to Ghost City.

There were only a few hours left before Hua Cheng’s birthday formally arrived. The ghosts and Xie Lian had agreed to pretend there was nothing afoot while sneakily decorating Ghost City in secret. Xie Lian dodged into a small shop, and it wasn’t long before he was surrounded by ghosts.

Anxious and chaotic, they asked him, “Well? How’d it go?”

They were practically acting like thieves.

“How is your Chengzhu?” Xie Lian asked. “Has he noticed anything off?”

“Nope, nope,” replied the ghosts. “Chengzhu stayed inside Thousand Lights Temple all day.”

Xie Lian was slightly amazed. “The entire day?”

“Yeah! Chengzhu seems to be in a good mood. Grand…Xie-daozhang, did you prepare a birthday present?”

Reassured at last, Xie Lian smiled and touched the longevity lock he’d worked so hard to forge.

“Yes,” he said.

The ghosts were elated. They spent some time discussing the setup for tomorrow’s birthday celebration before Xie Lian finally returned to Thousand Lights Temple. Surprisingly, Hua Cheng was still practicing calligraphy when he walked in.

Hua Cheng actually doing his writing practice without Xie Lian’s constant supervision was certainly a once-in-a-lifetime event; it seemed he truly was in a good mood. Xie Lian found it oddly funny to see that pitiful, precious Eight Corners Brush write such twisted, hideous words at the behest of Hua Cheng’s hand, and he shook his head.

At the sound of Xie Lian’s return, Hua Cheng put down the brush, giving it a break from his torture at last.

“Gege, you’re back?” Hua Cheng said with a smile. “Just in time. Come take a look at my results.”

Xie Lian grinned. “Okay.”

Just as he was about to approach, however, his face froze for a second and his steps faltered. He stopped, frowning.

Hua Cheng instantly noticed something was wrong and was at Xie Lian’s side in the space of a second. “What is it?”

Xie Lian’s expression swiftly returned to normal. “Nothing.”

It wasn’t nothing. He had felt a sharp, acute pang in his heart.

But Hua Cheng would not allow him to neglect his own health. “Where did you go today?” he asked as he caught Xie Lian’s wrist. “Did you get hurt again?”

“No,” Xie Lian said.

And that was the truth—he really hadn’t. Although he’d been running around for the past few days, everything had gone quite smoothly, and he hadn’t encountered any danger.

Hua Cheng hummed briefly. Unable to detect anything amiss, he dropped Xie Lian’s wrist. Xie Lian breathed deeply, in and out; he didn’t notice anything amiss either. Perhaps that pain had just been his imagination.

“Maybe I tweaked a nerve or something?” Xie Lian said with a laugh. “All right, let me see how you’ve done today.”

Only then did Hua Cheng smile once more. Catching Xie Lian’s hand, he said, “Come here.”

Xie Lian hadn’t responded before he felt another sudden stab of pain in his heart.

This time, it was definitely not his imagination! He felt it keenly. If the first time was a pinprick of pain, then the second was like his heart being raked by sharp nails. Fortunately, Hua Cheng had briefly turned his head away when it happened—Xie Lian might not have been able to blow it off as “nothing” otherwise.

The timing of this problem was inconvenient; Xie Lian didn’t want to tell Hua Cheng and make him worry right now. They played around inside Thousand Lights Temple for a while before Xie Lian found an excuse to leave and examine himself more carefully.

A moment later, he dropped his arm, his expression solemn.

The conclusion was, of course, that there was no problem whatsoever. Otherwise, Hua Cheng would’ve caught it when he grabbed his wrist to check his pulse earlier.

So why was he experiencing random pangs of heartache?

Xie Lian pondered the matter for a moment and wondered if some evil spirit might have entered his body, or if perhaps he’d been poisoned by something strange. He didn’t panic, though—at least not yet. It would be Hua Cheng’s birthday very soon, and if something happened, he would surely have no mind to celebrate and would instead drag Xie Lian off for treatment again.

Xie Lian was used to bearing pain, and it wasn’t like he hadn’t experienced strange things like this before, so he didn’t think anything of it. He decided to give it a day and deal with it on his own in secret later.

Night came, and the hour was fast approaching. Xie Lian went back to Thousand Lights Temple and found Hua Cheng still inside—blatantly bored out of his mind and making a show of doodling and wasting paper. Xie Lian began to smile at the sight despite himself. Before the smile could fully bloom on his face, however, there was another stab of pain in his heart.

When rubbing his chest didn’t make it go away, he thought, Looks like this is a little serious…but I can bear it for a while longer.

He drew a soft breath and walked in. “San Lang? There’s something I might need your help with,” he said gently.

“What is it?” asked Hua Cheng as he put the brush down.

“Close your eye first,” said Xie Lian.

Hua Cheng quirked his eyebrow, but he closed his eye as directed without question.

Xie Lian picked up his hands and said with a smile, “Follow me.”

This was a reversal of that night on Mount Yujun. Hua Cheng smiled.

“Sure.”

“Watch the threshold,” cautioned Xie Lian as he slowly guided Hua Cheng to the door, hand in hand.

Hua Cheng had walked through Thousand Lights Temple countless times and didn’t need a reminder of how to walk where. Nonetheless, he waited until Xie Lian had given him the reminder before he lifted his boot, the silver chain on it jingling as he did so. They passed through the front gates and made their way down the long street that led away from the temple.

They had walked for a while before Xie Lian said, “Okay, now you can open your eye.”

Hua Cheng did as directed. In that instant, his ink-black eye brightened at once, like a lamp set alight.

Lanterns and colorful banners hung along the rambling main street. It was much tidier and fresher than the usual messy streetside; every household had made great efforts to clean up. New banners and signs replaced the tattered old ones, the walls and eaves were shiny and glistening—everything looked brand new.

The ghosts had them surrounded before they realized it, but all of them were holding their breaths and didn’t dare make a sound. The moment Hua Cheng opened his eye, they started blowing horns and drumming drums and hollering a messy chorus of “Happy birthday, Chengzhu!” Some also used the chance to yell “May you live a long time together,” and even “Have a child soon.” It was a horrid ruckus!

Xie Lian slapped a hand to his forehead at the sight of this awful presentation. They had spent a long time rehearsing and had managed—just barely—to cheer in chorus. So why was it now such anarchy?!

Hua Cheng was expressionless and apparently utterly unmoved by any of this. “What are you all doing? This racket is murderous,” he said, one brow arched.

The ghosts had abandoned their rehearsed presentation. With shockingly thick skin, they replied, “Then we die! It’s not like anyone here’s alive anyway!”

Hua Cheng snorted a laugh. When he turned around, he saw Xie Lian standing behind him, hiding his hands behind his back.

“San Lang,” Xie Lian began, “I heard…it’s your birthday today?”

Hua Cheng had clearly been waiting for this for a long time. He crossed his arms and tilted his head, replying with a grin. “Mm-hmm. Yeah.”

Xie Lian cleared his throat softly a few times, then suddenly hopped up and looped the longevity lock’s chain around his neck.

“This…was forged in a hurry,” Xie Lian said. “Hope you don’t mind!”

The longevity lock was engraved with patterns like the ones found on Hua Cheng’s vambraces: maple leaves, butterflies, beasts, and so on, all carved in exquisite detail. Furthermore, it contained potent spiritual power—this was clearly an extraordinary item.

The ghosts hollered, raising a fanfare.

“Sublime! It’s gorgeous! What is that treasure?!”

“Ah! Only Chengzhu is worthy of wearing such a treasure! Only such a treasure is worthy of being worn by Chengzhu!”

They were so over the top that Xie Lian didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. He was growing ever more nervous, not knowing whether he should ask Hua Cheng what he thought of the gift. Hua Cheng didn’t say a word, but his eye shone brightly, and a touch of a smile was surfacing on his lips.

He picked up the silver lock that hung around his neck. However, just as he was about to speak, something unexpected happened.

Xie Lian’s knees suddenly buckled, and he dropped to the ground.

It was so sudden that the circle of cheering ghosts turned into a circle of alarmed cries. Hua Cheng’s smile faded immediately, and he caught him with a swift hand.

“Gege? What’s wrong?”

Though his face was pale, Xie Lian managed a smile. “Noth—”

The sentence died in his throat before it could even begin.

Oh no, there it is again!

The inexplicable heartache had struck again. This time, the pain was excruciating—like his heart was being blown to pieces.

Xie Lian groaned inwardly. He hadn’t expected the onslaught of pain to be so aggressive. Each attack was more brutal than the previous—and it just had to strike now!

He was still rather calm, all things considered, but the agony went on and on—it felt like someone was hammering a peachwood5 nail into his heart. Xie Lian was in so much pain that it was hard to breathe. He could barely lift his head, which was drenched in cold sweat.

Hua Cheng’s expression had changed completely. “Your Highness?!” He caught Xie Lian’s wrist, but he still couldn’t detect anything wrong. “Your Highness! Where did you go yesterday?!”

Panicked cries sounded from all around. Although Xie Lian moved his lips, he couldn’t utter a single word—it was like something had nailed his throat closed.

The arms that held Xie Lian were nearly shaking. A frenzy that bordered on madness colored Hua Cheng’s handsome face, which had once always looked calm and unbothered. Another heavy pang struck Xie Lian’s heart, and he finally passed out, unable to hold out any longer.

Before he lost consciousness, the word “sorry” filled his mind.

Today was Hua Cheng’s birthday!

***

An unknown amount of time passed before Xie Lian jolted awake. He stared blankly at the ceiling above, not yet having caught his breath.

This is…Thousand Lights Temple? he thought dazedly. What happened to me…? Did I fall asleep?

He was still slowly coming back around when a hand suddenly caught and supported him.

Not inches away from him, he heard Hua Cheng’s voice. “Your Highness?”

Xie Lian looked up, and sure enough, he saw Hua Cheng’s expression was burning with pure, desperate concern. Xie Lian blinked and was just about to speak when another wave of excruciating pain struck his heart.

Now he was thoroughly awake. He hunched over instantly, his fingers nearly digging into the flesh of his chest—he exerted immense strength, like he was trying to claw out his own heart by force. Hua Cheng immediately seized his wrist.

“Your Highness!” he cried.

Had he not moved as fast as he did, five bloody holes would’ve bloomed on Xie Lian’s chest right above his heart.

“This doesn’t look right. Why don’t you let go of him first?!” said a voice from the side—Mu Qing. He was here too, surprisingly.

“What if he hurts himself when I do?!” exclaimed Hua Cheng.

“I’ll help you hold him down!” Feng Xin’s voice chimed in. “If we don’t figure out what’s wrong quickly, the pain won’t stop!”

Still hunched over, Xie Lian felt another hand seize his wrist. Hua Cheng seemed to falter at Feng Xin’s words, and sure enough, he released him.

It was strange—the pain lessened significantly the moment he let go. At the very least, Xie Lian could move now. When he flipped onto his side, he noticed that Feng Xin and Mu Qing were standing at his bedside. They had probably been summoned here for questioning. As for Hua Cheng, he was standing nearby and watching him with an unblinking eye.

When Xie Lian saw him, the ache, which had finally subsided somewhat, made a comeback in full force.

Seeing his face change colors again, Mu Qing turned to Hua Cheng. “Stand further back! He starts hurting whenever you come close—whenever he sees you!”

Hua Cheng froze when he heard those words, and a terrible, almost indescribable expression crossed his face. Nonetheless, he darted away immediately, retreating outside the room—and when he disappeared from Xie Lian’s line of sight, the agony in his heart abruptly ceased once more.

The ebb and flow of the pain was driving Xie Lian nearly mad. He panted a few times, then gritted out with difficulty, “What…in the world…is going on?”

Mu Qing and Feng Xin were holding him down firmly to prevent him squirming into a position where he could peek at Hua Cheng.

“‘What’s going on’? We should be asking you that! What’s going on with you? You must’ve messed with something!” Mu Qing exclaimed.

“…Wouldn’t I know if I had?” Xie Lian said. Besides, Hua Cheng had checked him over earlier.

“Then did you go anywhere strange over the past few days?” Mu Qing asked.

“The only places I went were to Mount Tonglu and…the State Preceptor’s Tomb,” Xie Lian replied.

Mu Qing furrowed his brow. “What? The State Preceptor’s Tomb? Which State Preceptor’s Tomb?”

Hua Cheng, who was standing outside the room, understood immediately. “State Preceptor Fangxin’s Tomb?”

“San Lang, why don’t you come in…?” Xie Lian beckoned.

“Gege, it’s best for you to stay in there and recuperate. I’ll take a look on your behalf,” came Hua Cheng’s low, grave voice from outside the room.

“I’ll go too!” cried Xie Lian.

But the moment he rose, he crumpled back down in pain. There were no further sounds from Hua Cheng after that, so he had probably already left.

Xie Lian arduously attempted to rise again, and Mu Qing said, “You should stop moving around. You can barely walk at this point!”

Four hands pushed Xie Lian back down.

“It’s not like I’ve never been in pain before,” Xie Lian exclaimed, struggling all the while. “I’ll get used to it.”

He couldn’t stop seeing Hua Cheng because of this.

“You’re willing to be in pain, but your San Lang isn’t willing to allow that,” Mu Qing pointed out.

Xie Lian was taken aback. As he recalled Hua Cheng’s face when he fainted from the pain, and then Hua Cheng’s face when his expression scrunched in pain at his approach, Xie Lian’s breathing hitched. His face paled as another wave of torment tore violently at his heart.

Feng Xin and Mu Qing both stared at him.

Dumbfounded, Feng Xin asked, “Didn’t Crimson Rain Sought Flower leave? Why is he still in pain?”

But Mu Qing was sharper and asked Xie Lian, “Were you just thinking about him again?”

Xie Lian clenched his teeth, and it was a long while before he could manage to say, “What…? Could I ever…not…think about him?”

“Stop it,” Mu Qing said. “Your fits are getting worse. The more you think about him, the more you suffer. Let me pour you a cup of water.”

Xie Lian didn’t even have the energy to shake his head and tell Mu Qing not to bother. When Mu Qing left, he closed his eyes and tried to recover a calm state of mind. However, the calmer he tried to be, the more worried he became. He had no idea what sort of evil thing had seized him, and neither he nor Hua Cheng had noticed anything wrong. He was afraid that Hua Cheng had gone out to search, alone and completely blind.

Mu Qing brought the teapot over. It was an exquisite snow-white piece that made Xie Lian recall how Hua Cheng had used it the night before. His face again went white, and he lay there, flat and unspeaking. At the sight of him, Mu Qing knew that his mind had flown off again.

Wearing a dark expression, he scolded, “Why does every little thing make you think of him? Do you want to die?!”

“It’s not like I can control it,” Xie Lian complained.

If one really could stop thinking about a person simply by declaring they would, then most of the mortal world’s trouble and suffering wouldn’t exist.

“Might as well knock him out, the way I see it,” Mu Qing said. “Save him from his own wandering mind.”

But as Xie Lian’s former servant, Feng Xin would never hit Xie Lian—and he would never allow anyone to hit Xie Lian in front of him either.

“No!” Feng Xin refused immediately. “I think you should talk to him more; distract him. That way, he won’t keep thinking about Crimson Rain Sought Flower.”

“What can I even say?” Mu Qing retorted. “He thinks of Crimson Rain Sought Flower regardless of whatever the actual topic might be. Knocking him out is the most straightforward option!”

“Well, you can’t hit him!” Feng Xin exclaimed. “How about this? He can’t possibly have the mind to think about anything else if we train idioms, right? I guarantee he won’t have the time. I’ll go first. Live as long as Nan Mountain!”

He absolutely hated this game and gritted his teeth as he started it with enormous effort. Mu Qing hated the game even more, but still he continued with the utmost reluctance, “…Mountain poor and water evil.”

Xie Lian had no other choice, so he weakly continued, “…Evil purple overtakes vermilion—” But before he could finish, he huddled into himself again.

Mu Qing was incredulous. “How did you manage to think of him because of that? There’s no thread of connection whatsoever!”

How is there no thread? Xie Lian thought. Vermilion, vermilion red, vermilion robes—red robes. How could he not think of Hua Cheng when he thought of red robes?

He couldn’t take the torment anymore. With fierce effort, he wrestled free of the two holding him down and rolled off the bed with a thud. Feng Xin and Mu Qing both knew how powerfully his strength could explode in an instant and had secretly conserved their own strength just in case, but they still couldn’t suppress him. They rushed to stop him when he struggled free but were both smacked to the ground.

Mu Qing raised his head, only to see Xie Lian run out the door. “Where are you going? Don’t run off!”

But Xie Lian was almost at his limit. He fished two exquisite dice from his sleeves and rolled them, stumbling as he threw himself at a door.

Hua Cheng had said that if Xie Lian wanted to see him, he would be able to, no matter what number he rolled. Xie Lian didn’t know where the dice had taken him, but his door pounce and subsequent stumble sent him falling into someone’s chest.

“Your Highness!” came Hua Cheng’s dumbfounded voice from just above his head.

Xie Lian flung his arms around him frantically, afraid that Hua Cheng would disappear again. “San Lang! Don’t go alone. We…together…”

Hua Cheng wanted to embrace him then and there, but his arms froze in midair and he forced himself to hold back.

“Your Highness, hurry back home,” Hua Cheng chided, his voice grave. “You’ll be in a lot of pain if you don’t.”

Crimson Rain Sought Flower, the Supreme Ghost King, feared by all denizens of the Three Realms, was at a loss for what to do in the face of Xie Lian’s condition. He couldn’t hold him, nor could he refuse to. An embrace caused pain, but pushing him away caused greater agony.

Xie Lian gritted his teeth and hugged him tighter. “Then so be it!” he cried with a trembling voice.

“Your Highness!” exclaimed Hua Cheng.

Xie Lian would rather die of pain while holding Hua Cheng close than die of pain while thinking of Hua Cheng all alone. The more it hurt, the harder he hugged.

Face covered with fine beads of sweat, Xie Lian said in a staggered, broken voice, “Wait for a moment, just a moment, I’ll be all right in a minute. I’ll get used to this in a minute. I’m very good at bearing pain. If you’re by my side, I can stand it. If you’re gone, then it’ll…hurt unbearably…”

Hua Cheng stilled when he heard this, completely shocked. It was a minute before he said in a low voice, “Oh, Your Highness…”

His voice came out like a sigh, an agonized hiss—as if he was being tormented even worse than Xie Lian.

Xie Lian held him hard, waiting for the wave of pain to pass. While he tried to calm his breathing, he suddenly heard a voice from behind.

“Did you forge that by smelting your mask?”

Amid his dizziness and blurred vision, Xie Lian finally noticed that they were in a gloomy, desolate graveyard. It was a site known as the State Preceptor’s Tomb, one that he had just visited days before. There was someone else here, standing behind them: a tall, strapping young man. It was Lang Qianqiu.

Xie Lian was already delirious when he made it here, so naturally he didn’t notice the third person present. Now that he had, he didn’t have the presence of mind to feel embarrassed.

Just then, Feng Xin and Mu Qing caught up with him. After getting smacked to the ground so hard he’d been unable to rise, Mu Qing was so furious that the veins bulging on his forehead might never disappear again.

“Why did you run off?!” he barked. “Two people and four hands can’t even keep you down! And what the hell is this place? It looks like a graveyard or something!”

Feng Xin surveyed the area. “I think this is a graveyard. And one that’s been dug up too. Is this the tomb of State Preceptor Fangxin? Why is His Highness Tai Hua here?”

“I heard there was suspicious activity at the State Preceptor’s Tomb the day before yesterday, like a graverobber had visited,” Lang Qianqiu replied in an ill temper. “I came to take a look.”

And he wound up bumping into Hua Cheng and Xie Lian in the process. Something was on his mind, and he wasn’t in the mood to offer pleasantries or give explanations.

“Did you forge that longevity lock using your silver mask?” he asked again, staring at Xie Lian. “Did you come back here the day before yesterday to take it?”

Xie Lian hesitated for a moment, then nodded.

When he took the position of state preceptor in the Kingdom of Yong’an, he wore a silver mask year-round. The mask was made of a rare type of metal—it was forged from half a catty6 of silver yao. Aside from hiding one’s face, its much more extraordinary use was its ability to reflect magic and shield the wearer’s body and life. After State Preceptor Fangxin “died,” the mask was placed inside the same coffin as a burial effect.

A present must be something that the giver cherishes. After racking his brain, Xie Lian finally remembered that he had once possessed that unique treasure. It was incredibly useful and had helped him on multiple occasions; the mask was something he had hated to part with, as he hadn’t managed to bring it with him when he dug himself out of the coffin. Thus, he traveled through the night to the tomb of State Preceptor Fangxin, dug up his own grave, and unearthed the mask. He then melted it into liquid silver and reforged it as a longevity lock.

Everyone was wearing odd expressions. No one had ever visited the tomb of State Preceptor Fangxin to pay their respects—Xie Lian didn’t even bother to sweep his own grave when he came back, and the weeds had grown over a meter tall. He’d even desecrated it by digging it up… There was honestly no one else who could’ve done something like this!

The awkward silence lasted for a moment. When he saw Lang Qianqiu’s strange expression, Xie Lian finally spoke up and explained.

“That mask wasn’t taken from your family. It was refined from a silver yao that I once subdued…”

Had it been something that belonged to the royal clan of Yong’an, he never would have considered making Hua Cheng’s birthday present out of it. He also hadn’t known that Lang Qianqiu was still keeping an eye on the State Preceptor’s Tomb—he’d been under the impression that Lang Qianqiu had stopped caring after he buried him. Otherwise, he would’ve at least refilled the burial plot to keep Lang Qianqiu from being alerted and coming to check.

Lang Qianqiu was taken aback, then immediately got angry. “I wasn’t going to fuss about that!”

Hua Cheng shot him a chilling glare, and Lang Qianqiu’s expression hardened. Xie Lian, meanwhile, frowned as he looked at the silver lock, like something had occurred to him. His eyes met Lang Qianqiu’s, and he discovered that they had likely come to a similar conclusion.

Hua Cheng, of course, would not have missed this exchange. “Is there a problem with the longevity lock?” he asked. “Your Highness, have you figured it out?”

Xie Lian did have some idea what had happened, but he didn’t know how to say it. With a grim face, Lang Qianqiu spoke for him.

“The problem is him,” he said.

“What do you mean?” Hua Cheng demanded coldly.

“Qianqiu!” Xie Lian quickly cried.

Lang Qianqiu glanced at him but continued nonetheless. “After the Gilded Banquet, I was the one who brought him here.”

“Don’t say any more,” Xie Lian said.

Lang Qianqiu glanced at him again and shut up. He probably didn’t know how to explain what came afterward, but even though he didn’t continue, the others could piece it together themselves.

After the Gilded Banquet incident, the Crown Prince of Yong’an, Lang Qianqiu, seized State Preceptor Fangxin. In an act of revenge, Lang Qianqiu drove a thick wooden nail into his heart, sealed him in a coffin, and then buried the coffin in the wilderness and forbade anyone from mourning or paying their respects—not that anyone would’ve in the first place.

Xie Lian’s heart was pierced by the peachwood nail, and the blood that flowed from the wound dyed the silver mask in the coffin red. Thanks to its unique properties, the silver yao’s lingering qi absorbed the blood and maintained its vitality even after it left Xie Lian’s body.

When Xie Lian returned two days ago and dug up his own grave to retrieve the mask made from the silver yao and forge the longevity lock, he had roused the remnant blood on the mask, which took the opportunity to reenter his body.

No wonder they could find nothing amiss even when Xie Lian and Hua Cheng both examined his body repeatedly. It was because the thing causing the problem originated from him—his own blood! Of course there was nothing amiss about that.

Hua Cheng made to move, and although Xie Lian couldn’t see his face, he quickly held him back.

“San Lang!” he cried.

Lang Qianqiu had killed him for revenge, and Yong’an’s old king had certainly died at Xie Lian’s hand. Nailing Xie Lian into the coffin was an eye for an eye. As another wave of excruciating pain washed over him, Xie Lian gasped a few more times and groaned aloud despite himself.

Desperate concern blazed in Hua Cheng’s expression once more. “Your Highness?”

Lang Qianqiu hesitated briefly at the sight of Xie Lian’s face, which was as white as a sheet. “Do you…need my help?”

Xie Lian knew what Lang Qianqiu was like and what he might think. “No, it’s fine, Qianqiu, there’s no need,” he replied quickly. “This has nothing to do with you; it’s not your problem. I’m the one who wasn’t careful. You can leave it be.”

Mu Qing could see that Lang Qianqiu was in a very awkward position, being both a victim and a murderer. “That’s right, Your Highness Tai Hua. You can leave him to it. Go back.”

After a brief silence, Lang Qianqiu replied, “All right.”

Despite his answer, he still didn’t leave. The group didn’t have time for him, though, because Xie Lian was writhing in pain again—yet even so, he held on to Hua Cheng with a death grip and refused to let go.

“Let’s resolve this first!” Feng Xin cried. “Your Highness? What’s wrong?!”

Xie Lian was still thrashing, but he suddenly calmed when a crisp cracking noise rang out. Head drenched in cold sweat, he lay still and silent in Hua Cheng’s arms.

Hua Cheng returned his unyielding embrace in equal measure. “It’s done, Your Highness,” he said softly. “It doesn’t hurt anymore, right?”

It was only then that the group realized Hua Cheng was holding a handful of shimmering silver powder. As for the longevity lock that he had kept so precious and close to his heart—it was gone.

With the longevity lock destroyed, the wisp of blood in Xie Lian’s heart that had been tainted by the yao’s qi would slowly calm on its own. Thus, Hua Cheng had gripped his gift in his fist and shattered it with a light squeeze.

Xie Lian’s breathing slowed and calmed. As he turned his head, he saw the silver scattering and flowing from Hua Cheng’s fingertips, then his eyes met Hua Cheng’s. For some reason, he felt another tiny wave of heartache.

“Mmm…it doesn’t hurt anymore,” he mumbled.

***

With the curse broken at last, Xie Lian bade farewell to Feng Xin, Mu Qing, and Lang Qianqiu, then he slowly headed back toward Ghost City with Hua Cheng.

They walked side by side, and Xie Lian’s face stayed hot the entire way—which was Feng Xin and Mu Qing’s fault.

Before the group had gone their separate ways, Feng Xin couldn’t resist asking as he wiped away his sweat, “So why did His Highness react like that at the sight of Crimson Rain Sought Flower? What was with that blood in his heart? Did it want to mess with him on purpose?”

Xie Lian already understood what had happened, and when he heard the question, he quickly replied, “Let’s not look deeper into it!”

“Why not?” Feng Xin asked, confused. “What if it happens again? We need to get to the bottom of this, right?”

Mu Qing humphed. “You can’t even figure that out? That blood was outside of his system for too many years; it needed to reacclimate after returning. Since it didn’t have the chance to, of course it caused a stir. If his heart had been calm like still water, his mind as rippleless as an ancient well, it wouldn’t have mattered. But…”

But with a restless heart, a single stirring thought would cause the blood to roil relentlessly. He would thus be stricken with unbearable agony and endlessly relive the pain of the peachwood nail piercing his heart.

When all had been revealed, Xie Lian didn’t dare look at Hua Cheng. He was quite certain that he’d lost every ounce of dignity to his name, now and forever going forward—didn’t this mean he’d been rolling around in agony because every glance at Hua Cheng, every thought of him, made Xie Lian’s heart go wild?! Even as he considered that, it started racing once again.

Thankfully, it wouldn’t hurt anymore, no matter how fast it raced.

Hua Cheng, who had been silent for a long time, spoke abruptly. “Your Highness.”

“Yes?” Xie Lian answered immediately.

“How long did you stay in that coffin?” Hua Cheng asked.

Xie Lian blinked at the question. “I don’t remember.”

He just knew it had been a long, long time, so long that he didn’t want to count the years. There was pain, blood loss, hunger, hallucinations… At first, he didn’t even try to move a muscle, but later, he felt regret despite himself and pounded wildly at the coffin lid, desperate to break out. In the end, he allowed himself to sink into the boundless darkness once more.

It wasn’t the same kind of pain he experienced when he suffered a hundred stabs from a sword, a pain that made him sure he was doomed to eternal hell. Instead, it was a dull throb that went on and on without end.

He let out a sigh.

“What is it, Your Highness?” Hua Cheng immediately asked. “Does it still hurt?”

Xie Lian shook his head. A moment later, he mumbled, “Sorry, San Lang.”

Hua Cheng was puzzled. “Why are you apologizing to me?”

After some hesitation, Xie Lian said, “Today is your birthday. I wanted to make it a good day for you, but instead we spent the whole time stressed and trying to break that curse.”

He’d planned on bearing the pain at least until Hua Cheng’s birthday was over, but he hadn’t been able to hang on.

“Even the present I gave you had to be destroyed,” Xie Lian said.

And it was Hua Cheng himself who crushed it, no less. From beginning to end, today was a horrible ordeal. Xie Lian was extremely depressed, and it was hard to imagine how Hua Cheng must feel.

Hua Cheng stopped walking. “Your Highness,” he said, his voice gentle, “you’ve already given me a present today.”

Xie Lian blinked. “What?”

Please don’t say “you’re the best present” or something, Xie Lian thought. That’d only mortify him more.

Hua Cheng gazed at him and smiled. “Your Highness, you said that you wanted to see me even if it hurt you. That you didn’t want to part, even when it caused you so much pain.”

“…”

“That made me really happy,” Hua Cheng finished, his voice low.

Recalling what a tragic sight he’d been when he said that to Hua Cheng, Xie Lian cleared his throat softly and covered his face, desperately trying to act natural. However, Hua Cheng suddenly pulled him into his firm embrace. Startled, Xie Lian allowed himself to be pressed against his faintly beating chest.

He heard Hua Cheng say in an even lower voice, “It’s true—I’m really happy.”

“…”

Me too, Xie Lian thought. I’m really happy too.

Over the endless centuries, no matter how painful it got, Hua Cheng had never even considered giving up on him.

It was Xie Lian, who had discovered that fact, who was truly the happiest.

They embraced each other tightly.

“That being said, as happy as I am, I never want you have to bear that sort of pain ever again,” said Hua Cheng.

***

The two of them returned to Ghost City. The ghosts had been worried all day, so at the sight of the couple’s safe return, they immediately turned their riotous chaos into boisterous celebration. As usual, Hua Cheng couldn’t be bothered to comment; he just entered Thousand Lights Temple alongside Xie Lian.

As soon as they went inside, they discovered a whole host of new items had been added to the temple’s horde.

“Who put these here?” Hua Cheng demanded.

Xie Lian picked up the items one by one. “They seem to be gift boxes? This one is from Lord Rain Master, I think. Such fresh vegetables… This one is from Qingxuan, it seems? All right, this one must be from General Pei…”

He counted the presents, growing ever more delighted as he went.

“San Lang! Congratulations. These are everyone’s birthday gifts to the Lord Ghost King,” Xie Lian said with a happy smile.

He had spent the past days like a man possessed, asking everyone he could find what he should give someone for a birthday present. Although he hadn’t specified the recipient, there probably wasn’t a single person who couldn’t guess.

Hua Cheng, however, had no interest in the gifts whatsoever.

“Stop looking at them, gege,” he said. “I’ll throw them all out later. They take up space.”

He looked as though he was seriously going to call for someone to chuck the presents, so Xie Lian hurriedly said, “Let’s not do that. At the very least, these represent everyone’s well-wishes… Wait, why is this here? Who gave you this?!”

The love potion and child-bearing pill were mixed in with the serious gifts. Shocked, he tossed them both aside like a hot potato, not knowing whether to laugh or cry. Hua Cheng seemed rather interested, however, and was ready to grab them and take a peek.

“Hmm? What’s this?”

Xie Lian quickly stopped him. “Nothing good! Don’t look!”

***

After much internal conflict, Xie Lian gave Hua Cheng the belt he had personally made at the very beginning as a replacement for the longevity lock.

When Hua Cheng saw it, he laughed so hard he almost couldn’t breathe—though ghosts didn’t need to breathe in the first place. In any case, he wrapped his arms around Xie Lian and kissed him for a long while, complimenting him nonstop—he laid it on so thick that Xie Lian was embarrassed enough to lie flat on the bed and pretend to be dead.

And Xie Lian wanted to pretend to be dead even more when, the next morning, Hua Cheng actually put the thing on—and he was fully prepared to head out wearing it, acting like all was normal. Xie Lian nearly fainted when he saw and rolled off the bed at once to tackle the ghost king. He begged and pleaded for a long time before Hua Cheng very reluctantly agreed to wear it reversed, hiding the side showing the embroidered pattern. That was how Xie Lian narrowly escaped having his handiwork publicly shamed.

As for the consequences of that fateful day… Hua Cheng had caused such a great uproar about Xie Lian’s condition that everyone from the Heavens above to the Earth below knew that Xie Lian had fainted on the ghost king’s birthday. And once the full story got out, everyone from the Heavens above to the Earth below learned that Xie Lian was truly head over heels—he was absolutely, totally in love with Crimson Rain Sought Flower.

But that was a story for another time!

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