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Hua Cheng was a raging flirt.
Everyone from Heaven to Puqi Village knew the Supreme was absolutely, eternally infatuated. They knew this because Hua Cheng’s only ambition in any social interaction was to make Xie Lian’s ears turn red and for him to hiss a flustered, “San Lang!”
It was constant.
And because Hua Cheng didn’t give a damn about anyone’s opinion except Xie Lian’s, this also meant he had absolutely no shame, no limitations for his utter depravity. Sometimes his spiritual array password looked downright prudish in comparison.
This behavior was fine and dandy for Hua Cheng, sure, but for Xie Lian… he- he had a job to do! He could only rebuild Heaven so effectively when his gorgeous husband was goading him from a hair’s breadth away. And unlike Hua Cheng, Xie Lian didn’t have Yin Yu to do everything for him.
Desperate and at wits’ end, Xie Lian politely asked his husband to tone it down in public.
Naturally, Hua Cheng threw a fit.
“Do you despise this one, gege?” Hua Cheng fake-wept atop their bed where he had dramatically thrown himself moments before. “Does this one embarrass his husband? Perhaps we should spend more time apart if this foolish believer upsets his beloved so.”
Although Hua Cheng’s words were pitiful, the ghost had that telltale mischievous glint in his eye, so Xie Lian knew better than to take him seriously. He’d already made that mistake enough times. Early in their relationship, his genuine concern for his husband’s antics earned him a subsequent bout of giggles, and Xie Lian always ended up standing there sputtering in embarrassment.
He rolled his eyes and smiled softly to himself as he dressed for the day, hands delicately wrapping layer after layer of embroidered white silk across his body.
“Not even a glance!” Hua Cheng cried. “Oh, the agony my God inflicts upon me - it is simply too much to bear.”
He swallowed a giggle. “Beloved, please, I just need one week to finish this project on time.” This time, he couldn’t help his laugh as his husband threw his head back and groaned, arm thrown over his face. “San Lang!” he chided.
“What?” Hua Cheng wailed.
“Surely you enjoy an activity that doesn’t involve seducing me.”
Hua Cheng paused, arm sliding off his face. His clawed fingertips moved down to rub his chin and his nose scrunched in thought. Abruptly, he shook his head and proclaimed, “No.”
Gods, what had he got himself into?
Xie Lian sighed and sat down beside his husband on their bed. He stroked his hair and pressed a kiss to his cheek. Hua Cheng sank into his arms wordlessly.
“I love you,” he murmured. Another kiss. “One week. Then you can make love to me in the Palace for all I care.”
Hua Cheng’s eye lit up like he’d been offered the grandest prize imaginable, mouth parting slightly. “Gege,” he begged, at a loss for words.
He bit back a smirk. “San Lang,” he parroted.
His husband parsed through his options, brow crinkling the same as when Yin Yu pestered him to make a decision on a city ordinance. Then, an absolutely terrifying grin broke out on Hua Cheng’s face. Well… that was the worst omen he’d ever seen.
… Hua Cheng had thought of a loophole, hadn’t he?
“So if others do not catch this husband flirting for one week, gege will reward this San Lang?” Hua Cheng asked, eye wide and innocent.
And no, Xie Lian didn’t trust this framing for a second.
“No communication array or writing notes, either,” he attempted with a firm tone, but even he didn’t take himself seriously. “That’s cheating.”
“Of course not, gege!” Hua Cheng gasped. “This one wouldn’t dare.”
He eyed his husband, suspicion setting off alarm bells in every fiber of his being. “Alright,” Xie Lian said slowly. “Deal.”
“One hundred golden belts is completely unreasonable.” Xie Lian pinched the bridge of his nose. “We cannot afford something that extravagant for at least two decades.”
“His Majesty is correct,” an exhausted Ling Wen confirmed, her weary voice barely loud enough to be heard across the table. “We are just now starting to repay some of our debt to Hua Chengzhu.”
At the mention of Hua Cheng, the others around the table - Lang Qianqiu, Yushi Huang, and Quan Yizhen - nervously turned toward the Ghost King. The man in question didn’t even spare a glance, sat with his feet propped up on the table and eye trained on the ceiling, half-lidded and bored.
Pei Ming sighed, head perched atop his palm. He pathetically lamented, “If I do not court at least two hundred women this century, my followers will surely be in disarray!”
When Pei Ming’s handsome face attempted what Xie Lian thought was a pout, Lang Qianqiu’s lip curled in disgust.
Xie Lian cleared his throat. “I understand, General Ming Guang, but you will simply have to… um, ‘make up for lost time’… later.” He coughed, face heating up.
The Martial God of the North paused. His expression turned thoughtful and then his eyes lit up. “Ho ho, now that’s an idea-”
“Great!” Xie Lian interrupted with a squeak. “Great. Let’s move on.”
Hua Cheng leaned forward, slowly sliding his feet off the table. He folded his hands in front of him and turned toward Xie Lian. His expression was completely flat.
Xie Lian held his breath. His husband was up to something.
And then Hua Cheng, in the old tongue of Xianle, crooned: “You know, gege, I wouldn’t mind making up for lost time. In fact, I believe we have a whole eight hundred years’ worth of lovemaking built up.”
No way.
Lang Qianqiu’s brow furrowed. “Huh-? That almost sounds like Yong’an’s language,” he said, eyes distant. “But… different. I can barely understand a thing.”
Upon confirming that no one else could understand them, Hua Cheng couldn’t look more delighted. I won, his wicked grin lauded.
Xie Lian stared at Hua Cheng in abject horror.
This… this was even worse than Hua Cheng flirting in modern vernacular. The Xianle dialect was… intimate, and so, so romantic. Its warm tones and rich vocabulary reached deep into his very soul. It sang to a forgotten, pivotal part of himself that’d been dreadfully silent for centuries.
Although Hua Cheng’s speech was the furthest thing from Xianle’s elegant upper-class dialect - what Xie Lian listened to most of his childhood - the Ghost King’s lower-class pigeon was somehow even more charming. It was simplistic, using common words murmured around family hearths and neighborhood shrines, and littered with slang. His vowels were rough around the edges, rumbled and soothing.
It was the sound of home, delivered by the most beautiful voice Xie Lian had ever heard.
“W-What are you doing, San Lang?” he asked, vocal chords straining, struggling to replicate his long-abandoned native tongue.
“Abiding by our deal, my love.” Hua Cheng shrugged, gesturing between them casually.
Hearing the sweet lilt of ‘my love’ in their language made Xie Lian melt into his chair. This was awful, terrible, the worst thing ever… why hadn’t they done it before?
The others at the table blinked at them in open confusion, and Xie Lian also sensed their palpable unease. Admittedly, this was unusual. It wasn’t like he and Hua Cheng had spoken Xianle-huà publicly… or ever, for that matter.
He wondered if Mu Qing or Feng Xin - suspiciously absent from this particular meeting - ever spoke the language in front of other officials. From the others’ reactions, he doubted it.
Quan Yizhen scratched his head. “Um, should I know what they’re saying?” he asked Yushi Huang.
“I don’t think so, A-Zhen,” the Rain Master gently replied. She patted the wild curly hair atop the Martial God’s head.
Her intelligent gaze turned toward Hua Cheng. “Having fun, my lord?”
Th Ghost King simply smirked in response.
“Lady Rain Master knows what you’re up to. That technically violates our agreement.”
The words came easier this time. He found himself easily falling back upon his vocal training. He’d spent countless hours reciting sutras with Guoshi, forced to repeat them until he attained the clearest possible intonation. Back then, he considered it borderline torture. Now, he suspected it was the only reason he remembered his ancestors’ language.
Hua Cheng twirled the coral bead in his braid and looked up at Xie Lian with a slow, seductive blink. “You know your wish is my command, husband. Just say the word and I will stop.”
Fuming, Xie Lian’s hands clenched his robes beneath the table. Hua Cheng knew how attractive this was. He clenched his teeth, frustrated, but entirely helpless against the chills dancing up his arms, the warmth pooling in his gut. “I didn’t say that,” he grumbled.
E-Ming trembled with uninhibited glee, so much so that the cursed scimitar nearly jumped out of its sheath. Xie Lian suppressed a fond smile. Both parts of his husband were being so naughty.
Xie Lian cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck as the meeting’s participants turned toward him. “Ahem. Is our business concluded for today, Ling Wen?”
The Civil Official jolted awake. Her drowsy eyes widened a fraction, but she quickly regained her composure. Graceful, even when caught sleeping on the job. “Yes, Your Majesty,” she confirmed. She shuffled the papers on the table into a neat pile. “I will submit these for processing immediately.”
“Thank you,” he hummed and slightly inclined his head.
As the other participants began to file out, Pei Ming nudged Hua Cheng and leaned over toward him. “Think you can teach me how to speak like that?” he loudly whispered. “I don’t usually court men, but you’ve made me reconsider.”
Hackles raising, Hua Cheng immediately sneered. Xie Lian suspected his husband’s respect for Pei Ming was the only thing sparing the Martial God a new stab wound in the chest.
Pei Ming raised his hands in surrender. “Never mind! Just thought I’d ask.” After rising to his feet and handsomely swirling his cloak over his shoulders, he still winked on the way out. “You know where to find me if you change your mind.”
The table screeched, claw-shaped marks etched in the wood where Hua Cheng’s hands were moments before. Xie Lian reminded himself to reward his husband for his impressive restraint later.
Once they were alone, the massive marble chamber completely silent except for his own breathing, Xie Lian crossed his arms. Hua Cheng smiled innocently.
“You’re unbelievable,” he murmurs, heat rising in his face. “How long have you been planning that?”
“Not long,” Hua Cheng replied, composed expression betraying his frenzied qi. “Just had to brush up.” He traced his claw marks on the table and smirked. “And make sure those two idiot servants weren’t attending.”
He gasped. “I knew it!”
“They assured me their presence wasn’t necessary,” Hua Cheng shrugged.
“Right,” he said skeptically. “Would that have stopped you even if it was?”
“Ah. No, definitely not.”
Xie Lian laughed, and that effortless joy which only burst to life around his precious husband warmed his old bones.
As Xie Lian suspected, Hua Cheng’s flirtations became significantly more obscene the longer their week-long “agreement” went on. At first, his husband avoided embarrassing him at important soirées with officials Xie Lian didn’t know very well.
However, because the week was highly stressful and chaotic, Xie Lian was consistently too exhausted to have sex by the end of each day. Though always profusely respectful of Xie Lian’s desires, or lack thereof, Hua Cheng nevertheless became noticeably restless, qi buildup turning his aura erratic and desperate.
Three days in, Xie Lian arrived home late, weary and half-awake. He subsequently walked in on his husband writhing around their bed like a wild animal, hand furiously working his neglected manhood as his fangs bit all the way through a pillow. Xie Lian did his very best to help his husband climax before he wordlessly passed out, but it was probably his saddest attempt at sex ever.
So yes, (sexual) tension was high. And Hua Cheng was seemingly determined to make it Xie Lian’s problem.
This particular gathering took place in the Gambler’s Den. Many middle-upper Heavenly Officials had organized to offer gratitude to Hua Cheng’s patronage, as was expected considering they owed him their whole careers.
Though his husband was the belle of the ball, the Ghost King obviously wanted nothing less than for it to be done with. He’d opposed the event as a concept to begin with, but when Xie Lian asked (begged) him to allow it to foster better relations between Heaven and the Ghost Realm, Hua Cheng conceded without hesitation.
Dressed in his finest crimson robes, Hua Cheng looked positively divine. His ceremonial attire was more layered than his everyday robes, featuring long sleeves embroidered with hundreds of silver butterflies. Maple leaves twisted around his collar and down to his hips, flowering into a meticulously carved silver belt in the style of Hua Cheng’s mother. A long, delicate silver earring hung from his left ear, and a smear of blackened kohl around his eye made it elegant and striking against his pale skin.
Xie Lian was doing his best not to swoon. He downed cup after cup of wine and tried his best to blame the redness in his ears and cheeks on that instead of the warmth in his loins.
Hua Cheng stood ramrod straight at the foot of the staircase, hands folded neatly behind his back. His tall form towered over almost every other official, only a few Martial Gods reaching somewhere near eye-level. The height difference was so dramatic that Xie Lian suspected his husband transformed himself taller just for this event. Most Civil Officials didn’t even approach, opting to stare at him from their seats and hide behind their cups of tea.
Although Hua Cheng looked miserable as he listened to the Martial Gods boast and brag, his expression instantly brightened when he spotted Xie Lian approaching. He waved a dismissive hand at the crowd, and the confused officials eventually stepped back with reverent murmurs of “Your Majesty” as Xie Lian came to stand beside his husband.
Xie Lian straightened and looked up into Hua Cheng’s eye. Ah, yes, he thought. He is definitely taller than usual. His husband was so silly. The small smile tugging at his lips won over.
“Enjoying the festivities, my lord?” Xie Lian asked, bowing slightly.
The other officials frowned at the sight of the Heavenly Emperor bowing to a Ghost King, but no one voiced their discontent. They knew better.
Hua Cheng kept his expression completely neutral, but Xie Lian sensed his palpable excitement at the little game suddenly placed before him.
“I am now, Your Majesty,” Hua Cheng practically purred.
The gathered crowd did their best to not squirm where they stood. He spotted one official spilling his drink on himself just to have an excuse to duck out.
“Very good,” Xie Lian hummed. “And is there anything Heaven can do to further foster amiable relations between our two peoples, Hua Chengzhu?”
“Oh, certainly,” Hua Cheng rumbled.
The Ghost King took one, two steps forward until he was a breath away from Xie Lian’s face. If Xie Lian leaned forward just slightly, they’d brush lips. His heart slammed in his chest like a hammer striking an anvil.
“Heaven could wed Your Majesty to me and allow me to ravish him for the rest of days.” He looked up from Hua Cheng’s lips to confirm that yes, his husband was definitely undressing Xie Lian with his eye. That heavy, dark haze was unmistakable.
Xie Lian cleared his throat. “I-I believe that can be arranged, my lord.”
“Splendid. I am pleased to hear it. His Majesty will find this one to be a most devoted groom.” He thought his husband winked. It was hard to tell. “And an attentive lover as well.”
“Is that so? Then I am the most devoted believer of such a promise.” The ancient adage sparked amusement in Hua Cheng’s otherwise intense gaze. “And this one hopes Hua Chengzhu is willing to demonstrate.”
His husband leaned into his ear and murmured, “Find this husband later, gege.”
Xie Lian nodded jerkily, throat bobbing. He hid his clammy hands inside his sleeves and quickly bowed before fleeing the scene, leaving a victorious Hua Cheng in his wake. He could feel Hua Cheng’s hungry gaze from behind.
Oh, this was just too much!
Hua Cheng’s behavior was going to catch up with them eventually.
Although, due to Jun Wu’s cyclical purges, their generation was essentially the oldest in Heaven’s ranks, the Xianle language was not actually lost to time. Hua Cheng had to be careful about where and when he engaged in public pillowtalk, else he risked ruining both Xie Lian’s reputation and mental sanity.
The top senior officials were gathered on the rebuilt Grand Avenue of Divine Might as Xie Lian and Ling Wen confirmed the final plans for the main corridor’s reconstruction. Everyone in the Upper Court wanted to see if their palace had everything they asked for (it definitely wouldn’t) and who they were going to be situated next to. While the city planners did their best to avoid reigniting centuries-long blood feuds by placing bitter rivals right next to each other, with all the egos in Heaven one could never be entirely certain.
There was no ribbon-cutting ceremony, no grand reopening, but there was a definite sense of jubilance as years of uncertainty came to a close.
“Thank you for your hard work and dedication, Ling Wen.” Xie Lian bowed, the extravagant robes he wasn’t yet used to wearing again pooling at his feet. “Both the Heavenly and Mortal Realms owe you an incalculable debt.”
She chuckled lightly, the dark circles under her eyes fading somewhat. “I’m certain I could figure it out.” Ling Wen rolled up the large scroll and carefully handed it off to her senior assistant. “What will you do now, Your Majesty?”
“Um, is resigning out of the question?” he asked, only half-joking.
She raised an eyebrow.
“Yeah, thought so,” Xie Lian sighed. “Then a year-long nap is in order.”
“Most wise, Your Grace.” Ling Wen bowed, and Xie Lian watched the same tension lift from her shoulders as well. “I will return to my Palace to allocate merits so we can begin.”
“En,” Xie Lian acknowledged.
A nervous voice from the crowd cut through the noise.
“H-Hua Chengzhu! What- What an unexpected surprise- I-I mean, honor!”
“Hey, is that…?”
“Hua Cheng? What’s he doing here?”
His husband weaved through the crowd gracefully, a gentle river winding through a valley. He radiated power, and heads naturally turned toward him like moths to a flame. His glossy, raven hair had not a single strand out of place. He was an empyreal phantom, Mount Tonglu’s dissonant chord plucked in every step.
A path was cleared between Hua Cheng and Xie Lian, with some officials scrambling backward much farther than required.
Though he did not bow to his husband, Xie Lian nodded at him respectfully as he came to stand in front of him. “Hua Chengzhu,” he smiled. “You honor us with your presence.”
“Yes, yes.” Hua Cheng flapped a hand, feigning apathy. “I just came to ensure Ghost City’s coffers were being used well.”
“Ah, of course, I see. Then rest assured, Hua Chengzhu, I guarantee your kind patronage will not go to waste.” Xie Lian bit his bottom lip, trying not to laugh. “Yin Yu should have received a full report.”
Hua Cheng crossed his arms and scoffed, rolling his eye dramatically. Xie Lian coughed to cover his giggle.
“And why, pray tell, should I believe this ‘guarantee’ of yours?” his husband grumbled. “The Palace of Ling Wen isn’t known for its honesty.”
“True enough, my lord,” he conceded. He paused and took a daring step forward. Hua Cheng shuddered minutely. “Can the Palace of Xianle reassure Hua Chengzhu instead? I’m certain we can come to a mutually beneficial agreement.”
“Yes. Dianxia can fuck me until my legs give out,” Hua Cheng said, and gods, the request sounded even filthier in Xie Lian’s native tongue. “I want him to pound my ass until it remembers the shape of Dianxia’s-”
“Holy shit, please stop!” Someone cried. “Gods, my ears!”
And that was- on no.
Feng Xin’s hands clutched the sides of his head, eyes as wide as saucers and mouth agape. He looked like he was moments from vomiting onto the marble road. Next to him, Mu Qing stood with his arms crossed and lip curled in absolute revulsion, his obsidian eyes screaming thousands of unspoken insults.
“O-Oh,” Xie Lian stammered. “Hello. Um, how- how long have you two been standing there?”
Mu Qing narrowed his eyes. “The entire time.”
Xie Lian cursed under his breath. When he glanced over at Hua Cheng, the ghost appeared completely unfazed. What, even this didn’t embarrass him?
“Sorry!” he blurted, hands waving frantically. “I’m so, so sor-”
He was interrupted by the familiar weight of Hua Cheng’s hand on his shoulder. The Ghost King sent him a wordless reassurance and leveled a glare at the two Martial Gods. “Scram,” he growled, “before I tell Dianxia what Yin Yu caught you two up to in my manor.”
Red flooded Feng Xin’s cheeks and the former bodyguard stepped behind his shorter counterpart, coughing into his hand. “He promised he wouldn’t tell,” Feng Xin mumbled.
“He didn’t need to.” Hua Cheng raised a brow. “Butterfly.”
“Ah. Fuck.”
Mu Qing placed his hands on his hips, looking downright murderous, but he still didn’t say a word. He clenched his jaw and exhaled harshly through his nose.
Hua Cheng wrapped his arm around Xie Lian’s hips and smiled down at him, his momentarily terrifying gaze turning unbearably soft. “Are we done here, gege?”
Xie Lian cleared his throat. “Oh. Yes.”
Then, Xie Lian pressed a kiss to his husband’s cheek, his pure adoration too intense to ignore.
The crowd quietly gasped. Oh. Right. Xie Lian had never shown this level of affection in Heaven before.
Hua Cheng openly stared at him in awe. His other hand came up to brush the cheek Xie Lian’s lips touched, reverent. The most blinding smile Xie Lian had ever seen broke out on the Ghost King’s face. “Gege,” Hua Cheng whispered.
“Come on, let’s go,” he hummed, leading his husband away from the crowd and toward the imperial palace.
Halfway there, his husband realized something was amiss. “We’re not going to Ghost City?” Hua Cheng questioned.
“No. I promised you a reward, didn’t I?”
His husband started to practically vibrate, clinging to his arm. “Gege? Gege.”
“Mn?” He arched a brow as they reached the top of the palace staircase. “I’m just honoring your request, dear husband.”
Divine might radiating from him in powerful waves, Xie Lian seized his husband by the scruff of the neck and practically threw him into the throne room. The lanky Ghost King stumbled forward and whipped his head around to face him, eye wide.
“God,” Hua Cheng stammered, hands raising. “M-My God. Mercy.”
Xie Lian grabbed his husband’s chin and pulled him down to eye-level. “I’ll give you the same mercy you gave me, beloved.” He leaned forward and whispered, “none at all.”
Oh fuck yes, Hua Cheng mouthed, instantly dropping to his knees.
And though the Ghost King didn’t blush, Xie Lian suspected this was the most flustered he’d ever been.