Xie Lian had never been hungover before, but between his pounding head and severely aching body, he began to wonder if this is what it felt like. His memories were still vague but he recalled something of being tortured, and then San Lang had come and rescued him. And then the bath. He sighed as he recalled the gentle way he had cleaned what seemed like an endless amount of wounds on his body.
"Oh, and don't give him spiritual energy, San Lang," someone said quietly outside the door. "His body can't absorb it right now."
"If you think I'm an idiot you can keep giving me advice. I saw firsthand what happened as well as you did," his husband replied bitterly.
Spiritual energy? Most of what he had right now was going towards closing his wounds, but it would take awhile. It actually would help some though - just a little boost of it could enhance the healing so he could return to normal sooner. As he slowly sits up in bed the emptiness in his stomach nearly makes him keel back over. How long had it been since he had eaten? He clutches his aching stomach and feels several ribs sticking out against his swollen flesh. At least now he could sit up on his own - but the weakness in his legs still made itself known to him.
Still - just laying here in bed was not the option. Who knew how long he had been laying here already? And the sheets would need to be changed again from the blood that had soaked through his bandages since last night.
This time, he carefully puts one leg, then the other onto the floor before using the nightstand to brace himself into standing. The feeling reminds him of when he had walked on a broken leg trying to chase after whiteface, and he groaned softly. If San Lang heard him he would never regain his freedom. But, the thought wasn't necessarily an unpleasant one.
Of course, his timing impeccable, his husband then enters the room and rushes over.
"Wait!" Xie Lian cries out. However, before he can blink he finds himself lifted back up, having only taken two steps. "San Lang, please put me down. I can walk now - see? I wasn't on the floor this time."
"Just tell this humble servant what Gege needs and I shall retrieve it for him," his husband replies. "You need to rest."
"I've rested plenty! Even more than when the Heavenly Capital is keeping me busy. So please, put me down." San lang goes to argue, and Xie Lian puts a finger on his lips. "I think I need to stretch my legs."
"Your legs are still fractured, Gege. I -"
"Just let the prince walk already!" a voice interrupts. "He told you what he wants. It wouldn't kill him."
The glare that shot from San Lang having this moment interrupted could have killed. If he wasn't mistaken, that voice was Feng Xin. Things must have been looking pretty desperate if he had invited him into paradise manor. Realizing his former servant must have also seen the state he was in, now being carried by San Lang his face turns beet red. How embarrassing!
"Did I give you permission to enter this room, much less this conversation?" the Ghost King seethed.
"Now . . . now San Lang," Xie Lian stuttered. "How about . . . how about we compromise and you help me walk!"
The glare that pierced Feng Xin into silence now turned to him with nothing but love, as if nothing had even happened.
"If that is what my prince desires," he says. "Now where would you like to go?" He puts him down gently and Xie Lian bites back a grimace. Where would he like to go? His mind moves slowly, processing the pain. He was hungry, and thirsty, but also he wanted another bath. And maybe to look through the medicine cabinet while he was at it. He also needed to check if he had missed anything from the heavenly capital, or his worshipers.
"I think . . ."
"Looks like a bath would be in order," Feng Xin interrupts again. Before San Lang can react, Xie Lian speaks up.
"Yes! That sounds right. A bath." It looks like he would be playing peacemaker between the two of them until he figured out why Feng Xin was here. On a normal day it was exhausting to keep them from trying to kill each other. San Lang generally held back if he noticed Xie Lian was getting particularly irritated with the arguing. Feng Xin wasn't quite as polite.
They slowly walk to the bathroom, and into the steaming water. It burned a bit but he wouldn't have it any other way. He doesn't bother to remove his robes, wanting to let the water soak in first to make it easier to remove.
He sunk further into the water. He had to bear the pain - they had to redress these wounds before he could even think about eating. He was surprised how quiet it was. San Lang didn't say a word.
"Um…so I guess, you know with Feng Xin here," Xie Lian said awkwardly, "we won't be getting much quiet." He didn't know what to say. Too much had happened and his mind was still foggy. But he felt like it had been a long time since he spoke with anyone, and he thought San Lang was too considerate to begin a conversation while he sat there grimacing.
"I can arrange for some quiet," San Lang replies dryly.
He wanted to get down to the bottom of why his former servant was here. Had things gotten worse than what he had thought? He had been wounded before in battle and slowly healed even without these luxuries.
"No, it's fine. Really."
"I was thinking I could send him downstairs for some training, or maybe turn him into a daruma doll. In that case, we could throw him around for a bit, or perhaps -"
Send him downstairs for training? Did being chased by giant worms and having your worst fears revealed qualify as training? Especially when your worst fear was women in a bath . . .
"I don't think your horror house downstairs qualifies as training, San Lang," he replies, chuckling. The movement reminds him of his aching ribs.
"Then what does Xie Lian propose we do about this predicament," he playfully inquires. The ghost king moves closer and places a kiss on Xie Lians head, moving down towards his neck. As he passes by his ear, he whispers, "Can't have our peace and quiet interrupted, now can we."
He feels him gently start to tug on his clothing and shuts his eyes. He could slowly peel it off himself this time. It's not like San Lang had to do it. But those little kisses really did seem to make the pain better. . .
"Ah, San Lang," he replies quietly. "I propose -"
Searing agony lines his back as the robes start to be pulled down, every lash they had whipped into his flesh like fire. He cries out and jerks away, the water surrounding him turning red.
When he catches his breath and opens his eyes, he realizes he had gripped Hua Changs hand from the robe and accidentally pulled him in with him.
"It's okay," Xie Lian says through his teeth. "It's okay. Really. Guess it just hurt a little."
It was clear that his lover hadn't expected this turn of events. In this state, Xie Lian shouldn't have been strong enough to pull him in with him. Even Hua Chang looked a little surprised, an unusual appearance for sure.
"So what Martial Art move was that, GeGe. Please, I beg of thee, teach thy humble servant." At the last part, he bows dramatically, water dripping everywhere.
Xie Lian didn't know whether to laugh or cry. But it appeared at this point that the Ghost King had decided to laugh.
"San Lang really wants to know?" he plays along stiffly. His back still hurt, but it was slowly fading away. "All Life Consuming Blow of Demise," he made up. "It's a water specialty art San Lang wouldn't care for much. Before you learn the moves you'd have to write the names of each one and the god who created them 1,000 times to be granted success."
The once dramatically bowing Ghost King, still dripping wet looked up at the last part. It was a pretty funny scene, and if his ribs hadn't been broken up he might have keeled over laughing. He felt pressure building in his skull from holding himself back.
"What kind of cultivation allows for such blatant deceit to escape the mouth of a god," he replied.
"No it's true! How could I ever lie to my San Lang," he replied.
"You couldn't." This surprised him and he looked back at his lover, gazing at him amused. "You couldn't even tell me your communication array password without that same look in your eyes. If your ribs weren't broken up I'd have to dive in this bath to give you air because you'd drown yourself falling over laughing at your own joke."
This almost does it. But the pain in his ribs is too much even when he laughs softly. It was true. He was about as honest as they came and unlike San Lang, who could keep a straight face he hardly ever could.
"Alright San Lang. You're right, I just made that up. But it was pretty funny right? It was just like the names of those ghosts on Mount Tonglu."
San Lang was quiet, and he looked over once again. Their eyes met as he approached the prince, who was now smiling, and he pulled his face gently in his shoulder. Xie lian would have protested, if he hadn't been soaking already from being thrown into the water. It wasn't the first time he had accidently thrown him either, he thought as he remembered the time in the palace. He hadn't even known him then, the boy so desperate to follow him.
"Nobody knows my Prince like I do," he says softly. "So please take this." He pulls back from the embrace and Xie Lian sighs. A steamed bun sits in his lover's hand, somehow not wet at all despite the circumstances. He thought he may not have ever seen something so delicious in his life!
Without hesitating, he takes the bun and splits it in half. "A reward for saving me. Oh, and something else," he says quickly. "Just come a little closer."
Ignoring the pain, he quickly wraps his arm around San Langs neck and pushes his lips against the Ghost's. Like a torrent of waves, he begins to share spiritual energy, the way they had before. His body felt as if it could have exploded with the strength of his lover, and San Lang is quick to respond as he lifts Xie Lian up onto the edge of the water and allows him to push closer into him, his hands grasping his thighs which wrap around him.
His beloved was alive, and the sweetness of his lips was ravishing.
It was enough to forget the pain. But when the milk and honey of spiritual energy flowed into him, he couldn't breath.
He couldn't breathe.
A knife shoots through his chest and he jerks back, gasping for air, a hand clutching over his heart.
"Sa . . .San lang," he wheezes out, eyes bulging. Colors flash before his vision and a metallic liquid fills his throat, then his mouth. He gags and spews blood from his lips, every breath another bout of liquid fills his chest. He was drowning. He was drowning in his own blood.
Another blade rips through his heart and a horrible gurgled cry escapes throat. He wanted to call Hua Chang but he couldn't see. He couldn't feel anything except his heart beating faster and faster underneath his hand that threatened to tear it from his own chest. That wasn't right. It had been real this time; hadn't it?
And then the weakness. And then he was warm. So warm.
Why was he so weak?
His hand fell from his chest and his head rolled. Was he on the floor? He thought he still felt the warmth of his lover's lips on top of his, and coolness threatened to put out the fire in his chest as it fought to enter. If he would've had the strength he could have smiled.
That's right - this happened last time. He was dying.
Yes, he remembered now and he gave in. He figured . . . if hell was where San Lang was, he would abide there with him.