The Ghost Of You

Chapter 2

In the eight-hundredth year of his godhood, General Xuan Zhen could only come to one conclusion: the very forces of the universe were conspiring to make his life a living nightmare.

His troubles had been foretold by the tolling of the great heavenly bell, when it fell, and nearly crushed him in the process. It didn't, of course. Mu Qing was the product of eight hundred years of perfect, yet unmarred cultivation, the martial god of the South, unmatched in his prowess with the zhanmadao, and the bell was an obnoxious, gaudy piece of metal. It had been no match for him once they entered combat. Now, it lay broken and abandoned in some forge god's palace, waiting for the proper amount of merits to be drummed up so that it might be fixed.

The bell's incessant tolling, and pathetic attempt on his life had been an ill omen. One that had heralded that Xie Lian was back, for the first time since his banishment.

Mu Qing had been late to hear the news, too preoccupied with being nearly crushed. His deputies had been tight lipped, and secretive, each one knowing that whatever reaction he did have wouldn't be good.

He hadn't believed them, when they had told him. He hadn't fully believed them until he'd seen him for himself.

Xie Lian looked nothing like the infamous god-pleasing crown prince. Time had weathered him, like the metal of a sword used too often. The bamboo hat made him look more like a farmer than anything else. And yet, he was still Xie Lian, even if he was a world weary Xie Lian, and Mu Qing would've known him in an instant.

Xie Lian, on the other hand, hadn't recognized him at all.

The realization had crushed him more than the bell ever could have, and it had made him angry. Thinking about Xianle often did. He'd channeled the anger in his training, and disappeared into the depths of his palace for hours, until every training construct was destroyed, and his hands were bloody around the hilt of his saber. It would've been better to spar with a partner, but that was a luxury that even he could not afford.

He'd wandered back to his private quarters, still carrying the half burnt-out flame of hatred. It had disturbed him to find that he'd been crying.

After he'd spent a suitable amount of time brooding in his palace, Mu Qing had bitterly concluded that this was the best outcome. If Xie Lian had come back, smiling, and friendly, and acting like they'd both just walked out of Xianle, he would have thrown himself out of Heaven, to languish in the mortal realm. Or hit him.

At the very least, he had the decency to not pretend he didn't hate Mu Qing.

***

Morning came with the news that Xie Lian had been assigned a mission in the mortal realm. That was fair enough. Mu Qing had no plans of forgiving his debt.

It was not news that he spent long reveling in. Sleep had dampened his fire, and night had given him time to plan. Xie Lian could hate him all he wanted. At the very least being hated by His Highness was safer than being loved.

Somewhere, deep within his memories, Xie Lian had answers. The answers may have been interred, and buried deep down where no one ought to look, but they were there, and no one could stop Mu Qing from digging them up. If the cruelty of fate had left him as the only living person in all three realms who could tell him what he wanted to know, then Mu Qing was intent on dragging the knowledge out of him.

He rose from his bed like a ghost from his grave. All of the blood and dirt from the night prior was gone now, and he was once again beautiful. Moving much quicker now, he grabbed a mirror, and set himself to work.