Thread by @coccinoir

🌸 Three times! Cause I waited my whole life 🌸

- narrative vers. of hualian's third meeting in the coffee shop.
- part of my one message received au which you can find here archiveofourown.org/works/37726912
- a threadfic; (i will clean this up later and upload it on ao3)

#hualian #tgcf

(note! english isn't my first language so there'll be grammatical errors, sorry bout that!)

In all tales, there's always that one scene that changes the course of the story. The one so unexpected, so impossible, that others think of it as fate.

One– a chance of fate.

The first meeting of the two fated souls goes like this.

Once, there was a child who was born in misery, unloved by everyone around him- the child's life was miserable.

There's seemingly no end to his pain.

On the other hand, there was a prince, who was born under the sign of the ominous star. He was loved by everyone he meets.

The prince was blessed by the gods above, so adored by everyone, he grew up with kindness and love.

He never wants for things to change.

Two souls with very different lives, they could've lived their lives never meeting one another but fate had other plans for them.

The child was sick of his life. Everyday there's pain, everyday he's reminded of why he should've never been born, everyday he hopes for something- someone to help him escape it all.

And so, on the day of Shangyuan, the child decided he had enough.

He was done with this life.

And if he's going to end it all, might as well bring the whole kingdom down with him.

A child of bad luck? He'll show them bad luck. He'll damn the kingdom and its people. Damn the royal family who only thinks for themselves.

Today was never an auspicious day.

So he climbs the tallest tower he could find on the street. While the people around him celebrated, he's a man with a mission.

As he passes by, he sees the people screaming joyously on the streets, sees the women throwing flowers on higher grounds-

-sees children like him, running around waving flags without a care in the world, but unlike him, they're happy with their lives.

Why is he different? why isn't he loved?

Questions like this plague his mind every single moment of his life.

But today will be different.

Today, he'll give this world its due.

Damn them all to hell, he doesn't care any longer.

While these thoughts were running on his mind, he didn't notice the crowds on the streets getting agitated, didn't notice how everyone grew apprehensive.

Until, a roaring cheer thunders amongst the people around him and the child's attention flew to the image in front of him.

At first he doesn't see anything out of the ordinary.

Petals scatters through the wind, banners flying everywhere & the people's deafening cheer.

He sees swirling white robes passing through the winds– layers upon layers of robes forms a giant flower, and then he sees /him./

"Crown Prince!!"

"Crown Prince!!!"

"Slay the ghost, Crown Prince!!!"

A golden mask hides his face but it doesn't diminish his image, instead it adds to his allure. With graciousness, the Martial Warrior flicks his hands and blocks the attack of the person playing the ghost

The child felt his breath catch at the sight.

Swords clashed once more, carrying more strength and gaining speed this time. As if the 'ghost' was getting more aggressive but the Martial Warrior appears indifferent with the assertive display of power.

The child leans on the edge of the tower, eyes mesmerized, following the duo.

With a slash of his sword, the Martial Warrior parried the ghost's strike. The force of it was so strong a blinding white light was seen when the swords clashed with a loud clang.

The crowd cheered when the light disappeared and the sight of the 'ghost' on his knees, greeted them. The ghost's weapon was gone, half buried on a tower's pillar.

And the Martial Warrior stood tall, taking elegant steps towards him.

As he went the crowd grew more rowdier.

Loud cheers are heard thundering around the area, & everyone watching at the tower was so eager to see the 'ghost' die at the hands of the Martial Warrior, they started pushing one another to get a more better view.

They didn't notice a child getting pushed towards the edge.

They didn't notice the child looking mesmerized at the prince, unaware of the fate that was about to happen to him.

At first, he was content to just watch. But the child felt this strong urge to get closer. The black and white figures moving closer to their area and he wants—

A little more closer and he could imagine holding those white robes.

A little more closer and maybe he could imagine the person beneath the golden mask looking his way.

A little more–

And then the child suddenly felt himself out of balance.

No one noticed when he fell.

All the people around him were too busy caring for themselves, pushing for a better view, to see the parade more clearly , they didn't notice they pushed a child towards his death.

They only noticed when they heard the frightened scream of the child.

And then he was falling.

Falling from the tower like a comet. He tried reaching out to one of the tower's banner but his hands only grabbed open air.

No.. No! NO!!

The child felt his eyes starting to blur.

He can only see the blurry faces of the people from the tower.

He didn't want this any longer.

For the first time in his life, the child wants to live.

He wants to live– wants to see the prince again– not like this.

Not like /this./

He doesn't want to die seeing only the blue sky.

And so he screams.

A call for help.

Someone must've— should've heard him, he thinks desperately

'Someone please save me', he thinks against all odds.

This isn't the first time he desperately wished for something like this.

This isn't the first time he thinks of someone saving him from his miserable life.

But as always, the world ignored his wishes.

He closed his eyes tight, tears finally flowing and he swallows the sob in his throat.

What a waste, he thinks.

He opens his eyes again, seeing the blue sky. The petals scattering through the winds– the last sight he'll ever see.

Atleast for one moment, he felt alive.

Atleast he got to see the prince, got to feel for once the warmth and saw the vibrant colors he wanted from the world.

And he accepts his fate– and continues to fall.

When suddenly he felt soft robes enveloping his body. Shielding his sight from the world around them. He doesn't register the wind rushing through his ears, doesn't register the awe and shocked gasps of everyone.

The child sees only /him./

He sees the face of his saviour.

The golden mask was gone, he didn't know if it was blown by the wind or was removed accidentally.

Kind brown eyes turned into cresents as the crown prince smiled at him reassuringly.

For the first time in his life, he felt seen.

The crown prince didn't sneer at the sight of him.

He didn't spat out mean words.

He didn't do the usual things people do when they see him.

Instead the crown prince hugged him tight, safely cocooned in the nest of his white robes, "Don't be scared." he whispered at him.

When was the last time he was shown kindness?

The child couldn't remember.

He tightened his grip on the crown prince's robes as he began to move and fought the ghost who the child didn't notice— was already there in front of them.

The child trembled, his grip on the prince's robe tightening once more. His nerves filling with giddiness, and all the warm things he never had.

He didn't want to lose this. The first ever kindness he received. He wanted this to last forever.

He can't unknow the feeling of being safe, now that he's had a taste of it. He felt like the greedy thief people call him, when he's hungry for food and stole the food on the street stalls—

The feeling of wanting something—wishing for things he couldn't ever had.

But—

The feeling of someone caring for you, soft smiles and kind eyes—he cannot go back. He wants this.

He wants /more/ of this.

The prince must've misunderstood his trembling for fear, because he soothed him again, “Don’t worry, nothing will hurt you."

And at his words, the child felt his world fall away and give way to this man.

His saviour, the only man who ever showed him kindness without any reservations.

But really, the warmth he felt was shortlived.

Stolen moments from fate was what he had- his impossible moments falling down like small golden palaces gone too soon—

Of stolen red pearl earring clutched in his arms,

Of burning pavilions and soothing words, whispering to him "It's not you, It's not your fault."

Of an offered umbrella under a dilipidated shrine and a vow— a reason to live.

In the background of it all, war looms over them.

And the world he knows— his world, crumbled upon the face of devastation and misery.

He dies of course. A child like him, born under the star of solitude, would never grow and live a normal life.

He was born cursed, lived a cursed life and should've die in misery.

But he didn't.

He dies for his god, his prince— the only one who ever mattered in this world.

He doesn't regret the choices that led to here.

Yes, he dies, but not alone— with his fellow comrades, the few remaining remnants of the kingdom of Xianle.

They were fighting for a Kingdom already gone.

It didn't matter, he fought for him, and he will die in service of him.

His God, who carried the shackles and weight and the guilt of failing his kingdom—

And the child, who once looked up at him, who once felt the safety and kindness freely given to him by his God.

Now, he lays here dying in a battlefield filled with blood and rotten bodies.

And under the haze of his blurry eye sight, the last thing he ever saw was his hand cradling the white flower kept safely under his armor.

And he smiled, blood dripping down his mouth and whispered the vow given by his God.

He died having fulfilled his vow, living for his God.

Two— I choose the path I walk

The once cursed child grew up as a teen barely living his life and died before he reached 18. He died with his God's name and vow upon his lips.

Though he died satisfied with what he's done—

He still wished he could've had more.

More time, more chances to prove himself to his God, more power so his prince didn't have to lower himself on those scumbags and their pretentious righteousness.

He wants more and more and for once the world and fate looked at his soul and saw that he's not yet done.

He still persists because his God is still in this world

He still lingers because who'll protect his Prince if not him?

He stays. Because unlike the 'friends' his Crown Prince has (had) he wouldn't leave him. Ever. No matter how narrow the path may be.

He would not leave him.

So he opens his 'eyes' once again and the world comes into view.

He sees that the world has changed once again.

The glorious kingdom of Xianle has fallen. Upon it's ashes its the kingdom of Yong An has risen.

No one knows if the Royal Family of Xianle still lives.

They meet again, completely by chance.

The ghost fire— a weak useless ball of energy who couldn't fight for himself. He was put into inside a lantern and was sold by a human on the streets.

Really useless, how can he protect the prince if he didn't have a proper form.

But who is he if he doesn't go where his beloved is?

His love and devotion for his God is the only thing tying him to this world.

Love is what made him. Devotion made him stay

His very core sings for his God. His life— his purpose is for His God— his only reason for living.

So when his God asks him why he doesn't want to go. Why he persists— why he stayed.

He tells him the truth.

"I have a beloved who is still in this world. "

And his Prince went silent at that. Does he doubt his sincerity?

No matter. He'll prove it to him. Again and again.

"But, you no longer belong to this world.”

He's nothing if not stubborn, and so he replies. “What of it?”

His God, kind and still looking at him with warm eyes— answers back talking slowly, enunciating the words as if it doing so would make him listen and change his mind.

“If you remain forcibly, you won’t be able to rest in peace,”

If he still have a face, the ghost fire would've frowned. He doesn't give a damn about resting in peace.

“I pray to never rest in peace.” He said with conviction. He wouldn't want it. A world without his God?

No thank you. He refuses to leave if his God is still here, living in this world. And he knows how much his God loves the world, loves the common people— even if sometimes they don't deserve it.

That's why he's the only God that matters.

The others wouldn't give a damn.

Those pretentious people only lived for themselves, for their own sakes. And they wouldn't care if the world burned fire. Mortals are just like ants to them. Insects, just playthings for them to use.

They use their worship and prayers— fueling their very core and powers.

They think only for their own gain, scoring those who they think are lesser than them.

And he was proven right. When he watched as those "Gods" scorned and ganged up his Prince. He watched as his former friend side with those Gods.

He watched, with his feeble /useless/ form— the desperation and heartbreak of his God.

When the Crown Prince was at the height of his popularity, those bastards vied for his attention and now that he's brought down low they scorned him, mocked him—

How fucking revolting.

The ghost fire watched, memorising their faces. Each and every single one of those so called Gods, he commited their faces to his memory, their words— fueled his anger, fueled his purpose.

And he swears,when he no longer have this form of his—

They'll see. He'll make them see.

Despite how small and useless his form is, the ghost fire still tried his hardest to help the Crown Prince however way he can.

In a grave ditch, him watching the crying Prince— he tried hovering here and there offering a comforting warmth. But ghost fires are never warm.

He didn't know if the Crown Prince heard him. But he still said it, he needed him to know— that he's still here, someone is still by his side- that he still believes in him.

“God, please wait for me, just wait for me…please give me a little more time…let me…let me…”

'Let me.' He thinks as he watches the Prince cry to himself cold and alone in a graveyard.

'Let me.' He thinks as he tries to block his Prince from walking into a trap.

'Please let it be me instead' He screams as he watches helplessly how his Prince got stabbed-

-with his very own sword.

He screams as the Prince's form dropped to the floor. He screams and rages as his energy explodes and he was reborn for the third time.

He was flooded with so much pain he didn't notice that something important has been taken from his Prince.

He screams as his body is reformed, flames licked the walls— destroying everything and everyone who surrounds it.

Except the space where the Crown Prince lays.

Nothing survives, except for the Prince, him and the white ghost—

Who's now long gone from the place— having already accomplished his goal.

The next time he sees his Prince, he was on his way to become someone— someone who's been through so much pain and hurt, he wanted the world to feel the same way as him.

And wasn't that so familiar?

He was like that once—

In his mortal life, he wanted the world to burn, wanted everyone to feel the way he feels— he wanted to kill everyone and then himself.
Became the monster they've always told him to be.

And now he sees him.

His Crown Prince.

His God.

His /Beloved/.

And instead of satisfaction, he feels pain.

For him. For his Prince who went through so much— that he felt this was the only option.

He wanted that once didn't he? Wanted retribution and revenge, wanted the others to feel his misery.

But now...

He didn't feel like that any longer. He didn't want the world to burn— he only wanted to protect and serve his Prince.

The Prince who sought to help the common people. He taught him that kindness was given, because it's a choice. He chooses to be kind. In any way he can.

He's still there—he thinks as he watched the flower he offered crushed under a white boot.

He's still there, like the flower— buried under all the pain and hurt.

He's still there, begging. Just like him once- begging to be found, begging to be /seen./

And he still sees him.

For all his glories , when he was a God, when he was the Kingdom's beloved Prince.

And all his lows, even when he was crying drunk and alone, screaming in pain, in hurt, in desperation— and even now.

He sees /him./

Wu Ming sees him. Just him and not the state of him.

Even when everyone threw him stones, scorned him, cursed his name— he'll never waver in his belief.

He'll always believe in him.

Like when he was mortal— he swore he'll never forget, he'll always remember.

He lived for him, died for him, he still exists because of him.

Only him. The only one who matters, who'll ever matter.

And it was easy. Making a choice for his own path.

And when the inevitable happens, the white ghost back and taunting his Prince.

He sees once again— how the Prince chose kindness.

Even when it seemed impossible.

Because of a hat given under the rain. He understands. The hat itself doesn't mean anything, it was the meaning behind the act.

Choosing kindness, even when faced with adversary.

There'll always be someone like that.

And for him, it was the Prince.

He sees /him./

That's why it was easy. Choosing his own path just like how the Prince chose to be kind.

It was either him or the Prince.

The choice is easy.

He smiles even when thousands of resentful souls devours his whole being.

He smiles because this is him, choosing his own path.

Their first meeting as mortals was destiny.

Their second meeting as a Fallen Prince and a Ghost was his choice.

As the last of his consciousness fades, his vision blackened by the onslaught of resentful souls, he /knows/this isn't the end of their story.

He won't let it be.

Three— You are enough.

In another life, they would've met 800 years later, Him 'disguising' as the ghost groom. In a mountain where brides had been kidnapped, of his two officials underneath a disguise and his thrice ascended God in the middle of it all.

This wasn't that life.

Instead, in this life his God didn't ascend for the third time.

Hua Cheng— is the name he goes by now. He has many titles, The Scrouge of the Heavens, The second Ghost King after Bai Wuxiang, The revered Chengzu of Ghost City, Crimson Rain Sought Flower.

He has power now. He isn't so powerless like before, like when he was mortal— a stray child cursed as a bad luck or a ghost fire who can only watch as his beloved was trampled upon.

He has power now, the only thing missing is his God.

His God who still wanders the world, alone.

What's the use of all his power if he isn't here? It kinda feels bittersweet in a way. Having most of the things a stray child like him didn't have in their mortal life.

But he's not here.

Money, power unimaginable, luxury— all of it is meaningless if the Prince isn't here.

And then the unthinkable happens–

What was supposed to be a small investigation on the outskirts of Ghost City eventually turned to espionage in overthrowing the Heavenly Emperor who's been the cause of everything that has befallen his God and the Kingdom of Xianle.

It wasn't him who discovered it.

It was the Wind Master. Shi Qingxuan.

The Wind Master fell into grief and swore to find his beloved brother's killer.

His investigation on the truth behind the death of his brother– and he dug in too deep into finding the murderer he

unknowingly uncovered the thousands of years of deception in the heavens.

One thing led to another and a confrontation happened between the Wind Master and Jun Wu.

Jun Wu felt merciful and only banished Shi Qingxuan, but not after taking his tongue so he cannot speak–

and giving him cursed shackles.

But let it be said no one is more determined than a man in vengeance.

Shi Qingxuan didn't let things go. He turned to the one person he knew that could rival Jun Wu.

Shi Qingxuan turned to Hua Cheng for help.

The Former Wind Master was known for his dramatics so it wasn't an issue for him to cause a ruckus on the outskirts of Ghost City.

Once Hua Cheng was there. Shi Qingxuan pleaded for his help. Swearing he would do anything– /anything/ just to see his brother be avenged.

Of course, He Xuan also just happens to be there. Convincing Hua Cheng to help him find his not /friend/ after having heard of Shi Qingxuan's banishment. That Jun Wu could not be trusted and something sinister was behind this.

What a /lucky/ coincidence.

So they plan.

They needed someone unsuspecting– Ming Yi– He Xuan's other identity was out. Jun Wu was one step ahead of them. Having already convinced the Gods that he was the reason why Shi Qingxuan was banished.

They needed someone– close enough to observe Jun Wu but not to

close that it'll be suspicious if they started snooping around.

Yin Yu loathed the idea but he doesn't have a say in this.

They needed Quan Yizhen.

And the Martial God of the West is always at the beck and call of his beloved shixiong.

One word from him and Yizhen would come running.

And it turns out, Quan Yizhen is an excellent spy. Despite his ignorant aura and childishness people always lower their guards when it comes to him. Always the innocent one– he can do no wrong.

They forget that Yizhen– the Martial God of the West is a God of his right. It's not his fault that when people see him they think of him akin to a lovable dog.

And when people get too comfortable their tongues get loose.

And what do people like that loves the most?

Gossip.

His daily patterns– schedules– the more detailed the better– everything that can be used against the Heavenly Emperor.

And oh how they /talk./

When they're in front of Jun Wu they flatter him, and praise the very ground he walks upon.

But they're also human.

So it was no surprise that they also wanted to see him fall.

Like how the Water Master fell from greatness, or the Wind Master fell from popularity, or even how the once beloved darling of the heavens fell and was banished twice from the Heavens.

After all, Gods are only humans who ascended.

And so they talked. And Quan Yizhen listened,observed, and watched from afar.

He /innocently/ fanned the spark of rumors– the most nonsensical ones– let it spread among the Gods and Hua Cheng did the same at the mortal realm.

And because it was only the most nonsense of rumors, Jun Wu wouldn't even bother addressing it. He would simply turn the other way and let the spark die down.

But sparks don't die when fanned.

So when people from the Heavens and the Mortals below heard of the newest rumor

They don't let it die. They spread it even more.

'Have you heard? The Heavenly Emperor, he–'

'Oh, that's nothing compared to when he did–'

Gossip when left alone is brutal.

You don't address it? That means you're guilty.

You address it? That means you're defensive.

The battle already started.

He can't do anything about his reputation at this point.

The rumors already have gotten too deep.

There's no knowing who started it.

And Jun Wu was the last to know he was part of a game and already being played like a piece on a chess board.

Feng Xin was the first who came to Ghost City.

He barged in there– after having heard the latest rumor about Jun Wu– the one that suggests about him being suspiciously favorable of people who resembles the Crown Prince of Xianle.

He has no tact at all, Hua Cheng thinks.

But his instinct was good, Hua Cheng will begrudgingly give him that.

At first, he yelled at Hua Cheng.

Saying the usual things– about him being a menace blah blah blah. Hua Cheng didn't even bother giving him a response. He's heard it all.

And then he shouts at Hua Cheng to leave the prince out with his petty games against the Heavenly Emperor.

At that Hua Cheng glared at Feng Xin.

Coming from him?

Him of all people?

The one who swore to be at the Prince's side forever but left him– the unloyal piece of s–