Xie Lian’s wandering years + happy #hualian 800 years later
//
Loneliness was something Xie Lian was used to—and at the same time, he wasn't.
At least in the beginning some heavenly officials were watching him basking, their eager, hidden eyes on him burning his skin.
He never thought he'd miss those curious gazes, but as loneliness laced his thoughts more frequently, he started to crave the slightest of interactions.
However, as the shackles sealed his luck away, his misfortune slowly started to affect the humans who showed him a sliver of kindness.
Staying at barns or such things for one night would have been enough, but more often than not, these places collapsed caught on fire, or got run over.
Xie Lian couldn't deal with the aftermath most of the time. So he packed and left, isolating himself -for other's sake.
Same logic, during his wandering, companionship was out of the question—not counting his own jinx demon of course that eventually left him, having starved for half a year because of the lack of joy he would consume.
Animals—not the venomous, biting, blood-sucking kind—were slightly better. The wetness of their nose and the softness of their fur reminded Xie Lian of human touch.
Sometimes he could stay a bit longer with some people, having meals in tea shops, being collected as a soldier, being followed by stray animals and kids, giving them the little rations he earned by taking up odd jobs.
He knew he made mistakes aplenty, their numbers like the infinite stars, each one holding memories of failure.
The solitude that guided him up the mountains and through the sand, his trail washed away by the rain.
It reminded him of descension, drought, and disease.
He remembered swirling grey clouds, a curse and a sacrifice he would never allow himself to forget.
He saw it in the red and white flowers he passed by.
He got reminded whenever blades collided on the battlefields—a glint of a black sword, royal blood spilled.
800 years lost. Lost years - Meant to be forgotten.
But he never did.
However, over time they just slowly trained them to take new forms: the quiet of dawn, the sun-painted silver lining, the smile of children, the sound of rain, or a delicious steamed bun he had yesterday.
-800 years later-
"Saaan Laangh" Xie Lian said, sleepiness made the words drag.
"Sleep a bit more. The heavenly trash should just wait for us." Hua Cheng's voice sounded next to his ears, while his fingers gently ran through his hair.
"Us?" Xie Lian asked, hiding in the crook of Hua Cheng’s neck.
"If gege doesn't mind."
"Mn. I don't mind." Xie Lian murmured, already drifting back to sleep.
He smiled softly at how whenever they went, the other always wanted to tag along.
But that's what newlyweds do, right?
800 years ago, he ventured forth aimlessly until his strength carried him. A long, lonely walk.
Now, he has a place to stay, a place to call home.
And now he has Hua Cheng to share everything with, be it the sunrise, the flowers along the way, the odd-shaped rocks on the ground, or a simple, delicious steamed bun they had yesterday.
"It's already the third round, gege is being insatiable," Hua Cheng says, but he readily accepts whatever Xie Lian wishes to do to him. "Or is it that you can't get enough?"
It's not Xie Lian who answers his teasing, but a metallic 'clang'.
Sparks fly when blade meets blade, reflecting in his dark eyes, half-lidded with concentration and something that always lurks inside him when facing Hua Cheng.
Hua Cheng strides forward with his scimitar—it's different from Eming, who tends to get either overly excited or balky with Xie Lian around, thus, it gets
banned from the armory whenever the pair indulge themselves in sparring.
Book 4, Wuming POV + bonus #hualian (#wulian) 800 years later
The stomped-over petals of the white flower were scattered across the floor. A miserable beauty thoroughly trampled—It reminded Wuming of his god.
Wuming just stared, a horrified expression hidden behind his mask as his beloved, pierced himself through with the same damned black sword that caused him so much suffering already, jumping down to land flat on the cold Lang'er Bay ground.
He admittedly hated the way His Highness resulted to do this, but he had a hunch why he's still trying so hard.
After all, he said what he said: His Highness will forever be His Highness.
Besides, Wuming understood it like no one else what it meant to feel one person enough.
🌼 Day 1 Prompt: Calamity Falls
Book 2, Xianle Days
Hong-er POV+bonus hualian 800 years later
Hong-er was there when it all began.
Rumors spread through Xianle, first among the street urchins. Words of a drought and the royal family's spending.
Hong-er didn't understand it at the time.
He just changed the simple white flower in his self-made statue's hands (it's nowhere near perfect, still ridiculous, but he's getting better.)
His soldier days were a blur. Images of His Highness haunted him:
His Highness fighting on the battlefield, graceful, dazzling, masterly wielding the blade.
Hong-er was there too, he went straight for the kill whoever tried to get close to His Highness.
🧵 Thread fic
🔞 NSFW
💓 Hualian having some bouncy-spicy fun on a trampoline
(Yes, on a trampoline.)
//
"S-San Lang."
The warm summer night swallows Xie Lian’s shaky exhale as Hua Cheng finally lets him go after devouring his lips for the umpteenth time.
"Fuck, gege."
Hua Cheng hovers over, arms bracketing Xie Lian in-between. With an expression of lust, mischief, and adoration, he catches Xie Lian’s lips once again.
Reluctant to break the kiss, Xie Lian loops his arms around Hua Cheng’s neck—the perfect leverage to shuffle up a bit.
His shirt follows along, riding up to reveal a bit of skin.
"A-And this is the newest piece of our collection," The plain-faced tour guy says, nervously correcting his glasses, "What at first appears to be a pair of regular stone statues..."
"... But it has been discovered that if the light falls on them from a different angle… "
He pushes a few buttons on the console that he clutches in his sweaty palms.
A blinding flash of light and a few of the visitors gasp.
Within the glass box, the statue of the Scrap Collecting Immortal shines brilliantly.