Chapter Text
A nameless ghost once exited the kiln of Mount Tonglu, becoming a supreme. His name became Hua Cheng, and he was then called Crimson Rain Sought Flower.
A ghost whose name had been his own death sentence, He Xuan, had also exited the kiln, becoming Black Water Submerging Boats.
Those names were known and feared by all the three realms, and they had been forged after years of suffering inside of a mountain.
However, when a new supreme was born from the kiln, after having spent only one year inside of it, he needed no name to accompany his exit.
Everyone already knew his name, so it was useless to give him a new one.
The name of the person was Xie Lian, and he was known for being a scrap-picking god. No one, in all the three realms, expected him to fall so low.
Xie Lian couldn’t stand the sight that welcomed him outside. Many Heaven Officials had waited for him to exit, to see if he was safe, and among them, there was a ghost king. Hua Cheng, that one year before had been expelled from the mountain right after jumping in it hand in hand with the god he loved, now had to witness the same god fallen from everything he could fall from, a mask hiding his face.
Xie Lian couldn’t stand it. He fled from all the gods and the ghost who had hoped for him to come back, and he hid from his past, in grief for everything he had lost. He was used to possessing nothing, he was used to losing everything, but he had finally obtained someone in his life, and the emptiness he felt in losing him was more painful than the year he had spent in the kiln.
He wanted to go back, he wanted to meet Hua Cheng once more. He wanted to be hugged, to be reassured that everything would turn out fine, that he didn’t need to worry. He wanted Hua Cheng to take off that damned mask forced on his face, and step on it until it became dust. He had even prepared a speech of apologies for having run away and hidden: he knew by heart the words that he wanted to say to San Lang.
However, he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He knew, in his heart, that Hua Cheng would have accepted him anyway. Loved him anyway. But it would have been for pity, for blind devotion. What Hua Cheng loved and worshipped was a god, not a ghost. What Xie Lian was now was just a shadow of what Hua Cheng had dedicated his whole life to, and even if his most loyal believer would still follow him when he was like this, Xie Lian wouldn’t accept him. He couldn’t do this to San Lang.
Xie Lian still wore the half-smiling and half-crying mask that Bai WuXiang had forced on him. When he died, one year before, the cursed shackles he had had disappeared. Before he could even realize what had happened, he was a powerful ghost, full of spiritual powers. Now that he was a devastation rank, the powers within his hands seemed unlimited, and yet, his strength wasn’t enough to take off a simple mask. Xie Lian hadn’t seen his own face in a very long time.
Maybe it was better not to see it, since he was sure he wouldn’t be able to recognize himself... now that he thought about it, he wasn’t even sure he remembered his own face. Hadn’t he always worn a mask? In the darkness of the cave he was resting in, Xie Lian shook his head. No, if he had always worn a mask, then how would Hua Cheng have sculpted all those statues? Xie Lian sighed deeply, recognizing the fact that he was starting to forget things.
The only thing about his past that he cared about was the red string tied at his third finger. If that were to disappear, he would probably leave this world as well. He hated his past, he hated his present. And yet... he couldn’t bring himself to hate Hua Cheng.
Xie Lian had thought that it would take him some centuries to forget his past, but after some years of solitude, he was already used to this kind of life. He had a routine in his actions, and he was slowly adjusting to it. He loved to cook, even if he couldn’t taste his dishes, because of the mask on his face. He didn’t need to eat anyway, but he enjoyed finding new ingredients and creating new recipes. Old habits die hard, since he had to be a scrap-picker to get ingredients to cook with.
Sometimes, if a traveler or a beggar passed by him while he was cooking, he offered them a meal, and he never argued back when the food he gave was spitted on the ground, because it was too disgusting. Even though he avoided meeting others, due to his scrap-picking habits it was impossible to be completely alone. Xie Lian didn’t mind being in the company of others. He simply didn’t talk, he has never since he has fled and hidden, and most people believed he was just a mute person who had to hide their face because of its ugliness or some childhood scar.
He had thought that, if someone that he knew ever were to find him, it would surely be his San Lang. Apparently, he was wrong.
A lot of months had passed since he had fled. He wasn’t sure about how much exactly, and he wasn’t even sure of where he was, at that point. He liked to rest in dark caves, where he could easily hide his masked face from sight of eventual strangers, so when he somehow managed to directly fall into a hole in the ground, while carelessly roaming around a forest, and he saw that it led to a small cave, he was tempted into staying. However, staying in a place underneath the earth was dangerous, and he didn’t want to risk being buried alive by a sudden weakness of the dirt roof, so at the end he decided to climb out and search another place.
He was pondering if the roots sticking out of the earth were strong enough to hold his weight, when he noticed that there was someone laying inside of the cave behind him.
He didn’t like to speak, and he wasn’t scared of the eventual threat, so he leisurely stepped towards the person, entering the small cave.
“Hello, my friend!!” The person suddenly exclaimed.
Xie Lian jolted back, surprised. He wasn’t scared, but he didn’t expect that warm welcoming.
Without waiting for an answer, the hidden man laughed and continued, “Come here and drink with me! I’m feeling lonely on my own!!”
Xie Lian shook his head. That person was clearly drunk, and probably didn’t even remember his own name.
Seeing that his invitation hadn’t worked, the drunk person swayed on their feet, trying to approach Xie Lian, to coax him into drinking.
Xie Lian was almost about to leave, when the person suddenly stepped out from the darkness, revealing the features of a dirty yet handsome youth.
‘Lord Wind Master!!???’ Xie Lian thought, recognizing the face. If he wasn’t so used to not talking, he would have probably blurted it out loud.
Shi Qingxuan was walking while dragging one of his legs, and one of his arms was clearly injured as well. Still, he held tightly a jar of wine in his healthy arm, a look of ecstasy and joy on his face. Even though mud was covering all of his appearance, the shining eyes that characterised the young man were still lit in optimism.
Xie Lian had thought the Wind Master had died, or worse, and seeing him so happy and careless was kind of a relief. If he were still able to, he would have smiled at the sight of the old friend.
“My friend,” Shi Qingxuan spoke while laughing, “your face is so weird, hahaha!”
‘And you are drunk,’ Xie Lian sighed.
Shi Qingxuan had been a god, so he must have known what Bai WuXiang’s mask looked like. In a state of drunkenness, however, he wasn’t even able to tell what Xie Lian was wearing was a mask, and not his own face.
Even though Xie Lian didn’t answer, Shi Qingxuan still giggled, his eyes sparkling from delight. After sitting on the ground, because of his hurt leg and his drunkenly-balance, Shi Qingxuan pulled Xie Lian sitting as well, happy to have someone to talk to.
“My friend, what is your name?”
“...”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, you should also be pleased to meet me. You know, I am a god! Hahaha!”
“...”
“You know, my friend, I’ve been left here for now, but when my friends will come back, I will give you the honour to present them to you!
Xie Lian couldn’t answer, so he raised his eyebrow in question. Then he realised that his face was still covered, but Shi Qingxuan didn’t have these kinds of problems, and he didn’t need inputs to continue his chattering.
“Are you asking who my friends are? Well, they are my believers of course! I’ve already told you I’m a god, haven’t I? Hahah!!”
Xie Lian highly doubted his words, but it was heartening to know Shi Qingxuan wasn’t alone. Since his ‘friends’ were going to come back, he could leave Shi Qingxuan here without concerns.
Shi Qingxuan was probably going to chat forever, so he took advantage of his pause to stand up and leave. It had been fun and relieving to see the Wind Master again, but he couldn’t afford to bond with the past.
He had already climbed out of the pit, when he suddenly felt a demonic aura lingering in the woods around him. For a second, he even thought that the aura resembled San Lang’s. He shook his head, denying his theory. If San Lang were there, he wouldn’t have been hiding.
Maybe it was just a ghost or spirit following the traces of yang energy coming from Shi Qingxuan. He wouldn’t have been surprised if the Wind Master had somehow befriended some demons, knowing the man’s personality.
Guided by the fact that he didn’t want to interfere, he stopped caring. Even if the demon had bad intentions, after all, Xie Lian couldn’t save everyone. What was the point in trying?
He couldn’t imagine that the demonic aura he had sensed, was really belonging to a supreme. A ghost who had been following Shi Qingxuan for some time, to monitor him, to keep him safe, and that now had his eyes on Xie Lian.
Even if Shi Qingxuan was too drunk to recognize the mask on his face, that demon was not. Without Xie Lian knowing it, He Xuan had already informed Hua Cheng of what he had just seen. As if destined to be separated, however, Xie Lian was already far away, and he never got to know how close he was to be found.
Xie Lian never stayed in the same place for more than two days, mostly to be sure his identity remained undiscovered, but also because he liked to travel. He didn’t have the cursed shackles anymore, but he was a calamity born in misfortune, and misfortune was what would forever surround him.
If there had been a time in which he didn’t know whether his unluckiness was limited to himself or also spread to who was close to him, now he could be sure that he brought misfortune wherever he went.
Crimson Rain Sought Flower had blood rains.
Bai WuXiang had the human-face disease.
He had misfortune on his side.
What he wasn’t sure of was whether that unluckiness applied only to what surrounded him or even himself. After all, everything felt the same, he couldn’t tell if he was lucky or not at that point.
Because he didn’t want to linger and bring misfortune to his old friend, as soon as he departed from Shi Qingxuan, he set off as far as he could, ignoring that if he had stayed for some minutes more, he would have met someone who had been desperately searching for him.
He could use his spiritual powers to find a more convenient way for traveling, but he preferred to walk, and enjoy his surroundings. He didn’t like to have spiritual powers, they reminded him of everything he’d lost.
Xie Lian couldn’t help but shiver at the memory. The moment he had exited the kiln, some gods were already there, waiting for him to come out. And then there was San Lang, whose expression haunted Xie Lian’s dreams.
When Xie Lian escaped his past, finding shelter in being alone, he still couldn’t believe what had just happened. He knew what would be waiting for him once he exited the kiln, but it was totally different to face it. To face the judgement.
At first, he cried and cursed at the other gods, and his screams echoed in the empty cave he was him, audible only to himself. Then, he yelled against Hua Cheng, who had looked at him with the most hatred-filled expression he had ever seen on his face. Xie Lian knew of course that that look wasn’t directed at him, but at the calamity he looked like. He had just come out of the mountain, with the aura of a devastation rank ghost and the half-smiling and half-crying mask: obviously nobody recognized him at first. He had expected that to happen, but he still wasn’t ready for all those expressions.
And what worsened everything was Hua Cheng’s reaction once he realized who he was. Hua Cheng was lost, as if he couldn’t accept what he was looking at. Xie Lian made eye contact with him, and what looked back wasn’t comprehension, comfort, acceptance, or anything he needed at the moment, it was plain fear. San Lang was scared, he was scared of him.
That moment was when Xie Lian realized he wouldn’t be able to accept the judgement of others, and he fled from the scene. At first, he was sure he would go back, because he wouldn’t be able to be alone for too long. Apparently, he was wrong. Time passed, and he got used to the idea that the past wouldn’t come back, and it was better to bury it behind the path he walked on. It was easier that way.
Now, he was neither sad nor happy. He was exactly the opposite of the mask he was forced to wear. He had nightmares about the past, sometimes he even forgot he was dead, and he panicked because he wasn't breathing, or he felt himself starving. Sometimes he felt tears on his cheeks, and he couldn’t remember when he had started crying, or for what reason. He didn’t even know ghosts could cry. He couldn’t wipe his own tears, because of the mask, so the only thing he could do was ignore them.
Despite this, he didn’t feel sad. He had learned to live with himself, even though there was a period in which he hated it. Once he escaped the mountain and his past, after feeling rage towards the gods and Hua Cheng, he had started hating himself. He would start crying for the littlest things, blaming his worthlessness for being in this situation. Like his hate for the gods and Hua Cheng, however, even that kind of hate had disappeared. He didn’t like being what he was, he felt disgusted by it, but he couldn’t blame himself for it, so he just had to accept it.
He wasn’t happy, nor satisfied, but he could go on. He liked to meet strangers, even though he didn’t speak to them, and they sometimes treated him like trash, but he was still glad if he could give a hand in some way. His dream had been to save the common people. It was useless to even try it now, but he didn’t hate the idea, or think his past self to be ridiculous. If he were able to, he would still be glad to save the common people. But if he couldn’t do it as a god, how could he do it now?
