Work Text:
“There’s a storm coming.”
The very few lanterns they had set up around their small yard swayed from the eaves, the candles inside barely lit against the cold breeze. Even the sorry excuse of wishful paper charms Jun Wu had cut along with Mei Niangqing’s more experienced hands fluttered in the wind, whirling towards the dark heavens. He couldn’t even see past the forest, with the nimbostratus clouds wrapping the atmosphere.
“I don’t think we’ll see the fireworks later,” he sighed. Mei Niangqing was looking forward to seeing the fireworks show.
Had he still been the Heavenly Emperor, he would’ve summoned the withdrawn Thunder Master and demanded he clear the storm just atop their little haven for Mei Nianqing, whose company he finally got after millennia of searching.
But he's not the god of all gods anymore. Not even close to greatness, he's just a commoner living with his beloved who wants a fortunate new year's eve, which is an event that will inevitably disappoint him once the rain crashes down on them.
“Mei-er, I—”
“Do you think this is enough for fifteen people?”
Jun Wu whipped to his direction. “Fifteen?”
Mei Nianqing adjusted a plate of freshly made dumplings and stepped back from the long table.
Despite Jun Wu's uneasiness, Mei Nianqing looked satisfied.
“I think it’s enough,” he murmured. “If more arrive, then we’ll manage. I did say they should bring their own food.”
As he said those words, Jun Wu could feel a pinch on his heart. Mei Nianqing may not look like it, but he was really thrilled for this event. His purple eyes sparkled like the golden plates he'd proudly won over a game of mahjong.
A greedy merchant wanted more than he already had, betting his chest of golden kitchenware for Mei Nianqing’s golden belt from his time as a god. Mei Nianqing didn't roam this earth for 2000 years just to lose in a simple game. He came home that night pulling a donkey carrying enough golden plates to appease the once highest among gods.
He bragged about the experience the very next day when Xie Lian and Hua Cheng visited with their Xiao Linyu. The rush of the moment prompted Mei Nianqing to invite Xie Lian's family for New Year's Eve so they could test out the goldenware. And Xie Lian, as kind as ever, offered to bring food from Paradise Manor (the more edible ones provided by Hua Chengzhu) as well as inform Feng Xin, Shi Qingxuan, and the Heavenly Couple that they celebrate at Mt. Tonglu.
It would be grand for their first year of peace after the war of heaven and earth. So, Mei Nianqing was excited. And knowing him, he must've already foretold this event to be prosperous and delightful.
Jun Wu, however, only stood near the doorway, his arms folded behind his back and his head hung low with doubt. He only saw disaster.
“They…” He started off.
“Hm?”
“They won’t come,” Jun Wu said again, his voice barely more than a quiet whisper. “After everything I’ve done, I doubt any of them would want to sit at my table again.”
I've already caused them enough hurt. It would be shameless of me to sit among them, like I still held power over all.
He wanted to say. To regret. To apologize. Instead, he kept his mouth shut. Even the simple act of voicing out his worries seemed to be a luxury for Jun Wu and he deserved nothing of the sort. Not after everything.
But despite the silence, with only the ghostly wind creeping in the small crevices of their cottage, Mei Niangqing noticed only the slipping of those thoughts. He heard every worry, though he didn't look at him, only fixing the dish placements.
“That may be true,” he replied solemnly, “but tradition, Your Highness, isn’t about comfort. It’s about continuity. Seasons change. Flowers bloom and wither, but winter breaks and it’s time for spring again. The new year should begin with an open door and new beginnings.” After these words did he finally glance over his shoulder to where Jun Wu was already staring.
Jun Wu exhaled slowly. “Guoshi, you always believe in people more than I do.”
“Not really. But it’s Your Highness that always assumes the worst,” Mei Nianqing spoke frankly, walking up to Jun Wu and straightening his wrinkled collar. “Hey… you should look your best.”
“How could I even look my best?” Jun Wu pointed at the three disfigured faces on his.
A chuckle came out of Mei Nianqing. The hands that were on his collar rose to his face. Soft fingertips trailed his rough, patchy face, circling around the scars that were his late vassals—their friends.
Jun Wu thought Mei Nianqing would feel uncomfortable like the first time he touched his face and got reminded of their history together as a group of teenagers just wanting to make a difference in this world. Mei Nianqing had flinched and stepped away that time, but the Mei Nianqing now didn't take a step farther.
Instead, he pulled Jun Wu down just as he stood on his tiptoes and kissed his forehead, catching Jun Wu off guard.
“Your Highness, you've never changed a single bit in my eyes,” he whispered.
Jun Wu froze as ice. For a heartbeat, his mind went blank, as if every doubt, every worry and every regretful memory of his long, lonely life that he’d lived ruthlessly had been swept clean by the gentle press of lips against his textured skin.
Warmth bloomed where Mei Nianqing kissed him and it spread down his cheeks and neck until even the tips of his ears burned red.
“M-Mei… er,” Jun Wu, the once cold yet mighty emperor of the heavens, who reigned for thousands of years and was the terror of gods and ghosts alike, felt his composure unravel and his voice trembling. “You… you’ve grown bold!”
Mei Nianqing huffed softly. “And you’ve grown timid,” he teased. “Your Highness shouldn’t let them see you like this! You’d be the laughingstock of the heavens for far longer than His Highness of Xianle!”
“That is absurd! I would not—”
Gravel crunched outside the cottage.
Both of them stiffened, their heads instinctively poking out past the doorframe toward the yard. There, they saw Xie Lian and Hua Cheng approaching, with Hua Cheng carrying their little (not so little anymore) mantou in his arms, while Xie Lian held several bags that seemed to contain pots of food.
“We’re here!” Xie Lian called with a bright smile.
“Who cooked?” Mei Nianqing immediately butted in, already tense at the possibility of Xie Lian poisoning him and the rest of the guests.
“Ah, hehe. San Lang knew you’d be worried, so he had his cooks prepare a simple dinner for us all.”
A breath of relief escaped Mei Nianqing’s lips. “Thank you,” he said, nodding at the Crimson Calamity, who bowed to him while completely ignoring Jun Wu’s greeting. Then Mei Nianqing’s gaze drifted lower, landing on the little princess of Ghost City. “Hello, A-Yu. You’ve grown quite big now.”
Hua Linyu, bubbly like her a-niang, beamed at Mei Nianqing and even tried to grab his robes. But the moment her sparkling eyes fell on the gray-robed man behind him, she turned away coldly.
Jun Wu frowned. “I see nothing’s changed.”
She still hates me.
“She takes after me,” Hua Cheng huffed with pride.
Jun Wu couldn’t argue with that. Hua Cheng’s wrath knew no bounds, and it seemed to have passed itself onto their little one, who held a particular dislike for him.
He remembered the first time Xie Lian visited after the pregnancy. He had introduced his daughter to Mei Nianqing and Jun Wu. Hua Linyu had been docile and playful around Mei Nianqing. On the other hand, she had quite literally pooped in Jun Wu’s arms.
While Jun Wu was not particularly fond of children and did not know how to deal with them—Cuo Cuo being proof of how poorly he fared as a father figure—he knew that infants usually signaled before they needed to relieve themselves. But Hua Linyu had smiled sweetly at him before doing exactly that all over his white robes.
“It’s nice to see you, A-Yu.”
Xiao Linyu didn’t even bother acknowledging him, and Hua Cheng saw no need to discipline his daughter on how to behave toward her elders.
More footsteps sounded outside. Jun Wu glanced over to see Yin Yu approaching with Quan Yizhen, who was already craning his neck to peer at everything with open curiosity.
Behind them came the enthusiastic Lang Qianqiu, carrying an equally giddy Guzi on his shoulders.
“Xīnnián kuàilè!” the two of them greeted, making their rounds before overtaking the group entirely because Guzi wanted to play with Hua Linyu inside. They were the stark contrast of Qi Rong and Xie Lian, acting more like siblings than cousins with how close they were with each other.
Yin Yu stopped before the former emperor and bowed to him, though Jun Wu could sense it wasn’t sincere, only for formalities. Meanwhile, Quan Yizhen’s attention was elsewhere. He was more interested in their house.
“This cottage is really…” Quan Yizhen began as he hopped onto the porch, jumping up and down like he was thinking the durability.
“Really what?” Jun Wu prompted, indulging his curiosity as if he hadn’t spent centuries practically ignoring the Western god, seeing him as little more than Yin Yu’s puppy.
“It’s old,” said the puppy. “Fitting for old people.”
Ironically, Jun Wu, also known as Bai Wuxiang, didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.
He merely nodded at the commentary and gestured for them to come inside, where Mei Nianqing was once again bragging to the gods and Ghost King about his overwhelming mahjong victory.
Jun Wu, however, remained by the doorway, where he caught sight of two more newcomers. Shi Qingxuan swept in with Feng Xin in tow, laughing before they even crossed the threshold.
“Oh, this is perfect!” Shi Qingxuan exclaimed while Feng Xin desperately tried to escape his grasp. “You know, if I were still a god, I’d absolutely transform into a woman tonight and make you escort me.”
Feng Xin groaned. “Why do you never fucking stop!?”
“What? It’s a gentleman’s responsibility to escort a lady! Besides, it's not like you have anyone!” Shi Qingxuan winked. “Also, my feet hurt. I walked all the way here, battling strong winds by myself. Help a friend out.”
As if to prove his point, he lifted a foot to show his sandals, worn thin by the slow passage of time as a mortal with no prospects as opposed to the lavish life he once reveled in with the late Shi Wudu. Feng Xin had little choice but to support Shi Qingxuan with an arm around his shoulders, practically carrying him to the porch.
They noticed Jun Wu observing them and paused to offer their respects. But, like Yin Yu, Feng Xin wasn’t entirely genuine with his greeting, despite his reputation as an honorable gentleman.
Jun Wu took no offense. Feng Xin was deeply loyal to Xie Lian, so, of course, he would harbor ill feelings. In truth, Jun Wu had long since expected everyone’s passive aggression. There’s no atoning for what he did to them.
“Where’s Xuan Zhen?” Jun Wu asked before Feng Xin entered the cottage.
Feng Xin looked annoyed, his scowl deepening at the question. “I don’t know why you’re asking me when he has his husband, the Emperor, to look after him.”
Ah… I forgot.
“My apologies, Nan Yang. I’ve always associated the two of you with each other because of your territories,” Jun Wu said with a light cough. “Where you go, he goes.”
Feng Xin’s face turned sour. “That’s not true.”
Jun Wu had only realized that Heaven had grown quieter after Feng Xin and Mu Qing stopped dragging each other onto the Heavenly Avenue just to fight. Now that Pei Ming had charmed Mu Qing and ascended the throne after his banishment, both Heaven and Earth felt far more harmonious.
Pei Ming’s transition from infamous playboy to devoted husband never failed to draw a dry chuckle from Jun Wu. He could never quite get used to it. Even the thought of him becoming Emperor had once seemed absurd as Pei Ming had always been so vocal about his dislike to rise the ranks. But look at him now.
Jun Wu smiled at the memory of Pei Ming spawning at their cottage without warning, just to vent his struggles and worries as the new Heavenly Emperor. As a general, he had been confident, but on a throne, he had been anxious. Yet he conquered both naturally.
Feng Xin didn’t spare Jun Wu another glance, seeing him lost in thought. He tugged Shi Qingxuan along and went inside, leaving Jun Wu standing and waiting alone outside.
Jun Wu hadn’t truly expected the gods to come. But now that most of them had arrived, he found himself wanting to greet each one personally before the new year’s eve feast. But the sky had darkened, yet no golden aura graced their porch. Meanwhile, the chatter inside swelled in his absence, making him frown a little.
He tilted his head, listening in. Mei Nianqing was laughing and joking with the younger gods, even playing with the two children. It seemed he had already forgotten Jun Wu entirely, just left standing outside, watching the night deepen by the second.
But he was wrong because Mei Nianqing would always notice his absence.
“Your Highness,” came the sweetest voice from behind him. “It’s getting late. Come inside. I know you’re cold. It seems the Emperor and his… bride,” Mei Niangqing tried not to cringe. “will be delayed.”
“And Ling Wen? Queen Yushi?” Jun Wu asked.
Mei Nianqing shrugged. “I heard from His Highness of Xianle that Ling Wen declined his invitation. She said she would be spending the new year with Queen Yushi. It would seem they are seeing each other, though not officially.”
“Oh?”
Well, that, he had not expected. Ever!
Yushi Huang had always been reclusive, content within her own quiet sphere at Yushi Country, never needing the company of other gods when she had her people and most loyal ox companion with her. And Ling Wen? She could barely find time to see herself in the mirror, let alone anyone else, under the weight of her endless duties.
Then it struck Jun Wu that perhaps he had done that to her. Ling Wen had rarely met anyone beyond the most prolific members of the Upper Court because he had always kept her buried in work. Tasks that should never have been hers alone to bear.
He had never given her rest until he fell from grace. And now that Pei Ming was Emperor, everyone seemed to be living fuller, much happier lives.
It’s like the whole solution to everything was him… gone.
“Your Highness, is something wrong?” Mei Nianqing noticed his silence as he always did and patted his shoulder. “What is it?”
“It’s nothing,” Jun Wu dismissed.
He stepped inside with Mei Nianqing. The room had been bright with laughter from a joke Shi Qingxuan had just told. Despite his fortune toppling over since the death of his brother, the then Wind Master was always the life of the party, but the moment they caught sight of Jun Wu walking to his seat upfront, the laughter faltered and quickly died.
“Uh…”
He didn’t know what to say. And they didn’t seem to want to hear anything he would say. They only busied themselves with drinking the wine Feng Xin had brought with them from Heaven’s pier in the Southeast, and gossiped with each other.
“Everyone, it’s been a great privilege to have you here tonight,” he started off, but no one was looking at him, except for Mei Nianqing. He smiled at Jun Wu, encouraging him to continue.
That warm smile melted his doubts away, his heart swelling with fondness that only Mei Nianqing could manage to do. For a second there, just a split second, he saw a younger Mei Nianqing smiling at him while the much younger Wuyong prince recited the scriptures he so hated to memorize for a whole day. Mei Nianqing kept encouraging him to go on. Up to this day, Mei Nianqing still rooted for him to succeed.
“Thank you for taking the time to be with us today to celebrate the New Ye—”
Thud!
He was cut off by hushed giggles from outside. He thought it was just the breeze bellowing against bamboo sprouts until Mei Nianqing opened the door to find two flirting figures in the dark.
Pei Ming and Mu Qing.
“Your Majesty! Finally, you’ve arrived,” all of them stood up and bowed before Pei Ming who insisted it was unnecessary.
“Apologies for the delay, we…” Pei Ming cleared his throat as he put a hand over Mu Qing’s pregnant belly which appeared to have a stain he tried to hide with his palm. “We had a little emergency.”
“Wow, you all came?”
The heavenly couple stopped short at the sight of everyone gathered because they didn’t expect everyone would actually come to celebrate with Jun Wu, and everyone, in turn, stared back at them.
And how could they not?
Mu Qing’s intricately styled ponytail was loose from its usual secured tie and Pei Ming’s golden collar sat crooked, as though hastily straightened to cover up something faintly red and purple.
Both looked… unmistakably disheveled. And both, despite themselves, were flushed and sweating to the cold weather.
Xie Lian, out of instinct, put his hands over Guzi and Hua Linyu’s eyes to Lang Qianqiu’s great confusion, while Hua Cheng barked a laugh.
“Well, well,” he sang. “Did we interrupt something, or are you two arriving from somewhere far more interesting?”
Mu Qing’s face went cherry red. “We were no—”
Pei Ming coughed. “We were delayed, Hua Chengzhu,” he said smoothly. “By… some… circumstances.”
Everyone knew he was lying.
Quan Yizhen leaned toward Yin Yu and whispered loudly, “Shixiong, am I the only one noticing a bite mark on General Xuan Zhen’s neck—”
Quicker than lightning, Yin Yu shoved a vegetable bun into Quan Yizhen’s mouth, muffling his shidi’s genuine curiosity. Meanwhile, it was Mu Qing who made a strangled noise, unable to face everyone, especially with his husband, Pei Ming, looking entirely too pleased with himself!
“You two are fucking gross.” Feng Xin rolled his eyes before grabbing a cup of wine and downing it in one go.
Pei Ming only smirked, not a single shame in his body. He snapped his fingers, and above them appeared paper dragon lanterns that circled the cottage, bathing the once-dull interior in warm, shimmering light.
“What a beautiful display,” Mei Nianqing said in awe. “Come, sit down, Your Majesty.” He gestured toward the seat opposite Jun Wu. “Dinner is ready.”
They all settled in and admired the spread before them.
In spite of the simple purple and gold tablecloth, the table was laden with a fertility bowl, rice cakes, dumplings, longevity noodles, sweet rice cakes, grilled fish, persimmons, chicken soup, and the finest wine. Pei Ming’s golden dragon-lantern light flickered across polished bowls and over the taut faces of gods who had once been victims, enemies, allies, and survivors of the same shared history.
A grand feast lay before them, yet no one spoke. The only sounds were the faint clinking of chopsticks and soft chewing.
So Jun Wu tried again.
“H-How have you all been?”
No one answered, only resentful eyes turned toward him.
Mu Qing was the first to look away, returning to his bowl of soup while Pei Ming quietly poured him tea. Shi Qingxuan spoke, but only to Xie Lian, chatting about how he was finally getting the hang of scrap collecting as he was fortunate enough lately to trade bits of trash for actual coins.
To their right, Lang Qianqiu busied himself feeding Guzi, as Hua Cheng did the same with his daughter. Feng Xin, Quan Yizhen, and Yin Yu ate in steady, companionable silence.
Jun Wu’s shoulders slumped as he exhaled. Then a hand found his beneath the table, squeezing gently in comfort. He looked to the man beside him, who offered a small, encouraging smile.
“New beginnings…” Mei Nianqing whispered..
Jun Wu swallowed and tried again.
“I… I heard the southern territories recovered well after the last drought.”
Still, there was only silence.
The rejection was not loud or dramatic, especially with Hua Linyu and Guzi now cackling at each other, but somehow worse because it felt like his voice was nothing more than another background sound.
Jun Wu sighed. He set down his chopsticks and stared at his warped reflection in the surface of his soup.
“I do not expect forgiveness,” he said quietly.
Lightning flashed outside, and the table stilled before thunder rolled. Every gaze settled on him, waiting.
“I know I have done things that cannot be undone. Caused harm that cannot be relieved.” His eyes remained lowered, his hands clung to Mei Nianqing’s as though he needed anchoring, lest he slip past the point of return. “I know I was less than what a god should be and far less than the emperor you deserved.”
No one interrupted, so he continued.
“I only hope,” he breathed, voice trembling as he fought to steady it, “that you will be better than I was. That you will help the common people without hesitation.” His gaze lifted briefly to Xie Lian, who was watching him with quiet fondness. “That you will never lose yourselves as I did.”
A long pause followed. Jun Wu almost believed they would ignore him again until Mu Qing laughed.
“You’re giving moral advice now?” he said between light chuckles. “That’s rich, coming from you.”
Pei Ming leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms as he regarded Jun Wu. “You nearly destroyed three realms and had us fight each other for power, and now you want to play the wise elder?”
Hua Cheng joined in smoothly. “Truly, the audacity remains impressive.”
Even Quan Yizhen glared openly at Jun Wu, drawing out each word, “You were really terrible.”
And he was. He had all but ruined Yin Yu’s life, pitting him against Quan Yizhen in a way the Western god would never forgive easily. Yin Yu was his everything and because of Jun Wu, he lost him.
More insults came, each word landing like an arrow to Jun Wu’s chest, but he did not protest. He did not argue.
Jun Wu accepted it all with a courteous bow.
“Yes,” he confessed. “Yes, I was.”
The simple admission hung heavier than any defense they had expected from him. Through it all, Mei Nianqing held his hand tightly, just as he had hoped, grounding him to reality where he needed to be accountable for everything.
At last, Xie Lian exhaled softly. “But let’s be honest. We also… made mistakes,” he began. “Some of us more than others. We’ve all hurt people, abandoned them, failed them.”
Mu Qing’s laughter faded as he turned toward Feng Xin, who kept drinking in silence while Xie Lian spoke of his experiences.
“None of us came out clean,” Xie Lian continued, staring into the rice wine before him. “We have pasts we can never erase.”
The tension around them loosened. It wasn’t gone, but it had changed. Less like a drawn blade, and more like an old scar they had all learned to live with.
“It’s up to us to start anew.” With that, Xie Lian lifted his cup toward Jun Wu, offering to share a drink.
And for the first time that night, Jun Wu felt he could finally breathe.
He clinked cups with Xie Lian and carefully began a new conversation. They spoke of weapons and cooking. Just mundane things, safe things, and even family planning. All the while the other gods reached for dishes or refilled one another’s cups.
Some began talking again, and others simply ate. But the silence now was different. It was warm. It was alive.
Time slipped by unnoticed. Outside, the wind shifted and the dark clouds parted for the celestial bodies. Moonlight finally spilled into the courtyard of their humble home. It was pale and luminous, washing the bamboo grove in silver.
One by one, everyone stepped outside to admire the first full moon of the new year.
Then, faint at first, came the crack of fireworks, drawing soft gasps of awe. A burst of red and gold scattered across the sky like drifting stars beyond the mountains, followed by another, and another, until the whole sparkled.
“Wah! It’s green! It’s so beautiful!” Guzi exclaimed, tugging Lang Qianqiu’s sleeve so he would lift him onto his shoulders again. “Papa would’ve loved to see this!”
They stood together in the yard, heads tilted back as colors bloomed above them. Smoke carried the scent of powder and celebration from the mortal towns below, but none of the gods minded.
Shi Qingxuan’s eyes shone. “It’s so close.”
“Yeah. We usually see them from above,” Mu Qing murmured, just as awestruck.
Hua Cheng scoffed. “You mean looking down at mortals?”
Mu Qing’s amazement vanished as quickly as the fireworks, replaced by a murderous glare. Pei Ming had to wrap his arms around him from behind, holding him in place so he would only keep watching the sky than pick up another fight.
“From here, it’s different,” Pei Ming said with a smile. “Better, even.”
Xie Lian nodded. He always saw fireworks from mortal ground, but he’ll never get tired of it. “It’s like being part of it, right?”
Another burst of light rippled across their faces, drawing delighted giggles from Hua Linyu.
Shi Qingxuan spoke first, enthusiastic for his suggestion. “We should keep this tradition.”
Quan Yizhen glanced toward the cottage. “The old cottage?”
Pei Ming smirked. “Mount Tonglu’s infamous cottage. How festive.”
Xie Lian turned to Jun Wu and Mei Nianqing. “If you would allow it,” he said gently.
Jun Wu blinked, surprised. “You would return?”
Hua Cheng rolled his eye. “Once a year. Don’t get sentimental.”
Jun Wu knew perfectly well Hua Cheng would come back with Xie Lian long before that because they have a habit of hanging out here, but he glanced to his side, where Mei Nianqing gave a small nod.
“We would be honored,” Jun Wu smiled.
Pei Ming clapped his hands. “It’s settled, then. Next New Year’s Eve, here.”
The agreement settled quietly among them, even as fireworks thundered overhead and reflected in their softened eyes. They were content, choosing to move forward rather than remain trapped against the relentless passage of time.
Jun Wu felt something bloom in his chest. It was hope. Another chance. To be better. To live better.
“Well, someone does look sentimental.” Mei Nianqing’s sleeve brushed Jun Wu’s hand. “Is Your Highness all right?”
Jun Wu smiled at him. “I’m grateful.”
Mei Nianqing didn’t look at him. He simply shifted closer, fingers curling lightly into Jun Wu’s palm, as if asking permission.
Jun Wu answered by tightening his hold.
They stepped half behind the bamboo, just beyond the courtyard where their guests remained absorbed in the fireworks.
Jun Wu slid a hand to the back of Mei Nianqing’s neck and drew him into a kiss. Their lips moved together slowly, reverent as a prayer to he gods.
When they parted, Jun Wu’s face was flushed anew, gray eyes sparkling like the moon Mei Nianqing was in love with.
Mei Nianqing looked smugly pleased. After all, only he could make the former emperor react this way.
“Thank you,” Jun Wu whispered.
“For what?”
Jun Wu brushed his thumb along Mei Nianqing’s cheek. “For staying with me when you could have been free.”
Mei Nianqing shook his head and flicked Jun Wu’s forehead. “Your Highness, don’t be absurd. Where else would I go, if not beside you?”
Jun Wu couldn’t contain his smile. “I love you, A-Qing.”
“I love you too.”
They kissed again as fireworks welcomed another year above them. It was so bright, lasting, and beautiful, just like their love.