After spending another good half a day at Mount Tonglu, Xie Lian returned to Ghost City.
There were only a few hours left before Hua Cheng’s birthday formally arrived. The ghosts and Xie Lian had agreed to pretend there was nothing afoot while sneakily decorating Ghost City in secret. Xie Lian dodged into a small shop, and it wasn’t long before he was surrounded by ghosts.
Anxious and chaotic, they asked him, “Well? How’d it go?”
They were practically acting like thieves.
“How is your Chengzhu?” Xie Lian asked. “Has he noticed anything off?”
“Nope, nope,” replied the ghosts. “Chengzhu stayed inside Thousand Lights Temple all day.”
Xie Lian was slightly amazed. “The entire day?”
“Yeah! Chengzhu seems to be in a good mood. Grand…Xie-daozhang, did you prepare a birthday present?”
Reassured at last, Xie Lian smiled and touched the longevity lock he’d worked so hard to forge.
“Yes,” he said.
The ghosts were elated. They spent some time discussing the setup for tomorrow’s birthday celebration before Xie Lian finally returned to Thousand Lights Temple. Surprisingly, Hua Cheng was still practicing calligraphy when he walked in.
Hua Cheng actually doing his writing practice without Xie Lian’s constant supervision was certainly a once-in-a-lifetime event; it seemed he truly was in a good mood. Xie Lian found it oddly funny to see that pitiful, precious Eight Corners Brush write such twisted, hideous words at the behest of Hua Cheng’s hand, and he shook his head.
At the sound of Xie Lian’s return, Hua Cheng put down the brush, giving it a break from his torture at last.
“Gege, you’re back?” Hua Cheng said with a smile. “Just in time. Come take a look at my results.”
Xie Lian grinned. “Okay.”
Just as he was about to approach, however, his face froze for a second and his steps faltered. He stopped, frowning.
Hua Cheng instantly noticed something was wrong and was at Xie Lian’s side in the space of a second. “What is it?”
Xie Lian’s expression swiftly returned to normal. “Nothing.”
It wasn’t nothing. He had felt a sharp, acute pang in his heart.
But Hua Cheng would not allow him to neglect his own health. “Where did you go today?” he asked as he caught Xie Lian’s wrist. “Did you get hurt again?”
“No,” Xie Lian said.
And that was the truth—he really hadn’t. Although he’d been running around for the past few days, everything had gone quite smoothly, and he hadn’t encountered any danger.
Hua Cheng hummed briefly. Unable to detect anything amiss, he dropped Xie Lian’s wrist. Xie Lian breathed deeply, in and out; he didn’t notice anything amiss either. Perhaps that pain had just been his imagination.
“Maybe I tweaked a nerve or something?” Xie Lian said with a laugh. “All right, let me see how you’ve done today.”
Only then did Hua Cheng smile once more. Catching Xie Lian’s hand, he said, “Come here.”
Xie Lian hadn’t responded before he felt another sudden stab of pain in his heart.
This time, it was definitely not his imagination! He felt it keenly. If the first time was a pinprick of pain, then the second was like his heart being raked by sharp nails. Fortunately, Hua Cheng had briefly turned his head away when it happened—Xie Lian might not have been able to blow it off as “nothing” otherwise.
The timing of this problem was inconvenient; Xie Lian didn’t want to tell Hua Cheng and make him worry right now. They played around inside Thousand Lights Temple for a while before Xie Lian found an excuse to leave and examine himself more carefully.
A moment later, he dropped his arm, his expression solemn.
The conclusion was, of course, that there was no problem whatsoever. Otherwise, Hua Cheng would’ve caught it when he grabbed his wrist to check his pulse earlier.
So why was he experiencing random pangs of heartache?
Xie Lian pondered the matter for a moment and wondered if some evil spirit might have entered his body, or if perhaps he’d been poisoned by something strange. He didn’t panic, though—at least not yet. It would be Hua Cheng’s birthday very soon, and if something happened, he would surely have no mind to celebrate and would instead drag Xie Lian off for treatment again.
Xie Lian was used to bearing pain, and it wasn’t like he hadn’t experienced strange things like this before, so he didn’t think anything of it. He decided to give it a day and deal with it on his own in secret later.
Night came, and the hour was fast approaching. Xie Lian went back to Thousand Lights Temple and found Hua Cheng still inside—blatantly bored out of his mind and making a show of doodling and wasting paper. Xie Lian began to smile at the sight despite himself. Before the smile could fully bloom on his face, however, there was another stab of pain in his heart.
When rubbing his chest didn’t make it go away, he thought, Looks like this is a little serious…but I can bear it for a while longer.
He drew a soft breath and walked in. “San Lang? There’s something I might need your help with,” he said gently.
“What is it?” asked Hua Cheng as he put the brush down.
“Close your eye first,” said Xie Lian.
Hua Cheng quirked his eyebrow, but he closed his eye as directed without question.
Xie Lian picked up his hands and said with a smile, “Follow me.”
This was a reversal of that night on Mount Yujun. Hua Cheng smiled.
“Sure.”
“Watch the threshold,” cautioned Xie Lian as he slowly guided Hua Cheng to the door, hand in hand.
Hua Cheng had walked through Thousand Lights Temple countless times and didn’t need a reminder of how to walk where. Nonetheless, he waited until Xie Lian had given him the reminder before he lifted his boot, the silver chain on it jingling as he did so. They passed through the front gates and made their way down the long street that led away from the temple.
They had walked for a while before Xie Lian said, “Okay, now you can open your eye.”
Hua Cheng did as directed. In that instant, his ink-black eye brightened at once, like a lamp set alight.
Lanterns and colorful banners hung along the rambling main street. It was much tidier and fresher than the usual messy streetside; every household had made great efforts to clean up. New banners and signs replaced the tattered old ones, the walls and eaves were shiny and glistening—everything looked brand new.
The ghosts had them surrounded before they realized it, but all of them were holding their breaths and didn’t dare make a sound. The moment Hua Cheng opened his eye, they started blowing horns and drumming drums and hollering a messy chorus of “Happy birthday, Chengzhu!” Some also used the chance to yell “May you live a long time together,” and even “Have a child soon.” It was a horrid ruckus!
Xie Lian slapped a hand to his forehead at the sight of this awful presentation. They had spent a long time rehearsing and had managed—just barely—to cheer in chorus. So why was it now such anarchy?!
Hua Cheng was expressionless and apparently utterly unmoved by any of this. “What are you all doing? This racket is murderous,” he said, one brow arched.
The ghosts had abandoned their rehearsed presentation. With shockingly thick skin, they replied, “Then we die! It’s not like anyone here’s alive anyway!”
Hua Cheng snorted a laugh. When he turned around, he saw Xie Lian standing behind him, hiding his hands behind his back.
“San Lang,” Xie Lian began, “I heard…it’s your birthday today?”
Hua Cheng had clearly been waiting for this for a long time. He crossed his arms and tilted his head, replying with a grin. “Mm-hmm. Yeah.”
Xie Lian cleared his throat softly a few times, then suddenly hopped up and looped the longevity lock’s chain around his neck.
“This…was forged in a hurry,” Xie Lian said. “Hope you don’t mind!”
The longevity lock was engraved with patterns like the ones found on Hua Cheng’s vambraces: maple leaves, butterflies, beasts, and so on, all carved in exquisite detail. Furthermore, it contained potent spiritual power—this was clearly an extraordinary item.
The ghosts hollered, raising a fanfare.
“Sublime! It’s gorgeous! What is that treasure?!”
“Ah! Only Chengzhu is worthy of wearing such a treasure! Only such a treasure is worthy of being worn by Chengzhu!”
They were so over the top that Xie Lian didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. He was growing ever more nervous, not knowing whether he should ask Hua Cheng what he thought of the gift. Hua Cheng didn’t say a word, but his eye shone brightly, and a touch of a smile was surfacing on his lips.
He picked up the silver lock that hung around his neck. However, just as he was about to speak, something unexpected happened.
Xie Lian’s knees suddenly buckled, and he dropped to the ground.
It was so sudden that the circle of cheering ghosts turned into a circle of alarmed cries. Hua Cheng’s smile faded immediately, and he caught him with a swift hand.
“Gege? What’s wrong?”
Though his face was pale, Xie Lian managed a smile. “Noth—”
The sentence died in his throat before it could even begin.
Oh no, there it is again!
The inexplicable heartache had struck again. This time, the pain was excruciating—like his heart was being blown to pieces.
Xie Lian groaned inwardly. He hadn’t expected the onslaught of pain to be so aggressive. Each attack was more brutal than the previous—and it just had to strike now!
He was still rather calm, all things considered, but the agony went on and on—it felt like someone was hammering a peachwood5 nail into his heart. Xie Lian was in so much pain that it was hard to breathe. He could barely lift his head, which was drenched in cold sweat.
Hua Cheng’s expression had changed completely. “Your Highness?!” He caught Xie Lian’s wrist, but he still couldn’t detect anything wrong. “Your Highness! Where did you go yesterday?!”
Panicked cries sounded from all around. Although Xie Lian moved his lips, he couldn’t utter a single word—it was like something had nailed his throat closed.
The arms that held Xie Lian were nearly shaking. A frenzy that bordered on madness colored Hua Cheng’s handsome face, which had once always looked calm and unbothered. Another heavy pang struck Xie Lian’s heart, and he finally passed out, unable to hold out any longer.
Before he lost consciousness, the word “sorry” filled his mind.
Today was Hua Cheng’s birthday!