Title: You Will Be Found
Author: Timothy Wren
Fandom: Tian Guan Ci Fu/Heaven Official’s Blessing
Relationship: Hua Cheng/Xie Lian
Genre: Danmei, Fluff, Established Relationship
Challenge: Just Write’s “Holiday Bingo,” Prompt: Free Space (Home)
Word Count: 2294 (complete)
Summary: On Zhongyuan, you invite the dead in.
(In which: Xie Lian sets the table for his (coincidentally) dead husband, burns joss paper, and serves his favorite foods in offering. The dead husband is helplessly endeared.)
Author’s note: Okay, I didn’t realize at the time how much of this was very obscure. Obviously, I’m not an expert in Chinese culture and holidays, and I did take some small liberties with this being set in wuxia, since it’s not quite the same as proper ancient China. That said, let me give some (very simplified) background.
Zhongyuan— the Hungry Ghost Festival shown on the ox cart episode of TGCF is a real Chinese holiday. It’s a time where you honor your ancestors by, among other things, setting their spirit a place at your table, with (sometimes) their favorite food. Customs differ. On Zhongyuan, you’re not supposed to say ‘ghost’ (bc the spirits that don’t have dutiful living descendants hosting this holiday for them wander around and cause mischief, and you don’t want to call them in), wear red (it’s considered rude), and you burn Joss paper for the spirit. This is special paper/’ghost money’ believed to give the spirit money in the afterlife so they can live well. Venerating ancestors/ancestor spirits is extremely important in Chinese culture, so the fact that Hua Cheng (as a ghost spirit) has never been given any mourning/celebrating is very sad.
Guiyue— the seventh month is called the “Ghost Month” (鬼月 Gui Yue)– so Xie Lian is making a desperate ‘save’ to say ‘even though it wasn’t the Hungry Ghost Festival anymore, it was still ghost month.’
Qingming festival is the ‘Tomb Sweeping Festival’, where you sweep the tombs of your ancestors and honor them in a lot of other ways. Xie Lian is saying that since HC’s ashes are with him and he doesn’t have a tomb, the Puqi shrine is “his tomb” and he can sweep that. Hua Cheng says that since Xie Lian is older than him, it’s improper for him to sweep a younger person’s tomb. I’m not able to find the original source that I saw that suggested an older person shouldn’t be sweeping the tomb of a younger person, but we can chalk it up to a joke about age instead of proper rites.
Title from “found” by citizen soldier
“San Lang!” Xie Lian intercepts his husband at the door to their cottage, taking his elbow and ushering him inside.
“Oh? Gege is excited to see this husband?” Surprised, he still allows himself to be pulled into their home.
“Yes! Always, but for today, especially yes.” Xie Lian holds both his hands and looks up at him, smiling. “Hello, San Lang.”
“Mm.” Hua Cheng’s smile is wide and soft. “Hello, gege.”
Pink steals into Xie Lian’s cheeks and Hua Cheng’s eyes darken appreciatively. He brings one clasped hand up so the back of it strokes along the fetching color.
“Ah, San Lang, you’ll distract me!” Xie Lian shakes their hands reproachfully without disconnecting them, and Hua Cheng’s smile grows larger.
“That’s the idea.” He agrees, stepping a little closer and letting his nose brush Xie Lian’s hair.
“San Lang!” Laughter, but also more reproach. Hua Cheng pulls back agreeably and just watches Xie Lian for a perfect, lingering moment.
“What has gege so excited?” He asks, curiosity and amusement warm in his deep voice.
“Ah, it’s a surprise! Though I am surprised Hua Cheng doesn’t already know.” Xie Lian lets go of one of Hua Cheng’s hand to drop a finger onto his nose unexpectedly. Hua Cheng’s eye flickers to it.
Their other hands remain joined and Xie Lian uses that grip and his inviting smile to pull Hua Cheng further into the cottage.
“San Lang was very busy in Ghost City today, right?” Xie Lian says, confident and smiling as he moves about the room, dragging Hua Cheng around with him with no hesitation. Hua Cheng, delighted and willing, makes this process easier for Xie Lian, keeping step with him, moving as if it’s a dance, using his own free hand to help here and there as Xie Lian moves food into bowls and other such silliness around the kitchen.
It fills his chest with warmth. So distracted is he, watching Xie Lian move and making his tasks easier, and listening to him talk in his very bright voice, he doesn’t realize what’s going on until their places are set and Xie Lian spins back into his arms.
“Gege.” Hua Cheng says with delight, to receive an armful of husband.
“Ah, San Lang, do you know what day it is?” Delicate pink trails down Xie Lian’s handsome face.
“Mn.” Hua Cheng answers, pleased, without looking away. “Gege said, right? This San Lang was very busy in Ghost City today, making sure nothing too crazy happened.”
He brushed his own nose against Xie Lian’s, allowing the briefest of kisses to the precious flushed skin.
“San Lang, it’s Zhongyuan.” Xie Lian says shyly. Hua Cheng puzzles over this shyness for a moment, head tilted. He’s still smiling, because Xie Lian is still looking at him, but the puzzlement must show.
“It’s our first Zhongyuan since we became married.” Xie Lian elaborates firmly, cheeks burning brighter.
“Yes,” Hua Cheng agrees, still puzzled, but he grins. “Does gege remember the time on the Ox Cart?”
Blinking once at the turn of subject, Xie Lian’s expression goes soft and remembering. “Ah, San Lang, your luck was so good even then!” He reminisces.
“I have no idea what gege is talking about.” Hua Cheng states airily. “Both of those paths were perfectly safe for gege. Any path with me there was safe, of course, but if we had ended up in Ghost City, gege would have had a great time.”
“This gege loves your Ghost City, yes.” Xie Lian’s lips twitch as he fights a smile at Hua Cheng’s antics. “But San Lang, don’t you know why today is so important?”
“Pray gege tells this San Lang.” He murmured, eyes sparkling.
Xie Lian takes a deep breath.
Hua Cheng’s curiosity, already piqued– always piqued for Xie Lian– burns inside him. What has Dianxia worked up like this?
“Husband.” He says, using the formal version, and Hua Cheng’s lips part, eye widening. “My husband.”
“Yours.” Hua Cheng answers, all else forgotten.
“My sweet husband.” Xie Lian murmurs. “I’ve set you a plate. Welcome home.”
He leads Hua Cheng to the table where a place has been set for him, lavishly decorated. Red candles carved with butterflies burn around his setting.
Hua Cheng swallows hard.
He sits and Xie Lian sits across from him, quietly saying the proper prayers. He receives the ghost of his husband to the table, venerates the dead of his family, and offers his favorite foods.
Hua Cheng is no stranger to offerings. He has wed a god; he worshiped for nigh a millennium and will worship for millennia still.
He has never received offerings like this. As a king, he receives tribute. Some of the living even worship Crimson Rain Sought Flower.
As a child, he was not welcome to attend the ceremonies honoring his own ancestors, nor would he want to. Then he died, and no one cared. No one ever made offerings to him as a ghost. He had no living family.
Xie Lian burns joss paper in his name and Hua Cheng startles badly, able to feel it.
“Is this how gege feels when he receives a prayer?” Hua Cheng croaks, then clears his throat.
“Ah, my sweet husband.” Xie Lian’s eyes dance. “I wonder how this gege will celebrate Qingming? My beloved has no tomb. His ashes are with me. I suppose I could sweep my own shrine?”
“Gege.” Hua Cheng says, pouting. “That doesn’t even make sense. You’re older than me. Dianxia bullies this poor worshipper.”
“Dianxia honors his dearly departed husband.” Xie Lian corrects, smiling widely.
It would be kinder if it were a joke, but for all his good cheer– Xie Lian is clearly not joking. He took Zhongyuan, the festival for honoring one’s dead family members, and used the opportunity to honor Hua Cheng.
“Killing me.” Hua Cheng whines, unable to handle it. “Killing your poor husband.”
“Ah, but my poor husband is already dead! San Lang, eat. It’s the first time you’ve been offered proper honor by your family.” He clapped his hands together, eyes squeezed shut. “This household is thankful to venerate Hua Cheng, who watches over us from the afterlife.”
“Gege.” Hua Cheng stares, composure completely shaken.
“And further, we honor the spirit Wuming, who guarded us in times of great peril, and our young family member Hong Hong-er, who died too soon.”
“Gege, please.” Hua Cheng begs, cheeks burning. He doesn’t even have blood; it should be impossible.
“No, nope, gege will not be swayed. The dead of our family will be honored.”
“What about gege’s parents?” Hua Cheng asks desperately. Usually he would not mention anything that could make Xie Lian sad, but he has little choice.
“All of my ancestors from Xianle have already been venerated today.” Xie Lian says firmly, eyes still closed, hands still clasped. He opens one eye to see if Hua Cheng is cooperating, only to see a very uncooperative ghost.
“Pray San Lang finds the offering sufficient?” Xie Lian says, blinking in concern, and Hua Cheng knows it’s asked purely to get a certain response out of him– he is very aware, and yet.
Who is he to deny Dianxia the response he wishes out of this humble servant?
“Dianxia has provided more than sufficient offering for this lowly spirit.” Hua Cheng says immediately, finally turning his eye to the food in front of him. He was planning to shove some of the food into his mouth as proof, but his hand hesitates when he sees just what is offered.
Some parts of the world offer vegetarian dishes for Zhongyuan. Some offer certain types of meat, some certain spirit-suppressing food– but for the household spirits, invited in for a respectful meal, it is traditional to serve their favorites.
Hua Cheng’s favorite food is “any food Dianxia cooked” so he would be happy with anything.
“San Lang?” Dianxia asks, in real concern, but Hua Cheng’s throat is too tight to reassure him as he stares. Breath shaky, he picks up a slice of fruit and brings it to his lips.
It’s a burst of instant sweetness, flavorful and ripe on his tongue– as impossible and lovely as it was when he was starving, stubbornly, to his near-death in Huangji temple.
Xie Lian bid him eat then, and Xie Lian bids him eat now, and Hua Cheng’s teeth sink through the flesh with equal reverence.
“My god.” He whispers.
“My ghost.” Xie Lian says, then stutters. “My husband, I mean. My sweet husband. San Lang, you’re not supposed to say ‘ghost’ on Zhongyuan.” He complains, laughing at his own faux pass.
Hua Cheng composes himself shakily, offering Xie Lian a smile.
“Gege, that rule is only so you don’t draw in any wandering spirits. Surely gege is not afraid?”
“Oh! The only wandering spirit I want to draw in is already here!” Xie Lian exclaims, delighted by the word play. Hua Cheng chokes quietly on his fruit. “And we even met on Zhongyuan. Well, for certain varieties of ‘met’. You know what I mean! Ah, San Lang, you were so cheeky! I wondered if you were a– you know– and it was Zhongyuan! Of course I was suspicious.”
“Gege was suspicious because he had met me on Yu Jun mountain.” Hua Cheng says. “He thought I was myself, not some random wandering spirit. If this San Lang remembers correctly, gege did not even know the day– he was very surprised when we found out!”
“San Lang, save me some face! Surely I was worried you were a spirit because of the date.”
“Gege suspected Crimson Rain Sought Flower was interested in him. Gege did so many tests, well after Zhongyuan ended.” Hua Cheng flutters his eyelashes, letting his voice tease with the lilting youthful tones he’d adopted back then.
Xie Lian waved his hands out in front of him in denial, enjoying the game.
“No, no!” He thought for a second, visibly trying to come up with an excuse to Hua Cheng’s delight. “San Lang, it was still Guiyue!”
He put one fist into his open palm, victorious.
“You see, San Lang, if you were a wandering ghost I met during Zhongyuan, you could have hung around for good! Ghosts get attached, you know!”
“Mn.” Hua Cheng purrs. “I do know.”
He lets lasciviousness settle into his expression, gazing at Xie Lian with all the hunger he feels despite the feast spread out before him. He is not hungry for food.
“Ah, San Lang! Look, I also made buns!”
“So I see.” Hua Cheng allowed, sprawling out to get more comfortable. His dead heart squeezed.
“It’s because we have so much history with buns, San Lang! On the ox cart, back then, and even in the Gambler’s Den.”
“Gege got it exactly right.” Hua Cheng praises. “San Lang loves everything gege cooks, but buns are especially delicious, and very portable.”
Xie Lian glows under the praise and Hua Cheng feels incredibly satisfied. His purpose in life is to please his god. God-Pleasing Crown Prince? No, gege owed nothing to those worthless officials. Crown Prince-Pleasing Crimson Rain, however– that had a better ring to it.
Hua Cheng sees that Xie Lian has even prepared a reasonable approximation of the dish he first made, that day in Puqi shrine– the first food from Dianxia’s hands that Hua Cheng had the pleasure to taste.
His throat threatens to close again, so he has to focus on what Xie Lian is saying– always pay attention to the words of Dianxia– to push such silly feelings aside.
Finally, as they talk and enjoy their dinner, Xie Lian stands. They do the dishes together at Hua Cheng’s insistence– he will be damned if Xie Lian is a servant to him of all people– and despite Xie Lian’s gentle teasing that spirits invited in for the ghost festival are supposed to be honored all night.
“All night, gege says?” Hua Cheng allows his voice to rumble in that particular way that makes Xie Lian swallow harshly, and perhaps, if he is very lucky, shiver.
“Oh, San Lang. That’s right.” Xie Lian’s eyes flit over at him as they dry the last plate. Mischief dances at his mouth even as he tries to appear nonchalant. Hua Cheng loves this god.
“Hmm? Gege has remembered something else?”
“Mn.” Xie Lian grins, moving to check Hua Cheng’s hip with his own, in the casual playfulness of married couples. Hua Cheng will worship him until he is dust on the wind. “You see, there’s something else I remembered about Zhongyuan.”
“Oh? Pray Dianxia educate this humble servant.” He wraps his arms around Xie Lian, breathing the words into his ear, swaying them lightly.
Xie Lian’s hands come up to hold Hua Cheng’s around his waist, leaning into his chest with perfect trust.
“San Lang.” Xie Lian smiles, wide and unafraid, looking up at him from where his head rests on Hua Cheng’s shoulder. “Did you know? You’re not supposed to wear red on Zhongyuan.”
“My mistake, gege.” Hua Cheng’s lips brush his god’s temple, press lovingly against his hair. “This husband will correct it at once.”
“San Lang!” Xie Lian laughs, but Hua Cheng is already sweeping him off his feet, and carrying him to the bedroom. He doesn’t protest, and in fact lets himself be held, kicking his feet with unbridled joy.
Only when I met you, did I discover what a simple thing it is to be happy, Xie Lian had told him, and those words alone are enough to sustain him for a hundred thousand more years, if not through eternity.
He breathes his god close and tries to find words and kisses enough to tell Xie Lian that the feeling is so much more than mutual.