Chapter Text
When Yin Yu first met Hua Cheng, he was flung to the floor at his feet.
There was no proper ghost city, back then; there was only a moving town of tents, crudely built, teeming with vulgar shouts and paper money flung here and there.
The unruly gathering created trouble wherever it was established. It moved every time it was threatened, which was often. Naturally, it wasn’t a pleasant or stable place to live, by any stretch of the imagination—but it had something that ghosts were seldom offered: it was safe. This would have seemed impossible, given the population: half were roughened, violent ghosts, on the run from who-knows-what, and half were vulnerable spirits with nowhere else to turn. In any other place, this combination would be a recipe for disaster.
Not here, though.
Here, no one dared.
It had started as a small group of ghosts who followed Hua Cheng.
It was here that Yin Yu had run into trouble. He had tried to slip into this bizarre city of tents, just to disappear for a bit, desperate to escape the—
“WE FOUND ONE, MILORD!” a ghost shrieked out, tossing Yin Yu unceremoniously onto the ground. Yin Yu coughed, as he was thrown into sand; the tent city was currently set up in the desert, and the gritty taste of it had long worked its way into his mouth. “Cursed shackle, just like milord is looking for!”
The others cackled. “So lucky, so lucky!”
“Look how tender he looks! Would my Lord like to eat him?”
“I wonder what a cursed shackle tastes like—”
“We almost missed him! He hides well, it’s like he’s not there at all!”
Hua Cheng was facing away, towards the other side of the roomy tent. It was the biggest in the camp, and it echoed with his voice—
“Shut up.”
Everyone shut up. Then:
“He’s not the one I’m looking for.”
A chill was in the air; none of the ghosts dared speak—until Hua Cheng went on:
“But you’ve done me a service. I’ll remember. Continue to search.”
This was enough for the ghosts, who burst into cheers.
“YEAH, THANK YOU MILORD!”
“WE’LL LOOK IN EVERY NOOK AND CRANNY—”
“CAN WE TAKE THIS ONE HOME AND PICKLE HIM?”
Yin Yu stared into the ground, miserable, too tired to even wonder about why he’d been brought in or who he’d been mistaken for. Just his luck. If fate wanted him dead, why like this? If Hua Cheng didn’t kill him, the other ghosts would. He was just beginning to wonder if it was worth it to fight back, or whether pickling was an okay way to go, all things considered, when Hua Cheng’s voice came again:
“No. Leave him to me.”
The ghosts didn’t dare question him. They shrank back, bowing and singing praises, until they rushed out the door of the tent.
Yin Yu’s eyes widened, and a bead of sweat went down his neck. He didn’t dare lift his head.
Oh, he was fucked now.
But though he tensed, waiting for the crush of a foot on his neck, nothing came; and finally, he looked up to the sight of Hua Cheng watching him with interest.
“His Highness Yin Yu,” he said, mockingly.
Yin Yu cringed internally. “…my Lord has heard of me…?”
At that, Hua Cheng laughed humorlessly. “Your Lord? You’re not a ghost.”
In a swirl of red robes, Hua Cheng walked nearer, unsheathing his scimitar. He was a little wilder-looking back then; he hadn’t grown into subtlety yet, coloring himself like a poisonous snake would, as a warning: the vambraces were sharp with spikes.
His next words chilled Yin Yu to the bone:
“Give me one good reason to think you’re not here on heavenly orders, that you aren’t trying to gain favor and ascend again. Go on. Persuade me.”
There was no proof. Yin Yu knew there was no proof, so he just sighed. He was so tired, so tired.
“I don’t have any proof,” he mumbled, feeling pitiful. “You can kill me if you want.”
Hua Cheng looked down at him. “What was that?”
Yin Yu sighed heavily, raising his voice and repeating himself politely. “I said, I don’t have any proof, please kill me if you want to.”
When Hua Cheng spoke again, he sounded genuinely amused. “Then why are you here?”
He was going to have to explain himself before being executed? It just kept getting and better better. He inflated his lungs with much effort and breathed out a dry explanation: “My Lord must know that I caused havoc in the heavens, and this led to the deaths of others. Their allies want me dead. I was trying to hide from them here, since I know they don’t dare come here.”
“But you did,” Hua Cheng murmured.
Yin Yu didn’t answer. Hua Cheng went on:
“Do you want to live?”
“I suppose so.”
A mask was thrown at his feet, carved with a sad smile on it.
“Put this on, cover your shackle, and follow me outside. I’m announcing something to the camp, and I don’t want to repeat myself: there’s a big change coming, and I’d like a servant. If you decide you’re willing to follow me, then I’ll take you in. If you decide not to, you have three hours to leave the camp and face your enemies.”
Yin Yu stared at the mask, frozen in shock. Hua Cheng walked past him and spoke again:
“Come, get off the ground. The ghosts won’t kill you if you stay close to me. If you go astray and they catch you, it’s not my fault.”
🎭
Yin Yu stood behind Hua Cheng as he spoke, on a raised platform at the center of the makeshift ghost town.
At first, the ghosts had looked at Yin Yu, and he’d felt the uncomfortable prickle of hundreds of curious eyes; but soon the attention was removed from him, because Hua Cheng had begun to speak.
His command of language was impeccable; Yin Yu now understood how he’d been able to best the civil gods in debate. His speech was rich enough to seem cultured, but simple enough that it could be understood by more uneducated ghosts; his tone was equal parts hopeful and wistful, making one eager and sad in turn; but the sense of power in his words never wavered. For several minutes, under the rapt attention of the ghosts surrounding them, Hua Cheng told of his victories over tyrants and gods alike, sometimes vulgar, sometimes triumphant, sometimes dutiful, leaving space for the raucous cheers that burst forth with every tale—cheers which hushed instantly, when he raised his head to speak again. But he was coming to a point, and the point came:
“No land will welcome you,” he said coolly. “No town will have you settle nearby, no humans will tolerate your presence.” He paused, sweeping his gaze around. “But those that reject you still have the face to crave my power. I’ve received letters from many humans and gods alike, offering me anything to join them. They’ve told me to abandon you and leave you to the desert.”
The crowd erupted with wails—
“HUA CHENGZU! MILORD!”
“PLEASE—”
“WE’LL DO ANYTHING, ANYTHING!”
“We can’t survive without you, oh, what’ll we do—!”
“Silence,” Hua Cheng said quietly.
A dead hush blanketed the gathering.
“I would never bow to trash like that,” he said, clasping his hands behind his back. “But I won’t shepherd you around like this forever, either. It’s too troublesome.”
Gasps of fear sounded all around. The terror was infectious; Yin Yu even felt a pang of it in his own heart, at the threat of safety slipping away which held thick in the air.
“But I’ve found a place,” Hua Cheng said, so quietly that the ghosts didn’t even dare move, for fear of missing a single word. “It’s a land thick with yin energy, a land easily hidden, where we can stop moving and build up a city. I have things I want to do there; I’m going to settle there.”
With that, he’d come to the crux of the speech, and he raised his head:
“If you want to remain with me, obey me, pledge yourselves to me, then you can follow me there. Do me favors, and I’ll return them. Act justly, and you’ll be protected. Be loyal to me, and you’ll be rewarded. And if you don’t…”
He shrugged.
“You can still come.” His voice went smooth and dangerous. “Just don’t expect my protection. And if you cause trouble, your life will end then and there. I don’t like trouble, I’m bored of it. Am I clear?”
The mood from before, the trembling from fear, all poured into anxious gratitude instead. Cheers sounded all around, and the ghosts rushed up to the edges of the platform, raising their hands in fervent praise—
“WE’LL FOLLOW YOU!”
“YES, YES!”
“ANYTHING FOR YA, MILORD—”
“THANK YOU FOR YOUR PROTECTION, THANK YOU, THANK YOU—!”
“Pack your things,” Hua Cheng thundered, his eye blazing. “We leave at dawn.”
He turned to go amidst the cacophony of wild cheers that followed, and the ghosts moved aside to clear a path for him, some of them bowing down to the ground, some of them reaching as though hoping for him to touch them; but Hua Cheng only strode forward, stopping only to direct a glance towards Yin Yu.
Yin Yu stood frozen, dazed from the speech. With that look, however, he snapped out of it and followed him.
When they entered the main tent, the quiet atmosphere replaced the chaos of the outside. Yin Yu stood by, conflicted.
Hua Cheng turned to him and spoke:
“As I said, I need a servant,” he said, his voice flat now, devoid of the lofty emotions of the speech. “It’s your choice. You can ignore the rhetoric I used just now; I don’t expect loyalty from you, I just expect a job well-done. You’ll be compensated for it, just like with any job. If you don’t like it, cut and run whenever, I don’t care. Just don’t betray me, or you’ll pay the price.”
Yin Yu finally let out his breath and laughed quietly.
Hua Cheng raised a brow. “Oh? Is something funny?”
Yin Yu heaved a sigh. “Betray you for what? I don’t have anything to lose, and I don’t want anything, I’m just…”
After a pause, he looked up. He couldn’t have known back then that it was considered quite rude to ask certain things in ghost culture, so he quite plainly said—
“The only thing I want is…to be a good person,” he said quietly. “Or at least, not a bad person. I don’t know why you’re doing any of this, and…and that worries me. So, if I may ask, what’s your goal? What would I be helping you with? You must have a reason to stay.”
Hua Cheng smirked at the faux pas, but only replied: “What do you think?”
“Power,” Yin Yu said. He had no interest in playing dumb; what was obvious was obvious.
“Hm.”
“But—but I don’t know why.”
“Does there need to be a reason?” Hua Cheng said smoothly. “Doesn’t everyone like power? It’s fun to do whatever you want, kill whoever, acquire whatever. What else is power good for?”
Yin Yu didn’t know what to respond to that. Slowly, though, he tried again.
“Revenge,” he said. “It’s good for revenge.”
“That’s true.”
“But you already got your revenge, when you challenged those thirty-three gods. Yet you’re still here.”
“I’m still here,” Hua Cheng agreed.
“Why are you looking for someone with a cursed shackle?”
“I’ll tell you,” Hua Cheng said.
Yin Yu waited.
“If you find him,” Hua Cheng finished. Then he turned away, seemingly having lost interest in the conversation.
Or maybe he didn’t want to talk about it. It was hard to tell.
“Your answer,” Hua Cheng said simply, then. It didn’t seem he would waste any time.
Yin Yu was still conflicted. Still, wild and unpredictable though Hua Cheng was, something told Yin Yu that he wasn’t one to break his word. If Yin Yu didn’t want to do something, he might really just be able to leave. In any case, it wasn’t as though he had much of a choice right now.
He knelt and bowed his head, still hidden behind the mask that would come to define him, and spoke:
“Hua Chengzhu, your orders.”