Chapter Text
Yin Yu was not a civil god, and it shows.
He had never been especially fit, at least when compared to other martial gods, but that certainly doesn’t mean he's incapable. Especially not now. Not when he’s sprinting down the streets of Ghost City, narrowly avoiding people in his haste.
He cuts past one lady, acutely aware of her exasperated gasp as he passes. Normally, he would offer some muttered apology. Normally, he wouldn’t draw any form of attention to himself at all. But as the crowd divides to make room for him, he can’t bring himself to care.
He eventually skids to a stop inn front of a large pavilion that he knows all too well. He nearly trips over himself then, and a few ghosts pause and give him spared looks, but he only gives them a curt glance before running inside.
Yin Yu really hadn’t planned on this. Earlier that day, when he received a knock on the doors of Paradise Manor, he hadn’t expected it to be some brash woman, rudely welcoming herself in. He also hadn’t expected her to flirt with him so shamelessly. Really, right there in Hua Cheng’s residence!
Most of all, Yin Yu hadn’t expected her to be the key to something both he and Hua Cheng had been trying to solve for decades. Truly, fate has a strange way of working.
Yin Yu is leaning against the wall now, trying to ignore the blaring crowd that is adding to his growing migraine. He slips a hand under his mask, wiping at sweat gathering at his forehead.
He can see him now. He’s not sure what has Hua Cheng in such a sociable mood, but he’s centered in the crowd, betting with whatever ghosts are stupid enough to do so. Yin Yu’s been with him long enough to know he never loses a bet.
Despite being his ‘closest’ servant, Yin Yu knows better than anyone that Hua Cheng is a loner. He handles most of his duties on his own, only sending Yin Yu when he feels as though he has better things to do. Even in his home, he is rarely seen, as Yin Yu learned painfully. Hua Cheng stalks around paradise manor like a house cat, except unlike a house cat, he could tear you limb from limb if he simply chose to. He lives up to the unpredictable nature he built for himself.
He’s wearing a form that Yin Yu vaguely recalls seeing before; one that radiates a sort of wild energy. It’s fitting, he thinks. He’s sitting with his leg hoisted up by his torso and has a hand toying with a bead in his hair; A habit Yin Yu has long come to recognize as boredom.
He’s snapped out of his thoughts when Hua Cheng’s eyes glance around the room, eventually landing on him. He quirks an eyebrow up, an obvious annoyance in his gaze, and waits for Yin Yu to respond.
And he does. He knows better than to keep him waiting. He scoots himself off the wall, breaking through the crowd to stand next to Hua Cheng. The other ghosts don’t say anything, assuming he’s one of the gambling den’s many workers. Hua Cheng speaks first, voice hushed, resting his chin on his hand.
“Why are you here?”
Yin Yu internally grimaces. This already wasn’t off to a good start.
“We should speak somewhere private, my lord.”
Hua Cheng’s eyebrows furrow at that, as if considering it. He reaches out then, rolling a die in his hand. The crowd’s cheers grow louder. Yin Yu pales.
“Please, my lord. You’ll understand-”
“It can wait.”
Another roll. More cheers. Yin Yu squeezes his eyes shut, ignoring the pounding in his head. The building nausea in his stomach.
“...It really can’t-”
Hua Cheng puts his hand up, rudely cutting him off. He then goes back to his game, leaving Yin Yu standing there, boiling.
He watches for a while, as Hua Cheng plays back and forth, ignoring Yin Yu’s presence. He feels like a child, standing there and progressively getting more irritated as he watches him play like their conversation hadn’t happened. This is possibly the biggest news that he will ever get, and he had brushed him off like it was nothing.
All regards for his own well-being aside, he speaks again. “My lord.”
Hua Cheng promptly ignores him.
“My. Lord.”
...
Yin Yu breathes in.
“Hua Cheng.”
Hua Cheng stills, hand mid-roll. None of the other ghosts had seemed to hear him just now, but can sense that something is wrong. It quiets down in the gambler’s den.
Hua Cheng turns so he’s facing Yin Yu, who is suddenly thankful for the mask he is wearing. He’s sure that he must be sweating bullets by now. For a while, nothing could be heard by small whispers. Hua Cheng breaks the silence first.
“...Are we on first name basis now, Yin Yu?”
Yin Yu clenches his jaw, which isn’t doing his migraine any favors, but that's the least of his concerns right now. He’s too focused on not throwing up. Or not fainting. Either works.
Yin Yu is suddenly aware that the spiritual energy around him is thick enough to drink; too choke on. Yin Yu resists the urge to cover his mouth, instead forcing his fists tighter. Hua Cheng is glowering now. Even in this form, his gaze is just as piercing.
They’re waiting on him to speak. He knows it. Every ghost is staring at him, anxiously waiting for his next move. When he glances around, they follow his movement. He wasn’t aware he had that much power over this. Over how this all goes.
It’s a new feeling he’s not used to. An indescribable thrill of being the one that affected people in such a way.
With newfound confidence, he speaks.
“I’ve found the Crown Prince of Xianle.”