Chapter Text
Xie Lian had to admit it: he was extremely nervous.
Even now, that was perfectly obvious to anyone who might glance at him, shaking hands fidgeting with the sleeves of his robes.
What they didn’t know was why.
Under normal circumstances, nearly everyone in the area surrounding Gambler’s Den would be tripping over themselves to find out what was wrong with their Granduncle, and clamor to win his favor. But Xie Lian had taken great pains to prevent immediate recognition. His robes were new, and while they weren’t extravagant, they were embellished with fine embroidery (red and silver, of course) in a way that his usual plain cultivation robes didn’t quite match up to. His hair had been taken out of its usual style and allowed to flow freely over his shoulders. And lastly (but most importantly), a mask obscured his features from those around him...
And carried an echo of the masks he had worn hundreds of years in the past.
Xie Lian paced near the entrance of Gambler’s Den, desperately trying to work up the nerve to actually go in, and scolding himself when he wouldn’t.
Silly, silly! It’s not as if I’ve never been inside before!
But he knew it was different this time. When he walked through that door, the game would begin. For a short amount of time, he was no longer Hua Cheng’s doted-upon husband.
He was prey.
When the idea had first been introduced, his San Lang had looked at Xie Lian like he had performed (or was) some divine miracle.
“Gege, that’s...” his husband breathed in wonder, “Gege, are you sure?”
Though his face felt as strong as wet paper, Xie Lian nodded vigorously.
“Yes, San Lang. I’m sure.” he rubbed the back his neck nervously, but forced himself to continue. “It’s something this husband has been considering for some time, and I... I thought San Lang might like it.”
Hua Cheng scooped up his god’s hand and kissed it reverently. “This humble servant,” he murmured, nuzzling against the hand like a cat, “could have no greater desire than to fulfill Dianxia’s wish.”
“Ah, but San Lang,” Xie Lian protested, “do you like it? Is it something you’re interested in for yourself, and not just because it’s my idea?”
After all, his San Lang had never been very good at refusing Xie Lian anything; which (while very sweet most of the time) caused him great concern when it came to their, ahem, intimate life. How could he live with himself if he caused his beloved’s unhappiness, all done in the name of his own pleasure? He would rather tear out his own heart and stomp on it, and it would be no less than he would deserve.
But looking at San Lang, he certainly didn’t look unhappy right now. His singular dark eye was filled with heat, and his lips parted slightly. A glance downward found his hands trembling. Wild and hungry, he looked like he wanted to devour Xie Lian whole.
“Oh yes, Dianxia. I am very, very interested.”
The game (when Xie Lian could stop blushing long enough to think about it) was quite simple:
Xie Lian was to come to Gambler’s Den, pretending to be the priest of a great shrine fallen on hard times.
He would then challenge Hua Cheng in order to save his imaginary shrine.
The most important part?
He was going to lose.
And once he lost, well... That was when the next part of the game could begin. The part that made his insides squirm and his face catch fire to think about. He had been worshipped by his husband in nearly every conceivable way (and quite a few inconceivable). But that wasn’t going to happen tonight.
No... tonight, he would service the whims of the dreaded Ghost King, Crimson Rain Sought Flower.
He startled when a scream pierced the air from deep inside the opulent building, followed by uproarious laughter.
Alright. Enough stalling. His face wasn’t getting any thicker from imagining the game instead of playing it. He released a shaky breath, then squared his shoulders.
The unnamed priest of the derelict shrine stepped through the doorway of the infamous Gambler’s Den, and the game...
Had begun.