Work Text:
The atmosphere in the Sect Leader's office at Lotus Pier was a masterpiece of suffocating, aggressively domestic tension.
Jiang Cheng was sitting behind his massive ironwood desk, buried under a literal mountain of autumn harvest reports. His face was set in its permanent, deeply ingrained scowl, his jaw tight enough to crack walnuts.
Zidian sparked softly, rhythmically, against his knuckle, a metronome of his thinly veiled patience.
Hovering directly over his right shoulder, exuding an aura of frantic, clingy devotion, was the Lord Wind Master.
For the past two weeks, ever since a certain Ghost King had casually declared Jiang Wanyin his "absolute favorite mortal" at a local teahouse, Shi Qingxuan had been acting like a highly territorial guard dog, refusing to leave the Sect Leader's side.
"Jiang-xiong, your tea is getting cold," Shi Qingxuan fussed, immediately snatching the porcelain cup from the desk. "Let me reheat that for you! A perfectly temperate tea for my absolute, undisputed, number-one best friend in the Three Realms!" A gentle pulse of warm spiritual wind heated the cup, and Shi Qingxuan set it back down with a bright, slightly manic smile. "There! Only the best for my best friend."
Jiang Cheng didn't look up from his ledger. He simply dipped his brush in ink. "If you call me your best friend one more time, Qingxuan, I am going to have my disciples throw you into the lake with a stone tied to your ankle."
"You don't mean that," Shi Qingxuan gasped, clutching their chest dramatically. "We have a bond! A deep, unbreakable bond forged in mud and spite! I let you braid my hair! You threatened to break General Pei's arm for me! We are practically soulmates!"
"I threatened to break his arm because he sneezed near my new silk shipments," Jiang Cheng corrected flatly, aggressively turning a page. "And I only braided your hair because you wouldn't stop whining about the humidity. Now sit down and be quiet. I have to calculate the Lanling tax exemptions."
"I can help! Best friends help with taxes!"
"You don't even know how mortal currency works! Last week you tried to pay a street vendor with a solid block of gold for a single steamed bun!"
Before Shi Qingxuan could defend their financial choices, the temperature in the Sect Leader's office plummeted.
The warm afternoon sunlight filtering through the open veranda doors seemed to dim, swallowed by a sudden, unnatural shadow. The faint, crystalline chiming of silver bells echoed through the room, not from Jiang Cheng’s waist, but from the air itself.
A flurry of glowing, spectral silver butterflies fluttered lazily through the open doorway.
Shi Qingxuan immediately stiffened. The Wind Master snapped their fan open, dropping into a protective, highly defensive martial stance directly in front of Jiang Cheng’s desk. "No! Absolutely not! We are closed! The sect is closed!"
"Sect Leader Jiang," a smooth, silken voice drawled, completely ignoring the screaming deity. "Still drowning in parchment, I see. A tragedy. Someone of your unique talents should not be chained to a desk."
Stepping out of the swarm of butterflies, radiating terrifying Supreme power, was Hua Cheng. The Ghost King was dressed in his signature crimson maple silks, a silver scimitar resting on his hip, and a deeply amused, highly predatory smirk on his handsome face.
Jiang Cheng finally stopped writing. He slowly closed his eyes, took a deep, shuddering breath, and let it out. He pinched the bridge of his nose. "Gods and ghosts, grant me the strength not to commit a massacre in my own office. What do you want, Crimson Rain?"
"Just passing through," Hua Cheng lied effortlessly, strolling into the room as if he owned it. He approached the desk, his singular dark eye flashing with mischief. "I heard a rumor that my favorite mortal was suffering under the weight of end-of-quarter accounting. I thought I might offer some assistance."
"He doesn't need your assistance!" Shi Qingxuan shrieked, aggressively stepping into Hua Cheng’s path, practically vibrating with territorial rage. "I am already helping him! And he is not your favorite mortal! You can't just come in here and claim him! He's my best friend! Go away!"
Hua Cheng stopped. He looked down at the Wind Master, his expression shifting from casual amusement to cold, mocking disdain. "Ah. The Wind Master. Still playing at being a mortal's pet? How quaint. I wasn't aware Sect Leader Jiang had adopted a stray."
"I am a Supreme Deity of the Heavenly Court!" Shi Qingxuan yelled, pointing their fan accusingly at the Ghost King's chest. "And excuse you, I found him first! I took him to your tacky casino! I suffered through his boot camp! You just like him because he bankrupted you!"
"I like him," Hua Cheng corrected, his voice dropping into a dangerous, silken purr as he met Shi Qingxuan's glare, "because he possesses the sheer spite required to challenge the heavens and the underworld simultaneously. He is a masterpiece of rage. You merely hover around him because you lack a spine of your own."
"You take that back! I judo-threw General Pei!"
"A minor accomplishment."
"I will judo-throw you!"
Jiang Cheng stared at the two most powerful, terrifying beings in the Three Realms as they bickered like toddlers in the middle of his office.
"I bought him a fleet of ships!" Shi Qingxuan argued fiercely.
"I gave him the deeds to four haunted mansions," Hua Cheng countered smoothly, crossing his arms.
"I know his tea order! He likes it bitter and scalding, just like his personality!"
"I know his exact threshold for breaking a man's femurs. I know his preferred method of tax evasion. I know the exact frequency of his lightning whip." Hua Cheng leaned forward, a dark, victorious smirk on his face. "I respect his violence. You just want to dress him up in purple silk and play house."
"He looks good in purple silk!" Shi Qingxuan defended hysterically.
"ENOUGH!"
The roar shook the very foundations of Lotus Pier.
CRACK-BOOM. Zidian lashed out like a striking viper, the violent purple lightning shattering a solid bronze incense burner exactly halfway between Hua Cheng and Shi Qingxuan. The deafening thunderclap instantly silenced the room.
Both the Wind Master and the Ghost King snapped their heads toward the desk.
Jiang Cheng had risen from his chair. His eyes were glowing with fury. His spiritual pressure was so immense, so purely concentrated with exasperation and spite, that the air in the room actually began to crackle and warp.
"I do not care," Jiang Cheng snarled, his voice a lethal, vibrating rumble that made the wooden floorboards shake, "who found me first. I do not care who respects my violence or who likes my tea! I am not a stray dog, I am not a prize to be won, and I am certainly not a toy for either of your endless, immortal boredom!"
Shi Qingxuan shrank back, lowering their fan. "Jiang-xiong, we were just—"
"Shut up!" Jiang Cheng barked. He pointed a sparking, furious finger at the Wind Master. "You! You have been hovering over my shoulder for two weeks, breathing down my neck, and aggressively braiding my hair every time I try to read a scroll! It is incredibly distracting!"
Shi Qingxuan’s lower lip trembled. "But... best friends..."
Jiang Cheng whipped his hand around, pointing directly at Hua Cheng’s chest. The Ghost King didn't flinch, though his single eye widened slightly at the audacity. "And YOU! You are a Supreme Ghost King! Do you not have a city to run? Do you not have an economy to manage? Why are you materializing in my office one afternoon just to antagonize an elemental god?! Go bother your husband!"
"San Lang," Hua Cheng corrected smoothly, unfazed by the screaming mortal. In fact, he looked delighted. "And my husband is currently discussing architectural reforms with the Earth Master. I was bored."
"THEN FIND A HOBBY!" Jiang Cheng roared, throwing his hands up in the air. "Because I am trying to run a sect! I have three hundred disciples to feed! I have trade routes to secure! I have the Lanling Jin sect breathing down my neck about silk imports! I just want to run my sect normally, and I want both of you to leave me alone!"
Silence stretched across the office.
Jiang Cheng panted slightly, the lightning of Zidian slowly receding as he glared at the two immortals. He expected them to leave. He expected Shi Qingxuan to cry and flee to the heavens. He expected Hua Cheng to scoff, turn into butterflies, and vanish.
Instead, Shi Qingxuan and Hua Cheng slowly looked at each other.
Then, they looked at the massive mountain of paperwork on Jiang Cheng's desk.
"Trade routes, you say?" Hua Cheng murmured, his eye narrowing thoughtfully. He stepped up to the desk, completely ignoring Jiang Cheng's murderous glare, and picked up a scroll detailing the Lanling Jin silk tariffs. He skimmed it for two seconds and sneered. "This is amateur extortion. Jin Guangshan is trying to undercut your shipping lanes by monopolizing the eastern river tolls."
Jiang Cheng blinked, derailed by the sudden shift in topic. "I know that. I've been trying to find a legal loophole for three days."
"Why use the law when you can use ghosts?" Hua Cheng smirked, casually tossing the scroll back onto the desk. "I can have the Water Ghouls of the eastern river blockade Lanling's merchant ships by tomorrow morning. They won't be able to move a single bolt of silk without paying my toll, which I will happily transfer to you. At a very reasonable interest rate, of course."
Jiang Cheng stared at him. The ruthless efficiency of the plan resonated deeply with his Yunmeng soul. "...You can do that?"
"He's trying to buy your affection with organized crime!" Shi Qingxuan gasped, thoroughly offended.
The Wind Master immediately slammed their hands onto the desk, leaning aggressively into Jiang Cheng's space. "I can do better! Jiang-xiong, I control the weather! I can summon a localized, highly targeted monsoon over Koi Tower! It will rain exclusively on Jin Guangshan's personal pavilion for the next six months! He'll be so depressed he'll sign whatever trade agreement you want!"
Jiang Cheng looked at Shi Qingxuan. Then he looked at Hua Cheng.
The two most powerful, chaotic entities in his life were actively weaponizing their divine and demonic domains to help him commit tax fraud and political sabotage.
Jiang Cheng slowly sank back down into his heavy ironwood chair. The furious scowl on his face did not vanish, but the sharp, murderous edge softened into something that looked like dangerous calculation.
He tapped his chin.
"A monsoon," Jiang Cheng mused softly, "would ruin the Jin sect's outdoor banquets. But a ghost blockade would cripple their liquid assets."
"Why not both?" Hua Cheng offered smoothly, leaning against the edge of the desk. "A flooded palace and a starved treasury. A perfect symphony of misery."
"I call dibs on the monsoon!" Shi Qingxuan cheered brightly, immediately summoning a miniature storm cloud over their palm. "I'm going to make sure the lightning strikes exclusively near his favorite golden peony garden! I'm your best friend, Jiang-xiong, I will ruin his landscaping for you!"
Jiang Cheng looked at the two of them. They were still glaring at each other, the territorial rivalry simmering just beneath the surface. But now, it had been aggressively redirected toward his political enemies.
Jiang Cheng let out a long, slow sigh. He picked up his inkbrush.
"Fine," Jiang Cheng said, dipping the brush into the inkwell. He pulled out a fresh sheet of parchment. "If you are both going to stubbornly squat in my office like a pair of feral cats, you are going to make yourselves useful. Crimson Rain, draft the territorial blockade borders. If your ghouls touch a single Yunmeng vessel, I am billing Paradise Manor for the damages."
Hua Cheng’s smirk widened into a terrifying grin. "Understood, Sect Leader."
"Wind Master," Jiang Cheng continued, not looking up. "Calculate the exact wind velocity needed to blow the roof tiles off Koi Tower without damaging the structural foundation. I don't want to pay for a rebuild, I just want them to suffer."
"On it!" Shi Qingxuan saluted enthusiastically, grabbing a spare brush and pulling a ledger toward them. "You won't regret this, Jiang-xiong! I am the best assistant in the world!"
"You're an idiot," Hua Cheng noted casually, pulling up a chair. "Your wind velocity is going to be entirely off without factoring in the humidity of the region."
"Shut up, Crimson Rain! I am the literal god of wind!"
"And yet, you possess nothing but hot air."
"I will flood your casino!"
"Both of you shut up and calculate!" Jiang Cheng barked, though he didn't summon Zidian this time.
Jiang Cheng watched as the Supreme Ghost King and the Lord Wind Master aggressively hunched over his trade ledgers, fiercely competing to see who could financially ruin the Lanling Jin Sect faster.
He took a sip of his perfectly temperate tea, a sharp, deeply satisfied smirk finally settling onto his face.
Immortals were incredibly annoying, yes. But weaponizing a divine and demonic custody battle to handle his paperwork? That was just good sect management.