#guanshan

my lover's the sunlight

the heavens opened and the rain fell with a crash. first, soft gasps of disbelief resonated throughout homes. they’re swiftly followed by rushed, excited demands to “look outside!” then come the cries of joy and barks of laughter, which erupt into jubilant cheering.

hetian weaves in between the heavy grey clouds pregnant with rain as he casts his satisfied gaze down at the celebrating mortals. he’s exhausted, and he longs for his nest back in the celestial plane. my exertions have been worth it, he thinks, because the mortals are coming out of their homes now. they’re enveloping one another in arms, they’re singing, and their bare feet are light as they stamp footprints into the wet earth. they sing of the return of flowing rivers, bountiful harvest, quenched livestock and strong health, and they weep in regret and sympathy for the dead who could not celebrate the end of the drought with them. hetian weeps for them too, and his tears fall through the sky, the mist, the air; and into the trembling, cupped palms of the emperor himself.

the young emperor, who has grown ten years older over the past year, brought his wrists to his lips and carefully downs the dragon’s tears into his mouth, relishing every drop of precious rainwater. he wipes his lips with his sleeve as he sucks the sweetness that lingers on his tongue. as he gazes out at the curtain of rain falling in front of him, he feels the wetness hit his cheeks and his robes as if to wake him from a dream. this isn’t a dream, this is the work of the heavenly gods, he thinks. the emperor feels something rise in his throat and he quickly whips around and returns to his quarters before his servants, who have drunk their fill and are now engaging in a reckless game of spitting rivulets at one another right in his courtyard, could catch him.

safe and alone in his quarters, the emperor falls to his knees and cries into his palms. he sobs out “thank you”, chanting reverently. he must find a way to speak directly to the gods that saved them. he will devote his life to seek them out if he has to. he has begged before, and one god listened. he begs again now, and the same god listens. and so, the black dragon, despite the exhaustion weighing on his limbs and the pull of sleep dragging on his mind, snakes into the emperor’s quarters through the open window and lands in a coil right in front of the son of the heavens himself.

the emperor mo guanshan asked for an audience with the god who saved them, and now he shall have it.

---

“please, be on your feet,” hetian consoles, hurrying as fast as he can on his unstable human feet to the emperor. he holds guanshan’s arms, which are folded in front of his bowed head in a gesture of obeisance, and gently supports him to his feet.

“my lord, you are as benevolent as you are-” the emperor bites his tongue when he finally raises his head and realises the inappropriately narrow distance between him and the dragon-god. he takes a hasty step back and reverts to his posture of obeisance, casting his eyes to the ground. he continues, “you are as benevolent as you are mighty.

“my people and i will praise your name for the rest of our lives. i promise every home will erect an altar in your honourable name, every temple will be devoted to no other god. our children and their children will spread your-”

“enough,” the dragon interrupts. “please, raise your head.”

guanshan hesitates, but does as he is told, slowly raising his eyes from the hem of dragon’s black robes, up his endlessly long legs, skipping hastily over the sheerness of his haphazard top, and finally meets his dark, sharp eyes. guanshan immediately wants to cast his gaze back down again, but he holds it obediently. he mustn’t disappoint his god any further.

“wonderful,” hetian murmurs, stepping closer to the emperor. “you haven’t requested from me what would please me, yet you’re already making offers?”

guanshan swallows. he cannot read the god’s tone. he doesn’t look unhappy or enraged because he has a smile on his pale lips, but he doesn’t look satisfied either. he is clearly bone-tired, and guanshan berates himself for his impetuousness, how could he waste his lord’s time when he could instead be resting? the black dragon is indeed benevolent to listen yet again to his prayers. he will never be able to repay him in this lifetime.

“i- i offer my life and soul to you,” the emperor concedes. yes, that is the highest offer he can give. there is nothing more valuable than the emperor’s own soul. the descendent of the heavens, born from the first ray of sun, with a blaze in his hair that rivals the colour of flames, there’s nothing more precious to the mortals on earth than their emperor. the dragon’s smile widens, signifying his satisfaction with the bid, so guanshan edges on confidently, “and my sister’s hand in marriage.” the emperor misses the very discrete twitch of the dragon’s eyebrow. “the finest of all warriors, the fairest of all maidens, the wisest of all storytellers. i- i will have to speak to her immediately so we can begin to discuss wedding preparations.” the last bit came out awkwardly. guanshan has yet to ask his dear sister, but he is sure she will be more than overjoyed to wed the dragon, their god and saviour.

the dragon quietly observes the emperor, and then he sighs deep and aggrieved. he covers the distance between them in one fell swoop and takes the emperor’s face in his large, warm hands, making the young man suddenly aware of his wet eyes and tear-streaked cheeks. his face burns, ashamed that his god is laying his graceful fingers on weakness like this.

“i am restless, so i shall be direct, my jewel,” the dragon purrs. “i have eagerly responded to your pleas a second time as i carried the assumption of a greater reward… of course, i responded to your first plea because i was moved by your earnestness and desired to help your people, but i was also motivated by my yearning for something only you can offer me.”

the dragon said he would be direct, but he still hasn’t uttered his true wishes. guanshan doesn’t condescend, of course, to the god, because his god is as humble as he is gracious.

“please,” guanshan puts on his most determined of looks. “i do not deserve to be spoken so equally to, my lord. i should be struck for how i have discomforted you to speak freely.” guanshan makes to pull away from the god’s hands, which but hold him tight.

“i assumed you would offer yourself as my bride.”

the roar of the rain outside carries on. the emperor’s subjects crow with delight and sing praise of the emperor and the god who saved them as they wade knee-deep in a flood. the rivers gurgle and flush with the nectar of the skies. guanshan’s eyes are bordered by tears and his cheeks are damp, and yet...