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Dead Love Doesn't Die
12. Confessions Beneath the Incense Tree

12. Confessions Beneath the Incense Tree

The offering went ahead without issue - with Hao Ning staying silent at first, simply kicking her legs and fawning over her brother. She giggled in that way she was apt to, eyes shutting with all the force of trickling hourglass sand. Eventually, when she began to speak, she did so slowly and deliberately, though the drool in her mouth made it hard. All that food was having quite a powerful effect on the little lady... And she was doing admirably to keep herself from leaping for the pickled plums and dried meats.

Xiao Fan played the middleman, telling Zhichao Tingfeng all the little, mundane things Hao Ning wanted him to know: what a handsome man she thought he had become, how proud she was of him for continuing to fight evildoers, how much it meant to her that he stayed at Tian Lei after all this time... The newest disciple of Tian Lei could tell he was trying hard not to cry again. The way his lips twitched... The way he kept shifting his gaze, his body and face tense, his left eye's lower lid trembled, they all told more than his words ever could.

It was nice, in a way. Seeing him be a bit more mortal, a bit more human... Seeing him removed from that distanced superiority that he had had. Sure, he had never seemed outright arrogant, but it wouldn't take an expert to see just how separate he had considered himself to the common people. He had spoken as if he was never like them; as if he had always been this, a protector, a great warrior, a man of honor and principles. But even the strongest swords bend; even the sturdiest bulwarks will someday break.

A silence came, comfortably placid and warm to accompany the night. The scent of jasmine smoke mingled like an old lover with the aroma of plums and pork, sweet and tangy with that sharp, acidic bite that always came with pickling. Xiao Fan breathed deeply of the perfumed air, drawing in all that her dead lungs could hold, then letting it out through her nose so that it would linger that much longer. Hao Ning giggled at her simei's antics; the ghostly girl put a finger below her left eye and pulled, letting her tongue fall free as well. "Nnyehhhhh~!" Spectral laugher came thereafter, the twinkling of a crisp set of bells played through deep water.

Xiao Fan stuck her tongue right back out - only to realize, moments later and much to her horror, that Zhichao Tingfeng was looking straight at her. She, in turn, would have seemed to be looking straight at him. He couldn't see Hao Ning, after all. Thankfully, respectfully, he said nothing... but from the bemused expression on his face, the damage was already done. Xiao Fan was tempted to give a rude gesture to Hao Ning. The only reason she didn't? She didn't want the same thing to happen twice in a row, falling for the ghostly girl's trap.

Hao Ning began to cackle, falling off of Zhichao Tingfeng and onto her back. Her hands were over her stomach; her legs were kicking without a care; her mouth was wide as ever, whole head jerking haphazardly with her laughter. Xiao Fan rolled her eyes and turned away from her sijie, crossing her arms and putting up a playful smirk. The eldest of the three simply continued to look bemused, casting his own gaze skyward with a gentle humming.

As Hao Ning's laughter died down, and the incense sticks died out and were replaced, the three agreed that it was time for the offering to go through. Gently, gently, pickled plums were placed and wrapped within joss paper. Dried meat joined them therein, with rice as well, and then these joss paper bundles were set within the metal cauldron Zhichao Tingfeng had procured. They were just a bit damp, but that was okay - the kindling in the cauldron itself would see to it that that paper lit up like a martial arts sect. Or, ah... Like a bonfire. Too soon?

Thankfully, Zhichao Tingfeng couldn't hear that joke.

The bundles were placed, and Zhichao Tingfeng drew the candle from his lamp. Just a small flame would be enough to get the joss paper lit, which would fuel the kindling, which would engulf the food and larger logs... Which would then feed Hao Ning. Straightforward, really. The two women watched as he did his work, taking a spare sheet of joss paper and lighting it, then letting it fall into the assorted wood shavings and dried twigs. As the fire began to consume itself and build up towards a blazing crescendo, Hao Ning tapped Xiao Fan on the shoulder. The gesture was unusually timid for the boisterous little ghost lass, and Xiao Fan couldn't help but raise a brow as she turned to consider her sect senior.

Hao Ning's face was one of bashful gratitude. She was blushing, a gesture that a purely spectral body was allowed to perform, and her gaze was lowered to the floorboards. She twiddled her thumbs a bit before making known what she actually wanted from her simei. "Ah, Fan-Fan... Could you, ah... dage, I have something I wanna tell him... Just, uh, ah... Just tell him what I say, ok, simei? Please..." She shifted in her spot, back and forth, wriggling like a worm exposed to the sun. Xiao Fan couldn't help but notice that Hao Ning had called her Fan-Fan. That was odd, but not worth commenting on... Not when she already seemed so uncomfortable.

"Ah, yes. I can do that for you, Ning. What would you like me to say? Maybe just a thanks for still being here, or thank you for the food?" She offers the timid girl a smile, putting a hand out to gently caress Hao Ning's face, offering some semblance of comfort. The younger-yet-older girl doesn't react at first; Xiao Fan initially thinks maybe she just hadn't heard. She opens her mouth to repeat, until the zombie woman realizes her ghostly sect-sibling is simply gathering up the strength to say what she wants to say.

Hao Ning puts a hand up to her own jaw, adjusting it - moving it too far left, then too far right, then back to center. She coughed, then again, then a third time. On the fourth cough, something came free - the wooden needle, still that same blackened color - it was more twisted than before, and thinner, but still recognizable. She set it on the ground between herself and Xiao Fan. Xiao Fan frowned; a feeling of apprehension was rising along her spine, raising her hackles, and setting her on edge. She wasn't sure why Hao Ning needed her needle right now... And every explanation that came to mind seemed less than ideal.

With a deep breath, Hao Ning began, eyes still aimed at the floor - at the needle. "Tell him... Say this. Exactly this, p-please. Say..." She straightened her back then, though her gaze remained low; her whole body visibly tensed, and the words seemed to clog her throat like sludge. "Zhichao Qin. Qin-Qin, my dage... I f-for... I forgive you. I forgive you for all of it, for everything, everything you had to do, e-everything I... Everything I m-made you do!" Tears had begun to form at the corners of Hao Ning's eyes, welling large and strong. The droplets of pent-up emotion trickled down trembling cheeks as she continued, only a handful of them making it to her chin before falling off into nothingness. Ghostly tears don't wet the floorboards, after all.

"I'm sorry that you killed me! I'm sorry I didn't come to you sooner! I'm s-s-s-sorry that... That...! That I let my own cowardice blind me and hold me in its sway! I-I wish I could be here with you now - I wish I could hug you, that I could tell you of all that I've seen, all that I know! That we could p-play Go again, like when we were kids...! I...-!" And there she broke, fully and completely. Her heart had been tearing itself in two the entire time she had been speaking, and here the last thread holding it together was rent asunder. Hao Ning crumbled, shattering into a fractured, fragmented semblance of a person's soul. That is to say, she wept as loudly and powerfully as she could.

Her wailing was strong, so very strong... The candle lights flickered in the room, the sliding doors rattled in their frames, the incense sticks were shaken free of their ashen cherries. Xiao Fan was too shocked by this sudden outpouring of emotion to pay any mind to the physical effects; Zhichao Tingfeng, however, was more in-tune with the physical world than she was. He reached over and put a firm hand on Xiao fan's thigh, frowning not with distaste, but with concern. "Xiao Fan, what happened? Is this Hao Ning? What is she doing - what happened to her? Is she just playing a prank? She was always that sort of-"

The words were struck from him as Xiao Fan's hand rose to meet his face. The blow was not given maliciously; rather, it was delivered unintentionally. What had only been an attempt to silence him so she could fulfill his little sister's wishes was given with too much gusto and too little held back. Xiao Fan gasped in abject horror as she slapped her sifu hard on the cheek, sending him reeling, clutching his face as soon as he hit the floor. He cried out once in surprise and pain, nearly as shocked as Xiao Fan was when she saw that she had sucker-punched her martial master.

Hao Ning only cried and screamed harder at this, seeing her brother getting pummeled. The howling of a ghost is one of the most terrible sounds one can ever hear, how it warps the world around it, resonating through both the spiritual and physical planes... It was giving Xiao Fan a terrible headache, but also, needling her dead heart with very-much-living grief. She wanted nothing more than to make it stop, if not for Hao Ning's sake, then for her own.

"Ah-! Sifu, sifu, I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to-! I-! Ugh, damn it! Hao Ning had something she wanted me to tell you, and she's very sad now! Here, just... Stay there and listen!" She steeled herself to repeat what Hao Ning had dictated to her; she also took the time to remember what Hao Ning had actually said, because after slapping Zhichao Tingfeng, she herself was fairly distraught. She was soothed by the fact that at least it didn't seem she'd badly injured him - perhaps just a bruise, or failing a bruise, a fracture. Nothing permanent.

Zhichao Tingfeng stayed where he was, cradling his face with the same hand as the arm he propped himself up with. His other hand was thrown haphazardly into the air in a vaguely beckoning gesture to Xiao Fan. 'Get on with it', she could imagine him saying - and so she obliged him readily, having run over her own script at least twice in her head at this point.

"Zhichao Qin. Qin-Qin, my dage. I forgive you. I forgive you for all of it, for everything you had to do, everything I made you do... And I'm sorry. I'm sorry that I made you kill me; that I didn't come around sooner, didn't come to you for help. I'm sorry I let my cowardice blind me and hold me in sway. I... I wish I could be there with you now, hugging you, telling you all about what I've seen and learned..." It was beginning to be hard for Xiao Fan to speak; even if it wasn't her confession to make, or her sorrow to bear, it would have taken a heart of solid stone to not be moved. Her icy emotions were far from solid at the moment... Something she both was thankful for, and resentful of. She wished she could just turn them off on a whim.

"I...-! I wish we could play Go like we used to, when we were kids! I love you, dage, and I just wish things were different!" She knew she would feel awful later for ad-libbing that last sentence in; however, it felt necessary. Mandatory. She felt that, if Hao Ning hadn't collapsed on herself mid-sentence, she would have said as much - the further-empowered barrage of tears and phantasmal phlegm on the floor beside her all but confirmed it. The whole grand hall began to quiver, it felt... The floorboards creaked, the dust which lay upon every surface was thrown up, and the cauldron with the burnt offerings nearly toppled. Xiao Fan was able to save that, at least - the hot metal hissed and sizzled where it touched her flesh, but she felt nothing.

In the physical realm, silence reigned above the rumbling, clattering din of the localized earthquake. Zhichao Tingfeng's eyes were watery as he processed what Xiao Fan had told him, finding the strength to push himself up to a sit, and pull himself a bit closer to Xiao Fan. Though the left side of his normally-handsome face was already beginning to swell and darken, he found the inner stability to speak. When he did, in fact, his voice was firm and loud - and his tone was that of a protective older brother, one who must comfort a younger sibling whose heart is breaking before him.

"A-Ning, can you hear me? I love you. I will always love you. You have been the only thing that this life has ever given me; everything else, I have had to reach out and take. Being your dage for the seventeen years you were alive... They were some of the best memories I've ever made." He was crying too, now; his heart had been vulnerable already from the story in the storehouse, and now this? Xiao Fan wished it would have been appropriate to commend him for managing to keep speaking despite it all. Surely the weight was immense, she thought.

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Zhichao Tingfeng swallowed hard, blinking away tears, eyelids pressed hard together. The saline fluid was sent in a burning-hot stream down his face, running as the most sorrowful rivers Xiao Fan had ever seen. They hissed and steamed when they fell into the flames of the offering. "I wish you were here, too. I'm sorry that I couldn't... I'm sorry I could not find a way to dispatch you without killing you. I should have tried harder, a-Ning. I chastise myself every day for not trying harder. But here, now, with Xiao Fan with us... We're closer to one another than we've been in thirty years, a-Ning. That has to mean something. I love you, mei Ning... I had given up all hope of ever getting to speak with you again. This helps me more than either of us will ever know."

The wailing reached its apex, now. Candles had begun to go out all across the hall - even some of the outdoor candles and braziers had their flames set to flicker as they jostled about. Xiao Fan knew she needed to do something, anything, to try and get Hao Ning to stop crying... To save the Tian Lei sect's grand hall, and herself and Zhichao Tingfeng with it. She made the only move she could think of to fill Hao Ning's mouth as quickly as possible.

Right hand holding the scalding metal of the cauldron, her left hand reached in, took out one of the offerings that had fully burnt, and pushed it forcefully into Hao Ning's too-wide mouth.

The wailing stopped immediately as Hao Ning was reminded of the taste of food and the love of her brother. She could have cried anew, if her ethereal grey matter allowed her - instead, where once there was anguish, there was now endorphins. She chewed madly, as if a beaver in a frenzy - her whole mouth working, jaw grinding the burnt foodstuffs into carbonic paste of sour and sweet and salty and bitter. Even once it had been reduced to absolute mush she continued, abusing the single offering until it was rendered into something closer to a liquid than a true solid.

Zhichao Tingfeng continued to let tears fall from his eyes, running freely down his face as a stream cleaves a gorge, but instead of sobbing, he smiled. His relief was palpable, and so was Xiao Fan's. The eldest of the three broke into a spate of laughter, then - the sudden stoppage to Hao Ning's wailing, in tandem with how it was achieved, struck Zhichao Tingfeng just right. He laughed loudly and with a relief that washed over the other two like the hot, comforting waters of a bath. Like a bath, too, they seemed to draw away impurities: shared grief was forgotten, soaked clean like so many grains of dirt in the steaming waters of Zhichao Tingfeng's mirth.

Xiao Fan began to laugh, too - in that relieved sort of way one laughs when disaster is narrowly avoided, or great dread is appeased by a seemingly benign solution. Her heart felt... light, actually, for the first time in the past few days; there had been times where she had felt better, or even happy, but this sensation now was the rising of a leaf on the wind, the ascent of noodles to the surface of a boiling pot. It both calmed and invigorated her, and in truth, all of them - even Hao Ning, laying on the ground with a now-empty mouth after swallowing, joined in the shared laughter.

A ghost's howl is deafening; its laughter, however, is a sound which rivals the sweetest chimes to ring from the imperial palace. Where there had been distress in their midst, now there was serenity. A pervading sense of oneness with their surroundings, and with eachother, filled the room with the steadiness of a rising floodwater tide - one that they were each happy to drown in. The fires seemed to burn much brighter, then, and the colours, the scents, the sounds of it all, were crisp and clear. Hao Ning reached to draw another offering from the fire - her hand was stopped by her simei's own.

"Nuh-uh, sijie. Ning-Ning, hahaha... Here. Let me feed you a few more... You two have had a horrible time of things, haven't you? You should relax now... Rejoice in togetherness, though through a paper screen, and take comfort in that closeness. I can't fully imagine what it's been like for the both of you, but... I can sympathize to having a loved one so close, yet so far." She shut her lips into a firm smile, the smile of a mourner who believes their loved one has moved to greener pastures. Daiyu Zhang wasn't dead, surely... But still, this separation was new to the both of them, and surely was just as hard on her as it was on Xiao Fan. The revenant shut her eyes and breathed deep, letting that borrowed air out in a single, long sigh.

Zhichao Tingfeng's laughter wound down to a good-natured smile. He nodded his assent to Xiao Fan's suggestion to relax, seeming to have already forgotten he had been struck only minutes ago. Xiao Fan hoped it stayed that way.

She continued to feed Hao Ning the offerings - to her, they must have seemed as the food of the gods. Thirty years of starvation will do that to a person, Xiao Fan figured; she was just glad she at least had a physical body, so that the process of eating was simplified. It may not fulfill her hunger when she ate food she took herself, but it certainly helped to stave off some of those cravings. She still felt full, in fact - much to her surprise, to be truthful. She wondered about that as she leaned closer to Hao Ning, but felt something beneath her palm as she placed it down to support herself - something hard and twisted, and a bit sharp at one end.

Oh, the needle. She moved her hand to press beside it, instead of atop it. "Ah, Hao Ning... why did you take this needle out? Is someone injured? Does it have other uses?" She supposed she should've asked after giving Hao Ning more food - another offering was placed into the spirit's mouth and promptly disappeared into a flurry of teeth, tongue, and spectral saliva. She chewed it for nearly two minutes solid before finally swallowing, letting a satisfied breath exhale from her lips as she felt the food-lump-slurry travel down her throat.

"Hmm? Oh... The needle. It's something I stole from the old sect master... An artifact from the demons he would deal with. It can close any wound, if the user knows acupuncture, and where to strike the associated meridians. I... It's my gift to you, simei. Every sifu should give their student something, right? Some sort of gesture of goodwill - some kind of gift, to show investment in their disciple's progress?" Hao Ning smiled up at Xiao Fan, giving her a performative wink. Xiao Fan's heart felt near to bursting. Her vision swam, her support of her own body faltered and threatened to send her tumbling down onto Hao Ning. Luckily, Zhichao Tingfeng was watching - he put out an arm and took her by the shoulder, holding her up. It was his turn to interject.

"Oh, that needle... Oh, my goodness. Hao Ning had that? I've been looking for it for... For a long time. Is she giving it to you, simei?" His curiosity was genuine, based off his inflection. Xiao Fan could only nod, lazily and sloppily, eyes hazing in and out of focus. An artifact from demons? Seriously? That's what Hao Ning had been putting inside of her body - using to heal her wounds, despite the death of her flesh? The heavens would not be pleased to know that she had been making use of demonic implements... Even when used for a virtuous purpose, malicious tools are still better left alone. What would the Jade Emperor say - if she even made it far enough to see his court, much less him?

Zhichao Tingfeng raised his brows and put on an approving, impressed expression. "Amazing... To think, one of the cursed tools of Qinshu Lang, treasures of the unseen world, forged by demons' hands... Was with Hao Ning in the spirit plane this whole time. That's... Incredible, to say the least." Xiao Fan couldn't agree more - she couldn't agree at all, though, given the difficulty with which speaking presented itself. She doubted she'd be able to give a verbal response for some time. Hao Ning continued then, having realized she wasn't going to get much of a response out of her new disciple.

"So, it heals all wounds when used correctly... But it causes them when used improperly. I will teach you how to perform acupuncture, show you where your meridians can be found, how to open them, close them, manipulate them to connect fruitfully with one another... And, how not to damage yourself further with the needle." She pushed herself up to a seated position, smiling cheerily at the dazed Xiao Fan. Again, no answer came for some time - but when it did, the wightess had found the strength to speak, not merely nod or gesture.

"I... Sifu... This gift is incredible, but... I fear the repercussions of using it. Will the Jade Emperor not see fit to strike me down for using the power of demons? Will I not be condemned to remain a hungry ghost eternally, or be sent to the deepest depths of Hell? I... I cannot accept such a generous gift, sifu... It is too powerful for the likes of me..." She used her free hand, the one not propping herself up, to push the needle closer to Hao Ning - who responded by pushing it right back and sticking her tongue out at Xiao Fan.

"Mleh! No, simei, using this needle won't do anything bad to you! I've had it in my mouth, in my body, for decades - and I was blessed by Heaven, rather than cursed! I have you now, and I can speak to my brother! You've brought me more peace than I have had even when I was alive! This needle is the most auspicious possession I have ever owned, and now it is yours!" And with that, Hao Ning reached for the needle she had just pushed back at Xiao Fan. When she took it (Xiao Fan made no attempt to stop her), she wound back and drove it straight into Xiao Fan's chest.

Immediately, a bloom of warmth began to tear through her as her dead skin necrotized fully, desiccating almost instantly and beginning to rot. It hurt. It hurt greatly, in fact - just like the last time that Hao Ning had used the needle, it reactivated Xiao Fan's sensory input, and immediately caused it to overflow. Xiao Fan began to howl in pain, supporting arm faltering, only remaining upright from Zhichao Tingfeng's assistance. He, too, cried out - in surprise, rather than agony - as he saw Xiao Fan buckle. "Simei! Xiao Fan, what is it, what - Oh, gods above, what is happening to you?!"

Hao Ning realized just what she had done and scrambled forwards, rushing to snatch at the needle's handle. She managed to get ahold of it and draw it free - instantly, Xiao Fan's body stopped deteriorating, though it didn't begin to repair itself. An enormous, rotting hole had now formed over where her heart was - where it had been, at least. It had withered up to the point of resembling a hard plum pit, held tight beneath skin which was vacuum-sealed to her ribcage over top of where she had been stabbed.

"Ah, uh, ahhhh, uhm...! Fan-Fan, d-don't worry, I'll...-! I'll fix it! Just hold still so I can hit your meridians right, otherwise I'll just fuck you up worse! Neither of us want that!" She went to hold Xiao Fan still with one hand, aiming the needle with the other. Xiao Fan was still howling and roaring in abject misery, but managed to steady herself enough that she could deal with it. For now, at least. She could deal with it long enough for Hao Ning to fix her, if nothing else... And that was all that was needed. Hao Ning, though a bit frantic from panic, was able to strike true and firm. Immediately, the moisture in the air began to condense around Xiao Fan's chest, rehydrating her desiccated flesh and slowly doing the same for her organs.

Where the first needle-strike had been agonizing beyond measure, this was more akin to a pleasant, much-needed massage - muscles that Xiao Fan normally couldn't even feel anymore were being worked free of knots, revitalized with qi, and returned to their peak state. It wasn't euphoric, but it was close, and with that rush of pseudo-dopamine in her dead brain came a diminishment of her vocalization. The roar turned to a cry; the cry became a whimper; the whimper became a whine; the whine became silence.

Hao Ning gave a wary smile to her student, swallowing hard before speaking. "Ah... Sorry about that, simei! But now you'll take it seriously when I teach you how to avoid that!"