Present—

Qian Meng sat up on a heaving gasp, clutching at his chest, hair sticking to his sweaty cheeks. It had been a long while since he'd remembered anything from the first three hundred years of his life, let alone that. Such was a conversation he had forgotten, one that perhaps was brought about because the God of Justice in question was the one who'd humiliated him earlier. It felt like his own mind had given him a slap of irony. He sighed, bringing shaking hands up to rub at his temples.

"Are you alright?"

Qian Meng jumped at the sudden voice, registering for the first time that this was not his bed. It was much too extravagant for that. Covered in layers of burgundy silk, a mountain of plush pillows, and hanging drapes that swayed in the breeze coming from the open window. Here, the scent of Sichuan pepper was even more intense. It covered the blankets, and he had the strange, fleeting urge to drop back down and inhale a steady lungful of it. As if it could center him. He turned to the man, surprised to find Lei Gong waiting by his bedside, bloodied robe still worn but having dried.

"I'm fine," he said cautiously, licking his dry lips. "What am I doing in your bedroom?"

"Recovering," Lei Gong said simply.

Qian Meng narrowed his eyes. "From?"

The man lifted a brow. "I was going to ask you that as well. I checked your body for injuries, but there were none."

Again, the two stared at one another for an incense time in pure silence. The man was surely lying. Plus, the idea of this God having pawed at his unconscious body to find injuries to treat was unsettling, and, for some reason, Qian Meng knew he'd taken his time in doing so. As if it were pleasant for him. Qian Meng screwed up his expression at the thought, tilting his face away. Just what kind of situation had he gotten himself into? At first, the prospect of a hefty bag of gold in exchange for his services the moment he descended the mountains after years of seclusion wasn't half bad. If the God had done evil things, he deserved death. That was all.

Only now did he understand why the man hiring for the job had traveled such a far distance for the chance of offering it to the mighty Qian Meng. . . No one else on Rasheia would be willing to kill a God who had gone insane. Not only had Lei Gong asked him to run Yu Chang through his chest, but when he refused, the God had fallen onto the sword himself for the sake of standing closer! Not only that—if Qian Meng happened to fall ill in the presence of any other immortal, they'd happily cut off his head and perhaps mount it on a stick for all to see, but this man cared enough to remove his boots and tuck him into bed. It was manic, indeed! While mortals feared him, immortals resented him. There were no exceptions to either rule. At least, there hadn't been before today.

"Why didn't you kill me?" Qian Meng asked, trying to solidify his idea of who this man really was.

Lei Gong pursed his lips. "Why would I? You've never done anything to me."

". . ."

What he'd uttered just now was a direct contrast to his identity. If anyone was known for divine lawfulness, it was the God of Thunder. Rumor had it he roamed the mortal realm killing any and all beings not for vengeance, but for justice of the weak and wronged. For those who could not fight for themselves. Such a noble notion was admirable coming from a God of the Heavenly Realm. But, from someone like Qian Meng who had never sworn fealty to anyone or anything, it was a disgrace. Many immortals refused to acknowledge him as their fellow cultivator, not that he particularly cared. He did not exist with this dark power to please others. Quite the opposite, in fact. He snorted to himself, shaking his head. This man had him thinking of all kinds of useless memories.

"Well, I must leave now."

Taking a deep breath, Qian Meng swung his legs out of the bed, pressing his feet to the cool floor. Lei Gong stood from his chair as if to help him rise, but, thinking better of it, sat again, hands clenched together in his lap. The air between them was charged, expectant, but Qian Meng ignored it altogether in favor of searching for his shoes. He raised his brows at the sight of them tucked neatly by the roaring fire. The thought of a God being so considerate was strange, but he pulled the toasty boots on regardless. Yu Chang was still sheathed safely at his waist, not removed or touched by his foe. Such altruism charmed him just enough that he decided to let the man live after all.

Placing one hand on the door handle, he intended to open it up, leave, and forget this had ever happened. No one paid until after the quest was complete, anyhow. If he never returned to Cāng Kun where that benefactor waited for him, there would be no issue other than rumors—for which he never cared about in the first place. Humans were social creatures, talking to pass the time of dreary days and speaking ill of others just to make themselves feel better about their own sorry lives. Such was the way of mortality. He knew very well what wicked slander felt like; having fallen prey to quite often during the younger years of his life.

It had always baffled him how personal trauma was. No one else in the world knew of his, and yet, it fueled his every waking breath. Without it, he would have chosen to die long ago. Qian Meng scoffed and opened the door. What was he doing reminiscing about the past in the presence of a lunatic stranger? Something really must have happened to him earlier for his mind to be so utterly scrambled.

"Where are you off to? Aren't you supposed to kill me?"

Qian Meng paused, keeping his back to the God.

"I was sent to kill you, yes, but I have decided not to. Have a nice life."

He fled into the dim hall, feet moving quickly along the concrete. The faster he got out of here, the faster he'd stop thinking of the past he'd rather leave behind. However, it seemed Lei Gong was unable to let him go so easily. He could hear the scrapping of a chair being violently pushed back, and then the God's rushed steps toward him. Instinct took over as he whirled, Yu Chang unsheathing by itself to hover in the air directly at the man's throat. Lei Gong held up his hands, a nervous smile on his face. The firelight from inside the room flickered against his back, bathing it in a fitting, golden glow. It made the man appear even more celestial than he already was. He wrenched his gaze away from the gilded gem on Lei Gong's forehead, lips twisting into a snarl.

"I said I wouldn't kill you. Why are you trying to force my hand?"

The God only blinked at him with an innocence Qian Meng knew he did not possess. "I am not! You were leaving, and I'd like to escort you out."

Escort him out. . . ?

Why in the world would a renowned assassin like him need guidance out of this hell hole by the man he was sent to kill? Even the idea was a head spinner, and he could do nothing else for a few moments but stare back at the man, utterly stupified by his behavior. The more time they spent in the same room the more apparent his mental state became. If Qian Meng wasn't careful, he'd lose a few brain cells of his own!

"I'm fine, thank you. I entered alone, so it's just as well to leave that way."

"I insist."

Without allowing any room for argument, the God slipped past Yu Chang to lead the way down the hall, his cream robes a beacon in the dark. Qian Meng looked between the forgotten room and Lei Gong's back several times, chest deflating. Just what was he supposed to do now other than follow him? The only thing he could do was keep a wide berth between them, measuring his gait and mannerisms to learn as much about the man as possible in the event this was all a ruse. It wouldn't be the first time someone attempted to kill him through trickery.

They wound through the maze of halls together, each more dreary than the last. At times, he swore he smelt the metallic tang of old blood, but it would pass as quickly as it came, leaving him puzzled. That coupled with the stale air and lack of windows left him without any sense of direction. Qian Meng knew the way out only because he'd marked each turn out of here with a spiritual talisman that would flare when he drew close. And, sure enough, the halls Lei Gong led him through were paved with Qian Meng's magical signature. It seemed the man had no intention of starting any funny business. With that thought, he let his shoulders fall and decided to ask the mysterious God a few questions.

"Hey, what's the meaning of this place?"

Lei Gong glanced back at him, expression unreadable as he turned another corner without even looking. "This is my mortal dwelling. I only visit from time to time. My primary home is in the realm above this one."

Fair enough. If Qian Meng had a sacred temple high in the clouds surrounded by other powerful beings and luxuries he wouldn't choose to live down in the mortal realm either.

"Hm. And why is it so dark? Gods are frivolous creatures erring on the side of extravagance."

The words left his lips as sharp as blades, yet Lei Gong only chuckled. "Yes, we are. But I bought this castle as it came and have not altered it since."

Qian Meng pressed his lips together to silence himself even when a follow-up question crawled up his throat to sit on the tip of his tongue. He could tell the man was avoiding the truth ever so slightly, or at least omitting part of it. And he supposed it really wasn't any of his business why the God of Thunder chose to own a lifeless residence. It was just, for some reason or another, he felt entirely too intrigued. Was it because Lei Gong was utterly insane? Different from other Gods and Goddesses he'd met? Or was it because of that dream where he had once been compared to the gilded person in front of him? Each reason that flitted across Qian Meng's consciousness didn't feel quite right.

"What is your residence like?" Lei Gong asked.

"Hm?" Qian Meng said off-handedly, dark eyes turning back to him.

Lei Gong was smiling, a soft kindness on his face that felt too intimate. "I asked what your residence is like."

"Oh. I do not have one."

The man reared back in shock, but Qian Meng didn't elaborate. Sure, he'd been alive for over a thousand years and that was more than enough time to build his coffers and secure his own housing, but Qian Meng never felt that he needed it. Most of his time was spent on the road, going from one target to the next as there was never a shortage of evil men to be slain. He'd make money during the journey, stay at inns within his means, and eat when he could. That was all. Hell, the only pair of robes he owned were the ones on his back right now. His most expensive possessions were his weapons, and no one dared to lift them from his person for he never took them off. Even to bathe.

"Why not?" Lei Gong asked, slowing his gait to walk beside him, hands tucked behind his back.

Qian Meng eyed him warily. "I have no need for it."

The hall opened up into the grand foyer, exposing the high ceilings and windows at the top covered in layers of grime to block out the sun. The tiles below their feet were cracked and smeared with dried blood, and in some corners, Qian Meng could spot long-forgotten skeletons. Whatever had happened to these people before Lei Gong took the castle into his possession was horrid indeed. Had he killed them? Again, Qian Meng turned his gaze on the God, trying to decipher some kind of clue as to who he really was, although he gave nothing away.

"Would you like one?" Lei Gong asked, still smiling.

Qian Meng, who had finally begun to calm down, was instantly riled up again. How dare this God imply he didn't have the funds for his own residence?

"No, and if I did, I could buy it myself."

The words were colder than death, and the God only watched as Qian Meng stormed toward the doors holding him within the castle, feet slamming into the stone with every step. Clearly, the man was not one to hide his emotions. Either he didn't care that others knew exactly what he was thinking, or he simply had no way of controlling them.

"Wait!" Lei Gong shouted, rushing after him.

Qian Meng didn't stop this time, nor did Yu Chang leave its sheath. He knew Lei Gong was not a threat to him, at least not right now. It took no effort to kick the doors open, shattering the rusted lock. The blinding brilliance of the sun filtered through, forcing him to squint, holding one hand up to block it. It felt like he hadn't witnessed light in centuries rather than a single day. Even so, he staggered down the crumbling staircase and onto the grass below. It was overgrown, almost reaching his knees, proving yet again that Lei Gong didn't hold his mortal residence in high regard.

"I have to get out of here," he muttered to himself.

Qian Meng's feet carried him deep into the forest surrounding the forgotten castle. Under the cover of foliage, his eyes adjusted nicely, allowing him to track his route toward a sister town of Cāng Kun where he could buy some provisions and plot his next move. Throughout it all, Qian Meng could still feel Lei Gong rushing along behind him, could even picture him wringing his hands with worry. Still, he did not turn back, nor acknowledge his existence. He hoped that if he was angry for long enough, the immortal would decide he wasn't worth the effort of sweet words and kind smiles.

Reaching into the sleeve of his robe, Qian Meng dug around for a spirit stone to replenish his energy. Even with however many hours of sleep he'd gotten in that castle, he felt fatigue rattling in his bones, dragging him down. As if overtaken by curiosity for what he was doing, Lei Gong finally built the courage to bound up beside him, leaning in with hands tucked behind his back. It brought him too close, and Qian Meng scowled, rearing away.

"What are you looking for?" Lei Gong asked.

"A spirit stone," Qian Meng snapped.

It took no effort for him to be cold, for the assassin had spent his entire life cultivating his chilly attitude. However, Lei Gong only searched his own sleeve for but a moment before procuring one and offering it to him. The look on his face was similar to that of a pup wanting desperately to please its master. Qian Meng wanted to hate the sight, did in some part of his chest, but also couldn't stop himself from snatching the offered stone.

Spiritual energy flew into his dantian without pause a moment later, the stone disappearing in no time at all, being totally absorbed. Qian Meng sighed in relief, finally feeling a bit less shaky than he had since he awoke. He cut his gaze to the man beside him, lips pursed. Lei Gong was still watching him as if waiting on the edge of his seat for whatever he said or did next.

"Thank you," he said begrudgingly, tilting his face away.

The God pressed closer. "Oh! It's no problem at all. I have more if you need it."

He didn't know why, but Lei Gong's giving nature irritated him. Maybe it was due to the fact that Qian Meng was the total opposite of him. Unwilling to give others even an inch in conversation, let alone offer his own wealth to others. Was he feeling inferior? Or were these God's practices just so out of the box that Qian Meng didn't agree in the slightest?

That must be it, right?

"Why are you still following me? Go back to your castle, shoo!" He told the man, even waving his fingers at him.

Lei Gong frowned, pressing a hand to his chest as if he were an offended maiden. "Why are you shooing me like a dog? How rude!"

It took a lot of mental effort to keep Qian Meng from rolling his eyes.

"Just answer the question."

Lei Gong straightened with a harumph, swishing back his robe. "I'm interested in you."

Interested in him? What in the world did that mean?! He wasn't an exhibit to be stared at! Qian Meng balled up his fists in the sleeves of his robe, trying to curb his rising temper. He'd never been good at dealing with sunshine people like Lei Gong. The man was so honest and cheerful it hurt him to hear the words coming from his lips. Hurt him to even look upon his smiling face.

"Interested? What am I, a creature for sale?"

Lei Gong laughed, the sound tinkling like stars falling into a glass container. Unreplicable. "No, of course not! But if you were, I'd buy you in a heartbeat. How much would you cost?"

Qian Meng opened and closed his mouth several times, so angry he was unable to form a single word, let alone a rebuttal. The God didn't seem to notice, moving ahead of him to walk backward while tapping his chin, eyes crinkled at the corners. Clearly, he was teasing the man now, but no one had ever dared do so in the past so it went completely over Qian Meng's head.

"Fifty spirit stones?" He asked, crimson eyes flashing.

The assassin's expression darkened.

"Fine, one hundred?"

". . ."

"Okay, okay. I'm being too cheap, I admit it! Sheesh. You don't need to look at me like that! Five hundred! Five hundred spirit stones!"

Without a second thought, as if he'd done it a thousand times before, Qian Meng sped up and flicked the man across his Godly gem. It made a small tinking noise, and Lei Gong scrunched up his nose, shying away. He turned to face forward, hiding the slight blush that had risen to his cheeks. But even if he hadn't, the assassin likely wouldn't have noticed.

"That's enough of your useless chattering," Qian Meng said.

Lei Gong remained silent, properly chastised. To outsiders, it would appear the two knew each other very well, for no one would dare touch a man like Lei Gong so frivolously. However, he was not upset in the least, only embarrassed. Slowing his gait to once again calmly trail along behind the dark cultivator. Qian Meng didn't shoo him away this time, only swished his robes aside and picked up his pace.