Puqi Shrine had managed to make a little name for itself around the countryside. Between busy matters and serious topics, the prayers that filed in like a water leak had to be tended to.

There were all matters of prayers, but none too hard considering the domesticity of the town. Some prayed for luck to get a job, to get a girl, fertility, money to get food with... But the most common prayer was for farmers, from farmers. There was plenty of reasons different people pleaded for farmers to work their fields. Some were unable to because of injuries, or pregnancies; maybe their ox broke its leg and now couldn't drag the plow along its back... But something had to be done nonetheless.

And for a humble shrine like that, there was only one way to really manage it. Do it yourself.

It would have been a task you would dread if you were doing it alone, if you were in silence plowing and planting in muddy rice paddy fields. But fortunately for you, a certain ghost king was over.

It wasn't rare at all for him to be spending his days in the small place, but his absences dragged on so tediously that they felt far more paced.

When Hua Cheng was at Puqi shrine, his job would always be to follow you around to help out when he was told he couldn't follow like some stray. He was good at carpenting, at cooking, fighting— But, not handwriting. Well, people had weaknesses...

You were sure without him the place would have let out a sad little groan one day and just fall to a pile of dust without him around. And even if you insisted over and over again that he didn't have to, he'd scoff out a little 'nonsense' and then do something else far too generous for someone who really should be treated as a guest.

His presence alone was nice too...

Hua Cheng tagged along with you to the rice paddy fields. He couldn't be dissuaded despite protests for his sake, and after the walk, the two of you rolled your robes up properly to enter the wet of the rice paddies, and the work began.

It was still autumn, and the winter cold hadn't washed over yet, so the sun beating up high left a dry heat in the air that soon became your, and a red-cladded man's, worst enemy.

Throughout the fields, were a few other men scattered about. Most of them were covered in mud, some all straggly and sticky from farm work that they seemed to blend in and make the two of you stand out: you looking no more than seventeen and Hua Cheng using his eighteen year old form you met him in. Some village girls were also mixed in among the farmers. They were young and always seemed to giggle between words. Those giggles were sugary and seemingly pointed to you and the ghost.

But that soon blended into a foggy nothing. It felt almost impossible to continue planting the rice stalks when the whole place was engulfed in vivid heat. The sun felt more like a flame just above your head than something ever so far away. It felt unbearable, and if not for your bamboo hat, you'd probably be—

It suddenly hit you. Like a knife of a thought that broke the weary planting. Ghosts as a whole were creatures of shadows. They hated the sun, and even if they liked it in life, it would naturally be incredibly uncomfortable as a ghost no matter that. You were suddenly ever so conscious that he was probably suffering far worse than you were, and can't resist the urge to look over at him.

Hua Cheng had managed to plant a rather large patch of the paddies with bright green rice stalks, but despite that, his brows were deeply furrowed. He looked like he'd throw a fit at anyone that came close, and his sharp, annoyed eyes seemed to be near you. For a moment you think he's jealous of you for a moment, perhaps for having a hat. And then, from where he's stood across the field, skin slightly glossy from sweat...

He smiles. Warmly despite the more unpleasant warmth that made him ever so uncomfortable. Even now, it was a genuine one your way.