You hadn't seen him a week, no. And before that, you'd only known... At least this version on him for a few days. San Lang.

This time was under fairly different circumstances than the last. It was in Ghost City. The place was full of vice and sin, under the guise of red lanterns that laced every street corner. And this time, he was the ruler of the place He sat pridefully behind curtains. Ghost City's dear Chengzhu, his silhouette masked by smooth fabric but not diluted. And even then, his favour for you was clear.

The people of Ghost City, women in long, beautiful gowns (There were certainly alot of them. To anyone else, there would be no doubt in their mind that Hua Cheng was an undoubtedly a straight man with the beautiful women at his feet, but he rarely batted an eye), men with eyes bulging from greed, all stared alike with envy, shock, contempt, adoration.

His hands of white jade clasped yours, each brush inferred to be an accident on his part, but always, consistently making his dead heart clench in a way that almost felt like a beat. He spent most of the time swimming in the sight of your eyes. But even after that, after he let you bet on a measly half eaten bun rather than the other patron's arms, lives, daughters' lives, it wasn't over. It didn't feel, to him, that he was being subtle: spending each moment with you he could like a man starved. But he wasn't sure if you realised it.

You were rather dense in the... land of affections, after all.

He asked for you back in the Paradise Manor after your little visit to the Gambling Den. Because his time seeing you again wasn't enough for his brain. Your presence left him in a dizzy fluster inside, even when he hid it with a soft smile and half-lidded, aloof eyes. He couldn't get enough of it. Especially after waiting so, so long to have it again. He wanted it all. His treasures, spilling and piling up in rooms, showed his greed, but none of it compared to that greed he felt for more and more of your attention, the way he felt like just clawing at it, as if it were a thick, corporeal thing—

And of course you accepted, just as he wanted... You saw the floors thick and silky with a white beast's fur, not knowing he padded the floor after hearing rumours years back you tended to run barefoot. Unsurprisingly, women were everywhere here too, spinning and flaring the silks to soft music, in an attempt to captivate both their Chengzhu and his visitor. They seemed to undress you with their eyes, but ironically, you simply saw through them in return.

To the man sat upon a black jade divan, the broadness of it not feeling empty, but instead full of Hua Cheng's presence. His had such an air to him that the place did not feel liminal or empty, but prideful and the same as anything else. Hua Cheng didn't look at these women either, his look almost lazy as it found its place on your person, and didn't move an inch. Before him was layers (almost like baklava with the thinness and quantity of each and every layer) of gold foil, layered intricately into a golden palace.

One sheet of this golden foil was spinning between his fingers, as he twirled the thing repetitively through the digits. His eyes were burning through you.

Hua Cheng didn't look down, or bat his eye at the palace of foils, as he reached a free hand out, and flicked the palace. Each layer of the foil fell away and danced through the air with a flitter, the whole piece collapsing into a heap on the pelted floor. The man seemed amused at the little mess, as if it didn't trouble or weigh upon him that he ruined his own, wondrous piece of art with a movement of his finger.

The piece of foil between his long, pale fingers was then discarded without a thought from Hua Cheng. All of the women who danced either side of him stilled as he stood up from the large, dark divan.

His feet trampled the fragile gold foils on the floor as he approached you, by the entrance.

"Since Gege is here, why not come in? We haven't been apart for that long, so don't act like a stranger to your dear San Lang."