Mount Tonglu has now prepared to open its gates, and it waits for ghosts to heed its call.

The stronger the ghost, the stronger the effect, of course. And as the Kiln cries out for new candidates for a Ghost King, it affects the Ghost Kings the most.

You knew this of course, you had seen it. How Hua Cheng clutched his right eye like it was burning, shaking as he seemed almost deluded that night. How uncontrollable he was, how he—

How he and you fought. Yes— fought.

You hadn't seen him since that morning after. The emptiness in Puqi Shrine he usually filled was deafening and large, and you felt almost cold without that playful, and yet kind man following you like a second shadow. It was almost like a yearning feeling. And yet at the same time, you had grown so used to it over your life said feeling didn't collapse you.

But it seems that you had found him. It didn't take long, and it was almost funny that even with how sad you were at his absence, it never seemed to last long enough to dwell on.

However, said appearance was a tad different. As always, but moreso...

Hua Cheng was a shapeshifter. He changed skins as easy as robes, with a snap of the fingers. While these unbeatable disguises looked impeccable, he'd flip through them as if they were pages from a boring old book.

This time, he was rather small. A child, once in the form of Lang Ying, and now just a small Hua Cheng.

The form had this babyish face to it that you couldn't resist pinching the cheeks of like he were your very own child, and not a dear friend.

"...Gege!"

It wouldn't take a detective to guess exactly why he had changed to a form with far less spiritual qi and strength. Crimson Rain Sought Flower had sealed his true form in favour of one that would feel less, but still alot of, Tonglu's cries.

He didn't seem very happy about it, but your first thought was how adorable he was. His mannerisms and speech were still very similar to an adult, but he just looked like an angsty child. His hair was soft and braided on one side, still laced with that pearl, and his, now two, beady eyes seemed bigger. When you looked closely, his skin looked smooth and almost soft. If anything, he looked no more than twelve years old, and even Lang Ying's clothes hung off of him like curtains from the size change.

It was like you could scoop him up in your arms.

"I'm not happy."

His voice held that young tenderness to it still when he spoke, but he was still being stubborn as ever.

And so, the only way you could think of responding to the situation was to make the most of it. You dragged the pouting Hua Cheng away and led him around like he were a doll, unable to not coo at the sight. He was an admirable child, causing croons from people down the street— Also to his annoyance.

"I... hate looking like this!"