The Ghost Of You

Chapter 1

Winter had come, for the first time since the fall of Xianle, and Feng Xin was out of money. It was his own damned fault, mostly. When the weather changed, less people stopped to watch a struggling street performer, and those who did had their own money, and their own families to worry about. If he had gone out more often, and shot until his hands bled, they wouldn't have been here. If he'd had been less selfish, and spent less money at the brothel, they wouldn't have been here.

He shook the small coin purse out again. The sound of coins did not grace their table.
"Fuck." He had the decency to swear quietly, when the King and Queen were in the other room. They'd dealt with enough shame already. Instead, he bit down on his bottom lip, hard, drawing blood. It was a good enough distraction.
"Fuck."

He stood, and placed a hand on the wall for support, nearly punching a hole through it, in carelessness. Already, he had spent so long picking up odd jobs that having to find another only made things worse. Not that there were other options. They needed food. When the seasons changed, and the crops died, the price of food rose. Worse, the change in weather meant that the King was only getting sicker.

On the table, bags of rice and vials of medicine sat empty. They sat there, and stared at him, with a sort of judgment that he'd heretofore only seen from Mu Qing.
Mu Qing. Mu Qing, who had brought the supplies to them. Mu Qing who had betrayed them. No matter the good he had done, he had betrayed His Highness, and only brought the supplies for his own, nefarious purposes. It would be wrong to think of him in any other way. There had been a brief moment though, when Mu Qing had stood in the doorway, with the bag of rice in his hand, and his rare, crooked smile, shining like the light of the sun, when Feng Xin would have followed him to the end of the world.

The wood splintered, beneath his hand.

He was gone now, basking in the light of Heaven, and not coming back.

Behind Feng Xin, the door creaked open, already rusted on its hinges. Xie Lian stood there, his face dark in the evening light. He looked tired, and haggard. His white robes were dirtied to the point that they looked more gray than anything else. Still, when the last bits of sunlight seeped in behind him, and he blurred at the edges, he looked nearly like a god.

"Dianxia!"
He'd not expected to see him again so soon. When Feng Xin had woken in the morning, he'd already slipped away again, leaving behind nothing but the bitter remnants of their fight the day prior. Each time Xie Lian left, Feng Xin had less and less hope that he would come back.

If he'd sensed his excitement at all, Xie Lian didn't show it. He moved through the house like a ghost, taking a few, delicate, steps towards Feng Xin, before his attention snapped to their miserable supply pile.

"I saw him today, you know." When he spoke, it was soft, in a far away sort of tone that Feng Xin so rarely heard anymore.

"Who? Mu Qing?" At that, Xie Lian nodded, still looking like he'd walked out of a dream.

"He was-"

"What the fuck? You shouldn't be wasting your time on him!"

When Xie Lian glared at him, he didn't meet his eyes. It was the same piercing look he had given Feng Xin the day prior, when they'd come home with bloodied hands. The kind that made his stomach turn in on itself, and his heart beat faster. As if it was some twisted form of punctuation, Xie Lian stepped forwards, closing the gap between them.

"If I wanted your opinion, I would've asked for it."

He did not touch him. He rarely did. But the sourness of his words showed clearly that he was still angry, and reminded Feng Xin that he was on thin ice. Feng Xin longed to have Xie Lian hit him. It would have hurt less than his sharp, chilly stare. Xie Lian was not done, and said:

"If you don't agree with me, then leave. See if I care. You've made your opinions clear enough already."

It was a direct stab at him, one that he deserved, after what he had said the day prior. Feng Xin sighed, and lowered his head. He felt like a puppy about to be thrown out on the street.