The Ghost Of You

Chapter 3

For the better part of his life, Feng Xin had known he was made to die.

Before anything else, he had been the bodyguard of the crown prince, his right hand, and most beloved servant. He rarely remembered anything from the time before he served the royal family.

It had been made clear to him from the start that, if needed, he would die to protect His Highness. Bodyguards were rarely meant to have long lives. That was his ultimate purpose, the very thing he had spent a lifetime training for.

And yet, when death had come for him, he had not gone willingly, in one beautiful, final moment, ensuring the eternal safety of His Highness. He'd laid useless on the ice, waiting for the blade to plunge into his chest, and pierce his stupid, wanting heart. He'd failed at dying too, just as he had failed at protecting His Highness.

It was not a good, or happy thing to be a ghost. He'd not asked for it, but Mount Tonglu had spat him out nonetheless, and left him a fucked up, failure of a calamity, with too many holes.

***

It was late in the afternoon, as evening slowly crept in, and Feng Xin sat, waiting, on the side of Mount Yujun. He'd made camp in a small cave, far above the village, where it was easy to go unseen.

He rarely stayed anywhere long. When a supreme took up residence somewhere, the surrounding area would feel the effects of their presence for years, even after they left. Feng Xin had never wanted to doom anyone to that fate.

The ground froze and died where he walked. Ice storms followed behind him. To stay anywhere long would be to leave behind unlivable land. He was left traveling through far off mountain passages, ruined cities, and every place that anyone in their right mind avoided. When he was lucky, he clashed with lesser ghosts, and evil spirits that had made a habit of killing townspeople. Most times, he acted before Heaven Realm ever could. It gave him a small sliver of pride.

That was what had brought him to Yujun. The rumors of a ghost bridegroom had spread far from the small village, and caught his attention. Too many had already died. If Heaven Realm ever did cast their light upon the town, it would be too late.

He had not come alone.

Jian Lan stood in the entrance, leaning against the cave wall, her arms crossed, and her eyes narrowed. In her hands was a bundle of red fabric. She beheld him, momentarily, with the expression of someone who looked like she wanted to peel his skin off.

"Jian Lan!" He leapt to his feet, and stood like a soldier at attention, back perfectly straight. It did little to impress her..

"You're going to have to give me an amazing explanation for why the hell you wanted this." She tossed the fabric at him. It hit him in the face.

The fabric unraveled in his hands, revealing its true intricacies. Even Feng Xin could recognize it as a wedding dress, strikingly red and embroidered with heavy golden threads. The fabric came in different forms, some parts of it soft, some almost rough with detail, and other parts gauzy. He could barely understand why anyone would actively seek to wear something so complicated, and uncomfortable.

He could feel her watching him, her sharp eyes piercing his soul, like a hawk watching its prey.

"Thank you," he mumbled. "Really, you didn't have to-"

"I know I didn't have to do anything. You really think you could control me like that? Ha! I'd like to see you try."

This was the game they played each time they met, which had become rarer and rarer lately. He'd come to her, and make a fool of himself begging for her assistance and, although she never seemed happy about it, she gave him her help. They'd read through the script hundreds of times.