Underneath The Moonlit Night

Chapter 62 - Confrontation & Confession

Ghost hesitated, acutely aware of the closeness between him and Lan Xichen, their breaths nearly mingling in the small space between them. Unable to meet Lan Xichen's penetrating gaze, he cast his eyes downward, avoiding the intensity that seemed to emanate from the Clan Leader. In that moment, Ghost's usual confidence wavered, a sense of vulnerability creeping over him, as if his defenses had been deliberately stripped away.

"Why do you persist in this belief that I am Qing Yi?" Ghost's voice betrayed a hint of frustration, his attempt to maintain composure strained by the tumult of emotions roiling within him. "Qing Yi is recuperating, and if you honor your promise to bring your Grandmaster to Yunmeng, you will have your chance to see him. That was our agreement."

Lan Xichen's calm smile remained steady, his gaze piercing through Ghost's silver mask as if deciphering the very essence of his being. "Is the 'true' Qing Yi genuinely by your side, or is he merely another puppet manipulated by your blood magic?" His voice, though soft, carried an unwavering confidence.

Ghost visibly flinched, his shock evident as he met Lan Xichen's gaze before hastily averting his eyes, attempting to shield his astonishment. Yet, it was futile; Lan Xichen seemed attuned to Ghost's every nuance. Taking a subtle step back in an attempt to regain his composure, Ghost was caught off guard as Lan Xichen's firm grip closed around his arm, anchoring him in place.

"Don't turn away, Ghost," Lan Xichen's sincere tone resonated with genuine concern, anchoring Ghost in place with a gentle yet compelling force.

The unexpected contact sent a jolt of awareness coursing through Ghost, his heart hammering in his chest as he struggled to compose himself. His response emerged in a hesitant murmur, his voice betraying the inner turmoil that clouded his mind. "Clan Leader Lan," Ghost's words trembled slightly, heavy with the weight of uncertainty, "I've made it clear before—I am not Qing Yi."

Lan Xichen's sigh was barely audible as he responded with calm resolve, "Very well, I'll believe you once you reveal your face. If you're truly not Qing Yi, I will trouble you no further." His grasp on Ghost's elbow remained resolute, a silent testament to his determination.

Despite the mask concealing his expression, Ghost visibly faltered further, his frustration manifesting in subtle shifts of his stance. He attempted to shake off Lan Xichen's hold, but the Clan Leader's grip only tightened, eliciting an uncomfortable sigh from Ghost.

With each passing moment, Ghost's frustration intensified, fueled by Lan Xichen's unwavering insistence. Unable to suppress the simmering anger within him any longer, his voice took on a sharp edge of accusation.

"Why this insistence on seeing Qing Yi? If your concern for him is truly sincere, then why did you allow his demise?"

Lan Xichen stood frozen, his heart clenching painfully at Ghost's question. It pierced through the armor of his composure, striking directly at the rawest depths of his soul. For nearly two agonizing years, since the tragic loss of Qing Yi, Lan Xichen had been grappling with an unrelenting storm of guilt and self-blame. Every waking moment was consumed by the relentless cycle of "what ifs" and "if onlys," each one a sharp reminder of his own deep regret. He replayed scenarios in his mind, endlessly torturing himself with visions of how things could have unfolded differently, haunted by the crushing regret of not being able to do more for Qing Yi.

The weight of his anguish bore down heavily upon Lan Xichen, threatening to suffocate him with the burden of his remorse.

"I...," Lan Xichen hesitated, his gaze steadily fixed on Ghost, yet a palpable sense of distance seemed to creep between them. Despite holding Ghost close, Lan Xichen felt as if an insurmountable divide had emerged, causing Ghost to drift farther away, even within the confines of their physical proximity. Nevertheless, Lan Xichen clung tightly to Ghost, unwilling to release his grasp, eliciting an audible discomfort from Ghost.