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.

"You're chasing a shadow, Clan Leader Lan." Ghost's voice betrayed a hint of frustration, his attempt to maintain composure strained by the tumult of emotions roiling within him.

"If you're determined to pursue answers, do so at the summit. Our arrangement remains unchanged."

Lan Xichen's voice was quiet, but carried the weight of something deeper — not accusation, but quiet conviction. "You seem to know more about me than you let on." He paused, gaze narrowing slightly.

"You knew what to say. Which names to invoke... and how to use them."

He stepped closer, gaze unwavering as it searched the expressionless surface of Ghost's mask.

"So tell me — what do you really know of Qing Yi?"

Ghost offered no response. He stood motionless, unreadable, but his silence held the sharpness of a blade held just out of sight. Not avoidance — control.

Lan Xichen studied him, something tightening behind his composed exterior. The way Ghost held himself — the poise, the restraint — it stirred a quiet ache in his chest, a familiarity that felt too precise to ignore.

"Who are you, really?" he asked, voice lower now — stripped of formality, touched by something unresolved.

Ghost didn't answer. A flicker of discomfort passed through him as he met Lan Xichen's gaze before hastily averting his eyes. He shifted slightly, as though trying to reassert his composure. Yet, it was futile; Lan Xichen seemed attuned to Ghost's every nuance. Taking a subtle step back in an attempt to regain control, Ghost was caught off guard as Lan Xichen's firm grip closed around his arm, anchoring him in place.

"Don't turn away." 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 said before... what I know of Qing Yi isn't easily shared. Pushing for answers too soon won't bring you closer to him."

Lan Xichen's sigh was barely audible as he responded with calm resolve, "Then allow me to see who I'm speaking to. Let me stop seeing him in every step you take." 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.