Zhi Cheng cleared his throat. This was his chance to get rid of him, never to meet Xiao Xiangyu again, and to avoid the danger posed by Qing Lai.
"I don't have a specific destination," he began slowly.
"Then won't you accompany me for a while? Traveling alone is lonely, especially when you're wandering around aimlessly," Qing Lai suggested cheerfully.
Zhi Cheng swallowed. He knew exactly what he shouldn't do, and at the same time, he knew exactly that he would do it anyway.
Qing Lai attracted him like his counterpart; if he embodied yin energy, Qing Lai was pure yang.
He was the ghost king, ruler of the dead, a murderer. Qing Lai, on the other hand, shone as brightly as the morning sun, which he hadn't seen in so long. He would burn himself on him, that was certain. "Qing Lai, I..."
The morning sun slowly colored the horizon lilac. Delicate shades of pink stretched far across the sky, bathing everything in a soft, surreal light.
The wind picked up, brushing against their skin and taking away the tension of the previous night. Light and shadow facing each other. Both could only exist at the same time during twilight. Two things that could never reach each other.
Zhi Cheng's black hair blew in the wind and intertwined with strands of Qing Lai's golden brown hair as he looked at him. Directly, without detours, without prejudice, without hatred.
Just because light and shadow were destined to go their separate ways did not mean that they did not long for each other. But shadow extinguishes light, and if the light shines too brightly, the shadow disappears.
Zhi Cheng swallowed, involuntarily stretching out his fingers. At the last moment, he placed his hand on Qing Lai's shoulder instead of his cheek.
"Maybe just a little further, until we've left Chaisang behind," he said, hiding the anguish in his voice as best he could. Yes, he thought. Just a little bit longer. Just a few days, maybe a week, no more. If I can't kill you, I should at least get out of your way.
"I feel like I've found a true friend in you, a comrade and companion I can rely on. I look forward to our time together," Qing Lai laughed and patted Zhi Cheng on the shoulder before turning away and walking on ahead.
"You are a master of pain, a king of torture," Zhi Cheng groaned so quietly that Qing Lai couldn't hear him. A friend? A comrade? Even his spirit threads couldn't cut deeper than Qing Lai's careless words.
A few days later, they sat in a small but well-filled inn far away from Chaisang and their problems there. After Qing Lai had prowled around a bit until he received word that the merchant Bo Chao would be recovering from the rigors of his journey, they had set off.
Zhi Cheng had replenished his funds in the meantime, and so their journey had been pleasant and smooth so far. It would have almost become boring again, had it not been for a beggar, wrapped in rags and filth, approaching them with such confidence and assurance that it was bound to cause trouble.
Zhi Cheng put down his tea bowl and pointed to the visitor with a glance at Qing Lai. When the beggar saw Qing Lai, his features froze, and he hurriedly approached them and bowed deeply before him. Qin Lai took a sharp breath, and Zhi Cheng looked suspiciously at the smelly man.
"Bai dashi!" he greeted him formally. Zhi Cheng choked on his tea and coughed violently. Qing Lai waved him away.
"You have mistaken me, I am just a traveler," he said and laughed forcedly. The man looked at him incredulously and scrutinized him from head to toe.
"Hey, watch where you're looking," Zhi Cheng warned him.
"I regret my impudence, Bai dashi, but my master wishes to see you. There are urgent matters in Tseyang!" replied the man.
Qing Lai sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose as the beggar continued to address him by the title he had long since discarded. He gave Zhi Cheng a forced smile.
"In that case, I will pay the master a visit. You may consider your task fulfilled and now go, please," he added emphatically. When the man had left, Qing Lai took a deep breath.
"It seems we'll have to lay our cards on the table, Brother Zhi," he said, his tone sounding sad, almost as if a beautiful game had come to an end. Zhi Cheng closed his eyes briefly, then nodded and braced himself inwardly.
"You are the Ghost King!" said Qing Lai. Zhi Cheng gritted his teeth.
"And you, Death in White! Bai dashi!" he replied. The only person in the whole world he didn't want to meet, and now he was the only person he didn't want to let go.
"Don't call me that, I rejected that title long ago," Qing Lai said quietly.
"So have I, the Ghost King," Zhi Cheng replied. They sat facing each other. The tavern was filled to capacity with guests. Everyone was laughing and shouting. No one paid any attention to the two men sitting across from each other, tense and silent.
"How long have you known?" Zhi Cheng asked, without lowering his guard.
"I already suspected something was amiss when we entered Chaisang and the news spread that the Ghost King had fallen," Qing Lai confessed. Zhi Cheng raised an eyebrow.
"The Ghost King disappears and you show up. A man out of nowhere, with a fine scholar's robe, charisma, and an uncontrollable urge to spill blood!"
"Why now?" Zhi Cheng pressed, slowly fanning himself. Qing Lai looked at him, and once again the Ghost King weakened at the sight of his golden eyes. His heart pounded, and he was suddenly certain. If Qing Lai decided to put an end to him once and for all, he would let him. Yes, he was sure there was nothing he wouldn't give him, including his life.
"I had no reason to reveal your identity, which you so desperately wanted to escape. I didn't lie to you, Brother Zhi, when I said I was glad to meet you. From the moment I first saw you, I felt a connection, a camaraderie..."
I don't want to be your comrade, Zhi Cheng thought, but he quickly stifled the voice. "A friendship. You've saved my life more than once, and I trust you blindly."
"You're certainly the only one," Zhi Cheng interjected. Qing Lai smiled.
"I wouldn't mind being the only one, then I'd have you all to myself," he replied gently. Zhi Cheng's fan clattered to the table and spilled the tea in his cup. Qing Lai wiped it up immediately, paying no further attention to his words.
"In that case, you surely don't mind if we become a little more familiar with each other, do you, A'lai?" asked Zhi Cheng, picking up his fan again, wiping the metal fittings on his clothes, and feeling very pleased with his quick wit. Qing Lai certainly didn't know how to respond to that.
"Of course... Gege!"
A tearing sound caused the nearby guests to look up for a moment. Qing Lai jumped up.
"Oh my goodness, you've torn your sleeve," he said, picking up the scrap of fabric that had fallen to the floor.
"You have to be more careful, Gege," he said reproachfully. Zhi Cheng froze in mid-motion.
"Would you prefer Qianbei ..."
"No," Zhi Cheng interrupted. 'Gege is fine.' He preferred being a big brother to being the eldest. He fanned himself vigorously and avoided eye contact with Qing Lai.
He wanted to tease him, make him blush, and flirt with him unabashedly. Could it be that Qing Lai, that sly fox, was too stupid to flirt?
No, Zhi Cheng tapped his forehead with the fan. Wasn't it more likely that the reason Qing Lai didn't push him away, that he didn't reject his touches and teasing, was because he saw him as nothing more than a friend? A companion and ally.
How frustrating, how incredibly frustrating, thought Zhi Cheng, his fingers tightening around the fan. How much clearer did he have to be? He was so deep in thought that he didn't even notice Qing Lai sitting down next to him and watching him. Zhi Cheng jumped up when he noticed his presence.
"A'lai, you don't stare at people," he growled reproachfully.
"But you're not a person, are you?" Qing Lai asked curiously, moving even closer to him.
"I've heard so many stories about the Ghost King, which of them are true?" Zhi Cheng hit him on the forehead with his fan.
"Aren't you being a little too familiar with one of the greatest evils of our time?" he asked in return.
"Aren't you being a little too friendly with the greatest murderer in history?" Qing Lai replied dryly. The two looked at each other. They weren't so different after all; they had simply chosen different ways of dealing with all the deaths and bloodshed they were responsible for.
Wu Qing Lai, the White Death. The fighter who could dominate an entire battlefield alone. Zhi Cheng was reminded once again of who he was and what he had done long before he became the Ghost King, long before he earned the title of greatest evil and nightmare of all immortals.
When he was still Zhou Qiao Guan. Seventh prince of the Kingdom of Xuyu. When he began to freeze the blood in others' veins with his name alone.