As the Ghost King slowly relaxed in the hot water, a flood of memories slowly but inexorably returned. Memories he had suppressed since his battle with Weijie. Memories of battlefields, blood, death, and lost hope.
Screams pierced his ears. Piercing, desperate screams. Screams of pain, of hopelessness. His shattered body felt nothing. With his eyes closed, trapped in a world of memories and dreams, he could do nothing but remember the screams.
With them came images, flickering before his inner eye, at first shadowy and shapeless, then taking shape.
He found himself on a battlefield, he couldn't tell which one. He had fought so many wars and taken so many lives.
A conflagration raged around him, and he felt the insane smile on his lips. How he had watched with joy as people stumbled through the streets filled with mud and blood, engulfed in flames.
Someone called him, but the name was old, unfamiliar, a name he hadn't heard in a very long time. Only when the person knelt down directly in front of him did the words reach him.
"Your Highness... Prince Qiao... Qiao Guan!" Something stirred inside him when he saw the figure. A man, perhaps in his late twenties or early thirties, knelt before him. He looked up at him imploringly.
"Your Highness, please... I beg you," he whimpered.
His black hair was disheveled, he was covered in blood, and his eyes were filled with a despair that burned deep into Chengzhu's soul. He was royalty? Yes, he was a king, he was the Ghost King.
"Qiao Guan?" The man clung to his robe.
Chengzhu looked down, the indifference in him giving way to another feeling. Was it... fear? He hadn't felt fear in a long time, but when he found the man whimpering and kneeling before him, he felt fear. Something ominous welled up inside him. He stretched out his hands.
"Jiahu!" No sooner had he uttered the name than the day returned with all its force. He couldn't react quickly enough when Jiahu looked up at him, a spark of hope glimmering in his eyes.
He opened his mouth, his lips forming the word "Your Highness." But at that moment, an arrow pierced the back of his head, and one of his eyes, filled with hope, was mercilessly pierced.
"JIAHU!" he roared as the man slumped in his arms. Memories mingled with the present.
"Brother Zhi?" Qing lai brought him out of his feverish thoughts. He opened his eyes. Qing lai was sitting across from him.
Zhi Cheng blinked and looked at Qing lai. His slim but toned upper body was covered in scars. Some were fading, some would never completely disappear.
His wet hair was stuck to his body, and Zhi Cheng suppressed the urge to pull each strand away from his skin. He focused on the bright, golden eyes and red lips. The hot water had given Qing Lai's usually pale complexion a slight pink hue.
Zhi Cheng submerged his hands under the water and clenched them into fists. Enough of this nonsense, he told himself sharply. He exhaled deeply.
"Yes?" was all he could manage. Qing Lai looked at him for a moment. His gaze held the scarlet eyes of the former Ghost King as if he could see something in them.
"Hm!" was all he said, then he leaned back and closed his eyes. Hm!? Zhi Cheng opened his mouth. What was that?
"Brother Qing, if you have something to say, then say it," he snapped at him angrily. Qing lai smiled gently.
"I just called you by your name, didn't I?" he asked abruptly. Zhi Cheng narrowed his eyes.
"Are you already suffering from forgetfulness, Brother Qing? Of course you called me by my name!" he replied angrily. Qing Lai opened his eyes again and looked at Zhi Cheng.
"I mean, it wasn't a lie. In front of the mountain spirit and his wife, you spoke over me, I just wanted to check and be sure. Zhi Cheng...cheng," he said quietly, hoarsely, and Zhi Cheng took a sharp breath.
There it was again, the gentle, understanding, and slightly goofy pacifist was gone. In his place, the sharp eyes of a man sparkled at him, a man to whom nothing was hidden and no lie escaped.
Zhi Cheng returned his gaze, although his heart was racing and he wanted nothing more than to hold Qing Lai's blond head under water until he stopped moving, but he didn't move. After a long while, they heard footsteps and the woman's voice rang out.
"I have laid out your new clothes, gentlemen. Would you like something to eat?" she asked. Qing lai jumped up, but Zhi Cheng was faster.
"No, thank you, we'll be leaving soon," he replied. It was better not to take advantage of the hospitality of spirits. Needless to say, their food was inedible, most of it even poisonous to mortals. If you gave up your cover, you could quickly end up on the menu yourself.
He leaned toward Qing lai until they were almost touching and whispered in his ear.
"We should go while they're still friendly, Brother Qing." Qing lai nodded. The watchful expression in his eyes had faded, and now he looked more like the carefree, peace-loving pacifist whose face he wanted so much to preserve.
After Qing Lai had been given new undergarments and had put on the long, high-necked robe with a wide, dark blue belt, he stood in front of Zhi Cheng.
"It fits, doesn't it?" he asked, turning around a little.
If a god were to descend to earth, even he would kneel before you, Zhi Cheng thought. Qing lai's hair now shone, now that all the dust and dirt had been washed away. His pale skin contrasted almost imperceptibly with the long robe that caressed his body.
Only the belt that hugged his waist as tightly as Zhi Cheng would have liked to do showed a little color. Qing Lai asked the boar for a few lengths of fabric, which he wrapped around his forearms, then beamed at Zhi Cheng.
The latter had thrown on a multi-layered hanfu made of red and black silk. The wide robe offered enough space to hide all sorts of things, as did the artistically crafted wide belt. He let his fan dangle from a tassel at his waist. He cleared his throat.
"White is pretty boring and gets dirty quickly!" he remarked, looking highly satisfied as Qing lai's smile faded.
Giving this fool a little slap on the wrist every now and then was more than satisfying.
"Then it'll be washed and replaced. Don't complain when I have to sew your clothes with white thread, or you'll just end up walking around half naked again!" he replied gruffly.
Zhi Cheng blinked. Was he... offended? Qing lai thanked the boar and his wife before stomping out of the shop. Zhi Cheng grabbed the remains of his purse before running after him.
"Brother Qing, I didn't mean it like that!" he said conciliatorily when he caught up with him on the street. But Qing Lai just pointed to a multi-story inn with lanterns and red flags fluttering in the wind, which was quite a distance ahead of them.
"See, Brother Zhi, that's the Qianjing. The largest and most popular inn in all of Chaisang. Do you think you can afford it?" he asked. Zhi Cheng followed the finger pointing into the night and nodded, perplexed.
"But why the Qianjing?" he asked suspiciously. Was Qing Lai trying to get money out of him out of revenge? Because he had dared to criticize his style of dress. Was he that petty?
Qing Lai nodded contentedly.
"Brother Zhi, don't look at me like that, you wanted to leave the ghost couple as soon as possible!" he laughed. Zhi Cheng tilted his head, so Qing lai's outburst had been just a feint.
In fact, they had left the store without looking back. Zhi Cheng took a deep breath. Qing Lai was a whirlwind in his life; he never knew what was coming next.
"Qianjing has everything you need: food, a warm bed, and information galore. Where do you think a businessman like Bo Cheng would regularly go?" Qing Lai replied to his question. Zhi Cheng just nodded.
"We have to find out what poison the barbarians were transporting for him, who he's making it for, or what he's using it for," Qing lai said more seriously.
"First of all, we should get a hot meal," Zhi Cheng decided. Even though he didn't need food, he could taste it and understand the pleasure it gave, and Qing Lai hadn't looked well for days. As a mortal, he desperately needed something to eat. Qing Lai laughed nervously as he rubbed his stomach.
"You're right, we should eat something first," he agreed.
The Qianjing was gigantic; standing directly in front of it, you couldn't even see the top floor. The huge estate not only included the pagoda-shaped inn, where you could dine depending on how much money you had. The rich were upstairs, the nobles in the middle, and the commoners on the lowest floor.
There was also a complex of several rooms where you could spend the night. For a city like Chaisang, which welcomed visitors from all corners of the country every day, Qianjing was the hub and first port of call.
"Brother Qing, that looks expensive!" remarked Zhi Cheng, weighing his purse anxiously.
"It is," confirmed Qing Lai.
"We could get information elsewhere," suggested Zhi Cheng.
"We could also take the quiet, well-considered, and prudent route, Brother Zhi. One without corpses," countered Qing Lai. Zhi Cheng sighed; if it had to be, he conceded defeat.
When they entered, Zhi Cheng felt overwhelmed by the sheer mass of people. Although it was already quite late, the tavern was still crowded with drunk, loud, smelly people.
Zhi Cheng wrinkled his nose, but Qing lai pulled him further toward the bar and threw his purse full of gold taels on it. The waiter took the purse and glanced inside before his mouth broke into a friendly grin.
"Would the gentlemen like to dine together in the middle pavilion, or would they prefer a private room with discreet service?" he asked.
Zhi Cheng's eyes widened. His last savings would barely be enough for the middle pavilion? He was about to lean over to Qing lai and tell him that if he gave him an hour, he would come back with enough gold to buy the hut, when Qing lai already agreed with a beaming smile.
The waiter led them to one of the upper dining rooms. It was a little quieter here, but the appraising glances of the other guests did not really improve the atmosphere.
Qing Lai and Zhi Cheng sat down behind a screen made of bamboo and thin silk embroidered with a landscape. One of the dancers noticed the new guests and elegantly crept up to them.
But when she tried to place her hands on Qing Lai's shoulders, she couldn't get a hold of him. Although it only looked as if he was moving slightly, he deftly avoided the courtesan's hands. Zhi Cheng watched the spectacle with amusement, but when the woman became more insistent, he cleared his throat.
"My friend doesn't like to be touched, as you can see. Go and take care of other guests!" he reprimanded her sternly.