A slide of the screen door and he entered that warm room once again. The sun was already setting, so he watched as the handsome man lit the candles in the room. The flames illuminated the milky white skin to give a warm glow. Bai Lan, no… Ying Yue watched as those hands rid him of his pins and hair adornments, loosening his long light blonde hair to drop with a sway down his back. His green eyes just continued to watch the man before him, the man who easily took the name he offered, the man who wiped his tears away, the man who made his heart hurt, yet so full at the same time.
Wang Li removed his outer robe, a soft blue, and folded it to place on the side table. His silver eyes looked into green ones as his hands slid down thin shoulders and arms. He left a small squeeze on those delicate hands, before pausing before the tie at Ying Yue's waist. He saw those emerald eyes blink before nodding and his hands pulled to release the knot. His hands moved to remove the outer robe of his wife, but he could not help sliding his fingers across the curve of delicate neck.
A small gasp escaped his wife's lips and a blossoming pink covered those perfect freckled cheeks. Moving his hands underneath the outer layer to pull them over small shoulders, he leaned down so close to see those thick lashes framing those green eyes. He wants to kiss those lips, but he remembered what had occurred earlier and stepped back. He must not force anything from his wife, but in time Ying Yue will cave to him. When that day comes, there will be no going back, and he welcomed it.
Ying Yue felt… naked, vulnerable before those electric silver eyes, but he also felt… aroused. Gulping down his anxiousness, he waited to see what the Ghost King would do. Was he going to… were they going to… was he ready? Lost in his thoughts, he felt a hand on his lower back leading him to the bed. Pulling back the cover, he slipped under it with his eyes wide watching the beautiful living art. His eyes followed as the man leaned over him, lips barely touching, before Wang Li flipped over to lay beside him.
'So… that's it?' He felt peeved and yet relieved. Upset because… well… wasn't he good enough to be intimate with? Comforted because he wasn't sure if he was ready for… that.
He watched as the model beside him closed his eyes with his arms at his sides. He looked even more beautiful when he slept and that… that was not fair! The frown graced his lips, but quickly left as he watched the rise and fall of his chest. The sound of his soft breathing was lulling him slowly into dreamland and he was scared. What if he doesn't wake up? What if this was just a little trial like those stupid games? What if he does wake up and all this was gone… and he was back to his old boring life wishing his dream man was real?
"I don't want to go back," he whispered quietly to himself as he turned his body to face the other man.
There were still a lot of things he wanted to know about this world, this life, this man. Like a rush, the stories and words of those bastards in gold came flashing through his mind again.
'He ate her because she lied to him.'
'He is heartless and cold.'
'He is strong,' those girls had said, 'If he wasn't strong, they would've killed him already.'
He covered his face as he curled his body like a shrimp. If he told Wang Li the truth, that he was a man and he doesn't even belong here, would he be beaten, tortured, and killed even in death? He would deserve it… right? All day he had been trying to tell the Ghost King that he was a man and not a woman, but every time he got a glimpse of the ethereal man… he forgot about it. Groaning quietly, he let out a deep breath removing his hands on his face. Body still faced the sleeping man, his eyes were staring at a spot where Wang Li's back touched the bed.
"I am a man," he whispered so softly that it sounded like the puffed of a breath, "Tomorrow… I have to tell you."
With that, he closed his green eyes and drifted into a dreamless sleep. Unbeknownst to him, the silver eyes were opened half lidded and a smile was on those thin lips.
Ying Yue woke up the next day, blinking blearily to find he was on the bed alone. He felt a part of his heart shuddered with coldness, as the feeling of abandonment laid its claws into him. Swallowing it in, he sat up and turned to see a new tunic placed where his old one was the night before. This one was a deep pink robe with small white birds decorating the sleeves and collar. It split in the middle to reveal the white skirt stitched to the robe.
"This one definitely looks more like a dress," he told himself as he quickly undressed to slip into the robe, "At least I can move my legs more," he let out a relieved sigh. Fixing himself, he went to pick up the small mirror at the corner. Noticing he didn't look so… pretty, he felt his heart raced slightly. He needed to go speak with the girls, so they can make him presentable. That was all. No way was it related to him wanting to please the Ghost King.
Leaving his room, he went to where he remembered the girls' room was. He may not be smart or handsome, but he had great memory. He patted himself on the back for at least being graced with that skill. Knocking on the panel, he waited but no one answered. Confused, he slid it open slightly to see no one was there. Furrowed brows adorned his face, as he walked to the courtyard. Nearing his destination, he could hear the girls' voices giggling and awing.
"These girls are always so... happy," he said and found himself feeling a little lighter.
He felt relieved to find them and walked over to where they were sitting, but stopped halfway as movement at the corner of his eyes caught him. Turning his head, his blue eyes widened as he watched Wang Li holding a sword. It was like watching a dancer perform intricately, yet skillful and light, of performance given thousands of times. Watching his body stretch and curl, before bending and jumping was like a musician playing a well-worn instrument. His dark hair pulled into a high ponytail swished with every turn and bounced with every hop.
It was beautiful. He was beautiful.
The sound of music filled the space and his eyes looked over to see Yun playing an old instrument. Her fingers were wrapped around the long handle, the pads of some of her fingers were on the two strings. A round sound box sat on her left thigh, while her other hand held the bow. The notes that emitted from it was smooth, sad, and yet so beautiful. Her purple eyes were closed as her head tilted slightly facing the man with the sword.
Ying Yue looked back to Wang Li to see how quickly those steps changed, the swing of his arms, the movement of his swords, and the flow of his robe followed the music effortlessly. Ying Yue could not help watching and staring, drinking in the golden art before him. As he viewed and listened, he started to realize he brought nothing to the table. He wasn't a fighter or knew of any sword techniques. He wasn't a musician and he wasn't a scholar.
Just like his old life… he was useless, just taking up space. Frowning at himself, he took a deep breath and walked toward the man in the courtyard.
"Wang Li," he spoke up as strong as he could, "Teach me."
Yet he was trembling and his breathing was getting hard to breath. Was he going to pass out? Was he going to die? Would he return?
'Would you rather die by your bad heart or by the Ghost King?'
If he was honest with himself, he knew which answer he would choose without a thought.