Ash and Honey [BL]

Ghastly thin fingers took hold of Wan Yu's shoulders, and his face was inches away from a white mask. He startled, frozen for only a moment before wriggling away.

While the masked man might have looked like his teacher, his body language wasn't gentle, and it certainly wasn't familiar. Fu Ran was often the type to flinch or approach with care rather than make unprompted invasions of personal space.

That being said, down to every curve, the man looked identical.

The man with the white mask chuckled, his voice echoing behind the offending accessory. He extended his hands, mimicking a familiar gesture. "Kuwei Jun, come here."

A horrifying frigidity washed over Wan Yu, as if his blood had drained away. Of all things, why that name? His eyes widened, and his fingers crossed his sword.

And yet, the man continued to speak. "Your Shizun has come to pick you up." His voice was so similar in fluctuations to the way Fu Ran spoke that Wan Yu had trouble picking apart the differences.

However, his coaxing was done with the clear intention of manipulation. He curled his fingers, ushering the boy to come closer, but Wan Yu shook his head.

Wan Yu felt like his hair was standing on end, and through his clenched teeth, he hissed, "Who are you?" He moved his foot backward a single step, but the masked man matched him forward.

The sounds of festivities hadn't faltered, and ghosts walked by left and right. They might have shared a passing glance, but none of them reacted boldly. The masked man made no sudden movements, and even the steps of his bare feet were gentle and even against the cobblestone.

"What have you done?" Wan Yu was growing bolder now that the initial shock of the man's presence had worn off. "What have you done with my Shijie?"

She was last seen with him, after all—running straight toward him before she vanished into the crowd. Lin An must have been captive at this man's hands. Although Wan Yu couldn't figure out why.

"Your Shijie? That child? She still breathes." He clarified, but trusting words alone would have been foolish.

"Do you doubt your master's word?" The man moved before Wan Yu could answer, and his thumb pressed between the ceramic mask and his skin. A sliver of his face could be seen.

An eerie glow of lavender orbs sat just above dark, sunken eye bags.

The reaction was visceral, like Wan Yu felt an intense shudder up his spine. That face was undoubtedly familiar. From the soft paleness of his lips to the shape of his eyes and even his nose—unmistakably his Shizun.

"I can… take you to them."

Them? Both of them? Wan Yu had only seen Lin An vanish at his hands, and yet the man implied that there was another? His expression didn't lie, and yet it shifted unsettlingly. Not only did he know the whereabouts of Lin An, but Meng Xiao too?

Wan Yu swallowed.

By normal standards, the entrance exam was more horrifying and deadly, and yet in this particular scene, he couldn't force his feet to move. It would have been much smarter to run away, but with his martial sect siblings in danger, he didn't know what to do.

The man placed the mask back on his face, and yet his fist twisted like he was becoming impatient. That alone was an act polar opposite to what Fu Ran would have done.

And yet, he breathed a sigh. "I disdain crude force. Shall I propose a bargain instead?"

The words had caught Wan Yu's attention, and he stifled down a question, holding his footing steady instead. "A bargain?"

"Wouldn't you prefer I release your Shijie and Shixiong right before your eyes? Right now, they are a little… tied up with other matters."

Wan Yu paused. 

Even if he confirmed the sightings of walking corpses were just ghosts, even if he uncovered the truth, the mission would still be a failure if he returned without Lin An or Meng Xiao.

His eyes trailed up and down the masked man before him.

His body was thin, yet he still appeared to retain more muscle than Fu Ran. Even though he was only equipped with an iron rod with a lantern on the end, the way he held it was practiced, as if it were a blade.

If this man knew how to use even an ounce of the spiritual energy that he exuded right now, then he would be difficult to defeat.

"I…" Wan Yu lowered his gaze and pointed the tip of his sword down to the ground. "I'll go." He could run all he wanted, but if he never found the others, then what good would that be?

The chances of escape would be better if all three of them could work as a group.

"Good." The man in the mask cocked his head and placed his palms together. An expression of a smile couldn't be seen, but his body language was positive. And he turned on his heel to lead the way. Past the stalls of cooked food and the mouthwatering scent of rice and steamed vegetables—all the way to the end of the town, where no ghost lanterns could reach.

The side of the town was completely encompassed in darkness. Jinan had smothered any stars that littered the sky, and soon the cobblestone path became dirt.

A farmhouse stood alone in the middle of a vast, empty field. The structure was dark against the night sky, except for a single flickering lantern hanging outside the front door.

He didn't want to go there.

A set of footsteps trailed behind him, not even a full five steps away. A presence against his back, ominously chilling and cold like ice.

The masked man was in no hurry. He walked like he'd already made a promise—that if Wan Yu ran now, he could simply injure the two other disciples. Wan Yu clenched his teeth. He hated it. Hated the way his instincts screamed against it.

The field stretched endlessly before him, every step sinking into the damp earth. His boots crushed patches of wild grass and scattered pebbles. The farmhouse loomed closer, its worn wooden frame barely holding together. The roof sagged at the corners, and gaps in the walls made it easy to see straight through to the other side.

In front of the entrance, old hay rotted in a waterlogged, matted mess. The smell of mildew clung to the air. No animals stirred. No signs of life. Even the trees in the distance stood still, as if holding their breath.

Then, just as he reached the steps, something shifted in the dark. Through a crack in the wall, barely visible in the flickering lantern light, he saw a flash of movement inside. A figure accompanied with banging.

Steady. Deliberate.

"How noisy," Fu Ran's imposter said.

Wan Yu exhaled sharply and ascended the porch. The banging continued, Most likely Meng Xiao, defiant even in captivity. A relentless pulse echoing through the weathered boards, until Wan Yu pushed open the door.

"Shijie! Shixiong!" His voice pierced the gloom as he crossed the threshold into the dim light.

Lin An lay sprawled on the floor, fallen blossoms scattered around her. Meng Xiao hunched against a bedpost, ropes biting into his wrists. Tattered fabric against his lips kept him from screaming, but the raw wood near his feet was proof of his furious kicks. 

Wan Yu knelt, his blade flashing before severing the bindings. Meng Xiao tore the cloth free and hissed, "Ah! Took you long enough, baby!"

Wan Yu's eyebrow twitched. For a moment he considered tying him back up. 

From all the noise Lin An blinked awake too, loose flowers falling away from her form. She startled at the sight of the young boy, but then she beamed. "Wan Yu!" She surged forward, catching him in a crushing embrace. "You're okay!"

"I'm glad—" Wan Yu wheezed, caught in her grasp.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Meng Xiao didn't give Wan Yu much room to explain, as he was suddenly drawn to attention. His voice was not directed at either of the two younger disciples, but instead at the door. 

Wan Yu in comparison, was unsurprised.