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His eyes felt heavy, he could no longer bear the tiredness he was carrying, so he turned off the laptop on which he had been chatting with March and Stelle for a while and got ready to sleep, the great laziness he felt gave him the idea of simply going to sleep in his day clothes, but he didn't, instead, he gathered his energy to finish his day as he should. Being out all day exploring that small village had exhausted him quite a bit.
Despite being almost an hour away from a big city, the village kept the history of hundreds of years ago as intact as possible, it was as if time had stopped for them, and this could be seen in the style of their wooden houses, including the one he was staying in. This fascinated Dan Heng, walking through the streets of the village was like traveling back in time, a unique and magical feeling, something he totally needed to get away from the rushed city life, full of expectations and overwhelming pressure on his shoulders. Besides, it was quite peaceful, as it had little more than thirty inhabitants, who were quite welcoming and received him with joy, especially an elderly woman who soon took a liking to him and joyfully told him anecdotes combined with one or two stories of the history of the village, and of course, Dan Heng listened to her with great attention.
Tomorrow, he had a busy day ahead of him, as he wanted to go to the two museums that granny recommended, or maybe he would go to the historical monument to the heroes of the village, and in the afternoon, he would help granny with some preparations for the traditional commemorative dance that would take place the day after tomorrow, which coincided with his last day of stay. It wasn't his obligation to help, of course, after all those were his days off, but he simply felt the need to help.
He drifted off into a dream as soon as he closed his eyes. Or maybe it was a nightmare? Everything was quite confusing, all he could see was chaos everywhere, people running, fleeing, and loud noises in the distance, were they gunshots or cannons? Maybe both. For some reason Dan Heng, or whoever he thought he was, was standing in the middle of the crowd giving signals to the people, he seemed to be guiding them somewhere far away from the disaster, most of them were women with panicked faces and children in tears.
"Keep going! Don't stop!"
Was that his voice...? No... This one was slightly deep, or rather mature.
"Doctor Dan Feng, there are more people injured!" A boy of around seventeen exclaimed as he approached, his face was that of someone who saw things no one would ever want to.
"I'm coming right away! Evacuate as many as possible into the main city!" Dan... Feng… replied?
Dan Feng paused for a few seconds to look back in the direction of where the battle was taking place. Although he didn't fully understand what was happening or why, Dan Heng could feel the anguish in his heart as if he had lived that moment firsthand, immeasurable fear of an uncertain outcome, but Dan Feng was a strong and capable man, he could feel it, the people needed him and he would not waver in the face of the situation.
The scene suddenly changed. He was now in what appeared to be a house, he could deduce that this was at a time before or after the disaster, for there was no screaming, gunshots, nor was he distressed as in the previous scenario. What he noticed was that this fear had been replaced by a deep regret that had taken root in every inch of his body. In front of him was a round mirror and a small table with a few objects, which whatever he was doing, gave the feeling of not yet being finished, as if it was just in the process of being decorated. On it were two images, one of a pair of men in the middle of what appeared to be a festival; he couldn't make out their faces, so he focused on the only feature he could see, one had white hair and the other black hair, the second image was just a portrait of the white-haired man. There were also candles and incense on the table, as well as what appeared to be a single bracelet carefully placed next to the image of the white-haired man, which now that he noticed, was the same as the one his ‘dream-self’ was wearing.
His eyes opened slowly after that. The room was still dark, so he could tell it was still night, but something had woken him up. It was then that he saw it, the moment his gaze traveled lazily around the room, it came to a screeching halt as he saw a white-haired man sitting in the single armchair about three feet away at the end of the bed. Dan Heng's heart skipped a beat and then pounded violently against his chest, his breathing quickened and his face paled, he was in shock unable to do anything but look at that silhouette a few feet away from him. He wanted to scream, to hide, but his body didn't respond.
The specter did nothing but stare at him with those two purple stars and a face painted in melancholy. The man tilted his head slightly and moved his mouth as if he was saying something, but no sound came out and Dan Heng had no head to try to read his lips, he was too scared even though the ghost didn't seem to have any hostile intentions against him. When there was no response, the man simply gave him a slight, longing smile that for some reason went straight to his heart, and that was all it took for the terror to vanish in a flash, as if he had never known fear. Out of nowhere, tears began to escape from his emeralds thus clouding his vision, Dan Heng was unable to determine precisely if he was crying from shock or from the strong sense of sadness that suddenly invaded his being. By the time he managed to clear his vision a little after several blinks, the white-haired man was no longer there.
Without knowing at what point under the mantle of the night and with that affable smile permeating his thoughts that now served as his lullaby, Dan Heng drifted off to sleep.
☆
“Oh, that's strange," Granny remarked as she handed Dan Heng a box of freshly baked muffins. “That's the first I've heard of such behavior from Yingxing. So, he noticed it too huh?”
“Yingxing? Noticed what...?”
“I can tell you about him, though you'll probably understand better if you go to the museum which was his home at the time.”
Dan Heng had already read a little about the history of the place, reason why he had a general idea of what had happened, although of course, he was never interested in reading the ghost stories that were shared on the internet, seeing is believing and he was skeptical, he didn't believe in those stories. Never in his life would he have thought that he would have such a close encounter with a ghost, and from what the old lady told him, it was the first time that this spirit, Yingxing, presented himself in this way to someone, so close.
Its history goes back several centuries. Despite the appearance of the town full of nature and tranquility, there was a time when the place was much bigger than it is today, it had more than two hundred inhabitants at the time, a place full of life and prosperity, until one fateful day they fell victim to civil war due to the side to which they belonged. The vast majority of the houses were burned to ashes, the victims were quite a few, but thanks to the group of warriors who came out in defense of their people managed to avoid the losses were greater, as they made the enemies retreat as reinforcements arrived from the main city, basically the village functioned as a cruel shield to prevent them from approaching the real goal of their enemies. Finally, they managed to overcome a battle that anyone would give as lost, although it was at a very high cost since many of the heroes fell in combat. One of them is Yingxing, an insightful and charismatic lieutenant, especially praised for his exploits on the battlefield as well as his creations of great utility during the war. His husband was not far behind in terms of the importance he had during the civil war, a magnificent doctor who thanks to his leadership, resilience, and adaptability earned an important place in the resistance, mainly as a strategist.
Many of the survivors fled the village, many of them having lost their homes after all, and also out of fear that the situation would get even worse. Yingxing perished in the war; Dan Feng lived to see the culmination of it a couple of months later, and along with other villagers stayed to rebuild part of the place that gave them so many fond memories, leaving as a legacy the small village it is today.
According to what people say, spirits don't realize that they are no longer alive when they die in violent situations, others are left grieving because they have unresolved issues, or because of being strongly tied to a place.
Yingxing's presence was nothing new to the locals, and over the years they noticed that he was more likely to appear around the time of the memorial dance that took place every December, his sightings always being in what was his home or in his backyard. Some said that he acted as if he was looking for someone, or at least that was the conclusion reached by intrepid villagers (and even paranormal-loving tourists) who dared to approach his home in the middle of the night with a flashlight in hand to unveil the mystery of his appearances.
As one legend has it, the last minutes of his life were spent in such unbearable regret that it was no longer clear whether he was in agony from physical pain or emotional torment. "Dan Feng, I love you. I'm sorry," those were supposedly his last words in a broken voice, struggling more and more to hold on to the life that was slipping away like water through his fingers, as one last tear fell from his amethyst eyes, taking with it his last remnant of vitality.
Or at least that was the supposed account that allegedly came from a colleague who stood by his side and witnessed him die. Passed down from generation to generation, and making more than one person's heart creak as his husband was the only thing that went through his mind in his last moments. What was he apologizing for? No one knew, many details had been lost and others distorted over the centuries, giving rise to people making their own assumptions, both good and bad.
With that context, it was natural for people to believe that his spirit was still here in search of his beloved, sunk in the unbearable regret of having left his husband, and waiting for an eternity to meet again. And that was the same ghost that never showed itself face to face to anyone, so the fact that it appeared in Dan Heng's room was unprecedented.
Whatever it was, Dan Heng felt a strong need to know why Yingxing appeared that way before him, to know who he was, to understand him beyond what the history books and rumors said.
At first, Dan Heng cautiously entered the home (now a museum) of Yingxing and Dan Feng, and the same place where Dan Feng spent his last days. The small museum was lonely, after all, it wasn't tourist season and the only one in charge of guarding the place when someone entered was waiting for him in the courtyard chatting with someone else.
Dan Heng could not describe the atmosphere of the place in words. For a ‘haunted’ place, it felt warm, nostalgic, and familiar, as if it was a place where he used to be. It was that same connection you feel when you return to the park you used to play in as a child after so many years.
That place was like a memory of a dream. A dream he hadn't had yet.
Dan Heng's feet felt light and he easily found his way through the corridors absorbing every detail that caught his attention; it was indeed a new place for him, but he didn't feel lost or foreign at all. His wariness was quickly replaced by curiosity, especially when he stumbled upon a small table where a mirror hung on the wall, unlit candles, and a painted portrait of Yingxing and Dan Feng at what appeared to be a festival. It immediately clicked for him, he could recognize this setting despite the various missing objects and slight modifications, it was very similar to what he saw in his dreams. For a few moments, he observed it all, uncertain of what to do as a part of him told him to take the image, while the other part stopped him because of the signs asking people not to touch anything. In an impulse governed by his curiosity, he decided to grab it, removing some dust from the painting frame to observe it better.
"So this was Dan Feng..." Dan Heng thought. In his dreams he couldn't see his face, as he saw everything from his perspective, but now that he knew what he looked like... Would it be unwise to say that they looked fairly similar?
His fingertips went on to tenderly caress Yingxing's face over the glass that protected the painting. He carefully admired his handsome features, there was no doubt that this was the man who had visited him in his room, although the painting didn't do justice to the real thing.
He left the image where it was when he finally felt he could detach himself from it; raising his head he met the mirror, but what he saw wasn't his reflection, but that of a man with black hair like his own, but longer that fell like a waterfall down his back, his features more defined, bright eyes, and clothes that weren't his own, not even from this era. That was Dan Feng.
Dan Heng took a step back in surprise, and without looking away from the image he could tell that it had the same startled expression as he did and followed his movements perfectly, as if he was really seeing himself, but in an older version. He touched his face in disbelief and then brought his hand to the long hair that he physically was unable to feel, but in the mirror, it moved in whatever direction he took it.
Dan Heng shook his head and rubbed his eyes, was he hallucinating? Probably, since when he saw himself in the mirror again, he was him, normal, with short hair, with young or maybe inexperienced eyes, and the same clothes he had been wearing since the morning. He moved a little in front of the mirror as if to make sure he was himself. Everything was as it should be.
Tonight's dreams gave him no respite either.
Figures danced with glee fueled by cheering in what appeared to be a lively festival in the center of the village that was equally decorated in vibrant colors for the special occasion. Gradually other villagers were getting up the courage to dance as well, though not as well as the people designated for the show, of course.
Someone was holding him safe and warm providing reassurance as they watched the spectacle unfold in front of them from their position as part of the audience. He then felt the grip on his waist move to get his attention causing him to turn to look at whoever was next to him meeting bright purple eyes that looked at him playfully.
The white-haired man uttered no word, but that toothy smile said it all. He stood in front of him, leaving his hand on his waist, but with the other taking Dan Feng's hand, thus beginning their spontaneous participation in the dance, and inviting others to join them with their actions. Dan Heng could feel the immense affection they had for each other just by the synchronized way they moved and the mischievous glances they exchanged. He could almost swear that their hearts were beating in unison. The celebration was for the townspeople, but the night seemed tailor-made for these two lovers who swore eternal love to each other in every caress with the moon and the stars as their witness on that jovial occasion.
The scenery changed from one moment to the other turning the joyful feelings to bitter ones. Yingxing was hastily getting ready, probably to fight, he could hear the bustle outside the house and the worry plastered on his face.
“You know I can fight, Yingxing," said the black-haired man who seemed to urgently want to convince his husband.
“I have never doubted your abilities, Dan Feng. I am fully aware of what you are capable of, but they need you. You're the best doctor here, and the people trust you completely. It's best if you stay to tend to the wounded.”
“But you...”
Yingxing interrupted him by approaching him and gently placing his hand on his husband's cheek, stroking his skin in circles in an attempt to reassure him and let him know that everything would be all right.
“I'll be back no matter what," he said softly and planted a kiss on the back of Dan Feng's hand. “I promise.”
Yingxing walked to the door and slung his musket over his shoulder.
“Save that kiss on the lips, love. You will give it to me when I return.”
There it was again, that arrogant smile and crescent-shaped eyes, the perfect combination of an insufferable but charming man like no other. That was the last he saw of him.
☆
His eyes opened slowly amid the darkness of the room dimly lit by the moonlight and starlight streaming through the thin curtain. Something had awakened him again.
He wanted to look at the couch just as he had the night before, but immediately found what he was looking for without going any further. The ghost was sitting on his bed, and now that he was paying attention, he could actually feel its weight. The initial shock was quickly eclipsed by calm.
They both stared at each other, this time he felt an immense tranquility compared to the first time they met. Simply existing in the moment.
Dan Heng remembered the story the lovely granny told him, what he saw in the home of the man in front of him, and the two dreams he had had. It was then that he understood it all: war, love, and a promise. A promise Yingxing could not keep, a kiss he could not give, and a love he could not return to. Yingxing was indeed looking for someone just as the villagers had deduced, and that was his husband. He couldn't leave without saying goodbye, without seeing each other one more time, even if he had to defy death itself or spend an eternity to be reunited again.
Yingxing brought his ghostly hand to Dan Heng's cheek, caressing him tenderly and cautiously as if he didn’t want Dan Heng to vanish like smoke no matter how absurd that sounded. Dan Heng could recognize this action; it was exactly the same one he saw in his dream a few moments ago when he said goodbye to Dan Feng before leaving for war. But this time Yingxing wanted to give them a different ending.
Without further ado, Dan Heng closed his eyes knowing what was about to happen, something he also desired. Soon after he felt a peculiar pressure on his lips, a coldness on contact that lasted only a couple of seconds and left him wanting more. A flower bloomed in his heart with petals of sadness that wanted to come off in the shape of tears that would make him savor one by one how much he missed someone he didn't even know.
"I'm sorry." Dan Heng heard in a whisper that echoed in his mind and shook his body. The urge to cry betrayed him.
He wanted to hug him, to tell him that it was okay and that he didn't have to apologize for not keeping his promise, that Dan Feng never blamed him for anything and always loved him until the last second of his life, he could swear it as if he had been there himself, he just knew it, he felt it deep inside him, but when he opened his eyes Yingxing was no longer in the room. He was gone, leaving behind a Dan Heng longing for a love that he never experienced.
☆
The wind gently moved his dark hair and tenderly kissed his skin in the same way that his long eyelashes caressed his cheekbones, the cold of the breeze contrasted with the warmth of the sun's rays that in the middle of winter were merciful, lulling him where he stood, offering him comfort. In any other context, the day would be an ordinary one, but his mind flitted over what had happened the previous two days, especially yesterday, still feeling Yingxing's presence on his lips wanting to relive the moment through his memories.
In front of it was a memorial stone with all the names that could be salvaged of those who gave their lives during the Civil War. Yingxing's name being among the top ones.
“If you have something to ask, feel free to do so," said the ever so kind old woman, who had guided him to the small hill they were on, which was a little more than five minutes away from the village.
Dan Heng hesitated, but if he didn't do it now, there was no guarantee that he would be able to do it later.
“Do you believe I reminded him of his husband?” the words came out automatically as if they were just waiting for the opportunity to be released.
“Hmm, it's quite possible. I'd be lying if I said I didn't notice your strong resemblance to Dan Feng as soon as I saw you, so I assumed Yingxing noticed it too. Although..." The woman smiled kindly, she was aware of what happened with Yingxing and his dreams; Dan Heng didn't know if it was because of the immediate hospitality she offered or if there was another reason, but Dan Heng felt he could trust her with such things. “Have you thought about the possibility of past lives? Ah... Don't mind me too much, they’re just the ramblings of an old woman," she concluded her comment with a small laugh.
And despite what he said, Dan Heng felt there was more to her words, but just as he wanted to inquire more, a young female voice interrupted them with a bow calling for the older woman to attend to the final touches for the banquet following the memorial dance. The old lady nodded and let the girl leave with the message that she would be coming shortly.
“It's a pity you couldn't stay longer," she added. “We all would’ve loved for you to enjoy the event; you helped us even though these were your days off.”
“Me too. But I have several hours of travel ahead of me, I must leave before the night catches me.”
“I hope to see you here again.”
Dan Heng nodded his head, and after a last smile from the woman, they both went their respective ways.
As he reached the entrance to the village he stopped and turned his head, taking one last look at the town, where in the distance he could just see people going from side to side in a scene similar to the one he saw in his dream when Yingxing asked Dan Feng to dance. There were still so many unanswered questions, so many things he wanted to know about those two.
A small sad smile came to his face, a piece of his heart had been left here after all. To come back... Yes, he would. It was a promise.