The wind was cold, reflecting the state of the tea sitting inside the cup he hasn't touched since it was served to him. His neck was numb from holding his head down for so long. Not that he had the strength to lift it up and direct his gaze towards the man sitting across him.

"Jin," Han-Xi's voice floated in the small distance between them. His eyes stayed on the intricate weavings of the mats they sat on. "Won't you talk to me?"

His voice didn't work, nor did he bother making sure it did. Time meant nothing to him. It didn't matter if they're here for a minute or an hour. Maybe more. Eternity both existed and became extinct in his mind.

Out of nowhere, pain flared from the side of his head, shooting down his neck. He took a sharp breath, hand reaching out to steady himself against the table's rim. His other hand flew to his scalp, fingers digging against his matted hair as the throbbing increased.

Wares clattered in urgency. Shadows shifted and fabric rustled. Something thudded against the floor in synchrony with the sharp beats of pain in his head. Strong grip locked on his arms, stopping him from falling over.

"Jin-Fei," Han-Xi said. "Are you alright?"

The two syllables elicited a searing trail in his mind and memory. Yes, it was his name. He had been called the same set of sounds since he was a child. His mother, siblings, and father before he did all called him that name. He had a life before meeting a man with yellow-hair, the one who offered him a chance to help his family rise from poverty and enter the ranks of the nobility.

But a pit gnawed and deepened in his gut. This wasn't his name. He wasn't Jin-Fei. Wasn't the same boy who spend the afternoons catching fish in a lake that froze all the way during winter. He wasn't the boy his mother raised nor was he the man sitting with Han-Xi inside a secluded mansion deep in the forest, far from prying eyes.

His memories and thoughts weren't his. No matter how hard he tried, ever since he woke up in this mansion three sunsets ago, he had never felt connected to the body he had been using to get around. It's like he was plucked somewhere and shoved inside this elaborate play. That at some point, the audience would explode in applause and reality would come crashing in.

It wasn't a play. Far from it. The pain growing into a monster behind his head and lining his neck felt too real for it to be farce. If he reach up and touch it, he was sure his fingers would come away stained with red. The cold would set in, after his body was thrown into a burning pit. Then, nothing would come after that.

An image speared through his mind, driving a pained cry from him. His fingers dug on the table, knuckles turning white, as he forced himself to stay awake. To look intently on the recessive portrait ripping from the back of his mind.

It was a woman. But she wore two different faces. Her features morphed into a man, then back. Each one were a different person at every shift. Who were these people? Why was he seeing them?

Someone tapped his cheek and his eyes snapped open despite the sunlight stinging them and making the pain in his head double. "Hey, wake up," Han-Xi was saying. The yellow strands looked more amber than gold against the morning rays. He loomed over Jin-Fei, a worrried expression contorting his features. "What's going on? How can I help?"

Jin-Fei noted how his head had come to rest against Han-Xi's shoulder and how his limbs felt so heavy he doubted he could move them an inch. He exhaled once and pushed himself off Han-Xi. "I'm just tired," he said. A far cry from the feeling like someone had just dropped a palace on him. "Thank you for taking the time to be here."

Han-Xi never loosened his grip on Jin-Fei's arms. "I always have to be with you," he said. "You know that, right?"

"Yeah," Jin-Fei answered, his voice already weak. He just wanted to close his eyes and sleep, just so he wouldn't have to deal with everything coming at him from all directions. He extracted himself off Han-Xi, who reluctantly released him, and crept towards the mattress he hadn't bothered fixing when he rolled off it when Han-Xi arrived earlier. A certain relief eased the pain in his head when his cheek hit the soft pillow and his body relaxed on its own terms.

Sleep stole him from the world, but never from his mind. The faces he saw had now morphed into horrifying displays of despair and fear. They flashed in his mind in quick succession to rival blinking, burying deeper and deeper into his consciousness even though he never wanted them to. Faces frozen in mid-scream, eyes wide and dripping with terror, expressions twisted into misery and grief. It's too much, especially when he could hear them echoing. Ringing in the void.

Then, the faces belonged to bodies. And one by one, they fell forward and landed on a sea of red. When Jin-Fei reached out and tested the waters, his fingers came away thick with warmth and life.

Blood.

His eyes snapped open, his breaths coming in hitching gasps and pained groans. He shot up, clutching his head in both hands just to get the images and the stench of blood out of his senses. Someone screamed his name—one that didn't belong to him—and arms wrapped around his shoulders.

"It's just a dream," Han-Xi was muttering against Jin-Fei's scalp. It wasn't the voice Jin-Fei wanted to hear now, but he had no idea whose it was he was expecting either. "It's just a dream."

They didn't feel like they were though. But Jin-Fei took it because he didn't have a better explanation. He glanced at the sky outside the window to note that the bright blue had changed into a deep orange. It's sunset already? How long had he slept? And how long would it be before he would be able to do it again?

Jin-Fei sagged against Han-Xi and sighed. Everything seemed to have become heavier by the second. Even sleep couldn't lift some of the burden. What else should he try? "Tell me something," he said, his voice barely a whisper.

A light kiss brushed against his scalp. "Anything," Han-Xi said.

"Why can't I go out and see my family?" Jin-Fei asked. "I miss them."

Han-Xi's grip around him tightened. "We talked about that," he replied.

Jin-Fei peeled off Han-Xi to search the man's green eyes. He found nothing, not even the barest flicker of truth. "And the library?" he prodded. "Why can't we go in it together?"

"You should eat something," Han-Xi turned to the low table near the mattress. The cups of tea have now been replaced with a small feast of dishes. There's no way he could finish all that. "You don't look good."

Well, such a shame. Maybe he was going insane and all Han-Xi was worried about was how Jin-Fei's going to look. "I'm fine," he insisted. "I'm just tired. I slept, and I'm alright now. You don't need to worry."

Han-Xi narrowed his eyes. Jin-Fei doubted those ever miss anything. He's going to catch up to Jin-Fei's lies soon enough. But until then, Jin-Fei's going to keep playing his cards until they run out and he's forced to surrender.

To his relief, Han-Xi blew a breath and straightened. His feet scratched against the woven mats on his way to the door. "I have to step out for a moment," Han-Xi said.

"Where are you going?" Jin-Fei dared to ask.

Han-Xi slid the door to the spacious room open and was about to step out when he paused and glanced at Jin-Fei past a shoulder. "To get rid of pests," was all he said, his eyes hardening in a way Jin-Fei had never thought possible. Then, the door slid between them, locking Jin-Fei in place.

Han-Xi was free.

Silence settled on the house. Even the bird calls stilled—uncharacteristic inside a forest as dense as this. With weighed-down limbs, Jin-Fei crept towards the lone window facing the horizon. Not a breeze blew across, ruffling his hair and make the canopies rustle. Not a whiff of woodland and upturned earth greeted him when he took a deep breath.

It was quiet. Too quiet.

His teeth dug against his lips. Han-Xi wasn't here now, was he? It's not like the man would know if Jin-fei was to step out for a short moment. Besides, he could use the walk and the change in atmosphere. Might help with his sleep schedule and...that.

So, he pulled himself to his feet and shuffled out of the room. He tucked his feet into worn boots and began the trek down the mountain. The weight ebbed off his shoulders and loosened their grip around his limbs as his steps lengthened and the earth's pull led him further. See? It's already doing miracles.

He inhaled the forest's air. The pain in his head never really dulled but the images never came. His neck didn't feel like it's being chewed on by a fanged horse too. His sole stepped on a root. It crumbled under his weight. The sound echoed in the undergrowth.

Iron flashed in his periphery. He scrambled aside, but not fast enough. Something cold and sharp brushed against his cheek. The sound of metal thwacking against wood came after. Then, it was silent again.

"Dear spirits, I'm sorry!" a voice rang behind a rowdy bush with blue, bell-shaped flowers. Footsteps crunched against the roots and fallen leaves. A woman dressed in a somber fenhai and trousers tucked into hunting boots crept into his line of vision. "Are you alright? I didn't hit anything vital, did I?"

Jin-Fei blinked. Looking back at the trunk behind him, he noted the arrow that might have skewered him instead sticking out of it. "No, thank the spirits," he said. He felt another presence draw near to him. "Good shot, though."

She chuckled. When he whirled back to her, his eyes widened. "Thank you. I've been practicing my aim since my father gave me a bow. I still can't get some angles but I have most figured out," she was saying. Her words blurred in his ears, his attention only ever focused on how her features were arranged. It was familiar. He had seen her before. But...where?

"How about you? I have never seen you before. Do you live here? What's your name?" she beamed at him.

The only thing that bled out of his lips was, "Run."

She knitted her eyebrows. "Huh?" she tilted her head to the side. "Why should I?"

Something snapped inside him and he gripped her arms, startling her. "You should run, Zun-Xiao," he said. The pain and the images have returned, making him close his eyes and shake his head as he held on to her to stay upright. "I don't know, but I..."

"What's happening to me?" he asked.

Zun-Xiao answered, but with a confused inflection. "How did you know my name?"

He stepped back and ducked his head at her. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to overstep my boundaries," he said. "Ignore what I said. It's nice to meet you."

One look at the setting sun and the darknening sky told him Han-Xi might come back soon. "I have to go now," he said.

Then, he was sprinting back up the mountain even before Zun-Xiao could get a word in. He slammed the door shut to his room when he had torn through the house. It was still quiet, not a movement out of place. Han-Xi wasn't back yet.

Jin-Fei swallowed a lungful of air and rested his back on his door lined with paper-thin sheets. Slowly, he slid down and rested his head on his knees. Zun-Xiao. He knew her name without even trying. He couldn't bring himself to think about how and why.

Because he saw her face in the visions and if they weren't dreams, then they could only be one thing.

It's Fate.

And if he's right, then Zun-Xiao was going to end up in red.

He exhaled, his breath coming out shaky. Time faded in his senses, told only by the deepening darkness beyond his window. He only lifted his head from his knees when shadows danced behind the walls to his room and familiar thumps of footsteps creaked against the floorboards.

Jin-Fei stood up and yanked the door open. His eyes landed on Han-Xi, standing in front of his room. A deadly spark settled on his green eyes, turning them a deadly shade of crimson. The shadows of the forest and the night shrouded most of his features, defining his jaw and his nose, making his gaze grimmer.

And running down his cheek and his fenhai, staining the strands of his hair and the corners of his lips...was something Jin-Fei saw only in his head and never thought he'd see before him.

Blood.