22 Your Eyes
Ming Cheng was helpless to do what the concubine demanded of him, lifting his head up as demanded by the sharp nail which scraped against his pulse and arteries, ever so slightly, as the warmth and softness of the lady's fingers grasped at the small bones of his jaw.
A finger stroked smoothly over his cheek, as he involuntarily gulped in terror.
He felt his eyes widen as he screamed out," Miss Liu, help!" in his mind to no avail.
The concubine's eyes narrowed as she examined each and every part of his face, turning his head from side to side, looking over each side, searching for something that Ming Cheng did not know.
'Do not worry. She cannot hurt you,' the voice of the ghost called out in Ming Cheng's mind.
'If she harms you in anyway in such a public place, then she will lose her position and everything. She cannot hurt you. Keep your body still and your face blank,' the ghost advised Ming Cheng once more.
He dug his fingers into the palm of his hand and bit the inside of his cheek, forcing his body to experience pain to focus himself. He schooled his facial expressions into blankness, careful to control the furrow of his brow to not indicate any kind of discomfort and resentment.
The concubine paused in her movements and twisted Ming Cheng's face back to directly facing her. She thumbed the bone and the rise of his cheek, under his right eye, forcing Ming Cheng to hold his breath, hesitant to move in the slightest to not offend her.
The world was silent around him, the entirety of Ming Cheng's reality having narrowed down to himself and the woman in front of him, and their one, singular point of contact.
She stared down into his eyes, pinning him into the exact spot where he sat.
He couldn't look away.
He couldn't move.
He couldn't breathe.
The lady took her hand away from his face, and she sat back into her chair, folding her body up back into the immaculate posture that she had been occupying before Ming Cheng approached her, as if nothing had just happened.
'It's safe to take the plate now,' the ghost whispered into Ming Cheng's mind.
Almost as if a pin dropped in the room, breaking the hush that had fallen upon Ming Cheng's world, noise and clarity returned once more.
Ming Cheng quickly glanced around the hall and so no eyes upon him, or the concubine. It was as if their encounter had never happened and he had simply dreamt up the whole incident while under the ludicrous pressure of approaching one of the Emperor's many wives.
Ming Cheng bowed once more, just in case he hadn't done so the first time around, and moved to take the plate away from the table.
His hot, sweaty fingers made obvious condensation marks on the clear, shiny gold surface, revealing the tension that he felt within his body, no matter what the ghost had instructed him to do regarding his face.
The concubine giggled then, and Ming Cheng forced himself to look down to the floor, bringing the tray up to his chest to ready himself for the next and final bow to take his leave from her table and to finally escape from her presence.
Just as he was about to step away from the table, her voice called him back to her," Your eyes look familiar. Who are your parents?"
Ming Cheng flinched, before gulping.
"I was adopted one of the kitchen servants," he answered out, trying to keep his voice as steady as possible, managing his tone to make sure that he wasn't speaking too quickly and didn't sound desperate to leave her and continue on with his tasks.
"Oh really. I haven't heard about it. I'll have to ask my personal retinue about their private lives," the lady replied coolly, fearlessly.
Ming Cheng recognised a threat whenever he heard one, too aware of how they could be made and how they could be used.
If Ming Cheng spoke the wrong answer, one of the other servants would be harmed for the sake of revenge, while if he gave Lan Chang's name to this wicked, vicious woman, then he would be painting a target on her back, and if any real damage was done to her and there was a investigation, he would be implicated easily and could be framed as guilty.
But still, this woman was a concubine, and Ming Cheng was a servant.
There was no choice.
He wanted there to be a choice.
On the streets, there was at least a choice.
Ming Cheng could simply run and hide somewhere else. He could pick up his non-existent meagre belongings and run off to a different part of the city, far away from where he had been currently based. He could have even moved to a different town .
But here, there was no choice.
There was no way for a simple servant like himself to move up in the world.
He would be one face among many, with no opportunity to create something for himself in this place. If he ever wanted to have his own dreams, to have his own feelings towards his masters, he would have to leave this place.
If the palace was under siege, then he would have to die for this woman.
"I have been adopted by Lan Chang," Ming Cheng answered her, swallowing down the bundle of nerves in his throat.
"Oh, I see," she replied, not even a second passing since Ming Cheng had finished his statement.
Her voice was more mellow and relaxed, much less hostile. It was quick, almost flighty.
Ming Cheng bowed once more to her, stepping away as fast as he could politely, returning back to where his friends had all gathered up in a concerned, little huddle.
Lan Chang also stood among them, worry etched into her face.
Ming Cheng gave out a sigh of relief as soon as he reached them.
