"Shangxian, why did you stay with me? And here, in the Demon Kingdom, no less?" The question hung in the air, addressed to an unseen audience. "You knew how dwelling in the Darkness would corrode me over time," her voice carried sadness, melancholy, and perhaps even a hint of pity and resentment.
The wine she had consumed remained ineffective, its promise of oblivion unfulfilled. She lay at the pier's edge, her porcelain fingers tracing her reflection in the water. As they dipped into the liquid, they seemed to dissolve, becoming nearly imperceptible.
The only melody that broke the silence emanated from a nearby zither. When it ceased, she would command, "Play 'Parting at Dawn' again…" and the notes would weave their melancholic magic once more. This ritual continued until, at some point, she commanded no more. Exhausted, she finally surrendered to sleep, and the zither fell silent too.
The young man, observing from the shadows, approached her still form. Her chest remained motionless—no sighs, no breaths. He sat beside her, brushing disheveled hair from her face. His touch revealed swollen eyelids and traces of past tears. Her hand still dipped into the water, her dress billowing in the breeze.
"I stayed because there is no one else to sooth your pain, let alone cure you... If only I had my pipa back...» he murmured, gently lifting her head and cradling it in his shoulder. With care, he removed his outer garment, covering her sleeping body beside his. But her white hair escaped from its confines, fluttering in the breeze. The young man caught it, pressing it against his palm, soothing her sleep.
The moon hung high, partially obscured by clouds that every fleeting moment enveloped the pier in darkness almost hiding the shadowed figures there. Nearby, the King watched, his anger palpable. A lower servant was the one with the shoulder her head leaned over.
"Why don't you approach her?" a voice asked him. The King's response—a deep sigh—betrayed his inner turmoil.
"All this time, you've watched her," the voice continued. "Yet, she remains unaware of your daily vigil."
"Will my presence ease her pain?" the King wondered aloud. "Can my joy of seeing her compare to the solace of his music?" Hopelessness and despair echoed in his voice.
"Forgive me, Your Majesty," the voice replied. "I cannot bear witness to Your suffering."
"And can you bear witness to hers?" the King challenged his companion. "Because, I can't! And that is the only reason why he's there with her now instead of me!"
*Thx for reading.