Page 215 - creative spark 2020

213

We no longer spoke. I noticed that Luxian looked paler and
thinner. I spotted a small tint of red at the corner of his mouth. What
happened to him? Had he been coughing up blood? I was about
to ask him before I heard the leaves rustled. I froze and looked at
Luxian. With shaking hands, I knocked on the wooden bed edge.
Luxian did not turn. No. Luxian, what have you done? Before
I could utter another word, Luxian holds my fragile hands and
widen his smile.

“Soon, Yangbei. Soon, you will be able to walk and sit again.
Yangbei? Why are you crying? Are you alright?” I could not answer.
The room was silent for Luxian, but not for me. Not anymore.

I opened my eyes again. It was the morning of the late
autumn of an unknown year. This time, Luxian was in a wheelchair.
His face looked far too pale and thin. There were dark marks under
his sealed shut eyes. His cheekbones were visible. He looked as if
he was dying. He smiled at me weakly with his fainted lips, still
somewhat cheerful. The gentle afternoon light illuminated his back.

Luxian left for work with a servant pushing his wheelchair.
It made an awfully painful creaky sound. I got up, my feet touched
the cool floor for the first time in hundreds of years. The shivering
feelings animated my nostalgia. For once, I stood up and decided
to go for a walk. It was supposed to be a beautiful day with the red
leaves and clear sky, but why didn’t I enjoyed it? I started walking.

“I am worried about his majesty.” A woman’s voice came
across my ears. I stopped walking, it must have been the servants.
“Me too. What’s gotten into him?” Another voice came.