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That was reassuring, but Chen remained skeptical and would continue to be so until he met these witches in the flesh.
They walked through the woods, the grass appearing higher in places where large patches of sun could dart through during the day. Soft rustling noises reached his ears as smaller creatures scurried through the brush. A gentle breeze danced among the leaves, chilling the air and carrying with it the scent of damp earth and fresh green shoots. Through the breaks in the tree limbs, stars sparkled against a velvety midnight-blue sky.
“May I ask you a personal question?” Chen inquired.
“Of course.” That broad smile returned to Moon’s lips as he looked up at him. His hold on Chen’s arm tightened as if he were afraid the vampire would try to pull free.
“Your hair. Is it that color naturally? Or is it the result of a spell or a traumatic event earlier in your life?”
Moon chortled and bumped into him. His grip on Chen’s arm disappeared and Chen missed his warmth. Moon stepped in front of him and pulled at a couple of locks of moonlight-white hair. “This is completely natural. I was born with white-blond hair. Same as my mother’s. Though if I remember right, she had a few streaks of pale gold through hers.”
Without thinking, Chen reached up to touch some of Moon’s white hair but stopped himself. His brain kicked in to remind him to keep his hands to himself. Moon’s laugh turned softer, and he grabbed Chen’s hand, pushing his fingers into his hair.
Soft.
Soft like a rabbit’s fur.
And silkier than the finest fabric.
He couldn’t stop himself from rubbing a lock between his thumb and forefinger.
“Sean and I were talking about how you used to wear a hanfu. Was your hair also long? This was probably well before cameras. There wouldn’t be any photos of you with long hair, huh?”
Chen pulled his hand away at Moon’s probing questions. There was no missing the man’s hopeful tone.
With a frown, he placed his hands behind his back and continued walking. “Yes, there was a time when my hair was long. Cameras didn’t exist, though. It’s been a few centuries since I last wore it like that.”
“Huh.”
Chen glanced over his shoulder, raising an eyebrow at Moon’s dejected expression.
The witch perked up and grabbed his arm again to resume walking with him. “Don’t get me wrong. I think you’re hot with short hair. Very sexy. But I think I’ve seen too many of those historical dramas where they have long hair. They’ll wear it in like a topknot and have that sort of crown around it.” As he talked, Moon released him and lifted his hands above his head, gesturing to where the hairpiece would be.
“A xiaoguan,”1 Chen corrected. “I still have a few from my youth.” A noise escaped Moon that was like a squeak, and his eyes were wide. Chen frowned. “I’ve seen those dramas you speak of, and they are wildly inaccurate with their clothing and the behavior of the actors. My xiaoguan were very plain. I was only—” Chen stopped himself suddenly, realizing he was about to share personal information with the witch.
Moon grabbed his arm with both hands. “Please, don’t stop. You’re walking history. Ancient history. I’ll never meet anyone else who can tell me about what life was like more than a thousand years ago. Pleeeassseee…” Moon’s begging was accompanied by wide eyes and fluttering eyelashes.
Chen sighed loudly and resumed walking, pulling Moon along with him. “I…I was born the second son of a wealthy family, but we were not nobility. My mother was the only daughter of a silk merchant, and my father was a politician.”
The squeal happened again. This time Moon was almost vibrating at his side, his hands squeezing tighter on his biceps. “Did you have any other siblings?”
Chen shook his head. “One. My elder brother studied, intending to become a politician like my father. My parents initially hoped I would become a merchant like my maternal grandfather or join the army.”
“But you didn’t, did you?”
“Not exactly. I had an early aptitude for martial arts, and my father allowed me to apply to the Sword of the Heavenly Garden Sect.”
Chen stopped and stared at the trees without seeing them. He saw only his shifu standing tall and handsome in his dark robes as he accepted Chen’s three kowtows2 at the young age of seven. At the time, he thought his father had been generous and thoughtful in his choice of the Sword of the Heavenly Garden Sect, but many years later, he realized his father had selected that sect because of Shifu’s close relationship with the emperor. He had been trying to place both of his sons well politically.
“Father’s plan was for me to study for several years under Shifu. Afterward, I would leave the sect to join the army. My father had dreams of me becoming a general and fighting for the glory of the emperor.”
