Ming Cheng gazed out from the darkness of the blanket folds, his eyes incredulous at the phrase that had been uttered by the ghost in front of him.
Her voice was course and raspy, but somehow a little musical, the high pitch and delicateness of her tone sounding reassuring.
"Who- who are you?" he asked her, keeping his gaze on the delicate features of her face, her high cheek bones, her thin nose, slightly full lips, and her soft pallor, only her gaping eye sockets and the blue tinge that surrounded her body providing Ming Cheng any real anxiety.
He had seen these types of women flee towards brothels to survive their new lives, often cast out of wealthy homes to avoid scandals and for not being born the men that they ought to have been. They looked as if they would snap and break under the lightest amount of force, but had bites and blows often meaner and men, often underestimated and capable enough to give at least a good hit to the weak spots of the human body, especially the weakest one.
Brothels were the safer places to be still, with food and a bed in exchange for the particular service.
But this lady didn't look like she was from a brothel.
Xiao Ying, if he could've heard Ming Cheng, would've agreed.
His hands shook as he heard the ghost's voice repeat back to him the words that he had typed out. His breaths became shorter and shorter, as he sort to compose himself.
He jumped out of his chair and began pacing the room as he planned out what he was supposed to do.
He didn't remember every single line of dialogue in the shitty novel that he had written, and he barely remembered what had gone on in a few scenes, but here he was, tasked with recreating the dialogue again to push the plot of his work along.
It occurred to him just then, belatedly, that little Ming Cheng was waiting for him to answer the question.
He breathed deeply, trying to cope with the new stress and mentally ran through what the scene was supposed to be for.
Right, it was supposed to introduce Ming Cheng to the ghost, establish that she was a positive force in his life, suggest bad blood between her and the Imperial Family, and just make Ming Cheng feel safe.
Alright, Xiao Ying could do this.
He scooted back into the chair and readied his hands on top of the keyboard, ready to type.
But what was he supposed to write out?
It was too early to give the game away that the ghost was Ming Cheng's mother. He was supposed to be considerate so...
"I am your protector in this place," the ghost's voice echoed out.
Ming Cheng's eyes widened and darted towards the door, suddenly worried that an enemy would come bursting through at any moment.
He breathed out steadily, fully knowing that panicking now would do him no good and the fact that nobody had any particular reason to harm him either at the moment.
There was no enemy coming for him, yet.
"What's your name?" he asked her, his eyes narrowing in suspicion as he hid a little more of his face under the blanket, peering upwards at her.
The ghost remained silent for an uncomfortable amount of time again, leaving Ming Cheng to wonder how such a solid looking ghost was so poor with its speech.
Solid looking ghosts had to have more energy than invisible looking ghosts, right?
So maybe the ghost, even when it was a person, was poor with its speech, the trait following her into death.
Ming Cheng wasn't sure but waited apprehensively nonetheless for an answer.
"Liu Yang," the ghost replied after a while, her voice in the same tone as before, unchanging.
The lack of tone, urgency, emotion or really any emotional indication.
Ming Cheng gazed upwards at the ghost, unsure what he was supposed to think.
"My name is Ming Cheng."
It was at least common courtesy to give out your name when another person does, Xiao Ying thought to himself, grimacing at what Ming Cheng had done.
At what he had done himself too!
This was not how the original conversation went!
He was sure of it.
He was messing up his own novel even more.
No names were supposed to be traded here.
The protagonist was supposed to find out much later at the end of the volume, and have the name corroborated with the book of genealogy much later, revealing the ghost to be Ming Cheng's mother even further on.
It was too unlikely that Ming Cheng would encounter that book, but with the small change, Ming Cheng would probably ask about it as soon as he got comfortable.
He was the protagonist and Xiao Ying had modelled him off all the other self insert ones that he had looked up to because they were so cool and smart and heroic and handsome, his idiot younger self missing the point that these people were not paragons but characterless blank slates meant for him to project, not imagine a fucking flawless individual to worship.
Ming Cheng would obviously ask around, trying to find information to exorcise the ghost to let it move onto the next life, but what had caused this shift.
Ming Cheng was supposed to be initially terrified, too scared to move other than shivering and flinching in terror.
It was all about the ghost giving her son comfort, and Xiao Ying had certainly done that considering the child was now looking at him as if the ghost was a lacklustre performer in a haunted house.
He'd seen that face too many times from smartass unimpressed pre-teens who thought that they were so mature and grown up for not being caught out by the obvious man wearing a black T-shirt and trousers with his employee badge pinned on waving around a skeleton.
Those little shits didn't know about the local council's health and safety regulations and flaunted it, insulting Xiao Ying that he was a terrible employee but still giving their money away to such a cheap, shitty place.
"I beseech you that nobody is told about my appearance, in exchange, I will teach you about this palace," the ghost said out loud in response to Xiao Ying's typing, speaking as soon as he hit enter.
"OK," Ming Cheng replied.
Xiao Ying's eyebrows twitched.