I wasn't going to lie; I was scared, confused and conflicted. What could I say? And would I be able to handle the awful and terrible truth that was going to spill out of his lips? I had resolved myself to go in and hear him out because his mental state affected me as much as it affected him. How this conversation was going to go and how it was going to change our relationship, I didn't know. All I knew was that whether I liked it or not, Meng Yao was a person who needed someone to talk to, shady criminal background be damned.

"A-Yao…I promised that I would help you with your problems so that you can pass on and reincarnate, didn't I?" I asked.

There I went again calling him A-Yao. I knew it was impolite to call him something so intimate without his permission, but I couldn't help it. It just slipped out of me so naturally that it became second nature.

"I won't deny that I'm scared of what might come out of your mouth and the secrets that you're going to reveal to me. But even so, I still want to help you. It's my duty as a Lan Sect disciple and a human being to hear what you're going to say. And if I can't even offer you an ear to listen or a shoulder to cry on, then how can I even be worthy enough to be a cultivator?"

I turned back around to see him standing in the doorway. It was indeed raining inside that landscape. Thunder rumbled loudly in the background as a bolt of lightning flashed across the sky in a single bright and winding arc. Meng Yao had a red paper parasol decorated with golden peonies in his hand to shield him from the rain. His eyes were now not only swollen and puffy, but they were also slightly bloodshot and framed by dark circles underneath them. It had been a few days since that incident and I had been bedridden in the real world, yet I could see how much this had affected him. Some things were better off left being buried instead of being uncovered.

"One day, that line of thinking is going to get you into trouble," he sighs wearily, "you're still too young and naïve to understand how the world works."

I stepped underneath his parasol and shivered as the cooled air from inside began to chill me to the bone. A thin paper hospital gown really did do nothing at keeping you warm. Especially something as skimpy and revealing as mine was. I blew into my cupped hands and began to rub them against each other in an effort to warm myself up. Although I was from a country that was known for its harsh winters, I still nonetheless was not very fond of being cold. In a move that made me jump a little, he suddenly pressed the parasol he was holding into my hand as he took off his stained and slightly tattered outer robe with one hand and draped it over my shoulders.

"What are you doing?" I asked in a confused voice, hugging his bloodied robe closer to my body.

"You looked cold," he said, voice still hoarse, sore, and flat. "I know it's only a dreamscape, but it's improper to let a woman suffer like this."

I stood there confused before slipping my arms in through the armholes. The robe was made out of a lightweight and expensive fabric that was trimmed with gold. Though the material was thin, it still was warm enough to keep the cold out of this sickly body of mine. As expected, the right side where the sleeve used to be smelt heavily of blood and was stiff to the touch. The edges were also jagged and frayed, as though it had been torn through carelessly with something incredibly sharp. Although I now had an exposed arm that was still cold, it was still better than nothing.

"Umm…thank you for the robe," I said hesitantly, still weary of him.

This added to my further confusion over who this man was standing beside me. Who was he really? Someone who would screw me over the moment I let my guard down? Or someone that made a lot of bad choices in life and genuinely regretted them? The man whose memories I had experienced through his eyes, how did he go from being a war hero to becoming a murderer who would one day get his neck snapped in half by a fierce corpse and a sword through his chest? It was questions like this that swirled around inside my head like a whirlpool and would eat away at me. If I didn't get an honest to god straight answer out of him, then I didn't know when I would.

I watched him with fascination as he materialized a pair of boots out of thin air and placed them on the ground beside me. What was this man doing? Was he trying to bribe me with gifts so that I would have a better opinion on him? I kept eying him with suspicion as I slipped them onto my feet. They came up to my knees and seemed to be closer to the rain boots back in my world. Though how he knew about what rain boots were, I didn't know.

He then took the parasol from my hands and beckoned me to follow him, still shielding me from the rain. The sound of wet grass and mud squelching under our feet followed the both of us as we made our way inside. The tension and the silence between us was so thick that you could have sliced through it with a knife. To my surprise, we weren't going to be in our usual meeting place in the gazebo. Instead, Meng Yao was leading me to a two story cottage that looked like something out of those old fashioned story books. It looked a perfect blend of western and eastern aesthetics. This place wasn't here before, where had it come from?

I watched as he pushed the front gates open and he led me to the door. The interior, while not having many items inside it, was cozy yet radiated elegance and wealth, as expected from someone who was from a wealthy family. There was a fire roaring inside the fireplace and a round table set up inside for two people. Oil lanterns were set up around us to give this place a soft orange-yellow glow that cast long shadows along the walls. I took my seat at the table still wearing Meng Yao's outer robes and waited for him. I watched Meng Yao shaking rainwater off of the parasol before placing it by the doorway and joining me at the table.

Now was the moment of truth, when he was going to spill the beans about what had happened to him before he died. I didn't know what to say or do around him. Here I was, a normal unarmed civilian turned disciple with barely enough training to go face to face with a murderer. If things took a turn for the worse, I could always high tail it out of here back to the real world. I watched him reach for the teapot on the table before I put my hands out to stop him.

"Let me do it this time." I said as I took the pot away from him, "You're always pouring tea for me. It's only right if I do it since this is my consciousness after all."

Even if I had offered to pour tea for him and tried to pretend that everything was fine, these traitorous hands of mine said otherwise. I would hear the hot liquid inside the pot sloshing around and the lid rattling loudly despite the fact I was clamping my hand down tightly on top to keep it from falling off. In fact, I was shaking so badly that I think I had more tea spilt onto the table itself than in the cups themselves. I gave him a sheepish smile before taking my cup and taking a sip. Now you may be wondering why I just didn't just run like the good and rational person that I was. Well, even if I did run, where would I go? Meng Yao was like having a roommate that tagged along with you everywhere you went. Except, this roommate of mine was a ghost AND a murderer. Whether I liked it or not, he was stuck with me until then.

"I know you must have a lot of questions for me about my past and the circumstances behind my death," Says Meng Yao, looking into his cup of tea. "You have every right to be scared and not to trust me right away. I suppose I should start at the beginning shouldn't I? Whether or not you choose to believe me or not is up to you."

And so, he begins his tale of a sad and lonely childhood filled with bullying, broken promises, and missed opportunities in a classist and cruel world. Of an abusive and skirt chasing father that never even wanted him in the first place. His tales filled me with mental images of him fighting in a war, becoming a hero, joining a brotherhood, and eventually becoming Chief Cultivator, whatever that was supposed to be. Then came the tales of a desperate and scared man who would have done ANYTHING to keep the status quo where it was. Of someone so starved of love and affection in life that he resorted to murder, black mail, lies, kidnapping and even experimenting on the living undead for the sake of being something more than just the son of a prostitute.

But none of that mattered at the end of the day. No matter what good things he might have done in life, it was always overshadowed by that one part of him that he could never change. He was still just an illegitimate bastard that would never earn any more than scorn and nasty rumours about him amongst society. Though he'd long thickened the skin of that face of his and gotten used to people bad mouthing him behind his back, there would still be comments that he just couldn't just let go of.

I sat there listening to him patiently telling me about his past with wide eyes and shock. I'm not going to lie when I say that I was both horrified and disgusted by his acts of ruthlessness and cruelty. But it was hard to stay unbiased, detached and impartial to him when he would look like he was going to start bursting into tears at some parts, especially when he mentioned his wife and son. I couldn't help but be reminded of how I eventually became an unwanted child by a narcissistic, mentally unstable and selfish mother that didn't want anything to do with a kid with a learning disability later in life. The only difference between him and I was that at least I had my grandma and the few friends I could surround myself with. Would I have eventually become like him one day if the circumstances were just a bit different? That very realization sent shivers down my spine.

Who was the real Meng Yao really? A ruthless and cruel criminal who would have thrown you under the bus to save his own skin? Or just a very flawed and lonely person who was dealt a bad hand in life made a lot of bad decisions? All I knew was at the end of the day, all of his hubris eventually led to his very gruesome and horrific end at the hands of the very person he once considered a brother, a lover, and a comrade in arms.

"I didn't want to tell you about my past, nor want you to see into my memories because of how you would react," He says as he takes a sip of his tea. "I wouldn't even hold it against you for being scared or disgusted with me."

He lets out a bitter and humourless laugh as he downs the entire cup in one go.

"In the end, where did all my scheming and manipulation get me? A lonely death and being trapped in a coffin with someone I once cared about for all of eternity? I wouldn't be surprised if people in the real world suddenly started labelling me as a pariah."

In the light of the fireplace, I could see tears once more glistening in his eyes. Although I now knew of his crimes, my heart still broke for him. The truth of the matter was that this man standing before me was someone who was both capable of great cruelty and was also someone who greatly regretted their past actions. No amount of sugar coating or sweet words would ever make this better. A person who despite committing such horrific crimes to stay in power, was also an incredibly lonely soul who just wanted to feel loved. I reached my hand out over the table and placed it over his own, the turmoil and conflict in my heart no doubt visible on my face. This was the truth about him; plain, simple, and unaltered.

"I'm sorry you had such a rough life before you passed," I say as I gently brush my fingers over his knuckles. "I couldn't even imagine going through half of the things you've been through. However, I can't forgive the fact that you've hurt so many people in your struggle to stay where you were. No matter what kinds of excuses you may have had for doing so, it still wasn't the right thing to do."

I gently squeezed his hand before placing my other hand over it. Although I sympathized with him and saw what I could have become in another world, it didn't take a rocket scientist to know the difference between right and wrong. No excuse was a good excuse, even if they were for understandable reasons.

"You…you could have just walked away from all of this. Why didn't you?"

Meng Yao (or rather Jin Guangyao as he was later known in life), could only give me another mirthless laugh and looked at me with a sad, defeated expression on his face, his hand under my own pair curling into a tight fist.

"What is there to walk away from?" he asks bitterly. "You oversimplify things when really, it's not as easy for me to simply 'walk away from them'. By the time that I could, it already was too late. I've already dug my own grave and stained my hands with the blood of thousands of people."

I take my hands off his own and pour him another cup of tea, which he quickly drains in one gulp despite how hot it was. The expression on his face made it clear how much he regretted his past actions. His lust for power and recognition cost him everything near and dear to him, leaving him a very lonely man with nothing in return.

"I was desperate, scared and stupid for doing the things I did. It was me against a world that judged you not for your merit and hard work, but by your background and connections. The relationships I've forged with people over the years? They're gone, too. There's no turning back for me now, no kind world to return to. I can't even stay… by his side…"

He trails off, voice cracking on the last syllable. He'd try to compose himself in front of me, but the pain and agony in his eyes and voice said otherwise.

"Who's side?" I ask him as gently as I can, though I already knew who he was talking about.

"No, I…I don't even have the right to say his name anymore…" he says quietly. "He offered me everything; his love, his generosity, and compassion. And what did I do? I squandered it all for power."

I hear him sniffling softly, the aching in my chest beginning to swell as I watched his expression change to one of pain, heartbreak, guilt, unspoken words and remorse. The tears that he had been trying to keep in check had now spilled from his eyes, running down his cheeks in single lines. My heart was far too soft to remain as unbiased and impartial as it was towards him, even if he did do bad things in life. No matter what or who he was, he was still another person with feelings. The next thing I knew, I found myself getting up from my seat, making a beeline towards him and throwing my arms around him. However, I feel his hand gently pushing me away from him a few moments later, a look of confusion on his tear streaked face.

"W-what are you doing?" he asks me, looking flustered and a light blush staining his cheeks red.

A blush also crept along my face too when I finally realized what I had done. My body just moved on its own and went to seek him all on its own. Was this considered sexual harassment where he came from?

"You…you looked like you needed a hug," I sputtered, red faced from embarrassment. "I-I ahh… I'm sorry, I overstepped my boundaries."

I pull my chair up beside him, too embarrassed to look him in the eye, but still wanting to talk. I take a shuddering breath and clear my throat before continuing.

"The point is that if you don't want to talk about that person, then I understand. But I still do want to help you, even with all the bad things you've done in the past. You can tell me all about that person when you're ready to do it."

He looked at me with stunned silence, his eyebrows raised so high, they nearly disappeared underneath his hat.

"Y-you do? After everything I've told you about my past?" he asks incredulously.

"En, I do," I tell him. "But I need your cooperation in order to do so. I can't do this all by myself, not when I have so little to go on. You're my partner in crime after all, so we're in this mess together whether you like it or not."

Jin Guangyao just gives a warm smile as he wipes the tears from his face with his thumb, the dimples on his face being highlighted by the glow of the fireplace and the oil lanterns.

"You're a strange woman, Alice," he chuckles softly. "To think that you'd still be willing to help out a murderer after all's been said and done."

I can't help but smile along with him as well. Even as scared and confused as I was about him, it was nice to see him having his own little moments of happiness, even if sometimes they didn't last very long.

"I made a promise to help you, didn't I?" I ask him. "To not fulfill my end of it would be doing you a great disservice. Whether you're Meng Yao or Jin Guangyao, A-Yao is still A-Yao after all."

He takes both my hands and squeezes them gently in his own. It's warm and soft despite them being covered in old cuts and calluses. That hand that once hurt so many people was also something that created something beautiful, and was capable of protecting people. It was two sides of the same coin.

"I'm sorry for yelling at you like that a few days ago," he says, looking away. "I wasn't really in a good place. I'm also sorry for making you violently sick too, you didn't deserve that."

"It's okay, A-Yao," I tell him. "I've already forgiven you for that. You don't need to apologize for being depressed too. We'll figure something out together, don't worry about it. Just give me a heads up for whenever you're going to start freaking out."

The sound of the rain buffeting the windows had long stopped by now, leaving only rays of sunshine peeking through the clouds. The sound of birdsong had returned as well. I didn't know what the future had in store for the both of us, but whatever it may have for us, we'll face them together.

Author's Notes: Yes, I'm actually using the term of spilling tea as a title for my chapters, because there's a lot of tea to be spilt. I think that's probably enough angst for a while until we actually get to knowing Xichen in seclusion...