Concluding the Young Master’s Past
Zixu had to see his mother.
For five years, since he was seven, he had lived in her world, believing her every word. Now, after arriving at the truth, he still had to see her. He still wanted to know.
The day began like every other day. The two of them sat at the table, reading the books she always looked through.
Zixu stared at the scrawled notes of his mother. What seemed like unexplained, illogical desperation back then now all made sense, if he accepted that she was insane. Except, he just couldn't. A part of him still wanted to believe her, despite every other fact pointing him towards the truth.
She had been living in her own world of lies, and at some point, he had become just as delusional. She was afraid of the others who always sought after taking her life. He was afraid of losing the possibility of every faded memory of the mother he knew.
"Mother," he started, his voice barely a whisper, "I visited Father's courtyard yesterday."