The Faith and Salt

Returning to the hotel that afternoon, David buried his face deep into the mattress, overwhelmed by a sense of shame.

"No, you misunderstand." Wei Yuan's earlier words echoed constantly in his head. "I am afraid his anger had absolutely nothing to do with you."

"Why?"

“Why?”He repeated in surprise.

"Knowing him as I do, he has zero interest in you." The Chinese official had not bothered to sugarcoat the truth. "You are overthinking this."

That blunt reality now brought David a sickening amount of pain.

Yet, no matter how hard he tried to block it out, Xiao Yan's image kept flashing through his mind on an endless loop.

The texture of his skin, the hard lines of his muscles, his heavy brows, those piercing eyes, the shape of his lips...

A slightly morbid obsession surged in his chest.

Then, without warning, a different thought cut through it cold.

Stolen story; please report.

Bolting upright from the bed, he dug a small, scratched shaving mirror out of his travel trunk and studied his reflection closely.

Good God, he thought, staring at the disheveled mess staring back at him.

I spent the entire day with him looking exactly like this. I am an absolute fool.

Rummaging frantically through his travel bag, David searched for his razor, but the damn thing was nowhere to be found.

"Archie! You bastard," he cursed out loud.

Tearing open his door, he stormed downstairs.

Sure enough, he found Archie sitting at a corner table in the tavern room, surrounded by bottles.

"Where is my razor?" David demanded.

"Ah, me good Parson, ye finally came," Archie slurred slightly, lifting a cup. "These Chinese are weird, but I bet ye will love this. Come, drink."

"Where. Is. My. Razor?"

"Haven't seen it." Archie dismissed the question with a careless wave of his hand. "Come on, ye love the Chinese."

"What?"

"Ye love Chinese wine, Aye? Stop pretending."

"Old bastard." Realizing it was completely hopeless to get a straight answer out of a drunk, David turned around.

He went back to his room and settled for using a tiny pair of sewing scissors to trim his beard bit by bit.

Xiao Yan's image in his mind was no longer as sharp, nor as dangerously tempting as it had been just minutes ago.

Staring into the mirror at his slightly less ragged reflection, a heavy wave of frustration washed over him.

He deeply regretted going downstairs to confront Archie, letting that old drunk completely ruin his thoughts.

Dropping back onto the mattress, he stared up at the ceiling in deep frustration.

They were scheduled to leave tomorrow, yet here he was, completely losing his mind over a man.

What is wrong with me?

As the quiet of the room settled around him, he could not help but wonder what Xiao Yan was thinking about at this exact moment.