Zhang Boning and Apollo’s Song of Farewell

“Boning, don't forget to come back.” The words had been written in blood. Over the years, they had faded to a dark brown, yet they still burned his eyes with pain. Boning, he murmured to himself, like a piece of candy that had yet to melt. The sweetness was long gone, leaving only sharp edges to cut his tongue. He knew the handwriting wasn't his, but whenever the moon was eclipsed, the bloody characters grew faintly damp, as if they had just been written. Today was the night of a lunar eclipse.