Outside the Court Hall, Eunuch Zhu hugged a bamboo tree and retched.
He held onto the slender trunk for dear life, retching his soul out as if trying to cough up his ancestry. His robes were half-askew, face green, lips pale, and one foot slightly lifted like he was halfway to ascend.
Beside him, Rumeng massaged his own throat with both hands, his face contorted in a mix of guilt and exaggerated worry.
"Okay, okay! You agreed to the plan!" he protested, voice rising like he was defending himself in court. "And I did warn you. Any more delay, and you'd suffer worse!"
Eunuch Zhu snapped his head, his red eyes blazing with fury. "Suffer? You lunatic, this isn't suffering! This is murder! You're giving a sixty-year-old a heart attack!!"
Rumeng blinked.
Then, solemnly: "Well. I don't kill pigs."
Zhu dry-heaved again, almost collapsing onto the bamboo.
"Why you damn little–! Wait till I finish vomiting! I swear I'll shove your radish down your–RETCH!"
Their bickering was loud enough to startle nearby bats into flight. Neither noticed the slender white figure storming out of the Court Hall, robes whipping like torn wings.
They only realized something was wrong when Rumeng suddenly found a hand around his neck.
"Aack!! Lord Xuanji–!"
Xiangge's grip was tight and shivering. Rumeng gasped, slapping at his wrist in panic.
"Cough! Your Highness! My windpipe! Why is it always the neck?! Can't someone grab a leg for once? Or cough... maybe a shoulder?!"
Zhu, still bent over and swaying, glared sideways at him. "Should've left it at the palace gate if you didn't want it touched."
Rumeng's face twisted, eyes watering. "You're evil!"
"Fourth Prince!" Eunuch Zhu said with a pained bow, then immediately turned and vomited again.
Rumeng blinked. "Wait... Prince. You're crying!"
Eunuch Zhu also turned around, startled. The Fourth Prince rarely even smiled; to see him crying was like watching snow catch fire.
Xiangge's eyes were red and burning, as if a raging fire was suppressed beneath their surface, dangerously close to madness. "Rumeng," he choked. "Where are the herbs I asked for? It's been three weeks! Three whole weeks!"
Rumeng's expression shifted. Gently, he pulled Xiangge aside. "Lord Xuanji, don't worry. Junshang won't die so easily.
Xiangge's breath hitched. "What–?"
"I already know," Rumeng sighed. "I was hiding behind a tree. I saw it all."
"Then... you know I... stabbed him?"
"I know you." Rumeng's voice softened. "You thought he'd dodge, right? I saw it in the way you moved. Hesitant, panicked. But your tricks won't work on Junshang. He raised you. No one knows you better than he does."
"I hate him... But still... he shouldn't die.
"He won't. Jinghuo is fatal to mortals, but Junshang's cultivation is the highest in Xuan Huang. He'll survive."
"But he'll lose his cultivation..." Xiangge said hoarsely. "He didn't even dodge. He just stood there and let me stab him like that!"
"Then why stab him?" Rumeng asked quietly. "If you go that far, you have to accept the consequences."
Xiangge kicked a nearby stone, fists clenched. "It was my fault... I shouldn't have made Jinghuo."
"Don't say that. Just think about the tens and thousands of lives that you saved with it."
"But still... I gave their life and took the life of the most important person from them, didn't I?"
Rumeng looked at him with a bittersweet smile. "It hurts, doesn't it? That guilt. But isn't this what you wanted? He's hurt. So why are you crying?"
Xiangge choked. Tears kept spilling.
Rumeng sighed and rested a hand on his shoulder. "You care about him, Ah'Xiang. You just don't want to admit it."
Xiangge froze. His heart skipped. "Nonsense," he said hoarsely. His wet lashes trembled. "He destroyed me. Don't ever say that again!"
Rumeng didn't flinch. "Love and hate... neither can be controlled. Deny it all you want, but you still have to face it."
Xiangge broke free with a pale face. He turned to leave.
"Wait!" Rumeng called. "If you're worried about him, trust me. He's not dying. Not yet."
Xiangge hesitated.
"Junshang carries a five-element core. The poison won't take hold immediately. The rest... is up to you." Rumeng squeezed his shoulder slightly.
Xiangge turned, dazed. The weight of those words pressed down.
"I already delivered the herbs and medicines. They're in your residence. You have seven days before the poison starts devouring him from within."
Xiangge stood frozen.
Then he laughed bitterly.
"What am I supposed to do?" he whispered. "Seven days? I've been trying to make an antidote for a year! What can I possibly do in seven days?"
Rumeng smiled, genuinely. "You'll find a way. Even if the antidote's not ready, you can still slow the poison. You just need time. And I trust you."
Xiangge looked stunned.
"...Yes," he whispered, like holding on to the last thread of light in a world falling apart. "Yes... I can..."
And with that, he disappeared into the night.
Rumeng's smile faded slowly.
"You stabbed him," he murmured. "You're drowning in guilt... so why can't you just..."
He sighed deeply. When he turned, he found Eunuch Zhu already gone.
***
It was deep into the fourth watch when Mingxuan stepped out of the court hall. The wind was frostier than usual. Mist melted in to his dragon robe of silk, soaking through the layers.
Yunshan Jade Palace sat high atop a tall peak, veiled day and night in drifting fog. Tonight, the mountain ranges beyond loomed ghostlike beneath the dark sky.
The wound in his chest ached.
Half an hour ago, Eunuch Zhu saw him cough up blood. Zhu knelt, wept, begged, asking him to take medicines. But he turned a deaf ear.
The blood in his mouth had already turned black. But it didn't matter.
It wasn't the wound that hurt.
Nor the poison.
It was something deeper. Something he refused to say out aloud.
He walked slowly toward Feilong Palace, his official residence.
Though there were no visible guards along the path, Mingxuan knew he was watched. Shadow guards lingered always, watching from corners no one else could see.
The entrance stood quiet. Two guards bowed low. "Junshang!"
"Seal the gates." He entered.
Inside, a few maids and eunuchs waited to serve him. He waved them away before they could even bow. "Zhen will manage alone."
Without waiting for acknowledgment, he turned and entered his chambers. With a flick of his soaked sleeve, the sliding doors slid shut behind him.
Even the sound of Zhu's weeping faded into silence.
The room was dim, shadows swallowing the corners. The Emperor disliked bright light at night. It seemed Eunuch Zhu had already prepared everything in advance.
Mingxuan exhaled quietly, stepped toward the bed, and began to undress.
He loosened the black and golden outer robe and let it fall aside. The golden inner robe beneath was still damp with mist. One by one, he peeled away the layers, until only the white inner garments remained.
The cloth stuck tightly to his chest. It had been hours since the stab. Blood and flesh had dried into the silk. He tore it away without flinching.
The wound reopened.
Fresh, black-tinged blood slid down the ridges of his bare chest and abdomen, staining the folds of his white trousers.
He sat at the edge of the bed.
"Zhen needs rest," he said quietly. "So you should leave."
For a long time, there was no movement in the room.
Then, from the shadows, a figure stepped forth to the soft lamplight.
Half his face was veiled in shadows, but no darkness could hide his beauty or the sorrow etched across it. His lips trembled faintly. His red eyes locked onto the Emperor.
They stared at each other in silence. One standing, the other seated. Neither looking away.
Mingxuan's gaze was sharp, like unsheathed daggers, dazzling and cold.
After a while, Xiangge's gaze dropped. He couldn't stand those eyes anymore. He looked away, pursing his lips.
Mingxuan didn't move. "Zhen thought you would never step into this chamber again," he said quite meaningfully. "Zhen truly misjudged."
***
Glossary
• Fourth watch: 3-5 AM.
• Feilong Palace (飞龙宫): Soaring Dragon Palace, the official residence of Mingxuan.