HIS ACTING IS TOO PERFECT; he's overdoing it, Cui Buqu thought.
If time could reverse, and he could return to the moments before they entered Mount Tiannan, he'd have told Feng Xiao that going too far was just as bad as stopping short. Moderation was the key. Maybe Yuxiu and Yuan Sansi couldn't tell, but he oughtn't underestimate Fan Yun.
But this was a fantasy. Even he'd never expected Feng Xiao would do such a thing—that he'd sell him out to the Thirteen Floors without a word to gain their trust. Yet this was indeed Feng Xiao's style: willful and reckless, walking the treacherous path, fighting without leaving an out for himself. If Cui Buqu hadn't been the poor sucker who'd been set up, he would have praised Feng Xiao's plan.
But right now, he was in a terrible predicament.
If Feng Xiao showed him mercy, he'd be unable to win the trust of Yuxiu and the others. If Feng Xiao showed none, all he'd sacrifice was a man who was neither an enemy nor a friend. So why wouldn't he be ruthless?
Either do it right, or don't do it at all.
Cui Buqu watched as Feng Xiao approached a step at a time. He dropped to one knee, coming eye to eye with Cui Buqu. Feng Xiao's handsome face remained devoid of expression. A faint light flickered in the depths of his eyes, cold and remote. There was no reflection of Cui Buqu within them.
He was on the knife's edge between life and death, but Cui Buqu's mind was wandering. If it were him, he thought, what would he do? One couldn't capture a tiger cub without venturing into the tiger's den. If Cui Buqu had been in the same position, perhaps he'd have made the very same choice as Feng Xiao.
Cui Buqu silently chuckled to himself. The fact that he was thinking about this at all was proof his heart was in turmoil. Cui Buqu had always been cold and decisive, a man who didn't hesitate to weave even himself in his own plots—never before had he wondered anything of the sort.
"Have you ever thought how you will die?" he heard Feng Xiao ask.
Cui Buqu tilted his head a little as he gave it serious thought. "I used to think I'd die in the Cui manor, but I didn't. After I left, there were a few treacherous incidents where I thought I was done for, but I didn't die then either. Later, in the Khaganate, I thought I'd die in that yurt with Yuxiu. But in the end, you came in time."
Feng Xiao's smile didn't reach his eyes. "Then you've been quite fortunate."
Cui Buqu nodded. "I think so too—"
Feng Xiao's hand flashed forward.
Coldness slid into Cui Buqu's chest, and sharp agony exploded through him. He looked down at the dagger, buried to the hilt in his flesh. Blood spilled from the wound, soaking his robes in crimson.
Pain. Excruciating pain.
He furrowed his brow, trying to recall the last time he'd felt pain like this.
There was the year he'd left the Cui family. At that time, both his lungs and heart had troubled him greatly, and he had been caught in a heavy downpour on the road. He'd curled up beneath the eaves, but the wind whipped the rain in, battering his face and drenching his clothes. He'd burned with fever, his head hazy and muddled. He thought he'd die that night.
Then there was the time, not long ago at all, when he'd used incense of helplessness against Yuxiu in the Western Khaganate, poisoning himself along with his enemy and aggravating his existing illness. Yuxiu had wrapped his fingers around Cui Buqu's neck; his vision had sparked with stars and every breath had been excruciating.
But it hadn't been as painful as it was now. Could the dagger be poisoned?
He instinctively tried to draw breath, but it only aggravated his wound. His entire body trembled with pain, and his face was paler than the gauzy, snow-white robes of those two beautiful maids. Bloody foam bubbled at the corner of his mouth as he panted raggedly. But he didn't moan.
Feng Xiao had thought he'd be treated to sneering mockery and vicious curses from Cui Buqu. But there was nothing.
He saw Cui Buqu's thin lips, stained with blood, tremble as they moved in a near-soundless sentence: You saved my life last time. I've repaid you now.
A slight, involuntary tremor went through Feng Xiao's hand. He was still holding the dagger's hilt; that quiver instantly worsened the pain Cui Buqu was in. Blood, thick and red, slid from the corner of his mouth to drip from the tip of his chin. It fell drop by drop onto his lapels, dyeing the fabric with bright splashes of red.
The whole thing had happened in a flash; for a moment, everyone stood dumbfounded. Shock and disbelief were scrawled over Yuan Sansi's face. Even Yuxiu thought Feng Xiao had gone mad. Cui Buqu had refused to join, but now wasn't the time to kill him. Yuxiu had only wanted to torture him a bit to vent his anger, but Feng Xiao had taken it a step further, going straight for the kill.
"Stop!" Fan Yun cried, reaching out to shove Feng Xiao away. Feng Xiao didn't dodge; he allowed Fan Yun to push him back a few steps.
Fan Yun stepped forward to examine Cui Buqu's wound. In seconds, he'd sealed several major acupoints and called for someone to bring gauze and medicine. Feng Xiao had shown no mercy. All of them could see that the blade was fully buried inside Cui Buqu's body. Even Yuxiu couldn't claim Feng Xiao was putting on an act.
"You're too rash, Feng-gongzi!" Fan Yun snapped. "Even if he refuses to join us now, he's still of more use to us alive."
Very carefully, he drew the dagger from Cui Buqu's chest. A fresh spurt of blood followed the tip as it was extracted. Cui Buqu slumped against one of the cave's rocks, limp and unmoving. He was barely conscious.
"Like I said," Feng Xiao replied coldly, "it's either me or him. We have the Jiejian Bureau already. I don't see how keeping the Zuoyue Bureau chief alive is useful. Unless it's so he can rat me out to the court?"
Fan Yun was furious. "If he dies, a great number of our plans will be ruined!"
Feng Xiao smiled thinly. "To think Fan-xiansheng would still value him so much. As expected of the disciple who was your pride and joy. In the end, you can't put aside your fondness for him. But you were the one who lured him here—to get so upset over it now, don't you think it's hypocritical?"
"No one in the Zuoyue Bureau knows he's here," Fan Yun said severely. "We could have used him as bait for his subordinates, then captured them all in one fell swoop. Our leader admires Cui Buqu and sees him as a kindred spirit. Not long ago, he sent a message informing us that he wishes to meet him in person. If he dies on our watch, how will I explain?"
Feng Xiao dusted off his clothes and said nonchalantly, "Those are Fan-xiansheng's problems, not mine."
He turned to leave without sparing a glance for anyone else.
Yuan Sansi watched him melt into the darkness. "That man has a heart of stone, to deal a fatal blow to his former comrade without batting an eye," he whispered. "If we welcome him, I fear we'll be cultivating a threat to ourselves."
Yuxiu snorted a laugh. "If anything, he did me a service. If Fan-xiansheng hadn't forbidden it, I'd have killed Cui Buqu before he got to him!"
Fan Yun checked Cui Buqu's pulse. After a moment, he sighed. "I'll take him back first. His wound is severe; I doubt he'll wake anytime soon. There's no way he can meet our leader like this. I'll have to send him word and wait for his decision. If there's anything else, we can discuss it later."
So saying, he scooped Cui Buqu up in his arms and hurried away.
Feng Xiao's stab had been ruthless. Cui Buqu had lost too much blood—his pulse was terribly faint. His life hung by a thread; to save him, Fan Yun poured all his strength into protecting Cui Buqu's already fragile heart, preserving his life and channeling yang energy into him. For four hours he pulled Cui Buqu back from the edge of death, a feat more exhausting than dueling a master martial artist, before some heat finally returned to Cui Buqu's chest. For the moment, he was out of danger.
Fan Yun's face was white with fatigue, and his legs were weak and wobbly. He entrusted Cui Buqu's care to his maid and returned to his room to meditate and recover his strength.
The woman left to serve Cui Buqu was one of the maids who'd brought the wine saucers earlier. She soaked a cloth and wrung out the water, using it to dab away the blood on Cui Buqu's face.
Cui Buqu's injuries were severe, and Fan Yun had given strict orders that he wasn't to be moved or turned. The maid carefully peeled away his outer robes, leaving him clothed in a single inner garment. He was a gruesome sight, over half his body crusted with dried blood. The maid moved him as gently as possible, afraid to startle him and cause him more pain. But Cui Buqu was insensible to everything. From beginning to end, his eyes remained shut, as silent as a corpse.
***
The cave they were in had once contained treasures from a bygone dynasty. After the trove's discovery, Yuan Sansi had transformed it into a base for the Thirteen Floors of Yunhai, one of several such strongholds in the north. It was spacious yet concealed, guarded by traps and hidden passages, and all the chambers were conveniently interlinked. Its interior comforts were in no way inferior to the manor of any noble clan—in fact, its chambers might have been even more lavishly appointed.
Feng Xiao, however, was a man who spent his days drowning in luxury and was moreover fussy to the extreme. He showed no reaction even when presented with the most opulent of furnishings, using them as casually as one might common wares.
The chamber where he had stabbed Cui Buqu reeked of blood; he left it without a backward glance and returned to his room. A familiar sensual fragrance hit him as he entered, overpowering the metallic stench that lingered in his nose. A half-naked beauty reclined upon his bed, her sweet scent adding a touch of charm to the erotic picture before him.
A thin blanket was artfully draped over the beauty's chest to reveal the rounded top of her ample breasts, and a pair of long legs peeked from beneath the covers, smooth and pale as creamy jade. Her eyes fluttered open, shimmering like starlight beneath the glow of night pearls; when she smiled at Feng Xiao, even the stars adorning the night sky outside seemed to lose their luster.
"You're back," she said languidly. Only two words, but they were drippingly tender, seeping into the listener's bones. Feng Xiao felt as if a delicate claw was tickling his ear. Anyone who could remain unaffected by such a tableau wasn't fit to be called a man.
"Why are you in my bed?" Feng Xiao didn't move from the doorway. His eyes were tranquil as he looked her up and down as if she were a statue of stone.
Feng Xiaolian nearly laughed in rage. "I'm beginning to suspect that none of the men within the Thirteen Floors have anything between their legs! You're the fourth one who's looked at this body of mine without any reaction!"
Feng Xiao raised one brow. "Who are the other three? Please introduce me to these upstanding gentlemen."
Feng Xiaolian sniffed coquettishly and slid to the edge of the bed, wrapping the blanket around her as a makeshift robe. She sat up and began to count off on her fingers. "The pavilion leader, Fan-xiansheng, Yuxiu, and now you. Fan-xiansheng has incredible willpower, so he hardly counts. Yuxiu's heart belongs to another; in his eyes I'm scarcely better than a corpse. Anyway, I'd rather not provoke him. But you—why are you so unaffected? It makes no sense."
She rose from the bed, the dark blanket forming a train behind her as she padded over to Feng Xiao and circled around him. Without warning, she reached out to embrace him from behind, only to find her arms full of empty air. She trod on the blanket and tripped, falling to the floor.
"Feng—Xiao!" She sounded as if she might pass away from rage.
"What about Yuan Sansi? Is he also immune to your charms?" Feng Xiao smiled and bent down, scooping her up and tossing her carelessly onto the bed.
Feng Xiaolian slanted him a look, her demeanor a seamless blend of sensuality and innocence. "Do you think I accept just anyone? I have no interest in someone like Yuan Sansi!"
"What a rare creature you are!" Feng Xiao climbed atop her, unhurried, and lowered his mouth to her ear. "You've met the pavilion leader before?"
Feng Xiaolian thought herself the most peerless of beauties, a woman who'd seen it all. But when she felt the heat of Feng Xiao's breath on her neck, she found her composure slipping. "Of course I have. Ah, mm, be gentle…" Her voice rose in pitch, turning into a drawn-out gasp.
"Whore." A man's voice from beyond the door. In the next moment, they heard the speaker turn on his heel and leave.
On the bed, Feng Xiaolian blinked. "Why did you grab my waist?"
"Why did you play along?" countered Feng Xiao.
Feng Xiaolian smiled. "Isn't it an honor to enjoy a romantic evening with the deputy leader? I'd bet good money our eavesdropper just now was Yuan Sansi."
"Is he so jealous of me?"
Feng Xiaolian giggled. "No, he doesn't trust you."
"You knew it was him from his footsteps. You're quite skilled. You shouldn't have ranked below Duan Qihu and Yuheng."
Feng Xiaolian stretched languidly. "I did obtain the title of the thirteenth director, Shisan-xiansheng, but it was only thanks to my reputation and my knowledge of some secret pair cultivation techniques. How could grandmasters and experts like you hold me as your equal? Feng-lang, you're flirting with me now, but your heart isn't in it. Could it be…"
The hand behind Feng Xiao's back slowly clenched into a fist.
"…Could it be that you're like Yuxiu? You already have a beloved?" she finished.
Feng Xiao neither confirmed nor denied it. "What do you think?"
Feng Xiaolian twined her arms around his neck. "I think most people are too far beneath you to catch your eye. The only person you love is yourself."
Feng Xiao smiled. "You know, I'm starting to like you. What kind of man is the pavilion leader?"
"Why are you so interested in the pavilion leader?" Feng Xiaolian asked curiously.
"He's built such a formidable organization and gathered so many powerful masters and factions beneath him. Who wouldn't be curious? I'm the newly appointed deputy leader, yet I've never laid eyes on the man. Surely that's rather odd?"
"Worry not," Feng Xiaolian said with a smile. "It's the Qixi Festival tomorrow, the seventh day of the seventh month. I heard the leader will be here as well. Our Thirteen Floors will be a full house then; all of us will be present."
Something flickered in Feng Xiao's eyes. "Will Lin Yong and Ning Shewo also be here?"
"Of course," said Feng Xiaolian. "You don't think they really went to Donghai Commandery? This is the real meeting location."
"But of the Thirteen Floors, I still don't know the identities of the ninth and tenth directors—Jiu-xiansheng and Shi-xiansheng. Who are they?"
Feng Xiaolian tittered. "If you act so impatient, I'll start getting suspicious. Perhaps you only pretended to join so you could probe for information."
Feng Xiao smiled back. "If I say I'm here for you, would you believe me?"
Feng Xiaolian blinked as Feng Xiao lowered his head as if to kiss her. She had just parted her lips to speak when her expression shifted; she took to the air like a swallow, sweeping out from beneath Feng Xiao. The dark blanket covering her was torn to shreds in the air, yet she ignored it and sprang toward the exit.
"Help—!"
But Feng Xiao was faster. Before she could put any force behind her cry, a bloody gash rent her throat.
Feng Xiaolian opened her lovely eyes wide and stared at Feng Xiao. Never had she imagined she'd meet such a comical, unceremonious end.
"How clever of you. I only wanted to knock you out, but you saw through me," Feng Xiao said regretfully. When he drew back his hand, there was a bloodstained zither string in it.
Had Cui Yong known Feng Xiao would pluck out the strings of his beloved Yuyin to use as a murder weapon, Cui Buqu wouldn't have needed to do anything at all. He'd have died right there, apoplectic with rage.
"This is going to be rather troublesome," Feng Xiao murmured to himself, still holding one of the beauty's supple arms.
***
Cui Buqu wandered within the darkness, his body sinking endlessly down.
He felt someone take hold of his hand, slowly pulling him out of the abyss, inch by inch. His savior had immense strength; Cui Buqu was unable to resist him. He was dragged up to solid ground, but his suffering continued. An intense agony wracked his body, and memories poured in like the rising tide.
He wanted to cough, but the pain prevented him. His mind was disoriented and confused—for a moment, he was certain he was still nine years old, thrust back into his darkest hour with no end in sight.
He couldn't die. He absolutely couldn't die.
He had to live.
He must live.
His lips were pried open, and a coolness trickled in. The searing pain in his throat was alleviated, but the agony in his chest burned only more fiercely. Someone seemed to be whispering in his ear. They gripped his feeble fingers, their touch light as a feather, as tender as if he was a treasure they were afraid to break.
For as long as he could remember, Cui Buqu had experienced all sorts of ups and downs as he traveled the treacherous road that was his life. He was fated to lose those dear to him; he was a cold and callous man. It was impossible that he could receive such gentleness.
So it's a dream after all.
He breathed a silent sigh before letting the darkness claim him once more.