Shit, shit, shit. A VAMPIRE, shit. A vampire… Did I turn him? Shit. What do I do? No… I need to find him and figure it out from there. Xue Yanluo cursed as his body tensed. Where did he go…? Near the Three Rivers restaurant. I need to find the guards in that area.
Xue Yanluo was about to head out immediately to look for the soldier when he remembered to stop by the shed first and grab another parasol to use meanwhile. Since he planned to buy himself a new one on his way through the city.
In the city, Xue Yanluo walked through the streets feeling partially awkward. For this outing he had left his close bodyguards behind and carried only a few guardian soldiers hidden among the streets. Even so, he drew plenty of stares.
He walked with a crimson parasol patterned with gold and black across its surface, which set off the slightly pallid complexion he had gained after his transformation, making him look like a man in poor health.
He was well enough used to the feeling of eyes following him and paid them little mind, making his way toward a quieter part of the city: the soldiers' post.
This was where most of the soldiers responsible for the city's patrol and security gathered. At the entrance, a man in gleaming armor bearing a pattern of five blue stars stood waiting, his back straight as a spear, his gaze burning through everyone in front of him.
His eyes shifted to one side, catching the figure of Xue Yanluo, and he approached, greeting him with deep respect. "Welcome, Fourth Prince. I hope your walk to this humble place has been pleasant."
Xue Yanluo looked the man over, then nodded. "It has. Let's go inside—I don't want to waste my time."
The man nodded and led Xue Yanluo in. They passed through large training grounds used by the soldiers assigned solely to city patrol—men of some talent but little future.
A few steps more and they reached a tall four-story tower, climbing two floors in total. This was the office of the district chief, second only to the city commander in his control over the patrol and protection soldiers of the city.
Xue Yanluo moved through the office, taking in the various works of art and paintings placed around the room, a faint smile on his face. "You seem to have expensive taste." With that he turned and looked at the brigade chief standing before him, Tan Heiyue, and his smile deepened.
"Thank you, Fourth Prince. It is nothing more than a small indulgence, a fondness of mine for the arts—nothing worth mentioning." Tan Heiyue laughed heartily. Then he gestured toward some chairs and a nearby table. "Please, sit, and let us have some tea."
He sat while Tan Heiyue called one of his assistants and went to have the tea prepared. Meanwhile, they talked and made light conversation on a handful of topics—nothing too weighty, nothing too trivial; just enough to keep things from feeling difficult or like a waste of time.
The door slid open, and two servants carrying the tea entered along with the assistant. The servants placed the tea gracefully on the table and were about to pour it into the cups when Tan Heiyue raised his hand to stop them. "You may go." Before leaving, the servants stole a couple of sidelong glances at the brigade chief's guest and quickly left.
Tan Heiyue took the teapot and filled both cups with nimble movements that lacked any real elegance. Small warm wisps rose from the cups, carrying their fragrance upward, and Xue Yanluo caught the scent immediately and praised it. "This tea is quite good."
Xue Yanluo heard Tan Heiyue's breathing quicken and grow slightly heavier—then stop, as he took his cup, brought it close to his face, and breathed in its fragrance.
"It's a new tea I bought recently from the east. I hope it's to your liking."
There was a faint reluctance buried in his words. He blew gently on the tea, sending small ripples across the surface, and waited for it to cool before drinking.
Xue Yanluo took his cup and blew on it as well. He brought it to his lips, and at the first contact of tea with his mouth, he felt an uncomfortable, strange, unfamiliar sensation. He pulled the cup away and inspected it, looking for something wrong—there was nothing, and he brought it back to his lips. The same sensation hit him, but this time he ignored it and drank. He nearly spat it out. It wasn't repulsive—it seemed to have no taste at all, and he felt it drag across his tongue and slide down his throat.
He took a couple more sips and set the cup down quickly on the table, as though it were burning his hands.
"It's a good tea. Where is it from?"
"From Canghai province. I came across it during a posting there and couldn't forget the aftertaste."
After a little more small talk, Xue Yanluo decided to get to the point. "I want to know which soldiers were patrolling the streets near the Three Rivers restaurant—I've heard there was an incident."
"Yes — a strange case, as it happens. A lunatic beat one of the soldiers and bit him on the neck before running off. He hasn't attacked anyone else so far. Just wait until he's caught…"
The hand on Xue Yanluo's thigh closed tightly, and his gaze wavered for a few seconds before he steadied himself and brought it back under control. He sighed and said in a tired tone, "Let's hope there are no more lunatics. Is the soldier all right?"
"He was tended to and given a day off. He should be at home."
"Mm. Good. I'd like to know where he lives—I'll go and see him. It's my duty as a prince to look into any trouble, especially near the palace."
Tan Heiyue glanced at him sideways, and a moment later stood and rummaged through a drawer for a while. He pulled out a stack of papers and, after searching through them, drew one out and read it with a few small nods.
"This one. Here." He handed the paper over. "Return it when you're done—I don't have another copy."
Xue Yanluo left and slipped through the pedestrians and streets, coming to a stop in front of a modest house with a small sign reading Hua Zhenfeng"—the soldier's name. The rest of it looked fairly worn, with a large patch and traces of repair along part of the door. How should I go in? I've been feeling the connection between us growing stronger for a while now, like a pulse… I should knock. He stepped forward and knocked, lying, passing himself off as a fellow soldier from the man's unit.
Seconds later, a woman opened the door and invited the young man knocking to come in. She led him to a small room where a young man lay on the floor, bandages around his neck and ointment on his face. He looked ill and had been sleeping all day, waking sporadically only to drift off again within minutes. The woman left the room, leaving them alone.
The connection between them began to resonate, and the soldier's eyes snapped open, fixing on Xue Yanluo. He sat up and knelt before him. "My lord, your faithful servant presents himself before your greatness."
"What… are you doing?"
"Is something wrong, my lord? Have I made an error?" he said, nervous.
So he did turn into a vampire after all… Shit, shit… Do I kill him? No, get a hold of yourself. That would only draw attention to me. I need to take him with me. Xue Yanluo finished weighing his options and looked Hua Zhenfeng over.
"Do you know what you are now?"
"Not entirely. I only know that I am close to becoming something called a vampire."
"Close? You haven't fully turned yet?"
Hua Zhenfeng trembled uncontrollably and knelt fully, arching his back and pressing his forehead to the floor.
"Forgive me, my lord, for being incompetent."
"It's all right, you can relax. Tell me—why do you say you're close? What are you missing?"
"I don't know. It's a strange feeling in my body that I can't make sense of. There is only one thought that repeats itself to me without stopping—that I need one drop of blood from my lord to finish the transformation."
Xue Yanluo looked somewhat surprised, his gaze drifting as he sank into thought. His mind had cleared a few moments later, and he raised his hand, extending his index finger. He studied it carefully, then drew a small knife he always kept on him from beneath his clothing.
He made a cut on his finger and was about to let the drop of blood fall to Hua Zhenfeng when the crimson energy in his body surged and rushed entirely toward his finger. The force of it was such that a little energy leaked out through the wound, dissolving into the air. That energy sealed the cut and settled, erasing every trace of what had happened.
He inspected his finger and ran his thumb across it, feeling the skin—it was impossible to imagine there had ever been a cut there. Hm… Why…? He wondered inwardly. After thinking through a solution for a while, he applied it—he cut his finger again, but this time closed his eyes and tried to hold the energy back.
The energy fought him, unwilling to yield, thrashing inside him with fury. His grip on it was slipping, and he didn't waste a second—the moment enough blood welled from the cut to form a drop, he lowered his hand over the soldier's mouth and let it fall in.
The soldier swallowed the drop. His eyes clouded over, his lids drawing closed over them, and he fell to the floor unconscious.