Lianju returned the next day.
And the day after that.
And the day after that.
For an entire week, he came and went like a stray breeze that refused to be shut out. Each time he slipped back into Wushuang's room, he brought something with him, fruit stolen or traded from somewhere, bits of food wrapped in cloth, small trinkets that served no real purpose except to prove that he had thought of bringing them.
At first, Wushuang had tried to drive him away.
Then he grew tired of wasting the effort. So he let Lianju do as he pleased.
Lianju tended to the lash wounds across his back with far more care than anyone in the Cold Palace had ever shown him. He applied medicine, changed the bandages, and scolded him whenever he moved too much.
And little by little, without either of them naming it, Wushuang grew used to the sight of him. Soon, the boy no longer even blinked whenever Lianju slipped in through the window as though he belonged there.
Today was no different.
"If you keep doing this," Wushuang said from where he sat on the bed, "you will put yourself in even greater danger."
He watched as Lianju reached back to close the window he had just climbed through.
Lianju rolled his eyes. "Then send me away."
Wushuang frowned and turned his head aside without answering.
That alone was answer enough.
Lianju's lips curved into a grin. He strode over and threw himself onto the bed with no regard for dignity. "Oh?" he teased. "So you cannot. Does that mean you are finally growing fond of me?"
Wushuang paid him no mind. He simply shut his eyes as though the other boy's voice were no more than an irritating breeze.
Lianju, undeterred, pulled an apple from inside his sleeve and held it beneath Wushuang's nose.
The scent reached him at once.
Wushuang's eyes snapped open, and before Lianju could even speak, the fruit was snatched cleanly from his hand.
Lianju clicked his tongue. "You little brat. Look how quickly you take my gifts, yet you still act as though you do not need me."
"It is the only thing you are useful for," Wushuang said coolly before biting into the apple.
"You should wash that first," Lianju said, appalled.
Wushuang ignored him and took another bite.
By now, these visits had become almost routine. Lianju had been coming for weeks, each time bringing something and staying a little longer. Somewhere in those stolen hours, a strange sort of bond had formed between them.
Wushuang glanced at him. "Do you have nowhere else to go, that you insist on lingering around me like this?"
"Nope," Lianju said cheerfully. "Nowhere at all." Then he puffed up with misplaced pride and pointed toward the ceiling. "I have made a home for myself on your roof."
Wushuang stared at him. "How did you manage that?"
"Your guards are sloppy," Lianju said with obvious satisfaction. "I come and go as I please, and no one notices a thing. From up there, I can see everything."
There was a lightness in the way he said it, but beneath it was something else. He had lived through enough hardship that even a roof over his head, however temporary, was something he could claim with pride.
Wushuang was about to answer when the sound of approaching footsteps reached them.
Both boys went still.
The footsteps came closer.
Lianju jumped off the bed at once, panic flashing across his face. There was no time to reach the window now.
Wushuang's eyes dropped briefly, then he pointed sharply beneath the bed.
Lianju needed no further instruction. He dropped to the floor and hurried underneath just as the door was shoved open.
Hua entered.
A guard followed close behind him.
Hua's gaze swept across the room, searching, suspicious, before finally settling on Wushuang. His lip curled faintly. "I see you have recovered."
Wushuang said nothing. He merely looked back at him, expression unreadable.
For a moment, Hua lingered there, as though hoping to catch something out of place. Then, finding nothing, he muttered a curse under his breath and turned on his heel. The guard followed him out, and the door shut once more behind them.
Only then did Wushuang let out a quiet breath.
A moment later, Lianju crawled out from under the bed, dust clinging to his sleeves and hair. "Heavens," he whispered, then laughed shakily, "I thought I was finished for sure."
Wushuang shot him a sharp look at once. "Keep your voice down."
Lianju waved a hand as though the warning were unnecessary. "Yes, yes." He straightened quickly and moved toward the window. "I had better go now. I will come back soon."
And before Wushuang could say another word, Lianju slipped back out through the window as easily as he had entered.
Lianju dropped lightly from the top of the stone wall and landed on the ground below. Straightening, he dusted his palms together and muttered under his breath,
"This is becoming more reckless by the day."
He turned to leave and nearly walked straight into someone.
He stopped at once.
A man stood there watching him calmly. He wore a broad straw hat that cast a shadow over most of his face, and his clothes were plain enough to belong to any common servant. But Lianju did not recognize him.
That alone was enough to put him on guard.
Had he been seen sneaking out?
If this man reported what he had witnessed, would Wushuang be punished for it?
His mind began racing at once.
The stranger seemed to notice his alarm.
"There is no need to panic," he said quietly, lifting his face just enough to reveal an older, weathered countenance. "I am not here to cause you trouble."
Lianju did not relax. "Who are you?"
"Just a passerby," the man replied with a tired sigh. Then his gaze shifted to the wall Lianju had just climbed down from. "That is quite a height."
Lianju followed his line of sight but said nothing.
The old man looked back at him. "Are you close to the young lord in there?"
Lianju's eyes narrowed. "Why do you need to know? And how do you know someone is there?"
He studied the man carefully. Lianju knew the faces of the servants in the Cold Palace well enough by now, and he was certain he had never seen this one before.
The man coughed and lifted his sleeve to cover his mouth. When he lowered it again, he stepped closer, his voice quieter than before.
"How I know is not important." He looked Lianju in the eye. "If you are close to him… then please help me take care of him."
With that, the man turned and began to walk away.
Lianju stared after him, baffled. "Who are you?"
The old man only waved one hand in the air without turning back. "You will know someday," he said. Then, after a pause, he added, "Be careful."
Lianju watched him disappear into the distance, then shrugged to himself.
A lunatic, perhaps.
He had no interest in chasing after strange old men with riddles in their mouths, so he turned and headed off in the opposite direction.
Two days later, Lianju returned to the Cold Palace as usual.
He scaled the outer fence and swung himself over with the same easy confidence he always had. But the moment his feet touched the ground, two guards lunged out from the shadows.
Before he could react, they seized him.
A hard blow struck the side of his head, and darkness came at once.
When Lianju opened his eyes again, he was already being dragged across the courtyard, his body limp between the guards as they hauled him forward.
Meanwhile, inside his room, Wushuang sat in silence until the noise outside began to swell louder and louder. At first, he ignored it. He had no wish to concern himself with whatever fresh cruelty was unfolding in the courtyard.
But the commotion only grew.
Frowning, he rose from his seat and stepped outside.
The moment he entered the courtyard, he saw Hua standing with several guards. Servants lingered nearby in clusters, murmuring among themselves and watching from a safe distance. Wushuang's expression hardened.
What now?
Then a familiar voice reached his ears. "I told you, I got here by accident. I thought this was my grandmother's house."
Wushuang's heart lurched.
That voice....
He pushed past the servants blocking his view, and the moment he saw who was kneeling on the ground, his breath caught.
Lianju.
His hands were bound tightly with rope, pinning his arms in place. Blood ran down from his head, and bruises already darkened his face and body. They had beaten him badly.
How had they found him?
Hua noticed him at once and smiled. "Ah, Your Highness. You have come to join us." He gestured lazily toward the kneeling boy. "Look what we found. A stray."
Wushuang did not even spare him a glance. His eyes were fixed only on Lianju, on the blood at his temple, on the way he was forced to kneel there like a criminal.
He took two slow steps forward and stopped. When he finally spoke, his voice was cold enough to cut.
"What is this?"
"Oh?" Hua bent down, grabbed Lianju by the chin, and forced his face upward. "I thought perhaps Your Highness might recognize him." His smile sharpened. "Does this face look familiar to you?"
Behind his back, Wushuang's fists tightened until his nails bit into his palms.
Lianju, however, seemed far more caught on another detail. He looked at Wushuang in stunned confusion.
Your Highness?
Wasn't that title reserved for imperial princes.
"Wait… wait…" Lianju coughed, and Hua frowned at him impatiently.
"What?"
"Your Highness?" Lianju repeated, blinking like a man struck by enlightenment far too late. "This is a prince's residence?"
He shook his head dramatically. "How could I be so stupid?" Then he turned at once to Hua and began speaking in a rush. "Mister, I am telling the truth. I really did not know this wasn't my grandmother's house. See, they gave me this address. She is old, you understand. Sometimes she forgets things."
Then he looked toward Wushuang with a face full of pitiful sincerity. "Your Royalness, please believe me. I really was looking for my grandmother."
Around them, the servants exchanged strange looks. Even one of the guards frowned.
Hua stared at him as though uncertain whether he was dealing with a liar or a lunatic.
"This place is in the middle of nowhere," one guard muttered. "What grandmother lives here?"
The other shook his head. "I've never seen one."
Lianju's face lit up as though that were the most helpful question in the world. "Ah! Then perhaps you have seen her. She's not very tall, a little chubby, with a lovely smile, white hair and..."
The rest of his nonsense was cut short by a brutal slap.
Hua's hand struck so hard that Lianju spilled blood from the corner of his mouth at once.
"Bullshit," Hua snarled. "That is all that comes out of your mouth."
Lianju winced, but somehow he still found breath to continue. "Mister, I am telling the truth. Children like me do not lie. Please believe me."
Wushuang turned his face away.
If he admitted he knew Lianju, Hua would kill him.
If Hua discovered that Lianju had been sneaking into the Cold Palace to see him all this time, he would not kill him quickly either. He would torture him first.
Even knowing that, the words rose inside Wushuang before he could stop them. "Let him go."
His voice remained cold, deliberately empty. He could not afford to show even the slightest trace of feeling. One wrong look and tone, Lianju would die.
Hua tilted his head slowly. "Let him go?" he repeated. "He is a thief and a liar. Sneaking into the Cold Palace is a crime worthy of death." He looked down at Lianju, then smiled cruelly and turned back to Wushuang. "Unless…"
His eyes glittered.
"Does Your Highness know him?"
Wushuang forced himself not to flinch.
Do not shift. Do not show it. Do not let him see.
"No," he said.
Lianju gave the faintest smile and lowered his head. He did not look surprised. If Wushuang admitted the truth, Hua would beat him to death before the night ended.
"Oh, what a pity," Hua sighed theatrically. "If Your Highness had said you knew him, I might have considered sparing him." He straightened and motioned to the guards. "Take him away."
The guards stepped forward and grabbed Lianju.
"No!"
The word tore from Wushuang before he could swallow it.
Hua turned at once, his smile widening. "Eh? But why, Your Highness?"
He began to circle him slowly, like a dog scenting blood. "Or could it be," Hua drawled, "that Your Highness does know this little thief after all?" His voice dropped lower. "Is he spying for you?"
Wushuang looked away and said nothing.
Hua stepped closer and seized his chin, forcing his face back toward him. "Your Highness did not lie to me, did he?"
"Just let him go," Wushuang said, and now despite himself, there was the faintest crack in his voice. "He did not steal anything."
Hua's smile deepened into something uglier. "So Your Highness does know him." He studied him for a long moment. "Does Your Highness understand what it means to harbor an outsider while under punishment?"
"Hey!" Lianju burst out. "I came here on my own. He had nothing to do with it!"
Hua did not even turn. "Oh, but he does." Only then did he look back at Lianju. "You see," Hua said, pleasantly, "from the beginning I suspected something was wrong. I simply had not yet found the source of it." His expression darkened. "Now I have. You have been entering this place without permission, entertaining a prisoner condemned for treason."
His voice sharpened on the last words. "Do you understand now?"
Lianju's face twisted with fury. "You are a sick bastard."
At once, Wushuang stepped forward and grabbed Hua's sleeve. "Let him go," he said. "I will take the blame."
Slowly, Hua peeled Wushuang's hand from his sleeve and brushed the fabric afterward as though removing something filthy.
"Your Highness," he said, "unfortunately, I cannot."
Then he turned his head toward the guards.
"He must be punished," Hua said coldly. "Beat him to death."