Chapter Forty-Five Point of No Return

CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

POINT OF NO RETURN

I stumble through the palace with my scythe, my composure crashing after getting away from Qin Zheng on pure adrenaline. The sweetness of the lychee juice lingers in my mouth. Why would he swindle me in such a pointless way?

I make the mistake of looking over my shoulder. He remains half-shadowed on the balcony, one hand on the railing, watching me go.

He’s right about one thing: I’m not afraid of him killing me. That would make sense.

This doesn’t.

Regardless, I head straight to Taiping’s residence to tell her there’s hope for Wan’er. She yelps in joy, having been so anxious that she couldn’t sleep. Though she raises a brow at my disheveled hair. There are probably bruises on my throat, too. I tell her to not worry about it and change the topic to Yizhi, wanting to know what she heard before Qin Zheng officially announced her little brother as a fugitive wanted for treason. Surely there was gossip in the palace about us getting knocked out.

Her eyes go unfocused. “Everyone was saying he tried to assassinate Your Highness and His Majesty, but…that can’t be what actually happened, can it?”

“I don’t think it’d be a good idea for me to give specifics.” I give her a look we’ve shared many times in the tunnels. The look that tells her there’s mortal danger in pressing further, even if it’s about her own kin.

Her lips pinch shut. We live with no shortage of secrets.

In the court assembly the next morning, Qin Zheng declares the abolition of extended punishment, issues a mass pardon, and summons Taiping to appoint her as the new Minister of Finance. I watch from my tinted side section as she accepts her set of purple official robes with wide, frozen eyes, as if she’s taking a precious artifact into her arms.

She’s the first woman in the central court in two centuries. Many officials—even staunch laborists—look like they’d be bursting into protest if they didn’t know better than to do that in the open against Qin Zheng. I have no doubt they’ll write memos to complain about how her womanly brain can’t possibly understand economics beyond how to shop for a family dinner. They’ll do everything in their power to goad Taiping into quitting, just like the schoolboys trying to harass their female classmates into giving up. But just as my Phoenix Ladies got those boys to stop by paying menacing visits to their homes and guarding the girls on their way to school, I will be the nightmare of any official who dares to be a nuisance. Society will march on, whether these men are ready for it or not.

Once Qin Zheng dismisses the assembly, Taiping, Qieluo, and I head to the Tianlao to welcome Wan’er and her mother out. Although the mass pardon was only for those implicated via extended punishment, Qin Zheng read Auntie Kudi’s short story overnight and personally dismissed her case.

“The mere fact that she mentioned a tyrant in the story does not mean she was alluding to me ,” he said with a snort to me before the assembly.

Thanks to our insider info, we get to the Tianlao before what’s bound to be a flood of weeping loved ones reuniting with freed prisoners.

Warden Lai is all smiles and bows while bringing Wan’er and her mother to us in a prisoner processing room. They’re wearing suspiciously pristine orange jumpsuits—probably pulled out of storage ten minutes before we arrived, judging by the crisp folds still on them—though there’s no hiding the weariness on their faces. Their skin is sallow, and their under-eye circles look as bad as Qin Zheng’s. With a choked sob, Taiping rushes to pull Wan’er into her arms.

“Your Highness.” Warden Lai clasps his hands near his throat. “I hope you will keep in mind that we of the Tianlao were simply doing our duty.”

Wan’er betrays no emotion over Taiping’s shoulder. “Let’s just go, Your Highness.”

It’s only once we’re in the extra-large carriage we brought to fit all of us does she speak of what she went through.

“They put us in different cells.” Wan’er holds her mother close. “Poured vinegar up my nose and kept me awake this whole time with bright lights and loud music. Demanded that I confess to being in contact with counter-revolutionaries.”

“Same here.” Auntie Kudi sighs, her voice hoarse.

“Everyone who works there needs to be investigated.” Wan’er peers outside the carriage window at the flow of people hurrying to the Tianlao. “I had it easy by comparison. There was screaming all down the hall. When I was going in, I saw people getting their fingernails pulled out.”

“I’ll hold them accountable,” I mutter.

Taiping kisses Wan’er’s greasy hair, fastened loosely at her nape. “Get some sleep. Things are changing after the insurrection. I’m the Minister of Finance now.”

“ There was an insurrection ?” Wan’er exclaims, almost jumping out of her seat. Horror dawns in her eyes as she looks around at us. “Your Highness didn’t overthrow His Majesty, did you?”

“No,” I say after a pause. “I didn’t.”

Wan’er slackens in relief. Then a jolt goes through her. “It’s not that I don’t think Your Highness would make a good ruler! But…”

“But I would’ve doomed the revolution,” I muse for her. “Me seizing power would’ve made all the reactionaries’ claims seem true. So many would’ve risen with them. The only way to save myself would’ve been to yield to their interests, return their properties, and let the downtrodden be downtrodden again.”

Wan’er breathes deeply in and out. “I’m glad that didn’t happen.”

“You still…?” Taiping leaves much unsaid.

Wan’er cracks a weak smile. “There will always be cruel people, no matter what kind of system we’re living under. I’m not letting them stop me from wanting better for the rest of us.”

Taiping drops me off at the Alliance’s North Gate branch so I can write and record my statement on the insurrection. By the time I finish my work and return to the palace, Qin Zheng is still meeting with officials.

The moment I step into my— our residence, I feel a discomforting ripple of change. Things are not where I put them. My books are stacked differently. There’s a pressure cooker in the bedchamber for some reason, and in the bathroom is what looks suspiciously like Yizhi’s entire skin care collection, expropriated. The mirrors above the sink have been removed, though. Only a small hand mirror remains on the counter, turned toward the stripped wall.

When I sit down at my desk and leaf through my books, memories of Di Renjie come crashing back. These are mostly his personal copies, well-used and littered with his notes and highlights. Sharp pangs shoot through my chest at every shorthand whose meaning is now lost with him and every sentence he underlined for reasons he can no longer explain. The words blur over.

I did all I could , I want to tell him.

Any attempt at broadcasting the truth, the gods will stop. Any person I tell, Qin Zheng will doom. I can play my little games with him, but I know full well where his boundaries are. Now that he’s free, he has even more control over me.

It was a foolish thing to do, anyway. The truth would’ve destabilized Huaxia further, and we need it to be as stable as possible before we go after the gods. Only when the gods are gone can anyone do anything about the truth.

I hope Qin Zheng never sees those few seconds of memories that prove my attempted treason, though I’m prepared to defend myself. I did save the revolution.

I don’t hear Qin Zheng come in while I’m taking a bath to clear my head, but when I emerge, the only lights on in the vast bedchamber are the lotus-shaped lamps near the bed. With his usual black robe on and his hair in a lazy bun, he sits on the edge of the round mattress, framed by translucent red drapes on either side, reading a piece of paper by the low lamplight.

“Your handwriting has improved greatly,” he says without lifting his attention from the paper. “Now it looks only marginally like a child’s.”

Warmth rises in my cheeks, though I don’t know why I’m embarrassed. It’s not my fault I grew up without opportunities to learn. “It’d be way better if I had started as a child. Will you put more funding into education for girls in mountain villages?”

He groans. “No more talk of politics for the night. I have grown weary of it.” He returns the page to a pile on the elevated platform the bed is on. When he finally takes a proper look at me, the lamplight gleams in his eyes, kindling them orange like a tiger’s. He draws a deep breath while going taut as a bowstring. I’m wearing the gold-tinted robe that torments him the most, along with compression stockings, which have really helped with my circulation after the surgery. The fewer functioning brain cells he has, the easier he’ll be to deal with.

“Come to me,” he says, his voice gaining a charred edge.

“Yes, that’s what I’m doing.” Scythe in hand, I amble toward him over the long carpet that leads to the bed, feeling like a moth fluttering toward a candle flame. “I went to the Tianlao. You really need to get a better grip on what’s going on in there.”

“What did I say about no more politics?” He gets to his feet as I approach, towering over me on the bed platform.

“I’m being serious. Don’t be more concerned about getting laid than being a good ruler.”

Confusion passes his half-masked face, then he recovers with a small grin. “?‘Getting laid.’ Is that what they call it in this era? Because if so, I must say the people will be much more fortunate once I’m in a better mood.”

I thump the end of my scythe on the platform, preparing to climb. “I should’ve turned the Yellow Dragon around on you.”

When he helps lift me up, his fingers dig into my flesh a little too forcefully. He doesn’t let go of my waist once I’m on the platform with him.

Maybe that was too honest of a thing to say.

His hand drifts over my arm, sending shivers across my skin. “Were you tempted?” he says, the softness of his voice at odds with the intensity in his eyes.

The heaving of his chest against mine makes me realize how quickly I’m breathing. “What do you think?”

He eases my scythe out of my grasp and lets it drop. It hits the floorboards with a loud echo that makes me tense against him, instinctive fear swirling with the distraction of looking right at the outrageously low cut of his robe. It’s very annoying that my brain isn’t functioning well either. Since when have I been impressed by a nice shoulders-to-waist ratio? Who even notices that?

He sinks down on the bed again, though his accusatory expression fades when his attention strays to my soft, pudgy belly. He prods it with his fingers. “Sometimes I forget you’re not truly carrying my child.”

I slide my arms over his shoulders. “I would literally rather kill myself,” I say against his lips.

Before he can react, I press our mouths together, kissing him with a viciousness barely contained under my skin. Hatred roars like a wind-gusted inferno inside me. I imagine killing him a dozen different ways—including ripping off his neck bandages and finishing the job Yizhi abandoned—while straddling his lap. He gathers me close, caressing my thighs back and forth before pulling my hips harshly against his own. A gasp breaks our kiss at what I feel through our thin robes.

“Would you like to know why I fooled you with the lychee juice?” He nuzzles my neck, voice rough. “I sensed you were looking for an excuse to cast away your inhibitions, yet what a shame it would be if your mind were clouded.” His fingers glide down my spinal brace. I shudder, feeling as if my very bones might succumb to the same liquefying power he holds over spirit metal. “I want you to remember every detail of this,” he whispers in my ear.

Wicked heat surges through my veins. From rage or desire, I can’t tell anymore.

“I hate you so much .” I tighten against him. I’m so desperate for the relief of brutal violence that I roll my body against his as the next best thing, again and again, gripping his shoulders for leverage. I want to destabilize him. If I can’t have peace, neither will he.

He makes a low, startled sound at the sensations no doubt coursing through him. Then he laughs.

“Yet here you are.” His voice slips into a rumble. He palms my breasts through my robe, thumbs swiping over the sensitive tips. “I love the way you know I’m an awful idea, yet you can’t resist me.”

“ As if .” I hold myself together as the jolting pleasure of his every touch pushes me close to falling apart. “I’m not the one who’s been fantasizing about this for months after calling me repulsive.”

“This bravado…” He pinches my chin. “I wonder how long you can sustain it. And how different you’ll sound when you’re lost to desire and begging me for more.”

I breathe through the unbearable heat between us. “Right. I wouldn’t trust performance reviews by women who can’t say no to you.”

He frowns. Something clears in his eyes, and he releases my chin. When he next speaks, his tone is much more normal, no longer low with challenge. “Do you truly believe I would do that to any woman after what my mother went through? I grew up hearing her screams through the wall.”

I gulp. “You have been very persistent at pushing my boundaries.”

“Is that what you feel?” He leans back, the warmth of his arms leaving my body. “Because I was encouraging you to question if your self-denial is born of genuine sentiment or societal imposition. The choice to do this remains yours.”

Head hanging low, I bunch his loose robe collar between my hands, abruptly cold. “It’s not a real choice when you’re the most powerful man in Huaxia.”

“And you are the most powerful woman. By this logic, who has more of a choice to be with me than you?”

“As if you wouldn’t make my life miserable if I chose against it.”

He places a hand on my wrists. “I would not. Last night, did I not stop when you asked me to?”

“Because we made a bargain. Would you really have no complaints if I walked away right now?”

“It was not a bargain. I did not—and would not —make any political decisions solely to bed a woman. I considered the logic in your proposals, and I agreed. That’s separate from what’s between us. If you insist on telling yourself I am coercing you into this because you are unwilling to own up to what you feel, then this goes no further. You are free to leave.” He puts his hands flat to the mattress, far apart from me.

I suddenly feel very silly, straddling him while going on and on about how much I hate him.

After regarding me for a few moments with the heat gone from his eyes, he shakes his head. “ I’ll go.”

He pushes up beneath me. Clearly, he meant to nudge me out of the way, except it ends up feeling like a firm thrust of his hips against mine. Sparks of sensation loop through me. A mortifying whimper escapes my mouth.

“Wait…” I clutch his shoulders.

His brows furrow, though a trace of his usual haughtiness returns to his features. His gaze flicks from my mouth to my eyes. “Would you like to continue?”

I imagine him moving like that again. And again. And again. A traitorous, aching need builds where our bodies meet. I think I might lose my mind if I have to dwell on this for another day. “Yes. Maybe.”

“Is it yes or is it maybe? Be very clear about what you want, dearest. Be honest.”

“Fine. Yes.”

“Yes to what, precisely?” He shifts beneath me as if to adjust his posture, but the look in his eyes tells me he’s reading every little movement in my body. I can’t shake the feeling of having fallen into a trap.

“Yes to this ,” I say, face flushed.

“What might you mean by ‘this’? I’m afraid I need you to describe exactly what you want me to do to you, in great detail.”

The flush spreads to my whole body. “Never mind, I’m leaving!”

He laughs and threads his fingers through my blow-dried hair. “You are like a cat.” He pokes my nose. “Defiant for defiance’s sake.”

“ Did you just —”

“But I have always preferred cats to dogs.” He wraps my hair around his hand, tugging lightly. “Obedience given too easily is worth next to nothing.”

“You know, maybe I have so many second thoughts because you say stuff like that .”

“You speak and do plenty that enrages me. That does not stop me from wanting you.”

My mouth pops open, yet no response comes out.

His arms encircle my waist. “How about this: if you ever wish for me to stop doing something, and you mean it resolutely, say the words…‘private property.’ I will stop. No matter what.”

“?‘Private property’?” I splutter.

He lets go of me at once. “This way, it is absolutely clear. You ought to admit, you give off rather mixed signals. And I will admit I can get a tad aggressive. Let us have no more misunderstandings.”

“What’s to stop you from punishing me later for denying you?”

“I will not. This I promise you.”

My teeth gnash together. “Yeah, right. Why should I believe you?”

Something unnervingly close to hurt flashes in his eyes. He shutters them. His chest rises and falls, almost touching mine again, before he says, “Because I miss you when you’re gone. The nightmares return to me. It is…not pleasant. My days without you are not pleasant. The only nights I don’t fear falling asleep are when you’re there with me.”

Oh.

Wow. Okay.

It’s the same for me when I dream without him. Except I wouldn’t volunteer that information under any torture.

When I take too long to respond, he peels his eyes open with an unease I’ve never seen him show, looking like he’s plotting an escape route in his head.

I clasp his half-mask. “Take this off.”

“What?” He startles. “Why?”

“If you want me naked, you have to play by the same rules. Take it off.”

He blinks a few times, eyes darting aimlessly, before letting the mask roll away. The spirit metal retreats over his ear and into his spinal brace.

I graze his jagged scars with my thumb. His hand flies up, fingers landing on my wrist.

Gently, I press my lips to his scars.

He freezes up against me.

It’s a second later that he relaxes, as if he’s thawing all over again. I plant another kiss on his neck bandages, then on his mouth. This time, it’s different from our every collision before. Our lips mingle with the lightness of whispers rather than the violence of curses.

You are mine . A thought surfaces from the cold core of me. You belong to me.

He kisses a hot trail from my chin to my robe collar. His lips nudge at the edge of the silk while murmuring, “There is more between us than hatred. We understand each other like no other. We were bound the moment you awakened me in another era. It was you for a reason.” He pulls back and searches my eyes. “Rule the world with me, empress.”

My blood thrums in my ears, dizzying. “Okay.”

His smile changes in nature. “Good girl.”

In one abrupt movement, he flips me onto my back. My cry of surprise is muffled under his mouth. He pins my arms against the mattress, just like that time in our dream realm.

After a throb of reflexive resistance, I let myself melt along with his movements. I give up on fighting it, this monstrous force inside him. Inside us . For what? I don’t even believe in chastity.

“Just don’t get me pregnant,” I mutter when his lips stray to my neck.

“Are you sure?” he whispers against my thrashing pulse.

Clarity flashes through my dimming thoughts. I wrench one arm free from his grasp and seize his bandaged throat. He hisses, eyes going huge.

“Yes, I’m fucking sure,” I say, much firmer. “Do you want to ruin our whole ruse by getting me pregnant while I’m already supposed to be pregnant? Go put on protection.”

He pries my hand off his neck. “Does your organization not stockpile…pills?”

“Doesn’t matter. Do your part,” I say, thinking of the cutesy posters in Alliance offices with slogans like this. I can’t be preaching about the necessity of taking precautions while neglecting it myself.

He caresses my fingers and puts them to his lips. “But I want to feel all of you.”

I fling my hand out of his. “What in the skies does that even mean? Wrap it, or you won’t be feeling anything but private property !” I shift to get up.

A gruff sigh unfurls from him. “Wait.” He stops me with a few fingers to my chest. “They’re…all the way over there.” He rolls off the bed and walks around it to open a nightstand drawer.

I knew it! Lazy bastard. As if he’d let himself get caught unprepared. He just wanted to see what he could get away with. I can’t drop my guard for a single second around him after all.

What I don’t expect is for him to take an entire pile of foil packages out of the drawer. He slaps them on the nightstand before turning back to me. Eyes like searing coals, he rips one package open with his teeth. There’s such a finality to it that my head spins and my mouth waters.

He holds the package out to me between two fingers.

When I catch on to what he wants me to do, I almost roll my eyes to the back of my skull.

“You are so lazy,” I jeer.

“This is a laborist state. I shall compensate you very fairly.” He smiles. “Once you’re ready for common property , that is.”

“What are you talking about?”

“When you use the stop code, I won’t keep going until you say the opposite words.”

“Oh.” I crawl across the bed and snatch the package from him. Admittedly, I feel a lot better after talking these things out with him, even though I’ll never trust him fully. “Well, I’ll say it if you kneel for me.”

“ Excuse me? ”

“That’s what you get for whining about protection. It may be just a matter of pleasure for you, but it’s a matter of safety for me. You need to understand that.”

“Fine.” He puts his hands to his hips. “I apologize.”

“Not good enough.” I cross my legs and turn the package between my fingers. “How badly do you want this?”

He squints at me, but then his stiff expression loosens into something more wry. He drops to his knees in one fluid motion, almost dangling off the edge of the platform.

“Happy?” he purrs, placing his hands on his thighs.

“Yes. Good boy.”

A prickle goes up my spine at the forced smile that jumps onto his face. I may have pushed him a little too far. How did he manage to make kneeling look menacing?

“Common property,” I say, before regret has time to eat into me.

He pounces forth and drags me toward him by my legs. I yelp as my back hits the mattress, sliding. He rips my robe open and pushes my legs apart. His mouth goes exploring between them.

I make an undignified noise at the sensation that laps into me. I slap my hand over my mouth. He reaches up and smacks my elbow until I release myself and let my voice flow free.

At least he can’t talk while doing this.

I feel like I’m tumbling over a cliff edge, one that he and I have been wrestling on since I dragged him back to life and into a future he loathes. This time, there are no Hundun sirens to reel me elsewhere, no awful revelations to interrupt. There’s just the fall—down, down, down, down into an abyss I should’ve known better than to stare into.