Chapter 12

ZHEN

Zhen sat cross-legged on the floor. Xian sat on a straw mat on the other side of the low table between them, which held a

square wooden board with grid lines that ran vertically and horizontally. Next to the board were two bowls of stones—one bowl

was all black, the other all white.

Feng had left a guard in his stead before he exited the chamber to roster the other guards and show them their posts. The

prince's bodyguard had been cold and curt toward Zhen since he'd arrived earlier in the day. Then again, if he wasn't distrustful,

he wouldn't be very good at his job. Zhen figured the more he tried to gain Feng's approval, the more suspicious Feng would

be.

Xian himself was another enigma. At the break of dawn, Zhen had lain awake in his cot, wondering if the prince would ask for... something to start the morning, but he did not. Zhen had spent the rest of the day learning more about his duties from Steward Chu, which included a tour of the various palace buildings—the kitchen, the scullery, the workshops, the library—so he would know where to get what the prince needed.

"Have you played wéi qí before?" Xian asked.

Zhen shook his head. "I've seen people playing this game in the marketplace. Can you teach me?"

" Wéi qí is a game of encirclement," Xian replied. "The rules are simple: Each player takes turns putting black or white stones on

the intersections between the grid lines. You gain points by capturing opponent stones or expanding your territory into empty

spaces on the board."

"Are there rules about where we have to put the stones?" Zhen asked. "Or can we put them anywhere we like?"

"A stone can be placed on any unoccupied point, but after that, it can't be moved unless it has been taken prisoner—that is,

surrounded on four sides by the opponent."

"And the one who captures the most stones wins?"

Xian nodded. "But don't worry about winning or losing for now. Just learn how to work your way around the board. You take

white and I'll take black, which starts first."

He put a black stone on one of the points in the upper right corner.

Zhen mirrored his first move, putting a white stone in the lower left corner. "You must have started playing when you were

very young."

"My father used to make me play against my oldest half brother, Wang, in some kind of misguided hope that we would bond over the game," Xian replied. "We were well matched, but because I was three years younger, he was embarrassed and enraged whenever I beat him. I guess he thinks he's invincible because his name means ‘king.'?"

"What does your name mean?" Zhen asked.

"Well, Xu is the generation name shared by all my half brothers. Xian is the name my mother chose for me, with my father's blessing. It means ‘immortal.'?" Xian looked wry. "Mothers are always

so optimistic."

He put another black stone on an intersection, capturing one of Zhen's white ones.

Zhen leaned forward, studying the pattern of black and white stones forming on the board with keen interest. "This game seems

simple, but each move leads to countless possibilities."

"No two boards are the same at the end," Xian said. "Games played between grand masters can last so long, they have to be

split across two days. Since Fahai became my father's court adviser a few years ago, he and I play a game every week. He's

even better than the palace teachers."

When the game ended, the heap of white stones in Xian's prisoner pile stood in sharp contrast to the lone black stone in Zhen's.

He wondered if Xian had ceded that one on purpose to give him some encouragement.

"Do you mind if I leave the board this way?" Zhen asked. "I'd like to study it more carefully."

"Of course. You did very well for a first game." Xian sat forward. "I want you to bring your sister here tomorrow."

Zhen tensed. What trouble had Qing gotten herself into now?

"Did she do something wrong?" He couldn't conceal the trepidation in his voice. "If Qing has offended you or the Changle court

in any way, please don't hold it against her. I am willing to bear the punishment in her place."

"Don't look so worried." Xian reached across the table and put a hand on Zhen's wrist. "Your sister isn't in trouble. She's

the only family you've mentioned, and I would like to meet her. Where are both of you from? It's hard to tell from your accent."

"Actually, I was born in Wuyue," Zhen replied. Xian looked surprised, and Zhen continued, "We moved away when I was young.

My family... isn't used to living among people. It's just me and my sister now."

"What's her name?"

"Qing," Zhen said. "I'm certain she'll be excited to meet you."

Xian got to his feet. A tingle of anticipation went through Zhen. The prince hadn't made any advances toward him so far, but

would the second night be different?

Zhen's gaze followed Xian as he walked to the clothes rack where his sleeping robe hung. He took off his shirt and then turned

to Zhen. Zhen blinked, trying not to stare at Xian's bare chest, his lean torso...

"Get a good night's rest," Xian said, putting on his sleeping robe. "Tomorrow afternoon, if the weather is fine, we'll go riding in the countryside. Feng and Fahai will come with us, and you will be our guide. We shall head west, which will give us the longest stretch of daylight before the sun goes down—that's the time snakes come out to search for food."

An invisible noose closed around Zhen's neck. "Snakes?"

"Yes." Xian had a glint in his eye. "That's the only creature I'm interested in hunting. I'll show you."

Xian beckoned him over to a rectangular rattan case in the corner. When he unsnapped the latches and opened the cover, Zhen's

blood ran colder than it ever had.

Inside was a collection of hooks, tongs, poles, nets... They had been cleaned, but Zhen could detect the residue of dried

snake blood on them. There was a cruel metal trap identical to the one he'd been snared in when he was a young snake. His

hand instinctively went to the scar on the left side of his torso.

"Why—why do you have so many tools for killing snakes?" he breathed.

"I don't kill them. I want them alive." Xian let out a mirthless sound. "Although I'd slice every one of them wide open if

that would make my mother feel better for just five minutes."

It was like watching an ugly transformation, an outer skin splitting down the middle and peeling back. Xu had never existed,

and from beneath his visage, the prince's true form emerged.

Zhen fought the nausea that rose in his throat. "What happened to your mother?"

"She was bitten by a white snake." Xian's voice was a blade. "For almost ten years, she has been confined to her bed, and at times the pain is so agonizing that she's paralyzed for days. And when my father brought back a spirit pearl from the Kunlun Mountains to cure her—the white snake resurfaced."

Zhen felt as if icicles had sprung up inside his lungs.

When he'd first seen Xian in the stable, there had been something strikingly familiar about him, like a face he had seen in

a dream—

"I've been hunting snakes of every breed for Fahai, my father's adviser, and he's been working on an antidote," Xian continued.

"All we're missing for the cure is the white snake. An oracle predicted we would find it in Changle, and I intend to capture

it and bring it back alive. We're closer than ever. I can feel it."

A metallic scent filled Zhen's nostrils. Blood gushed from his nose, spilling onto the floor and the front of his robe. Startled,

he took a step back, but his knees couldn't hold his weight—

"Zhen!" Xian was at his side in an instant, steadying him. "Are you all right?"

Zhen was so lightheaded that he couldn't help leaning into Xian's arms. He opened his mouth but couldn't form any words.

"What's wrong?" Xian led him to a chair. "Are you ill? I'll take you to the infirmary."

"No," Zhen managed hoarsely. His fingers reflexively closed around Xian's wrist. "I... I'll be fine."

The boy who fell from the Broken Bridge. The one Zhen dragged onto the shore of the tiny islet in the middle of the lake.

The last time Zhen had seen him, he was a terrified, bedraggled boy gripping a pearl. In the past seven years, Xian had matured

so much that he was completely unrecognizable.

Zhen tried to tilt his head back to prevent the blood from trickling out of his nose, but Xian stopped him.

"Don't. The blood will flow into your stomach and make you sicker. Lean forward and breathe slowly through your mouth." Xian

cradled Zhen's head against his chest and pushed a stray strand of hair away from his face. "Does it hurt anywhere? Tell me."

More than anything, Zhen wished he could tell him. Tell him the truth. But Xian would stare at him like he was a monster.

Maybe even kill him on the spot.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I've made such a mess."

"Shhh." Xian lifted the cuff of his sleeve to Zhen's nose and gently dabbed the blood from his upper lip. "Try not to talk."

Zhen relented, closing his eyes. He could only hope that the other boy would never find out what he was truly apologizing

for.