Chapter 21

ZHEN

They lay in a tangle of limbs, catching their breath.

They had done it twice—once last night and again in the early morning. Zhen's body was pleasantly sore, and the invisible

imprint of Xian's touch still lingered on his arms, his torso, his thighs.

Despite all the occasions he had transformed, his human body always felt like a second skin that was ready to be shed. But

Xian had changed that. For the first time, Zhen had discovered sensitive places he didn't know he had, sensations he never

knew his body was capable of. He tried to memorize everything, the pleasure, even the pain, because Xian had been right there,

murmuring reassurances every step of the way.

He started to get up, but Xian caught his hand.

"Stay," he said.

Zhen acquiesced, nestling his head on Xian's chest. The steady vibrations of Xian's heartbeat against his cheek suddenly reminded him of how, when coiled around his prey as a snake, he felt their faltering heartbeats until they faded to nothing. He forced the unwanted sense memory aside.

Xian idly caressed his hair. "Worn out?"

Zhen brushed his lips over Xian's clavicle. "I'm ready for the third time when you are."

Xian let out a breathless chuckle. "Give me a moment to recover."

His hand slid down Zhen's torso and drew circles on his skin. Zhen shivered, although he stiffened when Xian's fingers found

the smooth, raised scar above his left hip.

Xian halted. "What happened here?"

If the old tortoise hadn't found him in that snake trap and helped him get free...

"I don't remember," Zhen replied. "It was a long time ago."

That was a lie, and he was sure Xian knew it. Pain that left a mark that deep wasn't something you could ever forget. But

he couldn't tell Xian how he had gotten the scar any more than he could tell him the truth about who he really was.

Xian moved, rolling Zhen onto his back. He bent forward and kissed a languid trail down Zhen's chest and across his abdomen

until he reached the scar. Zhen gasped as Xian's tongue darted over the knot of healed flesh. The intimacy, the tenderness—Zhen

felt a stirring between his legs again.

Zhen reversed their positions, planted his knees on either side of Xian's body, and captured the other boy's mouth in a fervent kiss. Xian's pleased grin when they pulled apart, both of them panting and flushed, confirmed how much Xian relished seeing that bold side of him.

"You said you were born in Wuyue," Xian said, smoothing his thumb over Zhen's cheekbone. "I want you to come home with me."

Zhen's breath caught in his throat. "Are you—are you serious?"

Xian nodded.

"The palace in Xifu is right by the West Lake," he said. "Standing on the Broken Bridge and watching the sun set behind Leifeng

Pagoda... it's unforgettable. And I can introduce you to my mother. I think she'd really love to meet you."

The mention of Xian's mother was like an avalanche crashing down on Zhen.

He drew back. "I don't think that's a good idea."

Xian sounded puzzled. "Why not?"

"I'm sure you have more capable courtesans to serve you in Wuyue."

"You're not a courtesan. And I don't want any of them. I want you." Xian's brow furrowed. "Why is that so hard for you to

believe? What are you afraid of?"

Zhen wanted more than anything to go back to Wuyue with him. But he couldn't.

He wordlessly pulled Xian into a kiss. This time it was slow, deep, lingering. Like the melted snow on the sunny side of the Broken Bridge, he just couldn't let go of the illusion, even if it couldn't last. Even if it was never real.

When they broke apart, Xian tucked a loose strand of hair behind Zhen's ear.

"The oracle led me to Changle to heal my mother," he told Zhen. "I will not return to Wuyue without the cure." He leaned in

until their noses bumped. "And I know, deep in my heart, that I won't be going back without you either."

Zhen averted his eyes so Xian wouldn't see the expression in them.

"The sky is getting light." He swung his legs over the side of the bed. "Shall we go to the infirmary to see if Feng is feeling

better?"

When they arrived, Feng was sitting up, his left shoulder bandaged and his arm in a sling. Qing was by his side, holding up

a spoonful of congee. Was she feeding him?

"If I'd known you had this young lady for company," Xian said, walking to Feng's bed, "I wouldn't have come visit so early."

Feng blushed. So did Qing as she lowered the spoon. Zhen arched an eyebrow at her, and she gave him a quelling glance.

Zhen still didn't feel entirely at ease around Feng. "I hope you're feeling better, my lord."

"Hold on, Zhen." Xian turned to him. "When you stop a leopard from biting Feng's head off, you earn the right to call him

by his name. It's one of the royal decrees of the kingdom of Wuyue."

Feng shot Xian a mock-affronted look. "Biting my head off is an overstatement, don't you think?"

Xian touched the back of his hand to Feng's forehead. "Has your fever broken? Any chills?"

"I'm fine," Feng replied. "The physician said I should be out of the sling by the Duanwu Festival."

Xian looked at Qing. "Tell the kitchen to make a special soup of pork ribs double boiled with white peony, lotus seeds, ginseng,

and cordyceps at every meal for the next couple of days. That's the recipe for my mother's special healing tonic. Serve it

to him personally."

"Yes, Your Highness," Qing replied. "I'll ask the chefs to start preparing the soup right away."

"I'll go with her and have your breakfast brought here, Your Highness," Zhen volunteered. He was quite sure Xian wanted some

time alone with his best friend.

When he and Qing stepped out of the infirmary, Zhen gave her a grin. "Didn't expect to see you here."

Qing shrugged. "My job is to bring meals to the Wuyue delegation. Since Feng's in the infirmary, I delivered his breakfast

there instead."

"I see. Does your job also include feeding him?"

She turned red. "His arm is in a sling! How's he supposed to hold the bowl and the spoon at the same time?"

"Well, he seemed pleased." Zhen gave her a fond nudge. "Almost like he thought getting mauled by a leopard was worth it."

Qing smiled furtively. "He's all right, I suppose. A lot less uptight than I thought."

Zhen glanced around them to make sure no one was within earshot. "Listen, there's something I need to tell you."

"Yeah, I know." Qing smirked and pointed at his neck. "Your prince left a pretty obvious clue."

Zhen's cheeks flushed. He'd been walking around the palace with a bite on his neck. Feng must've seen it too.

Qing leaned in conspiratorially. "So how was it? Did it hurt a lot the first time?"

Zhen waved her off. "That wasn't what I wanted to talk to you about. He told me that when he goes back to Wuyue... he wants

me to come with him."

"Are you going to?" Qing sounded astonished. "Wait—what about me? You'll ask him if I can come too, right?"

"No. We need to leave Changle before he does. We've already stayed far too long."

Qing blinked. "I thought you liked the prince."

Zhen shut his eyes. The hurt was like a wound left by a serrated hook that had been yanked out of his chest. "I do."

Qing frowned. "Then is this because he's hunting snakes? Humans have been hunting us for a long time, for all kinds of reasons.

Our skins. Our meat. Our gallbladders—"

"I was the one who stole the cure from him," Zhen blurted out.

Qing looked startled. "What? How could that be? You only just met him!"

Zhen couldn't keep this bottled up any longer.

"I first met Xian seven years ago, when I was an ordinary snake," he said. "He was only ten years old at that time. He fell into the West Lake and almost drowned. Something drew me to him, and I pulled him out of the water. He was holding a spirit pearl in his hand, and I... took it."

Understanding dawned in Qing's eyes. "The pearl turned you into a snake spirit?"

"The same pearl that was meant to cure his mother of her snakebite." Zhen rubbed his forehead, thoroughly miserable. "I didn't

know until he told me a few days ago."

"You can't blame yourself," Qing said. "You had no idea what the pearl was for. You were a snake. You saw something shiny,

and you swallowed it. That's what animals do."

"I knew exactly what it was," Zhen replied. "An old tortoise spirit once told me that these pearls were so valuable to them

because consuming one added hundreds of years' worth of cultivation and they could ascend to heaven sooner. I didn't care

about all that; I just wanted to become a snake spirit so I could transform and live as a human. I took the pearl, and...

I just left Xian there on that islet in the middle of the lake. He might've died if no one had rescued him."

"He's a prince . The palace wouldn't have stopped searching until they found him. You saved his life, Zhen. He wouldn't be here now if it

weren't for you."

Zhen had never thought about it that way. Even though the strong taking from the weak was the law of nature, all these years

he had lived with the guilt, the persistent reminder that he was an impostor living a life that wasn't his.

He slipped his hand into the sleeve of his robe and withdrew a small piece of parchment. He had surreptitiously taken it from the dresser table while Xian wasn't looking.

貞 . It means "virtue and loyalty," Xian had said.

Zhen gazed at his name in Xian's handwriting, and something sharp and bittersweet twisted through his chest.

"What's that?" Qing asked.

Zhen folded the piece of parchment and put it back into his sleeve pocket. Zhen was a snake, and Xian was a snake hunter.

There was no way anything between them could end well.

"We will leave Changle the day after the Duanwu Festival," he told Qing.