Chapter 30

XIAN

The next morning, Xian entered the king's chamber dressed in his golden-yellow court robe. Fahai was already there. The incense

that wafted from the burners on either side of his father's throne made Xian recall standing in the temple just before he

left Changle, inhaling the same sweet, woody scent while he had asked the question inside his mind.

Is Zhen the one who will save my mother's life?

Fate had given its answer in the form of two crescent-shaped blocks lying on the floor, one facing up and the other down.

As Xian approached the throne, he raised his eyes to the wooden plaque, behind which was the sacred box with the name of the

king's chosen heir.

"Father." He bowed low. "I have returned."

"General Jian reported that your delegation was attacked by snakes on the journey back from Changle." His father leaned forward, looking concerned. "You were brave but foolhardy to single-handedly chase after the snake spirit and its allies before Feng and the other guards caught up."

"Royal Bodyguard Feng deserves special commendation for the way he handled the situation," Xian replied. "We did not allow

that delay to deter us from bringing the captive back."

Fahai dipped his head in Xian's direction. "I'm relieved to see that you are well, Prince."

"Fahai has just finished giving me a detailed account of your decisive actions in the Min court." The king gave Xian an approving

nod. "Despite various unexpected events, you carried out your mission to bring back the cure that the oracle had predicted."

"Thank you, Father," Xian replied. "I could not have succeeded without Counselor Fahai's wisdom and guidance."

Fahai spoke. "Your Majesty, I have already begun the process of creating the antidote. It will be ready seven days from now."

Xian's stomach churned. He should be gratified that his mother's healing was finally within reach. But the thought of whatever

Zhen was going through now—what he would have to endure for the next seven days—

One day for each year that his mother had unnecessarily suffered, he tried to remind himself.

"The monks from Goryeo are leaving tomorrow, and they have been asking to meet you," Xian's father said to Fahai. "A lavish feast is at odds with their ascetic vows, so arrange for the best vegetarian dishes to be served to them in my dining chamber."

Fahai bowed. "Yes, Your Majesty."

The king turned to Xian. "You should rest after the long journey. You are excused from the meal tonight. Wang will attend

as the representative of the princes."

After the meeting ended, Xian and Fahai exited the king's hall together. Fahai halted on the terrace and looked at Xian somberly.

"I was shocked to hear about the ambush," he said. "Zhen's accomplices should be brought to justice for daring to attack a

royal delegation. I'm relieved to see that you emerged from the ordeal unscathed."

Xian glanced over his shoulder to make sure no one was within earshot.

"Extracting the cure..." Xian hesitated. "Will it hurt him?"

Fahai tilted his head. "You're still concerned about his welfare?"

"I just don't want him to suffer more than he has to."

Fahai put a hand on Xian's shoulder. "I give you my word."

"Well, if it isn't the golden boy returned from Changle," a sneering voice said behind them.

Xian turned. Wang stood there, arms crossed over the front of his yellow robe. His hair was tied in a bun crowned with his

guān lǐ headpiece. On the outside, he seemed the consummate future crown prince, the tall, handsome firstborn who excelled in studies

and swordsmanship.

"Hello, Wang," Xian said. "Father told me that while I was away, you acquired several priceless sutras for his collection from a merchant from Nihon."

Wang flashed a simpering smile. "In addition to hosting the monks from Goryeo and holding meetings with magistrates from Huzhou

prefectures."

"Yes, I heard about that too," Xian replied. "The magistrates reported having problems with cattle husbandry, didn't they?

Farmers are refusing to castrate bull calves with undesirable traits? Good to hear you had your hands full with cattle balls

while I was gone."

Anger flared in Wang's eyes. If they were younger, he would have dragged Xian off somewhere and pummeled him. But they weren't

children anymore. Not since Xian defeated him, by the narrowest of margins, in the sword-fighting championships in front of

the entire royal court, including their father and Wang's mother. Xian had been fifteen, Wang eighteen. That was when his

eldest half brother had stopped seeing him as a child to bully and as a challenger for the throne.

Fahai shot Xian a look that said, Stop baiting your brother . "I shall take my leave. Prince Wang, we will see each other this evening at the farewell meal for your father's guests."

As Fahai walked away, Wang stepped forward, getting right up in Xian's face.

"A prince cavorting with a boy who turned out to be a snake demon." Wang's voice was filled with contempt. "Everyone is talking

about it. What a disgrace you are. Father must be so ashamed."

Xian stiffened but stood his ground. "Fahai and I just met with Father, and he declared the diplomatic mission to Changle a success. So perhaps you should mind your own business."

"What's that saying again? Gè huā rù gè yǎn ?" Wang's mouth twisted. "?‘Different flowers catch different eyes'... and you've always had the most sordid preferences.

One can overlook your choice of gender, but species?"

Xian's hand darted out and shoved Wang's shoulder. He instantly regretted letting his half brother know he had touched a nerve,

but it was too late.

Wang made a show of stumbling a couple of steps back before breaking into a knowing grin.

"They say the travesty of nature you brought back was taken to the palace prison." He gazed pointedly in the direction Fahai

had gone. "But I think I know where your reptile lover is really being held."

The hairs on the back of Xian's neck stood on end, but he forced down the flicker of panic that rose within him. Wang couldn't

possibly know about Fahai's secret laboratory in Leifeng Pagoda. But Xian's lack of swift retort was telling, and Wang was

too smart to miss it.

"I suppose one must excuse your poor taste in bedmates." Wang dusted off the shoulder that Xian had pushed. "After all, no

one would expect the son of a lowborn concubine to have any standards."

Rage ignited inside Xian's head like saltpeter exploding in a hollow bamboo firecracker. Feng had taught him how to hit his opponent's nose hard enough that it would be crooked for life. Every time Wang looked in the mirror, he would remember he never should've dared to speak that way of Xian's mother—

Xian clenched his jaw. There was no use lashing out. Few rules in Confucian teaching were more sacred than showing honor to

older relatives—which included siblings.

Xian raised his chin, his eyes lethal as they met his half brother's. Then he turned on his heel and strode in the opposite

direction, his boots echoing sharply on the white marble.

Xian entered the martial arts training hall alone, still fuming. Feng had told him never to practice from a place of anger;

progress could only come from a calm, focused mind, and he wouldn't improve if he used negative emotions as fuel. But Xian

needed to vent, to act out what he'd wanted to do to his smirking half brother's face earlier.

He changed into a sparring robe and walked to the mù rén zhuāng , a wooden training post invented by a master from Shaolin. The post had four protruding slats at different heights and angles,

meant to represent the position of a person's arms and legs. The slats were springy, absorbing and returning the energy of

each blow to mimic an opponent's blocking movements.

The truth was, it wasn't just anger. Anger was straightforward—a wildfire blazing skyward, destroying everything in its path and dying out when all the wood had turned to ash. What burned inside Xian's chest was more complex, like a peat fire—spreading unseen beneath the surface and consuming fossils of dead things as it continued to smolder even under snow-covered ground.

Xian struck the training post with ferocity, pivoting seamlessly from one stance to another. But his concentration was fragmented,

like a sea of broken ice. He hit the wooden targets harder than he should have, even though he knew he would either injure

himself or tire himself out.

"Stop. Your form is way off."

Xian paused as Feng walked into the training hall.

"What are you doing here?" Xian wiped the sweat from his brow. "We're not supposed to have a practice session today."

"I've been searching all over for you," Feng replied. "Wang is unwell, and your father wants you to take his place at the

farewell meal for the monks from Goryeo. It starts in less than an hour, so you should clean up and get ready."

Xian frowned. Wang had looked perfectly fine earlier. That pompous ass would not want to miss such a prestigious event, especially

when he knew his place would go to Xian.

Feng must have caught his expression. "What's wrong?"

"I think the person eavesdropping on us last night outside my mother's chamber was Wang," Xian replied. "He confronted me

today, acting smug, and he seems to know more about Zhen than he should."

"Why would Zhen matter to him, though?" Feng asked. "We both know your brother isn't the type to get caught up in anything unless he can twist it to his own selfish purposes. Even if your father knew that you and Zhen were together in Changle, I doubt it would affect your chances of being chosen as his heir."

Gossip about Xian's dalliances with boys had probably reached his father's ears long before he traveled to Changle; Wang would've

made sure of that. Fulfilling one's royal duty while still cherishing one's true love—his father would understand that better

than anyone else. Zhen's gender wouldn't affect Xian's standing as a potential heir as much as the embarrassment of the way

Zhen had deceived him would.

"Wang is up to something, and I need you to find out what that is," Xian said. "I have to attend the meal—it would be a disgrace

to my father if neither of his most favored sons showed up. But Wang clearly wants me occupied tonight so he can do something

without interruption. Follow him. I'll come up with an excuse to leave early. Meet me at my chamber half an hour after the

meal begins."