Chapter 40

XIAN

Zhen's funeral was held on the West Lake at the break of dawn the next day. Burials were far more common than cremations,

but the lake was where Zhen once lived as a snake, where he had become a snake spirit. Where he and Xian had met for the first

time. It seemed fitting for him to be laid to rest on its waters.

The air was clear and crystalline, the sky rain-washed from a thunderstorm the night before. Xian had ordered that the funeral

be private, attended by only the few who knew Zhen. A wide perimeter around the lake had been cordoned off, with palace guards

keeping onlookers at a respectful distance.

Back in the coffin home, before they'd closed the birch casket, Xian had put Zhen's folded white fan in his left hand, pointing downward. Then he'd placed his mother's cracked jade amulet in Zhen's right palm. The amulet had protected Zhen in life; although it was broken, Xian hoped it would continue to do so for the next phase of his journey... wherever that might be.

Xian stood by the water's edge as the bier was set afloat. A banner on a pole attached to the bier caught in the wind. It

read: Zhen, Beloved Consort of Crown Prince Xian .

Xian swallowed past the lump in his throat and stared straight ahead. When the bier neared Ruangong Islet—the smallest of

the three islands in the middle of the lake where Zhen, as a snake, had rescued Xian from drowning—Xian nodded at a waiting

archer. The archer fired a lit arrow, which found its mark and set the casket ablaze.

Behind him stood Qing and Feng. The three of them remained quiet as smoke from the burning bier billowed, casting a gray pall

that reflected on the lake like clouds of underwater algae blooms. Flames consumed the casket and the bier, finally extinguishing

when the burned-out wood sank beneath the surface. The banner with Zhen's name detached from the pole and settled on the lake,

facing the dawn sky.

Qing spoke.

"He once told me that the stronger the emotion, the stronger our spirit powers." She looked at Xian, her face wet with tears.

"What made him able to resurrect your mother... was his love for you."

But it had also killed him. Xian would have to carry that knowledge for the rest of his life.

"Are you going to continue the journey to Mount Emei, like he wanted you to?" he asked Qing.

She nodded. "The healing milfoil blooms only in the summer, so I have to get going. Or I'll have to wait another year."

"You can leave immediately, if you want," Xian told her. "Feng will make the arrangements. He'll also personally escort you

there and back."

Qing couldn't hide her surprise. "But he's your bodyguard."

"And you're Zhen's sister." Xian turned to Feng. "You made a promise to him. Go with her and keep her safe. Appoint another

bodyguard in your stead until you return."

Feng hesitated, unspoken concern in his eyes.

Xian gave him a nod. He would be fine. He had to be. He was the crown prince now.

A prince did not cry. A prince did not show weakness. A prince should not feel heartbroken.

After Feng and Qing left, Xian stood alone by the lake. Everything was tranquil again. Peaceful. White reed catkins swayed

in the breeze. Lotuses floated on the water, waving their pink flowers high on stalks. The scorched tower of Leifeng Pagoda

stood on the opposite shore, a forlorn, burned-out candle held upright by a base of blackened wax.

Is Zhen the one who will save my mother's life? he had asked at the temple.

Zhen had done that... at the cost of his own.

For all the guilt Xian had carried, Zhen had borne even more—which had led him to that final heartbreaking choice.

If Xian had known what the other boy was planning, would he have stopped Zhen? Would he have chosen the loss of a boy he had loved for less than a season to save the mother he had loved his entire life?

Xian slipped his hand into his sleeve and took out the snake-shaped charm that Zhen had transmuted. The last thing Zhen had

given him. All he had left of him.

A choked sound escaped Xian's throat. His lower lip trembled, and he bit down so hard that he tasted blood. His fingers closed

around the charm. The pressure built behind his eyes, and he tried to force it back, to hold himself together—but he couldn't

any longer.

Something fissured inside him, a crack splitting wide open. Tears burst free, flooding out of him. He crumpled to his knees

by the water's edge, sobs breaking in heaving, fractured gasps. He felt as if his lungs had been punctured and would never

hold air the same way, and he wasn't sure he could learn how to breathe again.

When his tears finally subsided, he opened his palm.

Instead of a white jade charm, all that remained was a gray pebble.