I sat in the dark, stunned.
The only sounds were the wind threading through the trees, my own shaky breathing, and the echo of Yuling's kiss lingering on my lips like it had branded me.
Wait.
She kissed me.
She kissed me.
What… what was that?
My brain—already halfway to melted from fear—went into full emotional overdrive. Was that a farewell kiss? A friendship kiss? A more-than-friendship kiss?
Was Yuling… interested in me?
I mean—was that what the weird tension with Ming Yu had been about? Not about me being caught between them, but her… wanting me?
Had I missed the signs? Was there a handbook girl to girl love I was supposed to be reading?
I usually prided myself on being pretty decent at knowing when someone was flirting. I mean, unless they were the emotionally repressed, sword-wielding type, in which case, who could tell?
But Yuling? Yuling, who had patched my wounds, shared her secrets and laughs with me, and always sat a little too close?
Was that what all this was? Was it a crush? Something more? Something she didn't know how to name? Or was it just goodbye?
"Nope," I whispered to myself, shaking my head hard. "Not the time. Not the mental bandwidth. We are not spiraling into this right now."
I needed to hide.
I needed to focus. Not spiral. Not now.
First priority: don't die.
Second priority: don't get caught.
Third priority: unpack that kiss... later.
Where was I supposed to go? Find a cave? A hollow tree? A very large bush and a very small miracle?
I looked around, my eyes adjusting slowly. I could still see the outline of the forest—the jagged silhouettes of trees against the faint light from the burning village far behind me.
But then—snap.
A branch cracked sharply to my right.
My breath caught. The sound hadn't come from far away. Leaves shifted, something—someone—moved through them.
I bolted upright, muscles stiff and trembling, and started moving the opposite direction. Not running, not exactly. Just a jerky, half-coordinated stumbly escape with no direction, no plan, and absolutely no dignity.
Another sound ahead.
Something darker than the trees.
Moving.
Then came the break—branches snapping in earnest this time, like the forest was being torn apart. A shape. Then two. Then more.
Figures broke through the trees. Dark. Fast. Armed.
I froze.
One spotted me. "There's a girl!"
And just as my brain screamed run, a shout cut through the noise—
"Mei Lin!"
I blinked, stunned. That voice.
"Stay down!" it called again. Strong. Familiar.
Jian Yi.
Of course.
Because why wouldn't the Prince of Daqi show up in the middle of a burning plague village in the dead of night during a murder ambush?
Before I could react, another rustle sliced through the air—then more figures emerged. Not from Jian Yi's side—but from the shadows behind me.
Masks.
Swords drawn.
My stomach dropped.
The masked men closed in without hesitation, blades glinting, feet silent even over the crunch of forest debris. Jian Yi's soldiers shouted. And then—everything exploded into motion.
Steel clashed against steel. Arrows hissed through the trees. One of the masked attackers lunged at me, but a soldier intercepted him with a roar, driving him back.
Jian Yi pushed through the fighting, sword drawn, eyes scanning. "Where's Ming Yu?"
"I—he—he lured them away," I gasped, ducking behind a tree as another masked man tumbled past me, blood staining the leaves.
Jian Yi's expression darkened, but there was no time for questions.
More masked figures spilled out from the trees, attacking with terrifying coordination. Whoever sent them—this wasn't a random ambush. This was planned. Trained.
I backed up instinctively, my hand trembling as I clutched the edge of my robe like it might protect me.
"Stay close!" Jian Yi barked, stepping between me and the nearest attacker.
One of the masked cultivators lunged—and Jian Yi struck, his blade glowing with a sudden surge of golden-orange energy. A blast of fire erupted from the arc of his sword, sending the attacker flying backward. Flames crackled in the air as he moved, his spiritual power a storm of heat and precision.
The clash of swords echoed through the trees, sparks flying as fire met steel. The masked cultivators faltered, clearly not expecting resistance this fierce—or this magical.
Then, just as suddenly as it had started, it ended. The masked men broke away.
Without a word, they turned and ran, vanishing into the dark woods like they were never there to begin with.
Cowards.
Jian Yi didn't hesitate.
"After them!" he barked. His men took off immediately, thundering through the forest in pursuit.
One of the masked assassins burst from the underbrush, a blur of steel and black fabric. He moved like a ghost, slicing down two of Jian Yi's guards before they even had time to scream.
"No!" I gasped, stumbling back.
Jian Yi turned just in time—his blade flashing.
He took a deep cut across his side, blood blooming through his robes.
But he didn't stop.
With one fluid motion, he drove his sword straight through the attacker's chest.
The man dropped without a sound.
Jian Yi stood there for a breath, shoulders heaving, sword trembling in his grip. Then he looked at me, face pale.
"We need to get out of here," he said, his voice tight. "They might circle back. I feel that this wasn't their full force."
I rushed to his side, grabbing his arm. "You're bleeding."
"It's nothing," he muttered through clenched teeth.
It was not nothing.
But we started walking anyway—slow, cautious steps through the dark. I kept a hand on his arm, half-guiding, half-dragging, trying to ignore the warm, wet blood soaking through the sleeve.
The forest felt endless. Minutes passed, maybe longer, before Jian Yi suddenly staggered.
"Jian Yi!" I caught him just before he collapsed.
He leaned into me, his weight almost too much. His face was pale, lips pressed tight to stifle a groan.
"You're losing too much blood," I said, panic rising again.
"I'll… be fine…" he murmured, clearly not fine.
Oh no no no.
I gritted my teeth. "You are not dying on me, Jian Yi. Not tonight."
He tried to argue—of course he did—but he could barely keep his eyes open, let alone form full words. His legs buckled again, and this time I didn't catch him so much as I half-dragged, half-guided him toward the nearest cover I could find.
A ditch. Shallow, overgrown, half-hidden by wild bushes. It would have to do.
"Come on," I muttered, panting with effort as I pulled him down into the ditch. Twigs scratched at my arms, thorns snagged my robes, but I didn't stop until we were both hidden beneath the dense brush.
Jian Yi groaned, clutching his side. The blood wasn't just seeping now—it was pouring, dark and endless.
"Okay, okay, think," I told myself, heart racing. "You've helped treat plague patients. You can do this. He's not going to die."
I yanked open the little satchel still hanging from my waist—thank the heavens I hadn't lost it—and pulled out a half-crushed packet of clean gauze and a tiny flask of medicinal alcohol we'd been rationing like liquid gold.
"Sorry in advance," I warned, uncorking the bottle.
He didn't respond.
I pressed the gauze to the wound, pouring the alcohol over it.
Jian Yi jolted hard, breath hissing through his teeth. His body arched in pain before collapsing back into the dirt with a groan.
"Yeah, I know," I whispered, blinking hard to keep my vision clear. "It stings. Welcome to survival."
With trembling fingers, I fumbled through the satchel again and pulled out a spare strip of cloth—one of the clean bandages we'd prepared earlier for patients. I wrapped it tightly around his waist, trying to keep pressure on the bleeding. The bandage turned red quickly, but the flow began to slow. Not ideal. But not fatal. Yet.
I exhaled shakily and checked his pulse the way Master Chen had taught me. Still strong. Still fighting.
I sank down beside him in the ditch, brushing back a strand of damp hair from his face. The blood on my hands was drying, sticky. My own robes were a mess of ash, sweat, and panic.
"You're going to be okay," I whispered, more to myself than to him.
I looked up through the cracks in the bush cover and waited. Praying the forest would stay silent a little longer.
"This is… definitely not my most glorious moment," he muttered, his voice rough with pain. "I came to save you and, once again, that seems to not be working out."
Despite everything, I laughed. A real one. Tired and breathless and just a little hysterical. "Well… I'm still grateful you came. Bleeding and all."
He gave a crooked smile, but it faded quickly as his eyelids fluttered. The tension settled again between us like fog.
"What do we do now?" I whispered.
He winced, then adjusted slightly to sit up against the side of the ditch. "We wait. My men should circle back eventually—if they're not all dead."
My heart sank like a stone. I stared at him, stunned.
I hated how he said it. Flat. Almost too calm. Like he was bracing for the worst.
"And… how did you even get here?" I asked, needing something—anything—to ground us again.
Jian Yi looked over at me, eyes clouded but steady. "I never went back to the palace."
"What?"
"I told you I would," he said. "But instead, I stayed behind. We were trying to secure more supplies. I was still nearby when we got the report—an attack, fires, chaos. The moment I heard, I came running."
I stared at him, stunned. "You didn't go back?"
"No," he said simply. "I couldn't. Not knowing you were still out here."
Something squeezed painfully in my chest.
"And the others?" I asked quietly. "Where are Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji?"
He exhaled slowly. "Still stuck at the Daqi palace. They couldn't leave with the political mess that's been going on. You can't exactly cross into another kingdom's territory and wander around without the palace's permission—not even if you're Hanguang-jun and the Prince."
He paused, his voice tightening. "But the news should've reached them by now. If I know Wei Wuxian, he's already trying to break out of wherever they've locked him up."
Jian Yi leaned his head back against the side of the ditch, eyes half-lidded but still watching me through the dark.
"Don't worry," he murmured, a hint of his usual sarcasm returning. "Your lover will come save you."
I blinked. "My… what?"
Then it hit me.
Oh. Right.
Everyone still thought I was head-over-heels for Wei Wuxian.
Because of course. Why wouldn't they? He was charming, dramatic, always throwing himself into danger for others like a tragic hero with good hair. The perfect romantic lead.
Except the only person I was in danger of falling for these days was—
Ming Yu.
Jian Yi hesitated. Then, almost too casually, he asked, "Why him though?"
I turned to him slowly.
"What?"
He shrugged, wincing slightly. "I just… I mean, he's not a bad person. A little too..confident in himself..and annoying if you ask me. But why him? What do you see in him?"
Oh, this conversation.
"Well, that depends," I said carefully, narrowing my eyes. "Why do you hate him so much?"
He didn't answer right away.
"Seriously," I pressed. "What's actually going on between you two?"
Jian Yi sighed through his nose, the edge of irritation flickering across his face. "It's complicated."
"Try me," I said.
Another long pause. Jian Yi let out a breath, slow and tired.
"I didn't actually hate him," he said finally. "But gods, he's annoying. Always calm. Always right. Always standing exactly where I wished I was."
I didn't respond. I just watched him quietly, knowing something deeper was about to surface.
"We… we were like brothers once. The four of us."
I blinked. "Four?"
He nodded, gaze distant now. "Me, Wei Wuxian, Lan Wangji… and Liu Ming Yu. We grew up together. Visited each other's palaces, trained together, competed in everything from swordplay to stupid games."
I tried to picture it—these powerful men as teenage boys, laughing and sparring and pushing each other to be better.
Jian Yi paused again, his eyes flickering with something raw. "But I made a mistake."
I didn't ask. I let the silence hold, and eventually, he spoke again.
"Back then… Queen Wei—Wei Qing He—she was beloved. Everyone adored her. Even my mother."
That surprised me. He said it like it was a memory dipped in something sweet—and painful.
"My mother, Ming Yu's mother, Lan Wangji's… they all got pregnant around the same time. The palace said it was an omen of prosperity. They were close to each other."
He smiled faintly, then winced as the movement tugged at his side.
"It was a good time," he said. "The two kingdoms were open to each other. We traveled back and forth. Luyang and Daqi were allies."
Then his voice darkened. "Until the King of Luyang decided he wanted a new consort."
I felt my breath catch.
"Consort Li Hua," he said, the name landing like a stone between us. "She came from the Wang family. She is Minister Wang's sister. "
Yufei's aunt?? Oh..that is why. I see now.
"That's when everything fell apart."
Jian Yi's breath slowed, but his voice continued, low and heavy with memory.
"Everyone expected trouble when Consort Li Hua entered the palace," he said. "But it didn't come the way people thought."
"She was… kind," he admitted, as if it still surprised him. "Graceful. Sweet-tempered. Even-tempered. Everyone liked her—loved her, really. Even the servants spoke of her like she was a living blessing."
Really? That's Queen Li Hua? I don't get that vibe from her now at all.
"Queen Wei," he continued, eyes darkening with memory, "couldn't take it. She'd ruled unchallenged for years—respected, feared, untouchable. Then suddenly, this younger, softer woman appears… and wins everyone over with nothing more than a smile."
He let out a hollow breath.
"It got under her skin. Consort Li Hua didn't even try to compete—she just existed. And that made Queen Wei feel like she was being erased."
He paused, jaw tightening.
"So she made her life miserable. Subtle at first. Icy glances. Social snubs. Then came the whispers—rumors that Consort Li Hua was too close with foreign envoys, that she was scheming behind those sweet eyes."
He looked away, voice growing sharper. "The court was soon divided. Officials shifted their loyalties. Queen Wei started pulling strings, trying to isolate her. The palace turned cold, one rumor at a time."
Wow what a drama!
"The Wang family saw their chance—and they took it," Jian Yi said bitterly. "They accused Queen Wei of jealousy, of violating the inner court code, of threatening palace harmony. And just like that, the tide turned."
He let out a quiet, humorless laugh. "They've been trying to strip power from the Wei family ever since."
Then he looked at me, something sharp and knowing in his gaze. "Why do you think Wei Wuxian still uses his mother's surname?"
I blinked.
Right. Shouldn't he be Zhuang Wuxian?
Ugh. That sounds wrong on so many levels. Like, cosmically wrong.
"Because the Wei family was that powerful. They were the ones who put King Zhuang on the throne. Without them, there would be no crown on his head."
I sat in stunned silence, the pieces slowly falling into place.
Jian Yi shifted again, grimacing from the pain, but there was something else in his face now. Not just weariness.
Guilt.
"Consort Li Hua… she did something no one expected," he said softly. "She didn't just stay quiet and sweet. She started building relationships. With the queens, with the consorts, across all kingdoms."
His voice dropped to a whisper, like he was confessing to the night itself.
"Even the Daqi royal family loved her. She visited often, brought gifts, laughed with everyone. It was subtle, slow… but powerful. Queen Wei saw it as a threat," Jian Yi said. "She felt herself being pushed out. Replaced. Bit by bit."
He looked away.
"Then the rumors started. Queen Wei was accused of trying to poison Consort Li Hua. Of using dark cultivation to manipulate court officials."
My skin prickled. This wasn't just gossip. This was the kind of thing that changed dynasties.
"I… I was young," Jian Yi said, voice tight. "I didn't understand the weight of any of it. Consort Li Hua was always kind to me. She smiled at me like I mattered. So I—"
He stopped. His fingers clenched around a handful of grass.
"So I confronted Wei Wuxian."
I stared at him, stunned.
"You what?"
"We argued. We fought." He shook his head. "I was foolish, angry. I accused him of knowing what Queen Wei was planning. He said I didn't understand anything. He wasn't wrong."
His voice cracked.
"She tried to stop us. Queen Wei. She stepped in to keep us from tearing each other apart. But…"
The silence that followed was deafening.
"But both of our powers lashed out. She was caught between us. Thrown across the room. She hit the wall."
My breath caught.
"She was pregnant," Jian Yi whispered. "Her second child."
He swallowed hard, staring down at the blood on his hands like it had come back fresh.
"She lost the baby. And a week later, she died. Wei Wuxian hated me after that."
I didn't move.
"I tried to apologize," he went on. "So many times. But he wouldn't take it."
His hand flexed weakly against the grass. "And maybe… maybe I didn't deserve forgiveness. I didn't even understand what I had done until it was too late."
The way he said it—it wasn't bitter.
It was broken.
We sat in silence for a long time.
The kind of silence that wasn't awkward or forced—just heavy. Weighted by everything Jian Yi had just told me. Names. Histories. Buried wounds dressed as politics.
I didn't know what to say. I was still trying to process it all.
Jian Yi stared ahead, his face unreadable, but guilt clung to him like ash. It was in the way his shoulders sagged, in the way his fingers fidgeted with the hem of his sleeve.
Finally, I spoke—softly.
"…Thank you. For telling me all that."
His eyes shifted to me, surprised, but he said nothing.
"It must've been hard. For both of you," I added. "Maybe… one day, you and Wei Wuxian can be friends again."
A ghost of a smile tugged at his mouth.
"Maybe in the next life."
I chuckled—quiet, a little sad. "That's dramatic even by my standards."
Just then, the quiet was broken by the rustle of movement through the trees—low voices, boots over damp leaves.
We turned as a group of soldiers emerged from the shadows.
His men.
They were alive.
I let out a breath I didn't realize I'd been holding.
They bowed quickly to Jian Yi, a few of them carrying prisoners—masked men, hands bound, bloodied but breathing.
We returned to Jian Yi's makeshift camp just as the sky began to pale with the first hint of dawn.
Still, my heart wouldn't stop pacing inside my chest.
Ming Yu.
Yuling.
They were still out there.
I didn't want to ask. I didn't want to sound desperate. But the ache in my chest betrayed me.
"…Can you send someone to search?" I asked finally, voice barely above a whisper. "Ming Yu and Yuling—if they're still out there…"
Jian Yi glanced at me.
I kept my face as neutral as possible, but I knew my eyes were giving me away. The worry. The fear. The silent prayer that neither of them had become another name lost in the smoke.
He nodded once. "I'll send scouts to find them."
He turned and gave the order. Within moments, two riders disappeared into the forest with sharp eyes and quiet hooves.
Then Jian Yi stood, wincing slightly, and took something from a nearby pack.
A signal flare.
He lit it.
With a loud pop, a streak of red fire shot up into the brightening sky and bloomed above the treetops like a blossom of blood and hope.
He looked at me and said, "If Ming Yu sees that—and he's alive—he'll come."
I stared up at the flare until it faded into smoke, willing it to carry everything I couldn't say.
Please come back.
Both of you.