(From A Lie's Perspective)
I am A Lie, the only son of the General's Manor. From the moment I could remember, I knew my mission was to protect one person—Gu Lian, crown prince of Da Sheng, the future sovereign.
There was a line between us: ruler and subject. My father warned me the first time I entered the palace: "A Lie, your life belongs to His Majesty. Your honor and duty are to protect the Crown Prince."
I didn't understand then—until I met Gu Lian.
He stood in the spring light of the Eastern Palace, brighter than any glazed tile or magnolia bloom I'd ever seen. He reached out his hand and smiled: "So you're A Lie? From now on, we're friends."
In that moment, I forgot my father's warning. I only wanted to truly be his "friend."
Then Ai Miao arrived.
Ai Miao was nothing like me. Quiet, brilliant, like a deep, bottomless well. Gu Lian was quickly drawn to him. The classics and strategies that gave me headaches—Ai Miao unraveled them with ease. I watched Gu Lian grow more reliant on him. It stung, but I had to admit: with Ai Miao around, Gu Lian was lighter, more like the wise ruler he was meant to become.
The three of us became inseparable study companions. I thought it would always be this way—until the heterochromatic hostage arrived.
At first, I didn't pay Murong Che any mind. A hostage from a defeated enemy state, considered inauspicious—thin, silent, like a shadow in the corner. Until I noticed the way Ai Miao looked at him.
It wasn't the gaze of a friend. Nor of a subject toward his prince. It was the fervor of a craftsman discovering a rare gem, the focus of a strategist facing a brilliant endgame.
I began to feel uneasy. Gu Lian sensed it too. He grew restless, like a beast whose territory had been invaded— always finding excuses to "accidentally" witness Ai Miao tutoring Murong Che.
I accompanied him, hiding behind the moon gate, watching that hostage slowly shed his rough edges under Ai Miao's cold sculpting, revealing a quiet brilliance.
I heard Ai Miao speak with a patience I'd never heard before— or perhaps a different kind of severity. I saw Murong Che gaze at him with a burning mix of reverence, dependence, and despair.
I felt wronged on Gu Lian's behalf. Had the Crown Prince ever been taught like that? Ai Miao served him, advised him—but never with that kind of near-devotional intensity.
During the spring hunt, Ai Miao shielded Murong Che from a wild boar's tusks. I saw it with my own eyes—he lunged without hesitation, his arm torn open. Gu Lian reined in his horse, pale as death. I knew something inside him had been wrenched, just like inside me.
In that moment, a treasonous thought crossed my mind: If it had been Gu Lian in danger, would Ai Miao have leapt so readily?
Perhaps he would. But how much of that "without hesitation" was duty—and how much was… something else? I didn't know. I only knew that when Ai Miao blocked that strike, his eyes held a pure, unflinching resolve.
Later, I overheard Gu Lian and Ai Miao arguing in the sleeping quarters. I stood outside, listening to the Crown Prince's suppressed anger and hurt, and then Ai Miao's thunderous reply: "Is Your Highness… jealous?"
I nearly burst in. How could my prince be questioned like that?
But I didn't. Because, painfully, I realized—Ai Miao was right. Gu Lian was jealous. And I… didn't even have the right to be.
My identity, my duty, the beliefs instilled in me since childhood— they were chains, binding me to the role of guardian. I could bleed for him, die for him— but I could never enter the game of his heart like Ai Miao, nor stir his emotions like Murong Che.
That night, Gu Lian locked himself in the study. I stood outside, as I had on countless nights, guarding his peace. The moon stretched our shadows long across the floor, but always separated by a door I could not open—and dared not.
I knew something had changed. The board was set. The players had made their moves. My prince was no longer the boy who only needed our company. He had to learn to walk forward in a far more complex world.
And I— I would remain behind him, his most loyal shield and sword. Watching him lean on Ai Miao, envy Murong Che, step by step toward the lonely throne that awaits him.
This silent protection— is all I, A Lie, can offer. And all the love I have to give.