A few hours later, morning light brightened Yunshan Palace. Golden rays filtered through the thinning veil of mist, scattering across rooftops and corridors like fragments of burning silk.
Princess Shenya's death stirred considerable unrest within the palace.
The entire palace was draped in white flags, curtains, banners, mournful and still. Funeral rites were held in silence.
Frightening rumors spread among the young maids, tales of the princess dragging Lushen's blood-soaked body into her grave, alive.
But after she dragged him out of the court that day, no one had clearly seen where they had gone. So it remained a mystery.
Under Lord Rumeng's command, the entire family of Lord Hanxu was arrested for interrogation. Not even Hanxu's four-year-old daughter was spared.
That morning, Eunuch Zhu accompanied the Emperor to Yulan Peak.
Yulan Peak was one of the three thousand peaks of Cloud Mountain, and among the thirteen private peaks belonging to the emperor's domain.
It was named for the ancient magnolia tree that stood at the cliff's edge, overlooking leagues of Yunshan City far below.
On misty mornings, the view was breathtaking, the cold fragrance of magnolia drifting through the air like a dream. And the blurry sight of parallel peaks rising like silent dragons.
Mingxuan often came here alone. He would sit beneath the tree to play the qin or stand at the cliff's edge, hands behind his back, watching the world in silence.
Sometimes Xiangge accompanied him.
When Xiangge was still a baby, Mingxuan would bring him here to play.
In those quiet moments, he remembered.
He remembered the soft weight of the toddler clinging to his robes, laughter spilling from tender lips.
He remembered Xiangge, still too small to walk, yet already stubborn, babbling nonsense as he crawled after falling magnolia petals on unsteady hands and knees, drooling into the lemon grass.
The rain had fallen lightly then, soft as silk. The petals had stuck to Xiangge's hair, and Mingxuan had laughed, brushing them away with fingers he never thought would one day hold a sword over that same child's heart.
Now, the magnolia tree still bloomed.
He still came.
But the child was gone.
"Zhu," Mingxuan's voice was low. "Where is he?"
Eunuch Zhu understood instantly.
"Junshang, Lord Xuanji has disappeared again. The shadow guards confirmed this."
Mingxuan said nothing. The comings and goings of that person were as unpredictable as spring rain.
Sometimes he vanished into crowds, disguised as a commoner; other times, he was gone for weeks seeking rare herbs.
He didn't like servants or attendants following him; even the once-grand Yumeng Palace was more deserted than Feilong Palace.
The only one permitted free passage was Rumeng, his closest and most trusted companion.
So when Eunuch Zhu spoke of the prince's disappearance, Mingxuan's expression remained composed.
He rubbed his chilled hands together. "Zhen has an appointment with Rumeng at the study, so–"
The words died in his throat.
Pain erupted deep in his lower abdomen, hot and vicious, like claws ripping through flesh from the inside. His breath hitched. The world tilted.
He staggered, one hand flying to his stomach. His palm pressed hard against the fabric, as if pressure alone could hold his body together.
It couldn't.
His knees slightly buckled.
The ground rushed toward him. He caught himself against the magnolia trunk, bark rough beneath his palm, fingers digging in. His other hand clenched into a fist against his abdomen.
Black blood welled in his mouth, thick and bitter. He swallowed it down, jaw tight, teeth grinding. Not here. Not in front of...
"Junshang!" Eunuch Zhu was horrified.
Mingxuan forced his spine straight through sheer will. His vision swam, mist and tree branches blurring into white and brown smears.
He raised one trembling hand.
"Leave."
"Jun... Junshang–!"
"Go."
The word came out quieter than he intended, but the steel beneath it held.
Eunuch Zhu's face was pale. He bowed low, hands shaking, and backed away. His footsteps faded into the mist, reluctantly.
Silence swallowed the peak.
Mingxuan's hand slipped from the tree. He stumbled forward two steps, then stopped. His legs wouldn't carry him further.
The agony returned, fiercer, like a wave crashing through him. He clutched his abdomen, fingers digging into flesh through layers of silk.
Dark rivulets of blood traced from the corners of his lips, thick and inky, dripping onto the pale stone beneath him.
His breath came shallow, ragged.
This was it, then. Alone beneath the magnolia tree. Perhaps that was fitting.
He closed his eyes.
Just as he feared collapse, a gentle, steady warmth pressed against his back.
Mingxuan's eyes snapped open. His breath caught, not from pain but from shock.
Arms slid around his waist, crossing over his stomach where his own hand still pressed. The touch was firm, steadying, and achingly familiar.
A chest molded against his back. Firm. Rising and falling with shallow breaths that ghosted across the back of his neck.
The scent of magnolia wrapped around him, no longer from the tree but from the person holding him. Sweet and metallic, fresh and fading, like blossoms crushed underfoot.
Mingxuan's body locked rigid. Every muscle tensed.
He knew this touch. This shape. This scent.
"Why are you here?" His voice came out colder than he intended, like a reflex. Like a shield.
A soft, bitter laugh answered him, too close to his ear. "If you truly wished me gone, why send others to spy on me?"
The voice was low and mocking, also hoarse. "Rumeng is careless. He forgets his god-damned radish. Find someone more capable next time."
Mingxuan did not want to look back to know. It was Xiangge.
The arms around his waist tightened, pulling him more firmly against that slender frame. Mingxuan felt the shudder that ran through the body behind him, a tremor that had nothing to do with cold.
"You may leave," Mingxuan said quietly, staring ahead at nothing. "I'm fine."
The arms didn't release. Instead, they shifted. One hand splayed wider across his abdomen, fingers pressing gently through the bloodstained silk. The other rose slowly.
Slender fingers found the side of his neck, cool against fevered skin. They settled over his pulse point carefully. Spiritual energy flooded into him.
It flowed through his meridians like water through cracked earth, seeking the poison's path, tracing the damage.
Mingxuan's eyes closed against his will. The sensation was overwhelming, not painful, but ambiguous in a way that made his chest tighten.
The massage began, careful, rhythmic, tender, kneading the inflamed flesh. Each touch sent another pulse of spiritual energy deeper, wrapping around the knots of poison, dulling their sting.
He shouldn't allow this. He should pull away. Stand. Leave.
But he couldn't move.
Behind him, Xiangge's breathing was unsteady.
The pain began to recede. Slowly, grudgingly, the fire in his abdomen cooled to embers. The dizziness cleared at the edges. His vision sharpened.
When Mingxuan's breathing finally steadied, when his body no longer trembled against the pain, Xiangge's hands stilled.
Then they withdrew.
The cold rushed in immediately as Mingxuan's back felt exposed, bereft of the warmth that had been holding him together.
When Mingxuan tried to turn, Xiangge gripped his shoulders firmly from behind.
"No." His voice was hoarse and raw. "Don't."
Mingxuan's jaw tightened. He faced forward again, staring at the gnarled roots of the magnolia tree.
The wind rustled through branches. There was a distant cry of a luan bird.
After a pause, Mingxuan tilted his head slightly to the side, eyes lowered.
"Anything more?" His voice was frosty. "Zhen has other duties so–"
Something small and hard pressed against his lips.
His words died.
Two fingers rested there, trembling. Holding a pill between them.
He could feel Xiangge's pulse through those fingertips, racing, frantic. The touch was feather-light, barely there, yet it seared.
His lips parted on instinct.
The bitter pill slipped onto his tongue.
But the fingers lingered.
Just for a moment.
Soft skin brushed his lower lip as they withdrew. The touch was accidental. Unintended.
Mingxuan swallowed the pill without thought. The bitterness spread across his tongue, mixing with the taste of blood in his mouth.
Behind him, Xiangge made a sound. Barely audible. A sharp inhale, quickly suppressed.
But Mingxuan said nothing. It was easier to feign coldness than confront the truth burning between them.
The silence returned, heavier now.
Then, Xiangge squeezed Mingxuan's shoulders once, whispering close to his ear, his voice rough and urgent.
"Come to my room tonight."
Before Mingxuan could respond, the presence behind him vanished.
No sound of footsteps. No rustle of robes. Just... gone.
Mingxuan's hand dropped. He stared at the pale stone where drops of his blood still gleamed, wet and dark.
A magnolia petal drifted down from above, spinning slowly in the mountain breeze. It landed beside the blood, white against black, pristine against ruin.
His eyes slid shut.
"Tonight," he murmured. The words hung heavy in the air, then vanished like mist. He didn't know if it was a promise or a surrender.
The warmth of those hands still lingered on his abdomen. His collar still carried that person's scent.
But the person himself had gone.
Mingxuan did not call after him.
He exhaled slowly. His fingers brushed to his lips, tasting the faint bitterness of the pill.
Bitter on the tongue.
But it was the taste of him, fleeting, unforgettable.
***
The vast imperial study was still and dimly lit, the scent of sandalwood lingering in the air. Rows of memorials towered upon the Emperor's broad jade desk, casting long shadows under the golden lamplight.
Outside the open window screens, cicadas cried in the dusk, their voices distant and shrill.
The door opened and slid shut quietly. Mingxuan looked up from his documents. "You came."
Rumeng bowed. "Rumeng is at Junshang's service."
"Drop the courtesy," Mingxuan said.
Rumeng raised his head and stared at Mingxuan for a moment, almost rudely, before breaking into a grin. "Alright then. Imperial Brother. Big Brother..."
"Xie Linkong," Mingxuan said with warning. "Discipline."
Unfazed, Rumeng sauntered over and sat directly on the low desk, heedless of propriety. He even leaned forward, face far too close, eyes gleaming with mischief. "Who bit your lip?"
Mingxuan's gaze remained on the memorial in his hand, but a pure white flame ignited in his palm with a quiet hiss. "What did you just say?" he asked calmly.
Rumeng wisely slid off the desk and took a step back. "This subject came to report the findings on Lushen Hanxu."
"Then report."
"I've completed the investigation," Rumeng said, shifting his tone. "And I found this at Hanxu's residence." He stretched out a white jade token with a red tassel.
Mingxuan looked at the crescent moon carved on it. "Blood Moon Sect of Nuanxi."
Rumeng nodded. "I never expected them to have direct influence in the court. They even dare to plot with the officials."
Mingxuan's face was expressionless under the lamp light.
Rumeng gave a strained smile. "The last time they attacked Xuan Huang, you flattened the entire mountain range of Nuanxi to the ground. And now they've chosen the safe way I suppose."
He rubbed his nose, lowering his voice. "It cannot be that Hanxu started colluding with Nuanxi yesterday. For example, that night... the thing that happened between you and Xiangge, no one knew about it. And yet, Hanxu seemed to know. Else why would he be so confident in forcing Xiangge to test the moonstones right in front of you?" He sighed. "That was because he knew you'd be helpless too, and won't be able to speak for him."
His voice tightened. "Under imperial law, even nobles can't escape a punishment. Wasn't it obvious they were trying to get hold of Xiangge? It was just, Hanxu never expected you to summon Shenya."
Mingxuan's expression was gloomy.
"Anyway," Rumeng continued, "if what Shenya said was true, then it's obvious what they were searching inside Xiangge's residence. No matter what you do, they will still find a way to hunt for Xiangge."
"Then let them try." Mingxuan picked up the memorial. His voice was cold.
"... ..." Rumeng did not know whether to laugh or cry. "The demons of Nuanxi don't know that the thing they are dying to get is not with Xiangge but you. So Xiangge, as the original owner, will naturally be hunted. You'll protect him for now. If he tries to run, you'll bind him with chains. But can you protect him for ever?"
"Nothing will happen to him."
"... ..."
Rumeng sighed softly. "Big brother, how long do you intend to keep hiding the truth from Xiangge?"
Mingxuan continued to flip through the memorials. "I'll tell him everything, his bloodline, his parents' fate, and why he's been hunted. But only when he's ready. Until then, leave it alone."
Rumeng had long known nothing can move this block of ice mountain. Even if you tried to kick it, you'd break your leg.
Silence stretched between them for a moment before Rumeng spoke again. "Is Yu Zhanfeng truly that dangerous?"
Yu Zhanfeng was the Lord of the Blood Moon Sect.
Mingxuan tilted his head slightly. "He's but a snake who's wasted a thousand years in laze. The venom isn't his. It's from the hand that feeds him." His voice turned cold. "You know why he wants Xiangge."
A shadow flickered through Rumeng's eyes. "You have a theory about who he is?"
"It." Mingxuan gave him a long, flat look. "Xi Chenming is back."
A chill ran down Rumeng's spine.
Which cultivator in the known world had not heard the name? Even immortals feared him. Xi Chenming, the Seven Yin Soul Demonic Saint.
There was no whereabout on where exactly he existed. He appeared like mist, and disappeared leaving centuries worth calamities.
With times, people avoided his name like a plague, in fear and loath, and started calling him 'it'.
Twelve years ago, Xi Chenming attacked Xuan Huang. When the lives of a million ordinary people were at stake, Mingxuan fought him alone and protected them.
Not only that, he flattened the mountains of Nuanxi and razed the Blood Moon Sect to the ground as a warning.
Xuan Huang people still venerated Mingxuan for that. They worshipped him like a deity.
But one unspoken truth was unknown. The reason Mingxuan fought Xi Chenming was actually because of Xiangge, who, back then, was just a boy of seven.
Rumeng's eyes dimmed. "So it's finally happening..." He sighed. "Still no news from Lord Wuji?"
"No."
Now that Xi Chenming was back, Rumeng knew the days of peace would not last long. There weren't many who could stand against Xi Chenming's calamity.
He stared at his elder brother in a new light. But he was jealous. "You're so protective of Xiangge." He muttered under his breath. "What about me? Your real brother? I was thrown away by our mother even before I could open my eyes. And yet you did nothing!"
The sudden shift caught Mingxuan off-guard.
Rumeng struck the iron while it was hot.
"If it hadn't been for your loyal eunuch Zhuying, who picked me out of a pile of corpses and raised me without knowing who I was, I would've died nameless in the gutters!" Rumeng's mouth twisted. "Even then, few years later, you stole me away from Zhu, locked me in the basement with nothing but sword manuals and dusty scrolls!"
"You survived," Mingxuan replied, brows raised.
"Barely!" Rumeng groaned. "When you let me out, my adoptive father that old Zhu didn't even recognize me. You didn't even let him acknowledge me. You just threw me to that old bore, Minister Ru Shiwen to raise me up!"
Mingxuan looked at him darkly. "I should've left you there."
Rumeng's grin returned like sunlight through clouds. "This subject was only joking." He unceremoniously poured himself tea from the teapot to the Emperor's cup and sipped it.
"Though we are from different bloodlines, Xiangge is my brother too," he muttered. "Don't forget why I refused my title ten years ago."
"That was yourself decision."
Rumeng smirked. "But elder brother was kind. You didn't reveal my true identity to the court. Thanks to that, I could devote myself entirely to the Xuan Jia Camp. But you also know the reason why I chose that path."
Mingxuan's gaze sharpened. "Are you threatening me?"
Rumeng held the Emperor's stare for a moment before grinning again. "This subject wouldn't dare. Just reminding Junshang."
Mingxuan's eyes narrowed further. "Reminder noted. Now get out if you value your life."
Rumeng clasped his hands together solemnly, then looked up with a wink. "This subject thanks Junshang for the honor of being told to get lost!"
Mingxuan's lips twitched.
Just as Rumeng was about to leave, he stopped and turned back again.
"Shenya. Five months ago, she was bitten by a snake, wasn't she?" he asked softly. "The poison had already reached her heart by the time you found her dying beneath a tree."
Mingxuan silently shifted the memorials before him.
"You knew she wouldn't survive, and still, you saved her." Rumeng's voice lowered. "You suppressed the poison, prolonged her life using your own cultivation. All because you knew she loved Xiangge. You think I wouldn't notice?"
"Her last wish was to spend even a single day more with him." Mingxuan said it quietly.
"And that's the problem." Rumeng smiled, strained. "You were never the sentimental type. You married her because keeping her close was the only way to keep her alive. Why won't you just tell Xiangge the truth?"
"There's no need."
"So you'd rather let him hate you than burden him with guilt over her."
Mingxuan's fingers curled slightly at the edge of the desk. "If you're done, leave."
Rumeng sighed. "Screw you."