Flickering orange light danced across iron braziers, casting sharp shadows on the stone walls. Within a small, open air courtyard, countless wooden cells were constructed, the haggard faces of unfortunate souls beyond the thick bars. Liu Qingyuan sat cross legged in the rough straw, his arms resting on his lap, and his eyes closed. Half his face was in darkness, his breathing light enough that he appeared to be asleep.
Faint footsteps sounded, nearly impossible to detect amidst the low chatter of the guards and the crackling of fire. Liu Qingyuan didn't move, though a small movement of his hand gave him away. After all, he'd grown up hearing the sound of those footsteps. It was only when his face was completely bathed in shadow did he slowly open his eyes. Liu Qingyuan's gaze fell upon a pair of leather boots, the sheen worn to nearly nothing. From his peripheral vision, the end of a calf-length robe swayed gently. Liu Qingyuan pursed his lips, unwilling to look up.
"What? Unwilling to greet this master?" A drawling tone sounded above his head and Liu Qingyuan flinched slightly. There was no difference in his voice from before; as if everything that had happened between them was nothing more than a fleeting illusion. As if Liu Qingyuan's defiance had never happened, as if his master had never pushed him down that cliff. In retrospect, this seemed even scarier than opposing him. It was like all his efforts had merely punched cotton.
There was a slight rustling of cloth and a small creak from the wood as Mo Wu leaned against the bars. In the dark, his eyes almost seemed to glow, a strange and twisted obsessiveness deep within his gaze. "Liu Qingyuan, you should learn from your shimei. How obedient she is...," He sneered, "But it's no worry. This master was too lenient before. It'll be over soon and you'll come back with me to Gongzhuan." I don't believe a child like you could defy me, not when you owe me so much.
Liu Qingyuan looked up, his gaze immediately meeting Mo Wu's. A slight chill went down his spine. Such a forgiving and gentle expression contrasted horribly with the strange gleam in his eyes. It looked positively demonic. Liu Qingyuan pursed his lips, not saying a word and Mo Wu silently stared. Finally, Liu Qingyuan couldn't help but ask,
"Master?" Mo Wu raised an eyebrow, his gaze fully focusing on Liu Qingyuan's face.
"Hm?"
"You...," Liu Qingyuan saw the glimmer of triumph in Mo Wu's eyes and dread filled his stomach, an ominous premonition rising in his thoughts. "What did you do?" He asked urgently.
Mo Wu scoffed almost disbelievingly, the good mood beginning to fade from his face. "You dare speak so rudely to your master like that? Brat!" Liu Qingyuan lept up from his seated position, approaching his master at the bars.
"...Don't go too far." Too fast to see, Mo Wu reached out, grasping Liu Qingyuan's collar and dragging him forward with enough force that he slammed painfully into the bars. An animal smile appeared on his face as he squeezed his disciple against the wood.
"Unfilial brat!" Every inch of his face was filled with uncontrollable rage. "I shouldn't have let you come to Qiangda!" All those years of effort were on the verge of being wasted. Mo Wu released Liu Qingyuan, shoving him away as if he were something disgusting. But before he could retract his hand, Liu Qingyuan reached out, pulling him close again. A solemn and gloomy look surfaced in his eyes, successfully covering the uneasiness in his heart.
"Yes, this disciple is unfilial. I haven't repaid my debt to you, but," Liu Qingyuan grit his teeth, ignoring the pain in his arm as the two men grappled for control. "Master, I'm no longer a little boy. I respect your goals, but only if I can know why." He paused, raising his gaze. "Naturally, those with different thoughts are fated for different paths." His heart beat heavily as he watched a subtle myriad of emotions flash over Mo Wu's face; a little disbelief, a little anger, as if he'd sunk so far into his version of Liu Qingyuan that his words had no effect. Slowly, those emotions faded as a chilling smile crept over his face, madness climbing once more over his face.
"Don't think you can escape from me, Liu Qingyuan! Those who betray me never have a good ending!"
Liu Qingyuan watched him, a finger twitching slightly at the crushing grip on his arm. "Go back, master. It seems our three views don't align." He felt suddenly tired, only just realizing how steadfast his master's goals were. Seeing that neither would budge, Mo Wu pulled him in a fluid motion, slamming his disciple face first into the bars. Liu Qingyuan's face turned ashen with pain, sweat beading at his temples. Mo Wu kicked him away, not even looking back as Liu Qingyuan's sorry figure tumbled to the straw.
After a while, Liu Qingyuan got up, clutching his shoulder. His face was pale. As if possessed, he rushed up to the cell door, repeatedly kicking it, uncaring even as the lock rattled loudly and became more and more deformed with each hit. The prisoners in the cells around him woke up one by one, pressing their curious faces to the bars to watch the commotion. Was he crazy?
Before long, a guard took notice and quickly rushed over, drawing his sword from his belt. His expression was quite ugly. "Hey! What are you doing? You dare make such a racket? Quiet down!" This guard's luck was quite bad. He reached over to hack at Liu Qingyuan just as the lock broke. The door slammed onto him, knocking him silly. Liu Qingyuan kicked away the sword he'd feebly raised in an attempt to stop him, ignored the pain in his leg and simply strode over him to his new-found freedom.
"Hey!"
"Where are you going!"
"Stop!"
"Stop him! Don't let him escape!"
Noticing the state of their companion, the remainder of the guards within the little courtyard drew their swords and rushed forward. Liu Qingyuan blocked the first sword intended for his face and spun, kicking away another aimed at his stomach. In a whorl of black fabric, he fought with the group of guards, ruthlessly ploughing through them even as blades cut his clothes and caused blood to well up from under his skin. When the last guard was kicked down with a pitiful cry, Liu Qingyuan ignored the pain on his body and directly climbed up on top of a temporary cell. From there, he jumped down the wall in a smooth motion. Not a second later, the doors of the little courtyard burst open and a squad of reinforcements tumbled in.
"Quick!" Their captain shouted. "Catch the person who escaped!" However, even looking around, he was only able to see the overturned tables, the smashed wine pots and the miserable states of his colleagues.
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Jiang Zhilan vaguely heard a loud thud, his hands shaking as dizziness coursed through him. Pain spread from the hole in his leg and he felt like his life was slipping away along with the blood leaking from the wound. Faintly registering that someone else was fighting with the assassin, Jiang Zhilan raised his head, coughing as he reached up and grabbed the edge of his bed and dragged himself further from the fight. A fine powder coated the air, a dazed glance at the floor telling him that the hefty incense burner by the window had been knocked over.
Jiang Zhilan leaned against his bed, reaching over to tear apart the bed curtains and wrap the fabric around his leg. He deliberately tightened the knot to stop the bleeding, but a strangled groan still climbed from his throat. "Ugh..."
On the other side, Liu Qingyuan blocked Yan Li's swipe. He grabbed the hairpin that was bearing down on him, his knuckles turning white with the strain. Her face was covered with a mask, but Liu Qingyuan could still see the brief surprise that flashed across her gaze before it turned into contempt. "Shixiong, it's you."
"Yan Li shimei," Liu Qingyuan said faintly. "Let go. This isn't your fight." They both knew he hadn't said that out of concern for her well-being. He was just ruthlessly monopolizing this mission. Yan Li sneered as she attempted to stab him again.
"Once again, men are fickle! Only women can hold fast to their values and complete their goals to the end! You're unfilial and ungrateful to master!" Yan Li, a girl of little words, had finally lost her temper in lue of compromise to her loyalties. "I hope master succeeds in his wish and sends you to hell!" In a burst of strength, she broke through Liu Qingyuan's defense and buried the tip of the hairpin deep in his collarbone. In retaliation, she suffered a heavy blow, coughing out a mouthful of scarlet blood. She didn't waste any more words, turning and hopping out of the window before Liu Qingyuan could collect himself.
Panting, Liu Qingyuan gripped the hairpin in his flesh, a strange heat radiating from the wound. Without a second thought, he pulled it out, a spray of blood accompanying his actions.
"Qing...Qingyuan?" Liu Qingyuan turned his head, catching Jiang Zhilan's dazed gaze. His face was also pale from blood loss, the hand clutching the bed curtains trembling slightly despite the effort to remain composed. Liu Qingyuan stepped towards him, suddenly collapsing into a heap at his feet. "You! Are you alright?!"
Liu Qingyuan didn't speak, merely burying his face in Jiang Zhilan's shoulder. He breathed deeply, fingers digging almost painfully into Jiang Zhilan's flesh. "Let me stay, just for a while. Your wound...does it hurt?"
"...doesn't hurt," Jiang Zhilan squeezed the words from between gritted teeth, his hand trembling as he attempted to clumsily tug Liu Qingyuan closer. The two leaned on each other, watching the dust motes swirl down and settle on various surfaces of the destroyed room.
"Why...why are you so hot?"
"...huh?" Jiang Zhilan's hand slipped down a little, his head feeling stuffed with cotton. His back...his back felt like it was bruning. Accurately sensing his changes, Liu Qingyuan quickly pulled him forward, pulling open the collar of his robes. The phoenix tattoo was emitting a faint, ominous light.
"Did she stab you with the hairpin?" Liu Qingyuan clutched his face, anxiety rising in his tone. He shook the king slightly, trying to make him open those drooping eyelids. "Jaing Zhilan!"
Jiang Zhilan startled a little at his full name, sloppily patting Liu Qingyuan. "I...I won't die...I'll...be okay..." He couldn't hold on anymore, slumping into Liu Qingyuan's arms as his body forcibly shut down. Liu Qingyuan quickly checked his breath and pulse, only marginally relaxing after discerning he'd only fainted. His grip on the king's body tightened little by little as an increasingly gloomy look spread across his face.
He was at a crossroads from which he could never come back from. As much as he hated to, it was time to make a choice.