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#with xiao that would click on such a deep level but here we are
palaceofpassion · 2 years
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Alrighty let’s start off with something exciting Yang versus Nora
DING DING DING
Glynda could already feel the grey hairs setting in as the monitor landed on the first two contestants.  A deep breath, and a long sigh, she turned her attention back to the class.  It wasn't long before she could see both girls jumping up and down in excitement at the prospect of a challenge.  "Xiao Long and Valkyrie shall be the first duel."
Taking herself off the stage she softly whispered, "God help us." 
"Ah heckyeah!  I'm going to beat your face in Yang!" 
"Not before I deck you one Nora!" 
Both energetic girls were off, a puff of girl shaped smoke silhouettes was all that remained of them.
"Oh boy."  Ruby rubbed her temple, "This is going to be a nightmare again."
Weiss mimicked her partner taking a moment to calm her nerves before the impending crash, "I agree." 
It took only a few minutes for the two girls to make their way on stage, excitement brewing between them.  The energy in the air was palpable, static practically flowing from Nora's giddy form. 
Both girls stood at attention, preparing themselves physically and mentally for the challenge before them.  
Yang couldn’t help but smile as she stared down her opponent, gone was the small energetic girl whom she shared laughs with, replaced by a vicious lion prepared to slit her throat the moment she made a mistake. 
Ever since the start of their first year, the two had become ferocious rivals, constantly keeping one another on their toes, their record in combat currently stood as a tie, meaning today would be one of the days they got to resolve said tie.  
Yang knew that this was going to be a challenge, yet the excitement building in her bosom threatened to explode.  
“Okay Yang.”  She quietly spoke to herself, keeping her focus gathered upon her enemy.  “As dad always says, keep calm, and focus.”  
Her eyes closed, and her breathing meditation began.  She had very little time before the match started, but she was going to make sure she made the most of it.
Nora smirked, she was ready to throw down with Yang, this time she was going to win and make sure that the blondie knew who was the best between the two of them.  
Still, she couldn’t help but appreciate the level of concentration Yang had.  Bringing her attention towards the girl in question, she noted how Yang’s normally loose hair was neatly tied behind her back, a sign that she was taking this 100 percent seriously.  
There was no one here who knew how good Yang could be when she decided to concentrate and not run wild more than Nora.  Which of course meant that Nora was going to have to 100 percent from the start.  
The counter clicked down for the fight to begin, then one voice clearly cut through the silence, "Kick her butt Nora!" 
Yang turned her attention towards the crowd, and with a faux offended expression she turned towards her partner, “Really partner?!”  
Emerald for what it was worth, mocked a sorrowful expression, “Sorry Yang!  Gotta root for my girlfriend!”  
“Traitor!”  
“Oh don’t be jealous Yang!  We both know you don’t have any interest in a relationship, but don’t you worry, I’ll make sure to give you the pounding you’re really looking for~”  
Yang turned her attention back to her adversary, “Well don’t tempt me with a good time Nora!”  
“GIRLS!”  
Both students turned towards Goodwitch, their bodies chilled in fear as she gave them a look that could raise the dead.  “Not, now.”  
Her attention quickly fell to the younger students, who stared in amazement at the two huntresses banter.
“Woops!”  
Jaune’s eye twitched as he bore a hole through the side of Nora’s head from the audience, “I’m forbidding Nora from pancakes if she gives my sister any ideas…”  
Ren simply shrugged, “Fair.”  
“Now then.”  
The timer clicked to Zero.
“Fight!”  
To the surprise of the newer students, neither girl moved.  From what little they’d learned about the various older students, Yang and Nora could have been only described as bombastic.  Yet here they were, completely still, fully concentrated on one another.  
Nora’s grip tightened around the grip of her hammer, preparing to defend herself for when Yang began to move.  The girl in question had focused her energy into her feet, bringing her hands up before her face she took a proper stance.  ‘Just like dad taught me.’  
In one exhale, she released a puff of air, then in a flash the ground cracked beneath her feet and she was gone.  
“Ha!”  
Nora hadn’t the time to blink before Yang was upon her, a mighty strike descended upon her.  Yet she wasn’t caught off guard, the pole of her hammer had already been raised, tilted to the side to shift most of the force away from her.  Her body already angled to her right, causing Yang to skid off the attack and shatter the ground beneath her.  
There wasn’t an instant to spare, lacking the time to strike her with the hammer’s head, Nora struck down with the pole hoping to dull Yang’s movements with a blunted strike to the ribs.  
Yang couldn’t let her focus be shattered just yet, even with the dust scattering before her eyes she just knew Nora was going to return with a counter attack.  
Driven by instinct alone, Yang rolled to the side, very narrowly avoiding the quick strike of the blunt rod, piercing straight into the tile.  
A quick push and she was off the floor, throwing herself back.  Her concentration held up, focusing entirely on the girl who was now on the move, hammer raised overhead.
Nora’s hammer struck down upon her with enough force that the floor beneath them shattered, splintered cracks spider-webbed through the arena, all while Yang did her best to hold on.  Her gauntlets, while taking most of the blow, weren’t enough to completely protect her.  She could feel her aura distort around her, the shimmering yellow energy fluxed, focusing back into point as she attempted to push Nora off of her only to be reminded that the hammer was also a grenade launcher, perhaps a little too late for her liking.  
“Shit.”  
An earth shattering BOOM blasted from the middle of the arena a powerful shockwave knocking around several students in the front.  
Any and all dust was immediately blown away as the two opponents parted ways, the monitor briefly flashing online revealing the current aura levels.  Nora’s was still nearly 100 percent, having taken very few blows.  
However Yang’s was already halfway through yellow.  Many of the signal students began to share whispers, already thinking the match to be over.  
However, the Beacon students knew this is where it really began.  
“I really hope they don’t destroy the entire arena this time… I’d rather not get another lecture from Aunt Glynda.”  
“Nope, we’re in trouble, Jaune.”  
Both Ruby and Jaune shared a glance for a moment, only to relent and press their heads onto the desks, each receiving gentle pats from their respective partners.
The fight quickly continued as Yang’s golden aura began to swirl around her.  She could feel the energy pulsing through her body, “Perfect.”  She was in tip top shape, something that Nora seemed to pick up on.
Noticing that Nora was reaching for something in her bag Yang took the time to strike, not wanting to let Nora have any form of advantage.
She was on the pink bomber once more, this time her body was kept low and her arms held towards her chest as she released a barrage of concentraged blows, soft booms echoing behind them as she aimed for Nora’s gut in an attempt to throw the girl off.
“Oh?  Whatcha doing there Nora?”  
“Oh you know, just trying something out!”  
Though cheery on the outside, Nora lamented that she hadn’t grabbed the dust crystal earlier.  She was going to need it with the sudden boost that Yang was receiving from her semblance.  
“Ah, well that’s too bad!”  
Yang’s right fist suddenly pulled back, her fist pulled into a white knuckled clench.  Faster than any of her previous attacks she unleashed a single concentrated punch, barely avoiding Nora’s guard and sending it straight to her gut.  
Immediately the bomber was sent flying, the air around her condensing into a single powerful boom.  Her body nearly caved in on itself as her aura flickered for a moment.  The reading on the screen showed that the single blow had dropped her down to Yellow.  However, the most pressing matter was the sudden force propelling her backwards.  Her body hit the ground skidding all the way to the end of the arena.  
But before she was about to be ringed out, she quickly slammed her hammer onto the ground, while this had the effect she intended, it also meant that she lost her grip on her weapon.  Her body came to a sudden halt as she was launched higher into the air, all while her mallet rolled off clanking onto the outer floor.  
“Hah!”  
Yang may not have been able to get rid of Nora entirely but without her weapon this fight just got a whole lot easier.  
At least it would have, if not for the space between the two proving to be just enough for Nora to pull a purple crystal from her pack.  
“Oh damn it.”  
The frail dust shattered between Nora’s fingers, scattering shards everywhere.  A bright clattering spark, followed by a thunderous roar echoed through the arena.  
“IT'S TIME FOR THUNDER AND LIGHTNING!”  
Nora hit the ground with a resounding BANG.
A blut of pink sparks flung itself from the resounding dust, instantly clashing into Yang.  Two tightens met hand to hand, fingers interlocked as one tried to overpower the other.
“You had dust on you huh!?”  Yang grunted between gritted teeth.
“You betcha!  Fearless leader thought it was a good idea!  Couldn’t agree more!”  
“Well I’ll have to thank Jaune for this fight then!”  
The floor beneath the tiny titans slowly began to give way beneath their forceful clash, head to head they battered away at one another hoping to subdue their foe before too long.  Both girls could feel their semblances quickly eating away at their aura’s, threatening to push one or the other over the edge at anymoment.  
“I’m not going to lose!”  
“Tough luck Nora!  That’s my line!”  
Fire and lightning clashed, pulses of heat rippled from the epicenter of their showdown.  STudents too close to the arena were forced back as sparks of both lightning and flames flickered off the stone structure, threatening to sizzle or shock those too close.
“Grrr!”  
“RRGGGGG!”  
The match was coming to a head as Yang’s hands tightened around Nora’s hoping to lock her in place.  
What seemed like a sure deadlock was suddenly halted as to everyone’s surprise, Yang allowed herself to be pushed down.  
“Yeah!”  
Nora had this, she knew she had this!  She was going to get that cake and eat it too!  However, she had made one fatal error.
Only when Nora started to tumble forward did she notice the mistake she’d made.mistake.  By the time Yang’s back hit the ground she had performed a splendid ukemi, curling her back and shoving her boot against Nora’s gut.  With a powerful kick she sent the bomber flying past her, using her own strength against her to send her off the stage.
“NOT FAAAAAAAIR!”  
Thankfully before she crashed into the room doors, Glynda had managed to catch her with her semblance.  
“Thanks teach!  Oof!”  Glynda let Nora drop when she knew the door wouldn’t take any damage.
“Round goes to Xiao-Long… you two really had to destroy the arena, didn’t you…”  Sometimes Glynda hated her job.  
“SORRY!”  
“I’ll get you next time!”  Nora shouted from her prone position on the classroom floor.
“Sure you will Nora.”  
“Alright, you’re both done here, go get cleaned up, if you wish to try again against another student feel free to stay.
Yang shook her head, “No thanks, I know my limits, I’m done.”
“Saaaame!  Was fun though!”
“Heck yeah it was!”  
Both girls rushed off, a smile on their face, and a fist bump to conclude the match.
“Right then, I’ll fix this arena up while the monitor decides the next combatants.”
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yupuffin · 3 years
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If you had told me before that there would be a time when a particular piece of media would show me a character voiced by Keith Silverstein and I would say "no thanks, there's a different character I like more" then I would NEVER have believed you, but here we are
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merakiui · 3 years
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Diluc, Kaeya, Xiao, and Childe Finding out That You’re Being Abused HCs
cw: mentions/descriptions of (physical and emotional) abuse, injuries, depressive mood/thoughts, implied violence **please proceed with caution and do not read if this is triggering! note - submissions are confusing for me, so I wrote it in this format. I hope that was okay! 
@tuestika said: Hi! Sorry that I send my request through submission, tumblr has sometimes eaten my asks either wholly or have omnomned whole ask xD Usually my requests sent through submissions arrive intact so…. I saw that you had done Scaramouche reacting finding out their s/o is being abused headcanons, may I request headcanons for Kaeya, Diluc, Xiao and Childe finding out their their s/o is being abused? Keep up good job! <3
🔥 Diluc 🔥
Diluc might not be the most vocal person in the world, but he’s definitely observant. He’s gotten rather skilled at picking apart your social cues because he’s spent a lot of time with you. 
So when you barge into his tavern one evening, looking absolutely disheveled and asking for one of the Knights, he’s feeling two emotions: confusion and irritation. 
For one, you shouldn’t even entrust your issue to those inadequate Knights. Nevertheless, you are his friend and he isn’t going to kick you out just because you mentioned them. 
He waves you over to the bar and is thoroughly shocked when you beg him to let you hide behind it. Then he notices your split lip and the fresh injuries on your face and forearms, and he wastes no time in getting to the point.
“Why were you out so late fighting hilichurls? I hope you haven’t led any here. We don’t need that sort of trouble right now.”
“Sorry. No, that’s not it. I just—you’re the only one...” You’re struggling to piece a coherent statement together, too busy looking over your shoulder to keep track of your thoughts. “I didn’t know where I could go. I mean, I thought of you and—“
“Please slow down. Start at the beginning.”
More concerned over your safety than professionalism, Diluc allows you to slip behind the bar counter, where you cower on the ground to avoid being seen. 
You gesture for him to come down to your height and he sighs, silently complying when he finds there aren’t any new customers to serve. Bending down to your level, he holds onto the countertop to keep his balance and then he locks eyes with you. 
“What exactly happened?”
You inhale a shuddering breath, wrapping your sore arms around yourself for comfort. Tears are gathering in your eyes as you recall the event. Your abuser had found you after you’d left to get some fresh air, they’d cornered you in a secluded alley, and—you can’t finish the rest of the story.
Diluc doesn’t expect you to continue. He nods as he lets the information sink in, already harboring a deep resentment for this despicable individual. 
“Wait here. I’ll close the tavern early. In the meantime, we should see to your injuries and then we’ll look for that person.”
“I really think we should tell the Knights...” you mumble, knowing he’ll disapprove. “They’re more suited to these types of cases.”
“The Knights are incompetent. The investigation will take days, if not weeks. What happens if your abuser knows they’ll be coming for them? They’ll try to escape and then there’ll be no telling where they’ve gone.”
“I know, but it wouldn’t hurt to—“
“I’ll take care of it.”
You try to object because it’s dangerous and you don’t want him to get injured on your behalf. But he’s insistent in his decision, claiming that if the Knights can’t help you no one can. And you really wouldn’t feel safe if your abuser was still roaming free, so you have no other choice but to allow him to carry out the investigation himself.
And Diluc can be quite clever at times. It won’t be hard to traverse the interior of Mondstadt at night, where his identity melts away into that of the sneaky Darknight Hero. 
He’s going to protect you no matter what. Your abuser won’t receive an ounce of sympathy from Diluc. All he feels is cold hatred when he catches them. Someone as precious as you does not deserve to be put through such torment, and he’ll see to it that your abuser pays a hefty price to make up for all of the damage they’ve caused.
🧊 Kaeya 🧊
Kaeya can’t understand why you’ve started isolating yourself from everyone. In the past, you were always such great friends with the Knights, always catching up to talk to one of them.
He’d spent a lot of time with you and has since gotten to know you through lighthearted conversations and gossip from the people of Mondstadt. 
For someone so appreciated and well-known, he can’t wrap his head around why you might want to suddenly disappear, hiding yourself away as if you didn’t exist. 
And then he happens to catch you in town one day while you’re out running some errands. It’s so like him to pop in with a few flirty lines, but the words stick in his throat when he notices the bandages stuck to your arms and legs. 
“That can’t be good,” he says as he approaches you, leaning ever so gracefully against a wooden support beam. “Why don’t we find Barbara? I’m sure she’ll have you patched up in no time, my dear friend.”
You don’t think you’re worth it so you shake your head, nervously hoping he’ll take the hint and go away. 
“I hope you’re not accepting those dangerous commissions again,” he adds, half teasing and half serious. You can’t tell whether he’s trying to sound chiding or not. 
“Please just...leave me be. I’m a little busy right now.” You try to leave the stall you’re at, walking stiffly to avoid limping in front of him. “I’m not feeling well, so if you’ll excuse me—“
Kaeya pushes off from the beam, standing in front of you with a posture that appears immovable. “By order of the Calvary Captain,” he’s saying, a playful glint in his eyes, “you aren’t allowed to move from that spot until you tell me what’s bothering you and why you’re covered head to toe in bandages.”
You can easily object to such an order, but you figure it’s better to answer instead of arguing over your physical condition. So you explain a modified version of the story, telling him that you simply got into a disagreement and it ended in bruises on both sides. 
Kaeya hears the tremble in your voice when you say it; you’re lying. His expression softens at once and he steps away, indicating that you’re free to leave. But you don’t; you’re looking at him with such a helpless, pleading look. It breaks his heart.
You break before him, lips quivering as you beg for his help. You’re so scared and alone, and you’re not sure how long you can suffer through this before it seriously hurts you. 
“This is the first time I’ve gotten out in weeks.” So that explains your sudden isolation. “Please... I don’t want to go back home anymore. I’ll do anything. Just don’t let them hurt me again.”
Kaeya’s absolutely stunned to hear the silent revelation in your words. You’re awkwardly reaching to undo one of the bandage wrappings to prove your point, but he stops you short. That’s all the proof he needs.
You’ll be brought back to the Knights of Favonius’ Headquarters to be tended to while he gathers a team to search for your abuser. Since you gave him a solid description, it shouldn’t be too hard to find them. 
And once they’re apprehended, Kaeya will subject them to a grueling interrogation. There will be no gentle punishment; it’s going to be as unforgiving as the abuse you had to suffer through. 
☁️ Xiao ☁️
You’ve never really been keen on physical touch and Xiao understands that completely. He usually avoids any sort of interaction to begin with, unless it’s absolutely necessary, so it’s not a surprise whenever you shy away from large crowds.
He has grown rather fond of you, which has lead to the two of you meeting at Wangshu Inn for some Almond Tofu and relaxed chit-chat.
During one of your many conversations, you bring up a few alarming statements. They’re just personal points you’d like to change, such as your weak fighting spirit or the way your joints brokenly click when you stretch. 
Xiao wonders why you’d want to change yourself. You’re not usually this doubtful of yourself. In the past, you would always play the role of his smiling friend, putting on a positive face even when he was in a disagreeable mood. 
Xiao is examining your movements as you awkwardly explain yourself and when your arms move he catches the sight of a rope burn etched into your wrist. 
“What happened?” He gestures to your sleeve, to which you react in a nervous manner, shyly pulling your sleeve down to hide it. Xiao frowns a bit. “Did you get into an accident?”
“No, of course not! I’m fine. It’s just a result of my clumsiness.”
It really doesn’t look like that to Xiao and when he truly looks at you again he finds that you appear abnormally tired and exhausted. He isn’t going to sugarcoat anything and he could be making a giant assumption, but he still asks.
“Is someone hurting you?”
Your eyes widen for a split second and Xiao catches that movement like a cat drawn to a laser pointer. He won’t force you to explain unless you feel comfortable doing so. The last thing he wants is upsetting you or pressuring you into something you don’t want to talk about.
Eventually, though, the story will come to light and he’ll hear all about the horrors you’ve gone through. That rope burn was just one of many punishments you’ve had to endure, and Xiao’s just about ready to snap. How dare someone lay their filthy hands upon you in such a violent way?
Xiao will calmly tell you to stay at Wangshu Inn or anywhere else in Liyue where you’ll be safe. He’ll watch over you while you take time to recuperate and heal. He’s going to make sure you’ll never have to go through something like that ever again.
Having Xiao by your side makes the healing process all the more comforting.
And when you fall asleep in a soft, warm bed, Xiao slips out into the night to search for your abuser. It won’t be a pretty sight once he gets his hands on the human trash who dared to hurt you.
💧 Childe 💧
He’s very perceptive when it comes to your health and overall well-being. After all, he’s got brothers and sisters to care for; perception is absolutely necessary in order to keep them happy and healthy.
So it doesn’t take long for him to realize your behavior is uncharacteristic. You’re jumpier than usual, always apologizing for the littlest of things, and you’ll look over your shoulder whenever you sense something.
It’s almost as if you expect someone to suddenly come at you, which isn’t all that odd. Childe has been known to keep you on your toes when he’s looking for a fight.
But on one particular day he manages to give you a spook when he comes up beside you, grinning and showing up in your peripheral so suddenly that it nearly gives you a heart attack. 
You’re so frightened as you back away, practically folding in on yourself in an effort to protect yourself from an imaginary blow. Childe pauses, that silly grin fading when he realizes you’re shaking.
“Hey, it wasn’t that scary. Come on, comrade!” He’s approaching you warily, not entirely sure why you’re acting the way you are. He’s always been spontaneous; you should be used to this by now.
But you refuse to let him come any closer, having to distance yourself so that you can ease your racing heart and hyperventilating lungs. Once you’ve calmed down, embarrassment floods through you at the fact that Childe just witnessed all of that. 
Childe will ask if you’re okay with him stepping closer and if you nod he’ll be on you like a hawk, pulling up your sleeves before you can stop him. 
For once, you catch an expression you normally don’t find on Childe: surprise. He’s genuinely shocked at what he sees: dark bruises and shallow lacerations from something sharp. 
Either you got these in your many sparring matches or there’s another factor at play here, and Childe is almost certain it’s the latter.  
His voice is gentle as he asks you to explain what’s going on and once you do he’s already set on finding the one who did this. He seems to forget all about his Fatui work, wanting to capture your abuser and give them a piece of his mind—and subject them to more than a few pieces of his strength, too. 
He’ll have you protected in no time, offering to take you to the best healer. You’ll be treated wonderfully and he’ll even lay off on your sparring matches for a while. 
In the meantime, once he gets his hands on your abuser, everything becomes fair game. After all, someone has to handle the brunt of his anger and pent-up bloodlust from the lack of a fight. And your abuser is the perfect match to pummel into the ground. Childe shows absolutely no mercy for them. 
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wesimpforxiao · 3 years
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Say My Name and I’ll Be There: 9.3
Childe elected to ignore your groan of pain when he yanked you to your feet.  "No hard feelings, comrade."
"I-I'm gonna kill you," you breathed.  "I'll kill you and that damned witch if it's the last thing I do."  A cold hand pressed to your side while the harbinger threw your other arm over his shoulder to escort you inside.
"I suppose I'll have to train you then if that's your goal."
He wasn't joking; the two of you would remain at a stalemate until your strength grew.  He taught you--what you assumed was--almost everything he knew, though for you to reap the full benefits of his knowledge would take years of training.  Despite this he pushed you over and over again, every day, after the wound he gave you closed.  He didn't give you the courtesy of healing completely before initiating fights with you.  He didn't go easy on you either--but it's not like you would've wanted him to in the first place.  At least your sparring sessions gave you an outlet to take out your frustrations on.
You didn't count the days that passed.  You didn't call for Xiao.  You didn't rely on him to save you when all is said and done.  It was time to rescue yourself; if you overran the palace on your own, then other nations wouldn't need to get involved on your behalf.  If the palace fell, no one except you would be held responsible.  You were okay with that.  If it meant Xiao, Aether and Zhongli would be excluded from the wrath of the cryo archon, then your struggles were more than worth it.
Yet with every passing day, more and more Fatui agents were injected with the serums that contained your blood--and survived.  The only thing that made their successful adaptation possible was the sealing of your and Xiao's bond.  With that thought in mind, you were growing increasingly impatient.  You were the one that insisted upon training for most of the day, not Childe.  You were the one looking for a fight.
"Why're you doing this?"  You asked one day while your hand absently trailed down to the fresh scar on your side where he had impaled you.
"Doing what?"
"Training me.  Isn't it a stupid move to train someone how to fight when they're intent on killing you?  If I was you, I would've just let me bleed out in the snow back then."
"If I didn't train you, I would be missing out on one of the best fights of my life."
"Is that supposed to flatter me?"
"It's the truth.  Where else am I supposed to find a worthy opponent?  At my current power level, I'd have more luck with creating one."  Childe conjured his bow and twirled it in his hand, seemingly debating something that was on his mind.  "With your improved skills, I think we'd be able to take the other harbingers."
You froze.  "What?  Why would you say that?  Whatever happened to your undying loyalty?"
"My loyalty for the Tsaritsa and my respect for my coworkers are two entirely different matters.  What I really care about is fighting.  It's been so long since I've had an exhilarating battle, even after Aether showed up.  I would give anything to feel that thrilled again.  And that, dear ojou-chan, is where you come in."
"I'm not fighting you for the thrills.  I will kill you, I'll make sure of it."  It's insulting that he'd even look at your anger as a type of entertainment!  The nerve of this guy--
"Well until then I think we could stir up quite the trouble, you and I, don't you think?"  His eyes finally left his weapon and locked onto you.
"...What exactly are you implying, Tartaglia?"  Narrowed suspicious pupils returned his mischievous ones.
He didn't answer, instead leaving you with an ominous smirk and returning to the palace walls.  Why should you trust a word that fell from his mouth after the Lantern Rite stunt he pulled?  Maybe a small part of you wanted to believe he had some inkling of good in him, but you forced that wishful thinking down into the depths of your soul.  Childe betrayed you so many times; it was in his nature to do so.  He would never be done deceiving you either.  You were sure of it despite the doubts that weighed on your mind.
.........................
"Bow before Her Majesty, the Tsaritsa."  La Signora crossed her arms over her chest when you just glared at the dark throne that sat beneath the shadows.
"I think not."
The clicking of the harbinger's heels echoed in the silent room as everyone held their breaths.  No one dared stand up to the cryo archon; it was unthinkable, even considered treason to question her actions.  This would be the first meeting with the god since you formed a contract with her.  And yet despite your quivering knees, you didn't remove your disrespectful glare from the throne.
"I wasn't asking."  Fingers gripped your chin and forced you to look Signora in the face at an uncomfortably close distance.  "You know the drill.  Bow."
A beat of silence hung heavily in the air and then an awkward cough came from one of the Fatui advisors to your far right.  You didn't blink.  "Did I stutter?"
Signora's lips curled into a half-amused smirk before her fingers let go of your chin and were replaced by a palm slapping you instead.  Her nails broke skin, but your expression never changed even when the stinging pain rang through your ear.  "Have you forgotten who you serve?"
"She's not my god."
"Maybe not the one you worship, but I am the one you serve," the Tsaritsa leaned forward from her place on the throne and gestured for the Fair Lady to return to her side.  "Tell me, why did you request to see me?"
A quick glance was sent Childe's away as if to check yourself.  You had decided it best to at least try the peaceful way out before throwing yourself into a suicide mission.  If worse came to worse, at least you'd be able to put your new knowledge to the test.  "I'm no longer working for you."  The archon's silence urged you to continue.  "You don't need me here anymore.  You got what you wanted.  I'm going to return to Liyue."
"Is that so?"
"I will leave regardless of your answer."
"And you think I'd just let you walk out of here after all I've done for you?"  The temperature dropped, but it displayed an emotion that you couldn't put your finger on.  "I gifted you your vision, spared your life and that of your friends, and you insult me in return?"
What is this feeling of dread in my stomach?  Your fists tightened and you took a deep breath to steady your nerves.  "The trials are over now that Dottore's injections work.  That was our deal, was it not?  You want to break our contract?  I thought you were more credible than that," you tested.
"I know what you've been thinking," the archon's thin lips formed a sinister grin.  "I know you're plotting to cause an uproar, and I am telling you now that you will fail.  Heed my words, Mezzetin, you are and always will be under my control."
"Wh-What did you just say...?"  Your heartbeat drummed loudly in your ears and you knees felt like they would give out beneath you.  This...This happened before.  When did she say that?  Where did I hear these words from?  Cold, desolate eyes watched you carefully as the room spun beneath your feet.  "Stay...away..."
"You work for me, not the other way around.  If you leave now, I'll give the order to kill those friends of yours.  You're not done until I say you're done."
"You wouldn't--!"  Bile burned the back of your throat, and a shaky hand covered your mouth in case you suddenly couldn't hold it in.  "You...you..."  An unsettling realization came to light.
"Do you understand the position you're in, Mezzetin?"
"It was...You gave me those nightmares!  Those were all you?"
"You don't think I'm oblivious to your desires, do you? You will always be under my control."
"If you dare touch him I'll--!"  Hundreds of shards manifested behind you and simultaneously shot at the throne.  The more that shattered against the seat and back wall, the more that manifested and replaced them.  
The ones that barreled nearest to the Tsaritsa diverted their path and shattered against the back wall like they had a mind of their own.  Signora used her catalyst to redirect the remaining shards to you.  Luckily none of them landed a strike on your skin, but a charged arrow of Childe's landed before your feet and you slipped on the forming ice.  His hydro blade was immediately at your throat, along with Signora hovering over you with an annoyed look on her face.  The three of you were surrounded by Fatui officers in an instant; despite their capabilities, they were slower than the harbingers.
"If she makes a move, kill her," the archon calmly ordered, completely unbothered by the commotion.
Signora had her men drag you away to the all-too familiar exit that led to the cells beneath the palace.  They forced your head forward so you didn't see the Tsaritsa recline back in her seat and into the shadows.
The archon swiped her finger across her pale cheekbone and warily inspected the fresh blood that had run down the side of her face.  I missed one?  One of your shards did manage to hit her.  Such a measly attack shouldn't have injured me, she thought as she stared at her fingers in awe and concern.  While your power had grown to a certain extent thanks to Childe's training, it was by no means anywhere near equivalent to his--much less equivalent to a god's.  Your strikes, while powerful, shouldn't have been able to hurt the cryo archon.  Yet here she was, staring at the blood you drew from her.
She recalled the wild look in your eyes when you decided to attack her.  Such a beautiful, pitiful sight that held an immeasurable lack of sanity and rational thought.  Your rage was feral, but just like a wild animal, so was your fear of being caged.  She could see it in your stance;  you were all bark and little bite.  The soft interior within her hardened heart actually admired your bravery...only a little, though.  If she were to achieve her goals, that flame of admiration would quickly be extinguished since it had no place in such a cruel world.
Her thumb smoothed over her bloodied fingers while she thought quietly to herself.  It shouldn't have been possible to harm her.  Not on your own, not even with your vision.  It was then that it dawned on her the true meaning of your bond with Morax's sole-surviving warrior adeptus.
So this is the power of the Vigilant Yaksha.
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pinkbalrog · 3 years
Text
Of Gods and Tombs
A Noragami Lost Tomb AU I decided to actually write up. Apologies for cultural errors. I probably could have researched more. No offense was meant. :) Feel free to comment. I consciously tried not to sink too much focus into this because I am a perfectionist and would have brooded over this for weeks, and I do have other projects! All supernatural elements are improvised, perhaps badly. I also wasn’t sure of Xiao Er Ye? Thoughts? I don’t know Chinese : (. 
Mentioning @jockvillagersonly because they have been ridiculously nice. :)
Here we go!
Pangzi stared. The man stared back, holding Pangzi’s wilting incense in one hand. He’d been, savoring it? Maybe? Wide eyes stared back over a thin trail of smoke and, was he blushing?
“Who the FUC-”
“Shhhh!” the man lunged forward. He dropped the incense, wincing and grabbed Pangzi’s arm. “You’ll wake something up!”
“You’re something!”
“We can talk but—yes, I am?”
Pangzi got a handful of silk. Where did he get the hanfu? He jerked him close, eyes narrowed, grinning so hard his cheeks ached. “You,” he grated, “are not part of the expedition”.
Wide eyes blinked at him. “What expedition?” Pangzi cuffed him.
“You think I came in here alone? You did not come in with us.” The guy wasn’t frail, was pretty solid actually, but he had the look of a bird plucked out of a net.  
“No. Obviously?” Thoughts moved rapidly behind his eyes, and he scanned Pangzi, taking in his sweat stained shirt, abraded hands, and his unshaven face. “You came with a group then, and you came up.” He pried off Pangzi’s grip and took a step towards the dark where Pangzi had dragged the heavy door mostly into place. “At least that’s the only way you’d be in this corridor, it’s inaccessible on this level.”
Pangzi gaped. He exclaimed, “Then how the hell did you get here?” The man ignored him, squatting down to look at Pangzi’s sleeping bag. Pangzi stepped in front of it defensively.
The man continued, “They must be dead, otherwise you wouldn’t be alone, and you need help”. He nodded at Pangzi, as if they were having a discussion. They were not.
Pangzi loomed over him. “Again, how are you here?”
The man rolled back on his heels, straightened, and damn well held his hands in front of him like he was lecturing. Long sleeves slid back from thin wrists. His hair was short, and not neat at all. “I’ve been here for a long time, and I need help too.”
“You,” Pangzi sputtered, “you need help. You look, look you’re not a ghost right? You would have already tried to kill me. Right. I’m sitting down for this.” And he threw himself down on the platform of the pitiful, wedged open coffin, nearly squashing his back pack. He crossed his arms. “Well, what’s your name?”
The guy, whoever he was, smiled hopefully. “You can call me Xiao Er Ye.”
Pangzi grunted. “Wang Pangzi”.
Xiao Er Ye bowed, weirdly formal.
Stretching out his legs, which ached from walking uneven corridors for literal days, Pangzi idly rifled through his bag until he had a good grip on his gun, then he pulled out a water bottle and let it hang from his hand. “And what are you anyway?”
“I’m a god.”
The bottle thunked on the floor. “What?”
Xiao Er Ye smiled wider.
Pangzi sneered. He waved his arms. “A god. Bullshit.” Whoever lost their lunatic in that pathetic village was probably wondering what hole they fell into. Pangzi’s hole apparently.
Xiao Er Ye regarded him steadily. “It’s true. Did you wonder why I had your incense?” Pangzi scoffed,
“Becasue you’re a weirdo?”
“Because your offering allowed me to appear to you.”
“Right. And that seems like a reasonable explanation to you?”
He was ridiculous, but he was really clean. There was fat on his bones, and his nails were neat. Pangzi let go of the gun, considering. The guy clearly got in here very recently, which meant there was a way out. Could Pangzi humor the lunatic to get out of a literal death trap? Hell yes.
“Oookay,” he drawled, “So you’re a god. I can see you. What do you need my help for, your holiness?”
Immediately, Xiao Er Ye sat close beside him. “I can’t leave here because someone is here in a trap meant for me. I can’t free him because the trap is meant for me.” He paused to see if Pangzi was following. Pangzi smiled wide. Apparently reassured, Xiao Er Ye went on, “and I’m having a hard enough time keeping the trap from doing what it’s supposed to do, which is make the whole thing even more inescapable. You’re mortal, so you can free him”.
Taking a drink, Pangzi considered. So yes, Xiao Er Ye was off his rocker. He put the cap back on and asked,
“But do you know a way out of here?”
“Yes, many.”
“And you’re still here.”
Xiao Er Ye set his jaw, obstinate. “I need help.”
Pangzi tapped the bottle. So, do one nonsensical thing and finally get out? Or do nothing and lose what might be a chance. He remembered red hands, gleaming wetly.  
“Okay,” he said, and watched Xiao Er Ye light up. He was ridiculously easy to read. “Say I believe you. How does this work?”  
“I lead you to the trap, and you follow my instructions. Then we get out.”
Pangzi eyed him incredulously. “Then we get out. No real plan for that?”
Xiao Er Ye grinned, gestured at the tomb around them, and said, “That’s the easy part.”
Pangzi snorted. “Easy he says.” He made a production of standing up, and folded, “You better not screw me over, your holiness.”
“Thank you.” Pangzi paused. Xiao Er Ye’s voice was soft, earnest, “Thank you Wang Pangzi.”
Pangzi huffed a laugh. Atleast this was a harmless idiot. “Yeah, you’re welcome, let’s go get your boyfriend, or whatever, and get out of here.”
Xiao Er Ye’s voice pitched up, “my whatever?” and he kept talking.
Ignoring him, Pangzi faced the door. Damn it, he had to shift it again.
 . . .
Pangzi reconsidered this decision. He reconsidered it strongly. Ripping another lotus arrow out of his shirt he threw it at Xiao Er Ye. Xiao Er Ye dodged, and it clicked on the floor with all the others. This was trap number six. He tried to stay calm.
“And why,” he hissed, “Are you setting off every trap in this godsdamned tomb? How are there even this many left? Didn’t you come this way? Why aren’t you dead? Are you dead? Are you a fucking ghost because so help me I will hit you.”
Turns out, Xiao Er Ye was right about the corridor earlier being inaccessible from that level, but you could climb up another pit trap. Pangzi was getting very tired of squeezing up pit traps, and apparently this guy just clambered up and down them? Without getting dirty? Without seeming flustered in the least? Maybe his people put him in the hole on purpose. Was this all just enrichment? Even the spear traps? It was a fucking blessing that they seemed to be malfunctioning, or aged past effectiveness.
Xiao Er Ye looked sheepish, shrugging. “I forgot to worry about them? I’m usually not materially here when I walk around, but you need to see me and get past them so...”
Pangzi took a deep breath and counted to ten. “I need a drink”.
“Are you hurt though?” and now Xiao Er Ye was all sharp-eyed and attentive, all his focus on Pangzi, on his bruises and battered ego. Pangzi’s shoulders slumped.
“From this?” he shook his head and clapped a hand on Xiao Er Ye’s shoulder, “I’m fine. Can we just—what is THAT?”
There were hands, white, emaciated hands pressing through the stones at their feet. Black writhed up. Shrieking, Pangzi stomped, and stomped again.
Xiao Er Ye was stomping too, ranting, “Oh not again, no no I will not humor you. Do you want to be dead? Really? I told you no!”
The hands shrank back with a plaintive keen and one last lingering caress on Xiao Er Ye’s leg.
Pangzi and Xiao Er Ye stood there, breathing heavily. Their eyes met. Xiao Er Ye wore a strained smile and he looked, desperate.  
“So,” Pangzi stepped past Xiao Er Ye, careful not to step on any cracks, “Where next?” He didn’t look back, but he heard Xiao Er Ye take a shaky breath.
“Down this way. We’re almost there.”
. . .
“Almost there” was a lie. Pangzi sympathized, he did. It seemed Xiao Er Ye really believed a friend of his was down here; but the longer it took to reach, whatever it was, the more Pangzi worried he wouldn’t get the chance to talk Xiao Er Ye down, and nudge him towards showing both of them out of the tomb. He did not want to wander until he starved, or end up like his former team mates, spattered across the walls of a noisome pit.
The corridors were getting smoother, more ornate, and Pangzi swore he could feel fresh air vented in from somewhere. Xiao Er Ye was silent now, heading doggedly forward. Finally, he turned a corner, and, in the light of Pangzi’s flashlight, there were massive doors, green gold bronze with jade inset panels. They glimmered, untouched by dust. In fact, and here Pangzi swung his flashlight around, splendor wasn’t confined to the doors. There were murals faded but intricate all over the walls of the corridor.
There was no way to smuggle those doors out, but Pangzi wanted. His fingers twitched. Why had the expedition come in on a lower grade? If they’d realized the tomb was mostly vertical, that stuff like this was at the top, well, this would have been a different raid altogether. It was quiet, hushed but for the sound of Pangzi’s and Xiao Er Ye’s foot steps, the sound of their breathing, and the rustle of Xiao Er Ye’s ornate coat as he strode forward.
The doors swung open at a touch, soundlessly, and, hesitating in the corridor, Pangzi believed for the first time, that maybe Xiao Er Ye was non-human, at least a little. Was this really real? He pinched himself, which hurt. Nothing changed.
What prayers had he used, when he lit the incense? He lost track sometimes. Was he even doing any of them correctly? “Pangzi?” Xiao Er Ye’s voice echoed.
Pangzi swallowed his nerves, steeled his gut and called back, “Yeah, yeah I’m coming.” Inside was a riot of gold statues, positioned as an audience, a circle of jade set into a stone platform, intact the whole way around, and a man suspended in the air, curled defensively, dark hair falling over his shoulders. Long sleeves of richest, deepest blue, hung from his slender frame, and as Pangzi crept closer, rapt, he saw that the man’s face was ridiculously pretty. He seemed asleep. He was definitely, no doubt about it, floating.
“What.”
“I told you,” that was Xiao Er Ye, his voice grim. He was standing at the edge of the jade circle, intent on the characters carved inside it. He was holding out his hands, and for the first time, in the weird eldritch light the whole thing gave off, Pangzi could see scars on Xiao Er Ye’s palms and wrists, as if they’d but cut with a straight blade. Xiao Er ye shook, straining to reach with everything in him.
“Please, Pangzi, you can break it.” 
Pangzi felt, calm, as if he was in his home town, standing outside the Lucky Frog bar, staring into the fervid eyes of old man Wei. His voice was even,
“What happened to your hands?”
“My hands?” Xiao Er Ye drew back, glancing at his palms, “What does it matter?” he looked back at the circle, “I tried to put more of me in the circle, to get it to grab me but blood didn’t work, or hair. They just, evaporated, or fell apart on contact and nothing works. Please, break it.”
“How long have you, right—What do I do?”
Xiao Er Ye’s instructions apparently, amounted to “break it” all his easy words gone. Pangzi tried wedging the jade up, but he couldn’t get any purchase, and blunt force didn’t even dent it. He sat, panting, and chugged the last of his water. Xiao Er Ye stood by, fretting.
“I can’t, not like this.”
“What?” Xiao Er Ye hunched, looking very small.
Pangzi stood with effort, and stretched, turning to loosen the muscles of his core. “So you’re a god huh, sure it’s not that guy? He looks more, holy.”
Xiao Er Ye’s face was stone. It was unnatural. “I’m a god. He’s Xiao ge” and he said Xiao ge as if, of all things in the world, that he was most sure of.
“So you can get us out, if say, I blow up the room?”
Xiao Er Ye burst forward, breathless and all glimmering silk, “You can do that?”
Pangzi bared his teeth, “Oh hell yeah.”
. . .
Turns out it was a good thing he’d lugged all those incendiaries up so many floors. It took a while, but Xiao Er Ye had surprisingly steady hands once he had something to do with them. He talked to Xiao ge as he worked, but it wasn’t any dialect Pangzi knew, and he didn’t ask. At the last, Xiao Er Ye made Pangzi stand close, so close that he could smell incense and something like petrichor.
Xiao Er Ye met his eyes and Pangzi hit the trigger.
. . .
The world was dust. Dust and nothing. No sound or feeling, like the world fell away. It cut back in as a blade to the throat.
A literal blade. Pangzi was suddenly, viscerally aware of sun, beaming down on him, of the rumble and clatter of stone as the chamber collapsed around them, radiating outward. He ached, he was thirtsy, his stomach drew in, his breath caught, and they were out.
Xiao Er Ye was standing behind Xiao-ge, who was awake, with a predatory gaze pinned on Pangzi’s face. He held a black and gold sword against Pangzi’s throat and one arm was held out in front of Xiao Er Ye. Xiao Er Ye blinked, looking dazed.
“Uh” Pangzi tried again, throat dry, “Xiao Er Ye?”
The god shook his head, drew a deep breath, and noticed Xiao ge. “Xiao ge!”
He threw himself on him dragging him away from Pangzi. Xiao ge went willingly raising a long fingered hand to Xiao Er Ye’s arm, gazing into his face with an intensity that hurt to look at. Xiao Er Ye, reverent, cupped his face, grazing his thumbs beneath ink dark eyes. He breathed out, bright eyed, “You’re awake.”
Pangzi found somewhere else to look. All that shattered gold looked promising.
. . .
The chamber they’d broken was indeed, at the top of the tomb, and had seemingly been built atop an older structure, carved out from inside the tomb so that it was built on top of a place of death, so that it would draw Xiao Er Ye up. From where, Pangzi didn’t ask. What he knew was that there were trees, green and rustling, and sunlight warm on his face. The underbrush was thick, but they managed to find a route that wouldn’t exhaust them within an hour. Pangzi got out his kukri, and Xiao-ge put his sword to better use.
Together, they made their way through the trees, Xiao-ge going ahead, presumably to clear the way of threats, like squirrels. He’d tied back his heavy sleeves and accepted a torn bit of silk from Xiao Er Ye to pull back his hair. Pangzi watched him go, then turned to Xiao Er Ye, who practically glowed. Was he literally glowing? It was hard to tell. The god stood on his toes, soft eyed and open, watching where Xiao ge went.
Pangzi cleared his throat, and asked, “So if you’re a god, what’s he?”
Xiao Er Ye started, then settled back on his heels. “Oh! He’s a Hafuri vessesl!” Pangzi looked at him, dead eyed. “Oh, it means he is the most loyal and, potent? Of shinki, of named spirits that serve a god.”
Pangzi mulled that over. He dug out a few protein bars and made to hand one to Xiao Er Ye, who declined. “Named spirits?”
“Gods give spirits a new existence with a name. He is Xiao ge. He becomes a tattoo! It’s beautiful.”
Pangzi unwrapped his bar and replied, “Right. A tattoo.” He drew himself up, and bit the bullet, asking, “And what god are you?”
But it was Xiao-ge who answered, stealthy as a cat creeping up on them, regarding Xiao Er Ye with a warm gaze, “Qinguang Wang”.
Pangzi choked. “What?”
The God of death and misfortune ducked his head, then smirked impishly, leaning into Pangzi’s personal space. Neatly, he swung Pangzi around to face forward, and rested his with an arm over Pangzi’s shoulders. “And you’re a Priest now!”
Pangzi stopped dead. “What.” He blinked, raised a hand to his chin, and asked carefully, “Are there perks?”
The god’s laughter pealed out, obnoxiously loud. Xiao ge’s lip twitched upward. He glanced at Pangzi, and intoned, nodding gravely, “Do well.” He resumed his walk ahead of them.
Pangzi shrugged off the—his god’s arm and stomped after him, “And what is that supposed to mean? I haven’t even agreed to this yet!”
. . .
Pangzi insisted that the shrine have a full size kitchen and more than one Hello Kitty egg timer.
Fin
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quazartranslates · 3 years
Text
Welcome to the Nightmare Game - CH98
**This is an edited machine translation. For more information, please [click here]**
[<<< Previous Chapter | Table of Contents | Next Chapter >>>]
-----
Chapter 98: Castle Cry (XXV)
The rooftop garden was filled with ruins, and the traces of the explosion and fire were everywhere. Qi Leren took a deep breath of the smokey and damp air, then walked to the treasure chest left by the crazy lady's death, hesitated, and called Dr. Lu back: "Come and open the box!"
Dr. Lu came running, panting. He tripped and almost fell on the bumpy ground along the way. Fortunately, Su He gave him a hand.
"Do you really want me to open it for you?" Dr. Lu asked earnestly, his eyes shining and his face irrepressible.
"I'm sure," Qi Leren also said seriously. This was the time to trust the European emperor, not to be cheap.
"Er... Su He, is there any law or metaphysics in opening the box?" Dr. Lu asked.
"Generally speaking, most treasure chests contain strange disposable goods, a few have skill cards, and there are also pure card slots or attributes. Some people even encounter random tasks. There’s almost no rules they follow. In fact, skill cards may not be good, but some props will have magical effects at critical moments. If you’re lucky enough, you may open them and find legendary resurrection items," Su He smiled and said.
Qi Leren's heart hitched. He forced himself not to look at Su He. He didn't know whether Su He suddenly mentioned the resurrection items intentionally or unintentionally. He could only pretend to be natural enough…
It should be a coincidence... Su He mentioned a similar resurrection skill card a long time ago. Now, it was just to explain the relationship between the box and luck. He was just feeling guilty!
"Then I’ll open it. If I open a binding skill card, you won’t get your share," Dr. Lu reminded Qi Leren.
Qi Leren tried to calm down: "Open it."
Dr. Lu put his finger on the lock, and the golden box opened.
Dr. Lu glanced at the skill card and said, "This should be good, here."
[Demon Etiquette (Unbound Skill Card): For each use, one demon crystal must be used. If the demon crystals in your inventory are insufficient, the skill cannot be used. During the equipment of this skill, the player will gain the appearance of a demon, in accordance with the type of consumed demon crystal, but no demon talents will be obtained. The skill lasts for 3 hours and the cooling time is 24 hours.]
This is…
Qi Leren looked at the skill card in his hand. His intuition told him that this skill card was unusual, but he couldn't tell what was unusual. He looked at Su He for help: "This card... should be useful?"
Su He took a look at the skill card and said a little unexpectedly: "A very good skill. If there are tasks involving demons in the future, maybe you can pretend to be one of them, but you need demon crystals to do it..."
Su He didn't continue, but gave Qi Leren a meaningful look, and the latter immediately understood what he wanted to say: Right now he should stay away from the demon crystals, otherwise the seed of slaughter in him would soon get out of control.
"It seems I’m lucky, hey," Dr. Lu said triumphantly.
Su He looked at him with a smile and nodded appreciatively.
"Let’s go back and get dinner." Qi Leren reached out and tried to clap Dr. Lu's shoulder. When he lifted his arm, however, this arm that he had rolled on to avoid the crazy lady was in terrible pain, having been severely bruised.
When Dr. Lu saw it, he quickly sought to treat him: "Don't worry about the skill cooling time now. I’ll treat you first. Although it’s not perfect, it’s better than nothing."
The “Doctor’s Orders” skill was quite reliable. Qi Leren's bruises on his forehead, the cuts on his arms, and bruises all over his body quickly faded and scabbed over, but it could only reach this level. If he was now suffering from fatal injuries, this skill would be powerless, and would only serve to make him die more slowly at most.
The wounds healed and the pain eased. Qi Leren waved his arm happily and thanked him. Seeing that Su He was still studying the ashes left by the crazy lady after her death, he asked curiously, "Is there anything wrong?"
"There’s nothing wrong, just a little strange. After Dr. Lu burned the Devil's sacrifice before, the crazy lady didn’t weaken, but became stronger..." After thinking, Su He said, "It probably caused her madness. At first, her body was hard and it was difficult to hurt her. After burning the sacrifice, her defense and speed dropped sharply. Reusing the ashes left by Luo Xueyi should further stimulate her strength. The attack power and attack means were stronger. This state couldn't last long.”
Qi Leren scratched his head. Although he’d tried his best to avoid it just now, a few strands of hair were burnt by the fiery rain, giving off an odd smell: "Unfortunately, I didn't find Xiao Hong's half-body, otherwise we could have used it... Why did you pull my arm?"
Dr. Lu turned his eyes and pulled his arm to the side: "You can’t see well, get more vitamin A to enhance your night vision."
Looking in the direction of Dr. Lu's finger, behind the bush illuminated by a flashlight, Xiao Hong's half-body was impressively hanging on a big tree, which was very eye-catching.
Qi Leren was silent.
"It's too dark, and it was extremely tense. It's normal not to notice it," Su He calmly comforted Qi Leren.
Qi Leren continued to remain silent.
The three people burned the remaining half of Xiao Hong's body, and then left the rooftop garden. The time left was running out, so they had to leave the castle quickly to finish the task.
When they went downstairs, Qi Leren asked, "What’s the completion of our task now?"
“91%,” Su He said.
"Wow, we can get the lucky draw opportunity! More than 90% let’s us randomly draw once! I like it!" Dr. Lu got excited.
"There's still 9%. Where’s the difference?" Qi Leren recalled the plot of the task and felt that they shouldn’t be missing too much.
Dr. Lu hesitated: "Well, now the story has been mostly explored. A long time ago Sarah fell in love with Johann who was not of noble birth, and Johann married Sarah for some purpose — maybe emotion or  interest. Sarah found out that her maid Adeline was having an affair with Johann. She secretly killed Adeline and pretended that she had eaten food she was deathly allergic to. No one discovered it was a murder except Mrs. Sarah's family doctor Flajser. The time frame of the above things is unclear, but they’re generally true. After that, Mrs. Sarah and Mr. Johann came to China for business and built and lived in this castle. In order to avenge Adeline, Dr. Flajser also came to China from Germany. In order to prevent Mrs. Sarah's genetic disease from being passed on to the next generation, Mr. Johann had been using the method provided by Dr. Flajser to prevent contraception. He instructed his maid Nina to put mercury powder in Mrs. Sarah's diet. Later, when Nina found out about this. Nina was worried that she was poisoning Mrs. Sarah, so she reduced the dose without authorization. Later, Mrs. Sarah became pregnant. Nina heard the conversation between Dr. Flajser and Mr. Johann, and found that they were going to continue to feed her mercury powder so that Mrs. Sarah would give birth to a deformed fetus and allow it to be killed. Nina was afraid of Mrs Sarah's genetic disease and caused an accident. Mrs. Sarah fell down the stairs and miscarried. After the miscarriage, Mrs. Sarah's mental state deteriorated sharply - this may have been Dr Flajser's doing - and she began to suspect that everything was caused by the dead Adeline's demons, and the relationship between husband and wife began to break down. Then the Devil bewitched her in the mirror and taught her how to perform the sacrifice. Mrs. Sarah, who loved her husband deeply, sacrificed to the Devil to save his love. However, the sacrifice made her mental illness more and more serious. Until finally, she sacrificed Nina and went completely crazy. Mrs. Sarah, under the control of the Devil, personally killed everyone and set fire to the castle, and the story ended."
"It sounds like we haven't missed any important clues." Qi Leren thought that the clues they had were very complete, yet there was still 9% missing.
Su He analyzed the two in an orderly way: "This degree of completion means that we have completed the main story, and the conclusion of the puzzle is correct, but some clues and evidence are missing. If we must study it deeply, there are three dark lines that we have not excavated. One is about Nina. Her behavior seems reasonable, but it seems strange when you look deeper into it. In order to avoid the genetic disease that would come from Mrs. Sarah giving birth, she chose to force her to miscarry. Didn't this cause Mrs. Sarah to go crazy? Her original words are also very interesting, 'I feel like I must have been persuaded by the Devil', so we don't know if she was influenced by the Devil like the crazy lady. Nina's attitude, which was seen in the phantom when she created the last Devil sacrifice, was also very subtle. She sympathized with the crazy lady and implied guilt, but vaguely, she was also jealous, which was not the emotions that a clever maid should have. At another point, Nina said that since she confessed to Mr. Johann that she had reduced the dosage of mercury powder, this matter was handed over to other maids, and she was also locked up, but after Mrs. Sarah miscarried, went mad, and was locked up in the basement, Nina was still responsible for delivering her food... What did she do to make Johann trust her again?"
Su He stroked the decoration on his walking stick, slowly dissecting the plot, and the details that were excavated by him made others feel uneasy. Qi Leren suddenly thought of a possibility. Nina had pushed the crazy lady down the stairs and caused her to miscarry. Was this really for her? Was it true that this wouldn’t kill two people? Was Nina's original intention really to help the crazy lady? What exactly did she want to do?
"The second one is Luo Xueyi. She suddenly appeared on the stairs with the hanging portrait, and died with half of Xiao Hong's body after setting on fire. She’s even more complicated than Nan Lu, and her behavior is full of metaphors and mysteries. During the period from her disappearance to her self-immolation, we likely missed a lot of her story, which led to a decline in the degree of completion. Finally, there is Dr. Flajser. Don't forget, there’s no evidence about Dr. Flajser. It's all based on subjective speculation. We must have missed some evidence that can testify against Dr. Flajser, such as the mercury powder or some hallucinogens left by him somewhere in this castle, and even more letters between him and Mr. Johann."
Qi Leren thought deeply. The clues about the first two would be hard to find, but there should still be hope of finding Dr. Flajser's things. Where could they find them? It should’ve been John's study on the second floor, but he, Dr. Lu and Nan Lu searched the study before. There should be no more clues. Could they find them now? This was the outer world after the fire. Even if there were clues, they probably…
"Go away, you still want to make a 100% clearance? Don't waste your time, just finish the task quickly." Dr. Lu grabbed Qi Leren who was still thinking and walked him down the stairs.
"Wait a minute. The keys, give me the keys for the second floor!" Qi Leren suddenly remembered something and grabbed Dr. Lu's shoulder. "No, I don't need the key. Come with me!"
"Ah? What are you doing?" Dr. Lu, who was at a loss, was pulled by Qi Leren and ran to the second floor on the broken floor.
With the memory of the layout of rooms in the castle, Qi Leren quickly found the room he was looking for. At this moment, all he could think about was what Nina had said when they went to see her for the last time: She sneaked over to the Master’s study to give him a surprise… Then she saw that the Master was looking sorrowfully at Adeline’s picture. I thought she would rush in and scream bloody murder at her husband, just like before, but she didn't.
The door opened.
In the old and dilapidated study, facing the door was the sofa where Nan Lu once sat, and a picture hanging on the wall behind the sofa. The room was not badly burned, and Johann, the handsome man in the portrait, was still faintly visible.
Qi Leren strode in. This was the only place that could have been seen by the crazy lady standing at the door.
He carefully took off the picture frame and turned it over. Sure enough, there was a photo behind the frame.
Qi Leren's heartbeat suddenly quickened. He vaguely realized that he should have found an important clue. He took a deep breath and took this photo down, turning it over to the front.
There was only one person in the photo, who looked like a young girl dressed as a maid, smiling at the camera.
"Is that Adeline?" Dr. Lu as he looked at the photo.
Qi Leren suddenly understood.
"She has another name." Qi Leren closed his eyes and recalled that girl who solemnly went to the altar of the Devil of Fraud in the cold underground palace.
"Her name is Isabel, an... excellent witch."
Adeline, the smiling maid in the photo, overlapped with Isabel, the winner of the Witchcraft Sacrifice.
This was a story about love, deception, jealousy, and madness. Everyone in the story was lost in their own desires and sins. Whether it was Johann who was fascinated by her, Sarah who was jealous of her, Nina who was incited by her, or Flajser who avenged her, she played with them like marionettes.
In just the blink of an eye, Isabel, the witch who served the Devil of Fraud, had become a witch who was good at playing with people's hearts.
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Editor’s Notes: How’s that for a twist? Next chapter we’re onto the next arc! And yes, a certain someone will be showing up again soon ;)
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dat-town · 7 years
Text
In chains of the Crown
The cast: Yan An (Pentagon) as Prince, later King Yan An Mark Tuan (Got7) as King Mark (also mentioned as Tuan Yien) Cheng Xiao (WJSN) as the female lead
Setting: historical au, royal au
Genre: romance, angst
Warnings:  violence, blood, minor character deaths, implied mature themes
Summary: Under the weight of the crown, will you break or will you bend? (Inspired by: "Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown" - Henry IV by William Shakespeare)
Word count: 14.5k
Notes: takes place in China, during the sixteen kingdoms’ times but has nothing to do with the actual history. it’s basically scenes following each other with time gaps between them because i imagine this whole thing as a historical kdrama, #sorrynotsorry. Also, long live Chinese/Taiwainese idols, they deserve more love.
I hope you love it, my dearest @restlessmaknae! Wish you the happiest B-day!♥
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There is a courtesan house deep in the forest behind the mountains of Jianfeng. It’s hidden from common eye and only exceptional people know about its existence. The place is a safe haven for girls who were left alone after the war because their own families who sold them for money or rather because they became orphans. The place is an institute as well. The inhabitants are taught vital things about the cruel world outside. They are trained to be the centre of attention: to be unearthly beautiful and talented in various fields. They are still slaves in the eyes of the society but once bought they are on a higher level. They worth plenty of gold because they ought to entertain, pleasure and practice all kind of arts: music, dance, poetry.
But unlike any other courtesan training institute, this one teaches the art of killing as well.
“Don’t worry, your Highness, she’s our best. She will take the Crown Prince’s life without a problem when the time comes,” the owner of the house claims in a loud voice, proudly. His tone is honeyed while he tries to sweet talk their newest potential client into buying their services or even better, one of the girls.
One of the courtesans of blossoming age sits in her room, listening to the conversation that’s going on in the hallways in front of her closed door. Maybe it’s on purpose as if the owner wanted her to hear it. The unique beauty with her golden locks blinks towards the dull voices, unfazed. The master of the institute has wanted to give her away ever since she came of age so it’s nothing new. But she’s still here because the price he set on her is too high, even for such a talented and gorgeous virgin. So the girl stays still and silent even though the polite form of address and the Prince’s mention piques her curiosity. Not many royals dare to set their foot into a courtesan house publicly, much less to talk about killing a prince. What Crown Prince anyway? The royal family only has the King left.
“I want to see her,” a deeper, thicker voice speaks up and the young courtesan looks up from her book when the lock of her door opens with a click.
Two tall men figure steps into her simple room. It mirrors the other courtesans’ small chamber. It has nothing more than a bed, a candle, an ink container and some books. The few dress she actually has hang in a wooden wardrobe. For work or when they have performances she gets expensive clothes to wear but just for then. She doesn’t have an income, all the money people pay for her services as a ballad singer, musician or story teller goes straight to the courtesan house’s owner because that’s how he keeps track of the costs her training caused and how much is left until she can set herself free.
The peculiar golden haired girl isn’t ashamed of the little she has but when she recognizes the King’s notorious uncle in her visitor, the colour of her rosy cheeks drains.
“Bow before His Royal Highness!” the owner orders and she does as he says. She always does as she’s told.
She sinks onto her knees, not caring about worsening the condition of her already strained dress and bows until her forehead touches the ground. It’s common courtesy in times like this, symbolizing that the slaves can never be good enough to be on one level with them. They can’t even touch their toes.  
“How old is she?” she hears the royal ask about her and she gulps, closing her eyes, fingers digging into the fabric of her skirt. She’s scared for a reason because everyone heard the gossips about the older man. He had experience with women, a lot actually and most of them included various things that weren’t for eyes of an innocent girl. What happens if he really buys her? Would he use her, hurt her and force her to kill the Crown Prince so the throne would be his heritage after all?
“Turned eighteen not long ago,” the owner answers plainly, fully aware that this is well past the age virgins are usually sold.
“Perfect. She even has the same hair colour as the King,” the royal man claims and the girl in question furrows her brows. She doesn’t understand why this detail is important enough to point out. Commoners usually don’t even know about the late king’s son’s appearance. “What do they call you, slave?”
“The Nightingale, your Highness,” she lifts her head up because being finally directly addressed allows her to do that but she keeps her gaze fixed on the floor. The name they gave her tastes sour on her tongue no matter how long she has it. She knows the meaning behind it, the bird’s beautiful song that can almost only be heard at night even if it sings during daylight, too. Does she dare to hope to be different? To be heard whenever she wants?
“How fitting,” the man clicks his tongue in a satisfied fashion and steps back, away from the slave but he still talks to her when he continues: “From this moment on, you are Cheng Xiao, Princess of the Tuan Kingdom.”
The name rings familiar in every Chinese person’s ear, recalling stories of the rebellion against the Tuan court twelve years ago. The princess was only six years old when displeased commoners attacked the palace shedding noble blood on the white marble. The Queen entrusted a maiden to help the child escape the kingdom, to raise her far away from the intrigues so she can come back when she reaches adulthood. People have been hoping for her to come home and fulfil the promise her parents made: marry the Crown Prince of Yan dynasty, end the war and create a Great United China again. But as years passed, there were no news about the youngest jewel of Tuan dynasty and the tension between the two kingdoms was worse than ever. Rumour has it that she was killed immediately during the escape. Others claim that the maiden sold her for gold. It’s just like a shot in the dark, nobody has facts, nobody knows the truth.
“The… the lost princess?” the courtesan croaks out taken aback by hearing this name and she recklessly commits the fatal crime of looking a royal straight into the eyes. Yet, the late king’s brother doesn’t seem to care, he just smirks as he stares back openly.
“Yes, we will make everybody believe you are her so you can marry in her place. If you play your part well and do as I say, you’ll live in riches for all your life and you don’t have to be a slave anymore,” he promises light-heartedly, offering her the whole wide world on a silver plate as she nervously sucks in a breathe. She’s waiting for the ‘but’ in dreadful anticipation. There’s always a ‘but’ part because nothing’s free these days and she isn’t mistaken. “If you don’t, I will personally make sure to take your pretty head.”
The Nightingale gulps, she knows she can’t afford to fail now. If they get caught by anybody, she can end up dead easily but she doesn’t have a choice, she never does. This deal at least can make it worth it. If she can become a Cheng Xiao nobody doubts. She smiles slyly at the thought, confidently. She isn’t their best for nothing after all.
 She is given two days to prepare: to pack everything she needs and to transform into somebody who can be mistaken to be a princess. Since her mission is a secret and nobody should know about it, she does everything alone. Her long, wavy golden looks already bear resemblance to the rare blondeness that runs in the Tuan family but she cuts her fringe to look similar to the late Queen who died during the attacks a decade ago. She powders the scar on her wrist and wears the dresses the rich client sent her. Each bodice, dress and cape is made of expensive silk, the purest pearls brought from the deepest part of the oceans human can reach and decorated by gold that worth more than the courtesan house with everything in it. Maybe it’s the clothes or the gossip that started not long ago about the lost princess but everybody gapes at her in awe as she steps into the carriage sent for her. Even her fellow courtesan friends believe that she’s the princess miraculously found.
“First, we are going to see the King,” her buyer declares as they approach the royal palace in Xianyang. “You don’t say a word until you’re asked. And you absolutely cannot speak about the murder we plan.”
Tuan Yien is a kind-hearted and wise king despite being only twenty-four years old. He has gotten sick with weak heart condition since the wars between the sixteen kingdoms started and the search expeditions for her sister proved to be nothing but waste of time and money. It hasn’t even crossed the courtesan’s mind that he has anything to do with the evil plan.
The plan that, if carried out well, is worse than being stabbed into the back. Because the uncle doesn’t want her to marry the other kingdom’s Crown Prince, the soon-to-be-king, just to make allies but he also wants to poison him not long after his coronation so the Tuan King and the ‘Princess’ can unite the two biggest kingdoms of China.
So it’s hard, standing in front of the King and lying to him by not saying anything. But she’s selfish enough to not want to die.
“Is she the one?” the newly-crowned young king asks stepping down from his high podium, walking closer as the thumps of his steps echo in the throne room. The Nightingale knows where she belongs in from of the monarch and she doesn’t look into his eyes even if she should act like they are siblings. No, the client would definitely not approve that bold move.
“Yes, Yien, isn’t it marvelous? Even I would believe she’s your sister if I didn’t know better,” the man’s suggestive tone sends chills down the girl’s spine. Talking about the lost princess like this? How dares he?
King Mark, who is only called by his birth name by his closest relatives and allies, doesn’t say a word. He wordlessly observes the girl brought in front of him. Someone who has the same blonde hair and fair skin the rightful princess bore when she was only six and taken away from the royal family. He wishes he would remember her better but sometimes he’s even afraid of forgetting his own parents’ faces. Yet, there’s something about this girl, maybe the way she stands tall or the golden powder is hinted over her lashes but she’s nothing like the innocent little sister that lives in his memories. However, he doesn’t voice it out loud. At least, not with several people watching their every move.
“Can you leave us alone, uncle?” he asks politely, yet there’s firmness in his tone and it’s obvious that he doesn’t take no as an answer.
“As you wish,” the older bows slightly and then leaves with a smirk hiding his offended expression.
“You, too!” the king orders his soldiers authoritatively, slightly implying that questions asked aren’t appreciated. When even the last man leaves, there’s only the two of them left. But they can never be truly alone, in the palace even the walls have ears, after all. They cannot behave around each other like they used to. Not yet.
“It’s been a long time, your Majesty,” the girl bows again with a shy smile, testing out the new name, searching for his gaze.
The skinny boy she once knew has grown up well since they last met. He was merely a teenager then but now he’s a man, leading a country, more handsome and confident than ever. She isn’t sure how she should act around him: a slave like she is legitimately or an old acquaintance?
“It has. You have gotten pretty.”
Mark’s sudden compliment makes the girl blush furiously. It’s been a time since anyone said something like this to her. And coming from the king of House Tuan, it makes it even more special. “Thank you.”
The young man takes a deep breath as he doesn’t take his eyes off of the girl as if he has been seeing a daydream and she could disappear in a blink.
“Look I know uncle plots something but if you don’t want to…”
“It’s okay,” the Nightingale does the unforgivable and cuts off the monarch. He, on the other hand, doesn’t seem to mind, he’s rather interested in what she has to say. He hangs on every word that rolls off her tongue. “I just have to marry the Crown Prince. It’s the least I can do for peace.”
There are way worse ways than marrying a prince who will be a king soon. She would have settled for worse so she’s grateful. Even if it means she would have to kill to take what hers: freedom. In times like this murder is everyday occurrence, only the reasons vary: fear, anger or greed? People have them all and sometimes they act on instinct. If they don’t die in the war, they will be stabbed in the back. They live in cruel decades and harsh times have hardened the heart like steel of those who want to stay alive.
The courtesan gulps, thinking back of her training, every step and movement of defence and attack. But she doesn’t move when the King steps into her personal space and touches her wrist lightly.
“Do you still have it?” he wonders thumb sliding across the small scar that burnt permanently in her skin. She sucks in a breathe.
“It only fades with time but doesn’t disappear.”
Just like memories. It crosses both of their minds but they don’t say it out loud. There’s no need. The I’ve missed yous are lingering in the air. The older boy clears his throat as he steps back. His voice is formal again when he speaks up.
“I hope I can see you soon.”
The cold tone makes the girl shiver but she has to play her part well.
“We will meet at the wedding, your Majesty,” she promises, yet, it feels like goodbye and those always taste bitter. Maybe that’s why both of them prolong the last moments.
Something insecure crosses the man’s face and he’s biting his lower lip nervously. A bad habit he seems unable to grow out of.
“Xiao... Should I call you that?” His voice is significantly warmer and gentler than earlier when he forms the vowels and consonant of his sister’s name.
“It would make me delighted, Yien,” the girl smiles brightly, eyes sparkled and lies don’t sour her words. She should get used to it anyway.
 According to the tradition, the bride should be carried in a sedan from her family’s house to the future husband’s. Since the distance between the two royal palaces has grown too wide, the journey takes days. Until then a messenger notifies the Yan prince that they found the princess, the one he was engaged with at an early age. Since the agreement is already made, set by the late Kings, there’s not much formality left. The wedding day can happen anytime soon.
Cheng Xiao is grateful because at least she gets to meet the groom before the ceremony. It doesn’t make her less nervous though. So when she steps out of the sedan and her gaze slides through the glamourous palace, she’s holding her breath in anticipation. And then, a boy, merely a man comes down the stairs walking over to her. First, she mistakenly thinks he’s only a servant since royals rarely do such things as greeting the arrived guests in person. However, he wears a traditional black attire with a golden dragon on it, the Yan’s symbol for their Crown Prince.
“Princess Cheng Xiao, I’m glad to have you here. Finally,” the prince bows a little and the girl does the same without saying anything. She’s still astonished by the man she should marry.
He is much younger than she’s expected him to be: an old crackled prince with dozens of wife already. Somebody ruthless and evil enough to make the kingdom starve and force every last capable man to die for him. Yet, Yan An looks like a kid with too heavy shoulders and too much responsibility on them. The sparkles in his youthful eyes are fading but with his delicate features as smooth as silk, sleek hair coal black like moonless nights and genuine smile that holds wonders, he’s still as handsome as the gossips whisper.
“The pleasure is all mine, Your Highness,” the girl bows down deeply, gripping on the edges of her breathtakingly pearl white dress.
“You must be hungry after such a long journey. You should join me on dining. Of course, we provide food for your men, too,” the prince hurries to ensure her about his hospitality.
The princess nods in gratitude and orders the soldiers who accompanied her to take a rest. She’s not afraid at all to stay alone with the Crown Prince.
He leads her farther into the gorgeous monument of building among massive towers and bright blue lakes and pastel green gardens until they reach a decorated common place with a large table and two settings. It looks like nobody else will dine with them and Cheng Xiao comes to know of the reason by the whispering maidens: there’s no other royalty in the palace, just them since his younger brother is down the southern front line and the prince has not yet married. The thought of being the first one scares her a little because then there would be nobody to hind behind, nobody to turn to with questions. On the other hand, it’s a soothing thought that probably he has never been with a woman either. Maybe the plan will be already over by the time he dares to lay a finger on her.
The dinner is quiet even though the prince is trying to broach a conversation relentlessly. He’s nothing but polite and understanding, kind and gentle, someone who would make a great king one day but maybe it’s all an act. So she stays silent.
After they are well-fed, they ought to take different paths, the new guest should explore her suite, change her travelling clothes and prepare for the night-time. But Yan An can’t seem to let her slip away without knowing:
“Are you really the princess?” he asks bluntly, chewing on the bitter taste of suspicion.
He has every right to doubt her even though it’s a dangerous thing to accuse a royal with lying. But special events require special approach. Isn’t it strange that after all these years, the princess was suddenly found now, when he’s supposed to take the throne after his father’s unexpected death. But he isn’t harsh or rude about the question and he bashfully looks away as he apologizes. “I’m sorry, I heard you were kidnapped and kept in a courtesan house. You probably still haven’t gotten over the fact that they freed you and now they practically sold you just to strengthen our allies. I understand if you hate me.”
The girl’s eyes widen in surprise. She has never expected him to genuinely care for her, about what the princess supposedly went through. She has learnt that people only care if they can use you.
So she says “No.” firmly and with all honesty.
She can’t hate somebody who seems so observant yet so naively trusting that he welcomes her in the heart of his kingdom not going back on the late Kings’ promise and not questioning the Tuans’ intentions.
“Pardon?” he looks up at her again, confused with creased forehead while his eyes bright up that she finally spoke up.
“No, your Highness, I don’t hate you,” she repeats and boldly looks straight into his almond eyes. “I feel sorry for you.”
The young prince doesn’t understand what it means. He doesn’t even suspect that she will stab him in the back or poison him the first chance she gets. The poor boy has no idea how it’s going to end for him. That the Nightingale will kill the prince once he carries the heavy weight of the crown on his head. By that time, as his first wife, the queen, it makes her kill the king.
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  They are bloody and dark times. The Great Chinese Empire on verge of falling apart. Splitting into multiple little kingdoms out of which only two had real power: the Tuan and the Yan dynasty. The two of them are having wars without end, without break, without sparing lives. When the Tuan king died a few years ago, the Yan king wanted to take advantage of the foolishly young new monarch and take over the country. Without a fair deal, King Mark refused and a new war started.
The Yan kingdom has the money but no real military force that could devour countries. The Tuans’ people on the other hand have been nothing but great soldiers without enough supplies. Both parties were struggling yet neither of them stopped this insane and meaningless battling. It was the matter of pride, it still is. So when Yan An’s father died in an accident (or who knows?), he tried to make reasonable choices, sign the peace but even his younger brother, the general thought that even without fighting, they can win if they wait until the other army weakens enough. The counsellors all supported the idea and Yan An as a new and inexperienced ruler had no say in it. He could only watch in silence as his people died.
So when he heard that the Tuans found the lost princess and they are willing to renew the marriage contract, he took the chance immediately. Because it meant the end of the war, finally the peace he yearned so much. Even if he thought it was merely a desperate attempt of the enemy to save their own people from dying of hunger, he didn’t care. Even if the princess wasn’t the real one. They just needed to become allies so together they can become the greatest kingdoms without putting a sword to each other’s neck.
They are in the middle of having breakfast when they get the news that the fights stopped at the fronts and General Sicheng is heading back to the palace. Since the coronation and the wedding both has to wait until him, the younger prince comes back, the royal court is waiting. Some think that only him who was born by the late Queen is the rightful heir of the throne while the oldest son, a bastard born out of wedlock shouldn’t claim the crown. A few counsellor hopes they can convince him to turn against his brother and lead the kingdom to victory in the Great War.
Yan An knows this, he is aware that even his people doubt his place on the throne but this is responsibility, his burden to bear. A promise he made to his father on his deathbed: he will protect his brother, everyone's favourite prince and he will let him form his own destiny instead of driving him into becoming a king too soon.
A week later, a group of soldiers arrive greeted by flowers and clapping commoners who think this means the end of the fights. Perhaps they are right or this is just a sweet delusion they cannot escape.
"Your Highness, we have heard the wonderful news. Will you really marry our enemy’s sister? Congratulations!" the second in command chimes ironically but he earns a sharp glance from the general for his disrespect.
“They are not our enemies. We merely fight over a misunderstanding. There shall be peace once they comprehend that they are wrong,” Sicheng says softly, his tone is much lighter than you’d expect from a soldier. He seems delicate and fragile, yet he’s mastered martial arts since young age to the point he can blindfoldedly defeat his master. His strategy skills are excellent and he cares for his people so he’s a perfect general just like his father has always wanted him to be.
“Brother,” he bows in front of the Crown Prince and the other man follows as Yan An acknowledges their presence in the throne room.
“How was your journey, General?” he asks politely, formally like he should no matter how much it pains him to greet his younger brother so coldly after he hasn’t seen him for so long.
“Great, thank you. How is your fiancée? Are you treating her right?”
The older boy smiles. So typically Sicheng, always worrying about the ladies. Especially, since this one will save him from having to rule. The younger has never wanted the throne and the crown to himself. His brother has always known this but being born like they did, counsellors tend to choose sides: favouring either the older but bastard son or the true-blooded but younger prince.
“She hasn’t complained yet. You can see her at lunch.” Yan An promises, his smile faltering a little as he thinks about the princess who walks the hallways pridefully and alone, not caring about dangers at all. Her quiet shyness during their meals also comes to his mind. She rarely speaks up but when she does all the attention is on her. She’s smart, she’s good at board games but doesn’t want to win. During all the time he was watching her closely, the prince has come to the conclusion that she’s watching him too. The first words they have exchanged still echo in his ears: I feel sorry for you.
“I can’t wait to meet my soon-to-be sister-in-law, our future Queen. I heard the rumours about her. They say she’s more beautiful than all the stars of the sky.”
Yan An takes a deep breath as he recalls the princess’ appearance, her fluttering lashes, the black holes of her almond eyes, those rosy cheeks and pretty, shiny lips along with the thick blonde locks framing her heart-shaped, lovely face. She can most definitely be compared with the wonders of the celestial sphere.
“She is,” he agrees and wouldn’t dare to take his words back even when Sicheng uses this against him not much later.
“Princess Xiao, you are just as beautiful as my dear brother said,” he coos as he kisses her hand when they finally get to meet. The Crown Prince catches himself blushing when the girl’s curious, dark eyes wander to his face.
 The coronation along with the wedding is held on the feast of the God of harvest. The palace is dressed in the colours of celebration: red and gold. Dragon patterns all around and the double xi character for happiness and richness. Chinese people are deeply religious people in the age of wars and death, afterlife is just as important as their life here so to hope for a better era, a great dynasty, they have to make sacrifices of all kinds in front of the statue of the gods on the marketplace. The golden temple behind them is full of royal guests and other influential people who are eager to see the new ruling couple.
One of the guests is the monarch of Tuans, King Mark himself and his delegacy. Their presence is both feared and admired. A lot of ladies gush and swoon over the famous king’s handsomeness while grieving families of dead soldiers blame him for their sufferings. However, no matter the rage and hate, to bring the ruthless war to an end is far more important for now, so nobody dares to make a move.
The ceremony is like every other, vows and speeches on the newly crowned king’s part while Cheng Xiao sits beside him in silence. Everybody in the temple bows before them, even the other king nods a little towards their direction. Yan An, now a legal King, steals a glance at his wife, the Queen and he isn’t surprised that her gaze is set on her brother and uncle instead of him. They are the family she never really knew and she will be separated from again from now on after all. He hates to think about how lonely she must feel. Surrounded by these walls and gold but all alone. Just like him.
Long ago, once he had a bird, a beautiful songbird. It was supposed to die because it fell out of the nest and broke a wing but he kept it and took care of it. He personally nursed it, fed it and helped it to learn how to fly. Yet, he cried so much when the bird finally flew away. But aren’t they all trapped birds in a golden cage? Even if he doesn't know her that well, how would he feel if she just left? Like everybody around him.
“The time has come,” as a king, he declares. “Peace is here. Thanks to my marriage with the lovely Princess… now Queen Cheng Xiao, the two greatest kingdoms of China are now allies and we will fight side by side against any shared issue of ours but not against each other.”
The guests are clapping and there’s no faking in their relieved smiles. The war is over, they can finally breathe. However, there’s always somebody who isn’t quite satisfied and while the cheering crowd tastes the fine wine, a young, reckless soldier steps forward.
“You are not worthy of that seat, bastard,” the kingdom’s own second in command protests and everybody gasps in shock. Even the guards are taken aback, not knowing what to do but they point their weapons towards him to protect the king at any suspicious movement. It doesn’t help their case that the reckless warrior is a son of a nobleman, one that respects the sacred bone very much so it doesn’t take anybody by surprise that he wants the General as the king.
“Step down, Yifan. It’s an order,” Sicheng commands despite being younger and he stands up from his seat not far from the new king and queen. He keeps his hand hidden, probably ready to strike his friend if he threatens the newfound peace.
“Sorry but for the sake of true pure blood, I can’t let him rule,” the man shakes his head but starts to walk backwards without taking his eyes off of Yan An. His cruel, crazy smile seems out of place until a swoosh sound resonates through the temple and screams fill the void.
Only inches from the king's face, his younger brother catches the flying arrow aiming to take his life. Sicheng’s often lovely face changes to the one he wears on battlefields, cold and distant, as he turns his head towards the traitor. He waves his men to stand by and not interfere while he throws away the arrow cutting his hand.
“We learned everything together. You have to be better to beat me,” he shouts after Yifan who is now in a circle of armed and masked men. One of whom tried to end the king’s life, a deadly crime.
“You two, get out of here,” the General looks at the royal couple one last time and then marches into the chaos of scared crowd with the king's soldiers to seize the traitors. The Tuan guards join him but even though their number is greatly outnumber Yifan’s, the stubborn rebel doesn’t give up. They start to fire more arrows and on cue, the royals are ushered into safety.
It doesn’t matter how fast they move, farther and farther away from the temple, Yan An stops on his tracks when he notices the abrupt halt in the light steps following him. Looking back, he sees the Princess - the Queen, he has to remind himself - calming down a crying kid and searching for his parents in the midst of tossing, sweating mess of bodies. Her tiara is halfway down as her always perfect hair is tangled and falling in front of her face. She doesn't pay attention to her surroundings so she isn't aware of the archer and his arrow pointed at her fragile figure from afar.
They don’t know each other yet and Yan An knows there’s nobody a king should die for. But he isn’t only the ruler of his kingdom but also a husband and a honourable man. He can’t just watch her die.
“Cheng Xiao,” he cries out when the bow snaps and the metal is on its way to pierce through her heart. The girl looks up, startled. Maybe because she thought he left without her or because he called her by her name for the first time but she doesn’t move and Yan An doesn’t think when he hurries to her side.
He doesn’t feel the pain at first, it hits him only when he has fallen to his knees and blood paints his coronation outfit where the arrow hit him.
“Your Majesty,” she gasps in a panicky voice and hurries to help him. She’s looking around to find the attacker but there’s nobody on the rooftops, not anymore. He has probably already fled away. “Come on, let's go,” she takes his arm and puts it around her shoulder not even giving him a chance to say no. She pulls him closer so she can help him carry his weight.
Because of the blood loss Yan An dizzily wonders how she can be so strong. While he is painfully aware that this is the closest they have ever been and what a pity that it happens like this. He’s dazed, his sight blurred and he’s sure that he has fainted a few times already when he wakes up from this nightmare.
The characteristic aroma of aloe vera and alcohol fills his nostrils but the sharp pain is gone. He feels numb yet he remembers the blood. Is he dead or dreaming? Both can be true if an angel like his wife looks at him with such saddened eyes.
“Your Majesty, you are awake! Uhm… sorry for my inappropriate behaviour but I had to cut your clothing so I can look at the wound and...” she’s rambling and takes her hands off the the herb leaves placed gently on the side of his ribcage. For somebody who should be used to being washed and dressed by maidens before rituals and ceremonies, he feels naked without the upper part of his formal attire because now, there are Cheng Xiao’s beautiful eyes on him. On his pale and weak body, one that shouldn’t be a king’s. Maybe Yifan’s right and Sicheng should rule instead. He’s more capable for sure and everyone would accept him as a rightful heir. But he’s doing this for his sake, so that his brother can have everything he can’t.
“Thank you,” he interrupts the bashful girl in a raspy voice, trying to sit up while looking around. Since he doesn’t recognise this dusty, old place, they are surely not in the palace. “Where are we?”
“In a pharmacy close to the temple. The owner helped me get you here. He’s gone to the palace to tell the General you are here,” Cheng Xiao answers putting one last layer of cream on his aching chest. Yan An exhales slowly as he watches her work.
“Where did you learned all this?” he asks curiously because he has never seen a royal know about such things.
“I wasn’t brought up as a princess, remember?” his wife reminds him with a soft smile and there’s something bittersweet in her tone. Her fingers don’t even tremble as she dress the wound and they brush against his delicate skin.
The king has to realize, again, that they don’t know each other at all. He knows it’s common with arranged marriages but he has never thought he would marry a stranger. If the princess hadn’t been lost all those years ago, they could have been raised together. They could have been friends. But what are they now?  
“You should tell me about it one day.”
“Maybe, I will,” she says but it sounds like never. Something nobody dares to tell a king. Yan An knows that he has to be an iron-handed monarch if he wants to keep his place, if he wants his people to respect him and his choices. However, he doesn’t want them to fear him and it’s an almost impossible thing to do if even his own wife doesn’t tell him the truth. Maybe he will never know who she is for real.
“You are bleeding, too,” he blurts out too lost in her pretty features while she helps him arrange the pillows behind his back. She’s so close, he can almost taste the salt of her (or maybe his) sweat and blood but her flowers scent is the strongest, enchanting him. The king finds himself mindlessly moving even closer and his thumb brushes over the tiny wound on her rosy cheek.
Cheng Xiao doesn’t move, doesn’t avert her eyes and he feels his blood burning his veins as the starry night is looking back at him.
“You stopped to help a little boy. Somebody who wasn’t even your people. Why?” he asks, curious. Pure kindness of a heart was such a rare thing to see these times but the queen seems to have this quality. Even her answers sound sincere:
“They are humans, neither my people, nor yours,” she claims, oddly believing in the power of individuals. She seems fragile but also strong at the same time, hopeful and hopeless, a mystery of full moons as he stares at her. A riddle he may never solve.
“Why did you save me?” she asks pleading, barely above a whisper yet it sounds like a cry out in the silence settled between them. It's almost hypnotic, the intimate closeness of them and maybe between their immortal souls. too.
“You are my wife now, I have to protect you,” Yan An tells her, remembering his mother, a commoner artist’s words. She believed in goodwill and people and every year on his birthday when he could see her (until death did them apart), she told him to care about those who lean on him so in need, he can also lean on them. “But you saved me, too.”
“I barely did anything. The royal physician would have done much better job,” she protests but he shakes his head because he didn’t mean it like this.
“You could have left me there, on the square, but you didn’t.”
At that the queen turns her head to the side and walks away. As she stares out of the curtained window, she looks like the goddess of moon and Yan An is already dreaming when she whispers those fateful words: “Maybe I should have.”
But oh, the stars keep her secrets so well.
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  The Tuan king isn’t happy, to say the least, that his so-called blood sister was also endangered but he keeps a straight face at dinner. Luckily the rebellion got cut short as soon as they captured the instigator but they couldn’t earn safety and peace so easily. Fear and doubt poisoned the thick blood of people.
“My sister told me you saved her life. I wanted to thank you,” Mark breaks the uncomfortable silence settled in the gardens guarded by the temples of gods and guards.
Cherry blossoms are swirling in the air as if it was a day like any other but a lot of things changed since the morning. A prince became a king, a courtesan became his queen and they saved each other’s lives.
“No need to thank me. I didn’t do it because of our ally or some hidden intention. I simply don’t want her hurt.”
He is being nothing but genuine but in times like this, full of rage and blood, being so selfless is unheard of. Especially if the person is a king. They should be ruthless, strong-willed rulers, not caring about anybody before their country and themselves. But there’s a crack in Yan An’s perfection, a flaw so fatal, his enemies could strike him in one go if they knew: he cares too much and he bonds too easily. Because he’s trusting a traitor and a killer, the one who will draw his royal blood once a new chance arises. That’s the plan, right?
King Mark glances at the girl still dressed in her formal wedding clothes and watching the tint of blush on her cheeks while her expression is lifeless. Could she be the same girl they all have heard so much about? The best pupil in that courtesan house in the desert? Could she be the same he once knew? It feels like another life and maybe it was, looking at the distance between them. It feels as vast as the deep blue oceans and he’s not sure he can sail through the wild waves to set foot on her shores.
As things are currently, he might never find out the answer because being a King doesn’t mean he’s almighty. There are a lot of things he isn’t allowed to do, his hands are tied because of profane things like diplomacy and formalities. For one, having actual emotions is a luxury for people like him. They only complicate everything. But it seems, he isn’t the only one who is affected. Both him and the new Yan king are men of emotions unlike their brutal fathers. Maybe it’s the start of a new era, a peaceful one, he hopes but he doesn’t back out on their cruel plan. It’s for his people after all, for their safety he swore to protect.
It’s hard to say whether he could consider Xiao under his custody but he was more than delighted to hear that her husband means no harm to her. It also surprised him how gentle the boy was, especially in the way he looked at her. Oh a naive, young king, he will bring doom to his own kingdom.
 It’s later that night, well after twilight when he can finally be alone. At least, almost alone since his guards are always following him in the shadows but in discrete distance. That’s all he needs because he doesn’t want anybody to disturb his conversation with the Queen of Yan kingdom. The maids before her chamber bow to him and fling the door open without question. The scene that welcomes him is dumbfounding and infuriating the least. He can see his uncle towering over the vulnerable girl ready to strike as a predator.
“I organized everything for you, but you still missed the perfect opportunity,” he growls and slaps her as quickly as a viper attacks its victims with a hit so hard, it makes her gasp. Before he could make another blow, Yien grabs his arm and twists it behind his back.
“Don’t you dare hit her again,” he snaps at him angered like a wild animal and grits his teeth, pushing his uncle away from the girl that’s supposed to be his sister. He is bitter and mad out of his mind which is certainly not good for his weak health.
The goodhearted king had no idea that it was his uncle who supported those rebels and didn’t even care about if the courtesan got hurt in the middle of the action. He even paid for them to make a chaos out of the celebration. Even better if she was targeted because then nobody would suspect that she’s his little doll. He never cared about those who are endangered, just him, only him.
“This little princess act isn’t the only thing what we got her for,” his uncle hisses and yanks his arm out of his nephew’s tight grip. His gaze is furious as if he was questioning how the younger dared to tell him off and humiliate him in front of a mere slave. Mark may be the king but his uncle has a big influence on his reign. He couldn’t just forget what he should thank him for and why he’s keeping him so close.
“No, but if he died without any other witness, everybody would suspect an attempt of dethronement. It wouldn’t help our reputation,” Yien protests calmly and shoos him away patiently like a parent would do with a child. “Patience.”
The man curses under his breath and strolls out of the suite like a madman. Neither the boy, nor the girl looks after him.
“Are you alright?” the king asks in a worried tone, stepping daringly close to examine the bruised area.
“Yes,” the courtesan answers bashfully, looking down so she could avoid saying the things she knows she shouldn’t. Like that if he didn’t come, she would have killed the older man. She wanted to slice his throat for humiliating her even if she knows she can’t. King Mark wouldn’t forgive her so easily if she did.
“He won’t stop until he gets what he wants. And now it’s Yan An’s head,” the king sighs disappointed because he spent the whole journey arguing with his uncle about the real plan he found out about. He wasn’t as stupid and naive as the older thought.
When the girl looks up at him from under her fringe, he looks so young. His blonde hair messily falling onto his forehead and his hand freezing in mid-air not sure if he should touch her or not. Would it be too inappropriate?
“Why is it so important for him?”
“Who knows? He just really wants me to unify the two kingdoms and to be honest, it would be better that way. We wouldn’t have to worry about wars anymore, at least not against an army as big as theirs,” the young man’s hand falls back to his side. “Are you sure you could do it? What he wants you to do?”
Before he could say another word, the girl moves. So quickly he can’t even react and in the next moment, there’s a sharp hairpin digging into the soft skin of his neck.
“Do you doubt me, Your Majesty?” she quirks an eyebrow, clearly not amused.
“Never, xiaojie,” he touches her cheek in endearment, fear never crossing his handsome face.
She smiles as she drops the pin and leans into his touch. “Good.”
 King Yan An hisses in pain as the clothes detaches from his body tearing the skin and opening the wound again. Even if it’s only a surface scratch, thanks to his luck, it hurts and hardly heals. The royal physician is treating his bruise severely, taking it a lot more seriously than she should but maybe it’s understandable. Now, he isn’t just another crown prince in the line for the throne, he is the ruler of their kingdom. He shouldn’t be that careless to let it happen again but he doesn’t regret saving Cheng Xiao at all. If he let her get hurt, he wouldn’t be able to look in the mirror without despising himself. What kind of man that would have made him?
“Keep an eye on her,” Lady Meiqi warns him while changing the old bandage to a clean one after applying some heady smelling cream on the damaged skin. She doesn’t have to say the name out loud, Yan An already know who she’s talking about. Is it because of the recent events or that his wife is always on his mind nowadays? Who knows?
“Why?” he asks confused. Mostly because the physician doesn’t seem like she’s worried about Cheng Xiao’s well-being. More like that she’s worried about his, that maybe he will be stabbed in the back if he’s not looking. It’s an absurd assumption, isn’t it? What would she do to him? And why? Especially after she practically saved him? What’s more, the peace is a beneficial deal for both parties. So it just doesn’t make any sense.
“Don’t underestimate her just because she’s a girl, Your Majesty,” Meiqi explains vaguely and gulps. As the physician she was there when Xuanyi bathed and dressed her to the ceremony to examine her health. She saw the map of torture on her back: constellations made of scars. It was even more suspicious that she did an excellent job with the wound on His Majesty after the arrow hit him. How did she get those ugly scars? And where did she learn medical stuff?
“She isn’t our enemy, Lady Meiqi. Don’t forget, Cheng Xiao is your queen now,” the king warns her firmly with a slight edge in his usually soft voice. It isn’t a threat but it does sound like one and the girl bows deeply.
“I am sorry, I didn’t intend to make accusations,” she apologizes heartily and adds, even knowing her head could be taken for saying this out loud: “I just think you should be careful who you trust. The Tuans has never been trustworthy.”
Yan An opens his mouth to reply but nothing comes out, his words taste like bad wine and are swallowed by the dryness of his throat. After finished patching him up, Meiqi exits the room with a final bow, leaving him completely alone with his thoughts.
 The palace is a colossus, big enough for two people to accidentally avoid each other but sooner or later, the king should meet with his legal wife especially if they didn’t consummate their marriage. They are both aware that they should soon since both kingdom is waiting for a heir, a future king to reign both lands with equal rights but Yan An busied himself with royal duties instead of husband ones. But they couldn’t keep it up forever. Weeks passed and rumours got around that the queen is always alone in her chambers. One day it even reaches the king’s ears and he’s ready to prove them wrong. Arranged marriages are always come to this point. Most of the times, sooner than later.
When he knocks on the gilded door, he’s surprised to be greeted by the queen dressed so little it’s almost obscene. He waves at the maids and guards to leave and they obey right away, pulling the door shut behind them.
Silence stretches in the spacious room as they look at each other. The king’s mouth is dry, the queen is fiddling with her clothes. Neither of them moves, not for a long time but then the girl is reaching out with her right hand, beckoning him closer. The silk robe she wears barely covers her breasts and only reaches her knees, showing off her ankles and Yan An can’t help but stare. He’s not sure how he’s still functioning when he takes her hand and let her guide him to the big, soft, baldachin bed.
“Did you...” he starts uncoolly and his breath hitches, “... know I was coming?”
Cheng Xiao looks him straight in the eye, standing up so they are only inches away. Her eyes seem blown and lips appear to be shiny and soft.
“The maidens, they told me to change. To look pretty for you.”
The king frowns bitterly, searching for her eyes.
“You are always pretty,” he says and he doesn’t lie. For him, it’s obvious just like the fact that the Sun is coming up every day. Yet, the girl looks taken aback as if she has never heard the compliment before, but she must have! A beauty like her should be showered with love.
She doesn’t answer. At least not with words as she leans closer and closer until there’s no more space between them and places her lips faintly on his. He trembles when she pulls back, catching her breath and Yan An automatically follows her body shift. It’s an entirely new sensation, something he hasn’t experience in all his life. Not even the innocent touch of lips.
Even as a prince, he has always been shy, never approaching any pretty lady while girls simply didn’t dare to approach him because of his lot higher class. He has only ever met with maids and relatives. He has never felt those sparks of flame when he looked into her eyes, his palms have never burnt to touch that honeyed skin of hers and adore her at the altar of her body. She tastes so sweet he believes he could get addicted on it, he’s already lightheaded when they fall onto the bed with a loud thud.
Cheng Xiao takes the side of his head into one hand guiding him to a better angle and Yan An couldn’t care less about the embarrassing noises he probably makes when she feels so good, so soft and warm against him. The smooth slide of their lips suddenly change into something more messy and desperate as she takes his hand into hers and places it on her bare thighs under the skirt and both of them gasps at the new feeling of hot skin on skin.
“Back then... did they force you to… you know...” Yan An’s panting barely an inch above her, searching for answers in the dark abyss of her eyes.
He’s selfish and he knows this but the thought of anybody else touching her this way makes him angry and sad. But otherwise, how could she know all this? That how and where to touch to make him all bothered? How to kiss him to take his breathe away?
“You mean to ask if I was a sex worker as a courtesan?” the girl mutters, not at all ashamed as she lies under him and receives a slight, uncertain nod as a reply. He may be the king but Yan An is just a boy, inexperienced with women, it’s pretty obvious. “They made me do a lot of things I didn’t want to do but my virgin price was too high for anyone. So no, Your Majesty, I was not.”
Everything she knows, she knows from stories of older courtesans and books a girl her age shouldn’t read under normal circumstances. But they made sure basically all her life that she was ready. However, she has always believed there would be no emotions, not even harmless fond ones.
“I’m sorry,” her husband whispers, a tight gut forming in his throat just from imagining what she had to have been through even if he didn’t know her back then.
“No need. You have every right to know,” Cheng Xiao shakes her head, her lips slightly brushing against his in the most intimate way, the puffs of her exhaled breath warming his already blushed cheeks.
“Not just that. But that you had to suffer,” the king corrects himself while stroking her jaw tentatively but oh so lovingly. “Now that you are here, I want to make sure you are happy.”
They live in such cruel times, selfless golden hearts are hardly heard of... but could it be? That the king of Yans is gentle like a cool breeze in spring? How could he rule a country then? How could she not getting weak for him?
“Why are you so kind to me?”
Don’t! You are just making it harder, she wants to scream at him from the top of her lungs but she can’t when he looks at her with those melancholic eyes.
“Because I know how it feels to be unwanted in the palace,” he says softly, genuinely and Cheng Xiao lets him kiss her everywhere, including that never-fading birthmark on her wrist.
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  Once upon a time, there was a golden haired girl. She had a tiara on her head, a brother by her side and crystal jewels all over her body making her a valuable target for any enemy. A victim or merely a show-off prey, because the more gold meant the bigger price on her head. So she was sent into hiding, waiting to reveal herself when the right times comes. But she had enough of lazing around, soon she will take back what’s hers.
 "Have you heard the gossips, Your Majesty?" Chenle pries quietly at the next big family dinner. Relatives all over the continent from different kingdoms came back to congratulate on the coronation of the new king and discuss the tasks he had in mind for them. But somewhere along the way in-between drinks and majestic meals, the conversation’s topic soon changed.
"What?" Yan An looks up from his plate searching for the eyes of his second cousin. The younger doesn’t look at him, instead he shares a meaningful look with his brother, Yukhei who continues with a nonchalant shrug:
"They say that the Tuans just bought an orphan girl to play the part. That she’s not the princess we have all been looking and waiting for."
But yes, she is. The king argues silently. For him, she’s the one he searched for and didn’t even know. She was everything he ever wanted and more, a fair queen, a sincere but lovely woman and a passionate lover. He couldn’t help but fall for her. And the more times they spent together, the more he fell.
She’s still a mystery, an enigma nobody could ever solve. She’s quiet but observant, gives him good advice about not only household matters but politics, too. But sometimes, at night, she looks like the devil disguised as an angel with that fire burning in her eyes but he keeps letting her in to share a bed.  Sometimes nothing happens, they just talk but on other nights, when the moon is out, they make love and he kisses each of her scars while telling her how beautiful she is.
"Never speak about the Queen like that, you hear me?" he fumes even though he is very well aware that the younger royal only voiced out the worry of people. They love their queen very much and maybe that’s exactly why they don’t want to acknowledge that she came from a house that led numerous wars against them. Still these kind of talks can be harmful, so Yan An would rather not have Cheng Xiao hear about these.
Since that night, the awkward tension between them has gone and been replaced by a different atmosphere. One that’s filled with fleeting touches and stolen glances.
"But... don’t you see? She has been manipulating you," Kun, one of his older relatives on a side-branch of Yan’s family tree, dares to add and everybody, even Sicheng eyes his reaction carefully. They all know what it means to have a puppet king controlled by a foreign queen. Maybe even the end of their kingdom.
“No, she hasn't,” Yan An objects and prorogue this ridiculous conversation by saying the wine tastes bad and it took away his appetite. Somewhere far away, the Tuans might smile in satisfaction because he really has no idea what they plan for him.
 As the Moon Parade is coming up, Yan An suggests going to her home kingdom for the celebrations. Lately, he has seen Cheng Xiao looking quite down, so melancholically sad, especially after she read her brother’s letters. It’s only natural that she misses him, a sibling she only got back now and also lost him to the other king pretty soon. He just wants to make his wife happy, he reasons when he announces the journey to the eastern shore and the palace physician also approves. Meiqi told him that the queen is in good enough health physically to bear a child despite having being malnourished during her teen years and the reason why she hasn’t conceived yet may be in her head. The change of atmosphere might help.
But the queen is quieter than usual as they approach the place she was born in. She has sorrowful grey nostalgia in her eyes as she stares out of the carriages’ window, looking around, mapping the scenery as if she has never seen it before. However, Yan An doesn’t doubt her, doesn’t even want to. She has been lived away for more than ten years after all, these forests must be foreign to her even if she once knew the sprouts.
“Your brother...” Yan An’s gentle voice breaks through the silence and draws her moon eyes to him. “You two are quite close, aren’t you?”
Such a strange thing to ask, some might say but in royal houses tainted by the hunger for power, brotherly love is so rare. Not to mention that in their case, the miracle of finding his little sister was quickly followed by marrying her off. It was like he only used her as a property but the loving smile she kept just for him didn’t make sense.
“Yes, we are,” she whispers into the awaiting space and unconsciously touches her wrist. Now it's covered by her dress but they have spent together enough nights for the king to know that she has an ink spot-like scar there. “As a child, we played a lot in the gardens, just running around. I looked up to him, admired him but now we are both adults and we should stop playing hide-and-seek.”
That’s what you were doing? Hiding? Yan An wonders, marvelling at the lovely frame of her face. Of course, the courtesan house is the last place anybody would have searched for her. But… did it worth it?
The king brushes a thumb over his wife’s right cheek lovingly and she instantly leans into his touch, perfectly fitting like the yin to the yang. He almost makes the mistake of asking what it was like and how they found her but now and there it isn’t the time or place for questions like this.
“We are here,” the rider announces loudly as the horses halt and they make their way out of the carriage. The peasants welcome the royal couple with cheers.
Luckily, the reception is better than expected but they walk into the glorious palace with practiced smiles. When they are offered moonflowers in honour of the feast, Yan An takes both with a fond expression on his face and turns towards this beautifully dressed wife.
“May I?” he points at her hair that’s already decorated with diamonds and golden accerssories. What could a tiny white, trivial flower add to the sight? Still, she smiles, brighter than the Sun itself and nods.
Yan An’s fingers don’t shake anymore when he touches her. Yet, his breath still hitches when their eyes meet after he’s done with placing the flowers among her locks. The adornment she treasures the most out of all the jewels she wears.
 The flowers are stepped on where they lay on the floor trashed and useless. Cheng Xiao is shoved to the ground as well while barbaric hands tear at her pretty outfit and the palace guards are nowhere to be found.
“Why can’t you just obey and do what you were ordered?” the man riots and the girl had always known that Mark’s uncle didn’t need much to snap.
Now, it seems like he certainly had enough of the games the courtesan played. Who did she think she was anyway? They had an agreement and if she didn’t keep her word and promise to fulfil her part of the deal, he might as well throw her into the dungeon she, as a slave, belongs. But he needed a plan, one that ensures that the reputation of the Tuan kingdom doesn’t get damaged. He wouldn’t want that merely because of a silly, silly girl. They can always make it seem like it was the Yans’ fault.  But at those times they lived in, even a king killing his wife wouldn’t have been obnoxious So who cares?
“You can’t even do that much! I have to take the matter into my own hands, you stupid slut. You would deserve to have your tongue cut off for your lies and that bastard you protect so much, he should have an arrow through his heart before you could break it,” he growls into her face with so much spite, it makes her nauseate. “I made sure that he will be dead by tomorrow. Then Yien will rule and I will let you rotten in the dungeons. But first I will make you watch your precious husband die. Slowly. Painfully.”
The man grabs her hair and yanks it so hard she has to grit her teeth not to scream. But she won’t because she doesn’t need help. She has never been that weak, innocent thing they thought her to be.
“You don’t get to tell me what to do!” she glares at him just like a mad goddess full of fury and he doesn’t even feel the first stab, it happens so fast. He gasps and his grip turns into a desperate hold on her shoulders as he loses his balance. Blood already coats the girl’s hand scarlet red as she twists on the fancy hairpin, another gift from Yien, deep in his chest. Every tiny flick of her hand is emphasized by a word she hopes he will remember even in the afterlife. “I. Am. Your. Queen.”
She has fire in her eyes and a soul as black as the night. She’s the warrior now they raised up in the courtesan house. She’s like the man himself wanted her to be: a ruthless killer and she has become the ruin of him.
 There’s still blood on her hands when the Tuan king finds her with a dead body at her legs. The guards following him draw their swords immediately but Mark stops them with the wave of his hand.
“I’m sorry,” Cheng Xiao looks at him pleadingly, not being able to read in his masked expression but the king calmly offers her a handkerchief. It’s white and clean. May it be the symbol of forgiveness?
“He would have never stopped,” he sighs looking over his glassy eyed uncle who has always been obsessed with the idea of their golden age. Look where it took him: defeated by a girl he dismissed.
“I know,” she agrees with a sigh and gets onto her two feet. Her left cheek is angry red where the man hit her earlier and the blow left scars across the pearl skin due to his rings. It will be so much trouble to cover it with makeup.
“You did the right thing. I don’t want war or rebellion. These previous weeks have been tranquil, we didn’t have it that way for so long,” the king says knowing fully well that his uncle worshiped chaos in the name of greatness. He would have done anything to take the throne from the Yans. No wonder why he despised the fact that the match for the marriage seemed prosperous.
Silence has never felt so odd between them before but now, they both are immersed in their own thoughts that somehow shift into the same direction.
“Will you tell him?” Yien asks and the queen knows right away that it’s not about the uncle anymore. Memories of big, bright, hopeful eyes appear in her mind and her heart threatens to break if that fond look turns into a frown. However, lately even him, the oh so loving Yan An seemed suspicious of her and he has every reason to be doubtful.
“I should. Even if it makes him hate me.”
Mark chuckles lightly.
“I don’t think that could happen. But just know that you’re always welcomed here,” he promises as generous as always but his serenity is sincere. He thinks of himself as someone who can read others well and he saw how the Yan king looked at Cheng Xiao. It would take a lot of him to push her away. Especially now.
“I have missed you,” she confesses, almost tearing up. She looks more like the 6-years-old girl that lives in his memories than a queen with cranberry red blood on her hands. Her beautiful doe eyes bore into his with the same adoration they held all those years before.
“I know. I missed you too, my little Nightingale,” he smiles at her sweetly and dips down to press a feather-like kiss to her forehead. Siblings should stick together after all, don’t they?
 Another king stands tall in an all blue outfit in front of the wide window of the shining palace. His hands are curled into fists by his side, the letter he got earlier teared apart and burnt by the candles he found in the room. Chaos would arise as soon as  its content got out and in this uncertain era, even a rumour would be enough to bring him doom. But what if it’s really nothing more than hearsay? Why should he believe somebody he has never spoken to? Well then why does he feel so unsure?
Maybe because the letter was right about a lot of things and suddenly everything makes sense. Still, he doesn’t want to believe it. Why would King Mark go through the trouble of paying for a high-level slave to marry him just to kill him? Why would he lie about his sister? But again it would explain a few things. For example, that mystery around her.
There’s no knock on the door, nor announcement, so he wouldn’t even heard the noises if he didn’t pay close attention. The girl comes from the shadows, like ghosts in old folktales but she’s real and solid like the marble she steps on.
“You are brave for coming here so boldly,” he speaks up firmly, not looking away from the window.
Nobody should disturb a king in his chambers without invitation. Nobody. So he tries to keep his tone cold but it sounds rehearsed instead. He doesn’t have to look, he has her portrayed in his head so detailed, he can literally imagine her standing in the corner in a dress fully black just as the night when there’s no moon up. Oh the irony.
Her long blonde hair falls onto her back and shoulder, the contrast so ethereal like a painting. Though, Yan An blames the gods that such beauty could even exist in human form. It’s weakening. Especially since she is here, it means the letter was right. Then why does he still has doubts?
He forces himself to stay put, accepting his fate but he has to ask that one tricky, heartbreaking question: “Are you here to kill me?”
The question takes Cheng Xiao by surprise and she almost slips. To the Hell with the slippery floors of these palaces. She tries hard not to tear her gaze away from his nostalgic form. He’s just standing there, not at all like a majestic king but a boy waiting for her next move. He doesn’t even try to defend himself or call the guards. Is it because he trusts her too much or because he’s okay with dying?
“Would you let me?” she asks fingers closing around the sin-tainted hairpin in her hand. It’s still wine red and sharp, ready to kill, yet her fingers tremble and her throat is closing in discomfort.
There’s nobody around. It would be the perfect opportunity to fulfil her original purpose but she can’t. She cannot bring herself to do it even though she did the same thing with cold-blood earlier.
Although Yan An has the answer on the of his tongue, he doesn’t reply but the slope of his shoulders goes rigid as he turn around to face the sudden visitor. There she is: oh so beautiful and more dangerous than ever.
“Why now? You could have killed me dozens of times,” the king inquires further, seemingly cannot drop the topic until he gets his own answers. He’s eager to know what happened, even if he doesn’t dare to hope that the reply will satisfy him. Especially if they only shoot questions back at each other.
“How do you know about this?” the girl furrows her brows, taking a few careful step closer, idly looking around in the majestic guest room her brother had prepared for the Yan king. Since only a handful of people knew about the plan, she wants to know who ratted them out. And what if he knows more?
“I got a letter from your uncle…” he says letting out an awkward laugh, “But he isn’t really your uncle, is he?” Yan An corrects himself quickly, back straightening. His voice is suddenly cold, formal and Xiao flinches at the unfamiliarity of it.
“What did he tell you?” she’s ignoring his question. Again, and it makes the king sigh exasperatedly. Always those damn secrets. It’s getting tiring.
“Just that you are an impostor,” he sums up the content of the letter he had read more than four times before burning it. The words engraved themselves into his brain haunting him, mocking him. They never found the real lost princess, just picked one of the girls who looked like her and paid her to play the part, the letter said and he wondered how could he love a liar?
Cheng Xiao takes a breath of air sharply at the accusation as the king watches her closely, drinking in every feature and wondering whether her smiles were genuine at all.
“Is it true?” he can hear that goddamn hope in his voice and he curses himself for being weak and love? But what if she says no and he’s being paranoid for no reason?
However, the queen has that sad look in her pretty eyes, It’s unfair, nobody should look so unearthly beautiful if they are guilty as charged.
“No,” she answers finally and looks straight into his eyes, voice steady and sure but isn’t all courtesans trained actresses, professional liars? Maybe she faked the whole thing just to trick him into loving her, getting high on her kisses and intoxicated by her scent. He’s burning in the inside to believe her but how could he? Where are the facts and proofs? And why would her uncle lie then?
“But he didn’t know,” she adds at last, answering his last silent question but the past tense makes the boy furrow his brows in suspicion.
“Where is he now?”
Despite the nonchalant look on her face, silence tells it all and it shatters into pieces when she drops the bloody pin.
“He was the one who wanted you dead, I had to,” she starts explaining when the tension becomes too much and too heavy on their chest. She isn’t that well put together queen anymore, she seems rather desperate to confess her sins. “I never really intended on killing you after I got to know you. If I did, you would be dead already. I just wanted back what I was taken away.”
“So you’re telling me that you’re the real princess but your uncle didn’t know and you went along with his crazy plan? Why would you hide in a courtesan house in the first place and why didn’t you just tell him you are the one? Why did you need me for getting back what was yours?” Yan An snaps at her, more confused than ever and he feels like yanking at his own hair in frustration. He should despise her for killing his relative since he shouldn’t love a killer after all. But it doesn’t matter at all because desperate times require desperate measures and everybody is a murderer on their own. He led a war against her kingdom that shed so much blood it could fill his bath. They are all monsters in the end.
According to King Mark, with the marriage offer they let him choose his own destiny. He could have rejected it and keep the rage and carnage going. But since he’s weak for young, pretty and innocent, his choice was obvious: he couldn’t say no to the lost and found princess who has been engaged with him since birth. He’s said to be a good man. He thinks he can save anyone but who will save him then? Will it be her?
“Once you asked me if I would tell you my story one day. I tell you now if you’re willing to listen,” she says slowly, hoping he would at least listen to her before kicking her out. He would have every right to do that and restart the war with their kingdom. Yet, he simply nods and ever so politely offers her a seat to take.
Cheng Xiao bows and sits on the sofa. Every movement of hers is tentative and respectful, with no intention to invade his place or offend him, so she doesn’t sit too close or too far. Still, it feels like they are strangers again.
“He wasn’t my uncle because I’m not the late king’s daughter,” she confesses the secret only a few people knew in the court. Affairs aren’t unusual in their class, but women keeping company for themselves seems a much more despicable thing rather than when men do the same. “But don’t worry, the queen was really my mother so it makes me a princess. I got my hair from her, Yien as well. Also, we both have a birthmark on our wrists here. That’s how he knew I’m really his sister,” she adds and to prove herself, she rolls up the sleeves of her dress to reveal her bare wrist. Even though she knows he has already seen it, he never asked what it is or why she keeps it hidden sometimes. But if it was the proof, wouldn’t it be the best to let the world see? What is she afraid of?
“I was never really lost, I was just in hiding,” the girl continues, gaze filled with nostalgia drifting afar. “When the rebellion broke out, a maid rescued me at my mother’s request. She took me to the courtesan house of Jianfeng because she knew the owner and paid him a lot of gold to keep my secret and train me. His job was to teach me how to protect myself until the time comes. So when Yien’s uncle came to get a girl to kill the Crown Prince, we knew my time is close but I couldn’t reveal myself, not until I was sure he or other traitors wouldn’t kill me if he knew the truth.”
“Why would he have done that?” Yan An suddenly interrupts her, confusion colouring his strict expression.
“Like I said: I’m not his brother’s child so I’m basically a danger to their bloodline if I claim the throne after Yien’s hopefully very far future death.”
“Alright, I get it,” the king nods and he really does but the little pieces still don’t make up the big picture. It seems too much work just to get him killed. “But... wouldn’t it have been easier to pay for an assassin to kill me rather than going through all this procedure to find somebody to marry me?”
Cheng Xiao gulps and looks at him sharply. It’s a warning look, the one that says he doesn’t want to hear the answer but he doesn’t take the question back. So she sighs.
“I think you know the answer already. If people believe that I’m pregnant with the king’s child, both kingdoms can be ruled by the Tuans.”
“Of course, it’s always about that damned crown,” the boy hisses looking wounded as if the words hurt him physically. This time, when he looks at her, he’s angrier than ever. Disappointment glowing in his eyes like never before and it’s a scary look on him. It might be the first time when the queen is afraid of him. “Did you feel anything for me or was it all just part of the plan, to bear a king's child?”
The blame burns and she retorts with equally hurtful words:
“And did you? Or you just wanted to become a king as soon as possible so you were okay with the first princess thrown at you?”
Yan An’s jaw tightens but he knows two can play this game.
“Well, somebody has to rule,” he says harshly because he won’t say sorry for doing the right thing no matter how selfish it sounds.
“And somebody has to fight for what they have,” the ex-courtesan argues, tone just as rigid.
They stare at each other, flames in their eyes, hearts beating fiercely and then the queen stands up. It happens so fast: she hears the movement of shuffling before she hears the bow’s snap and she turns, quickly like lightning and throws a small dagger, hidden under her sleeve, towards the unwanted visitor. It hits the masked figure straight in the chest and blood bubbles up from the dark haired girl’s mouth as she drops down dead. It’s been a while she had to use her skills but her aim is deathly, they used to say. It doesn’t look like it changed.
Cheng Xiao remembers the girl with glazy eyes from the courtesan house, always quiet and observant, great in archery but she also remembers the uncle’s words about making sure to end this. Of course, he didn’t do half work, he didn’t pay for only her to do the job. This is the reason why she doesn’t feel regret, only pity… and pain. A pain so awful that it makes her grasp and losing balance as her knees go out under her. It’s only then when she looks down on her own chest, staring at the dark dress getting darker and darker each passing second. The blood is like a waterfall going down, down, down and she feels like drowning.
“Xiao!” the king cries out in panic and crouches down beside her. With a hand holding her back, the other tries to suppress the bleeding from the fresh wound. “Somebody help!”
Even in the haze of pain, the girl feels warm all over. It’s not the first time he called her that but she considers herself lucky to be able to hear it again.
She coughs a little and her voice becomes raspy when she opens her mouth to speak. “They won’t come. I sent them away.”
The arrow just above her heart makes it hard for her to breathe and she’s grabbing on her chest to ease the sore but it’s like swimming against the current. Beyond reason.
“Ssh don’t talk, it’s alright. I will get help,” Yan An makes another promise he probably can’t keep but he cannot just sit and wait. He’s holding her close not wanting to let go and the frustration of his helplessness hits him hard. What’s the point of being a monarch if you can’t save those you care about?
“I love you,” Cheng Xiao forces out desperately, not to run out of time. She can barely keep her eyes open and her trembling fingers are closing around the king’s shirt as if he was her only anchor. Her blood-covered lips are quivering as she’s confessing. “You should know... It was a-all real. I loved you from the day y-you saved me. We are even now.”
She touches his face lovingly, a sad smile forming on her pretty features but instead of goosebumps, she’s only leaving bloody handprints behind.
“No. Don’t say it like you are saying goodbye,” the king, acting like a lovesick boy, can only protest and shake his head as he pulls her closer. No, it can’t be, it can’t end like this. There are still so many things left unsaid between them. “Please, don’t leave me. Not yet. I love you,” he whispers it like a prayer, kissing the words into her sweaty skin.
Maybe he has always loved her. The girl he was supposed to marry. But then he met her, the shy yet brave princess and when he fell, he fell hard. He knew it’s love when nothing could come between them anymore. When he read that letter and didn’t care who she was. For him, title doesn’t matter. She could be a queen, a courtesan or a commoner, he would love her the same.
“We are more alike than we originally thought, Your Majesty, we both have scars people can’t see,” Cheng Xiao mutters with her last breath hitting his cheek and then her lashes flutter closed. Darkness welcomes her with open arms as she loses consciousness, falling limply into the arms of the man she loved in secret but oh so dearly.
 It’s a rare sight. The two kings in the same room, silent, waiting. Everything smells like herbs, even the heady air around them and it darkens the gloomy atmosphere even more until Yien can’t take it anymore.
“How is she?” he asks quietly but with loud concern. Without their crowns, they are just two young men who gave up a lot and lost even more in the process. Neither of them is ready to lose another loved one and nothing has ever brought the two kingdoms closer than their love for the same girl.
“According to the physician, it will take time but she’ll recover,” Yan An nods towards him, momentarily looking away from the unconscious girl lying on the cosy bedding. If there wasn’t a bandage on her chest, it would look like she’s only sleeping. Or hiding like summer’s beauty, the flowers, during the harsh, ice-cold winter.
“She is a survivor,” Yien notes relieved and turns to the younger king, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Take good care of my sister or I’m going to change my mind and agree with my uncle about killing you.”
He’s talking threateningly yet it feels like he’s giving his blessing and not only as the king of his country but also, as Cheng Xiao’s brother. It makes Yan An smile.
“We will take care of each other,” he promises and doesn’t let go of her hand.
Never again.
 A year later, the Queen gives birth to a healthy son, the rightful heir of both Yan and the heirless Tuan throne. It takes almost two decades but with his reign, the era of sixteen kingdoms is coming to an end and they welcome the dawn of a new age. May it bring peace finally.
History books will remember the rule of Yan Yalun as one of the most flourishing era of China and the monument he built for his parents will make sure that people never forget: true love conquers all even under the weight of the crown.
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autumnpawtribe · 5 years
Text
Complications Part 1
Vol'raka was sitting with Tarja, Zakin and Aret, the Zandalari beauty reading to their daughter.  It was a story about a little boy that wanted to be a shadow hunter, and his adventures to find someone to teach him.  Zakin was listening aptly, the four year old enamored by his uncle and "cousin".  The pale skinned, slightly more than fuzzy boy was laying on his belly, arms propped up on the floor and holding his head up to listen.  Tarja was laying on a blanket next to him, getting time on her stomach and learning to hold her head up and gain her strength.  Vol was proud of his daughter and how fast she was growing.  She already had an attitude and fire in her belly that came with it.  He smiled as he went back to balancing his books, them working on his breeding stock, planning a new generation of riding raptors that he sold for a mint.
The renovations to the house, even with haggling, cost a bit.  Vol didn't eat into his profits however.  He did cash in a few 'loans', but nothing terrible.  People owed him money, so he sought it back.  Nature of business.   He'd gone from bounty Hunter to business man in a year, using that shrewd hunting ability and knowledge of raptor genetics to make a killing.  He didn't just let his farm hands take the reins and while he spent a bit of time away, it was only usually for the day and he was always home for supper.
Xiao and Naddja were to cook that night, simple Pandaren fare.  He'd cook breakfast before he trained with his mates, knowing he needed to keep this skills sharp as a blade for what he would need to do in the coming days.
Naddja had come back from Halfhill earlier than expected, groceries filling her goat cart.  She was happier with her life, even if she had a guard every time she left the grounds.  She was under Vol's care and protection.  He took that seriously and that meant someone was with her on her weekly trip for supplies.  A friend of Vol's from his bounty hunting days was keeping an eye on Mala'ket and Jansevet, both looking for the missing siblings.  Vol would take care of that pesky problem later.  For now, she was content as the rest, her stress level gone down with the peace, and her belly growing with the child they had to make sure Mala'ket never knew of.  It was another daughter.  Naddja planned on keeping this child and not telling the sire, ever.  Vol didn't agree with that, but he didn't agree with the whole situation either.
Zakin heard the goat cart and stood up, running out he door where farm hands were unloading feed, groceries, cloth and other supplies from Halfhill.  He ran to his mother's arms, talking her ear off about the story his uncle had told him, the Zandalari woman smiling as she picked him up.  "You had a good day.  Is your Uncle Vol'raka around?."
"He is in his office.  He balances the books today." Aret came out with Tarja on his shoulder, the little girl babbling and wiggling her toes.   She had added this to her repertoire in the last few days and it had been her newest favorite activity.  "I hope carrots were on the list?"
"Plenty of carrots.  When it is your turn for dinner, Mon'dazi?". She smiled at her brother and put down Zakin who saw a new Pandaren friend of his and went to play.  "He in a good mood?  I want to speak with him, about things."
Aret turned to look into the house.  "Seems so.  The talk we talked about?". She nodded.  Aret sighed, looking to his sister.  "There is chocolate in the kitchen in a green jar.  Take a few pieces as a peace offering.  It contains...  Something he likes."
"What...". Naddja looked confused. She'd seen the jar but was told to stay out of it.
"It's laced with his shaman's herbs.  He knows it and it might make him amicable?"
"You know I can hear you two, right?". Vol walked down the stairs and smiled.  "We'll talk, but no chocolate, sweetheart."  He stood behind Aret, kissed his neck, made the Prelate shiver before he kissed their daughter.  "We'll go for a ride, Naddja.  Come."
"Dinner is soon...". Aret was confused, but quieted.  He pressed his head forward and kissed Vol's chin in submission.
Vol kissed Janaret’s lips softly, clicking tusks as he tugged on the Prelate's braid.  This was their way, submission in softness, gentleness.  Aret wouldn't go against him, but he was allowed a mind of his own.  Vol used a knuckle to raise the Zandalari's chin, whispering his love against his lips.  "Not upset, sweetheart, and we'll be home for dinner.  We have a few hours and a fence that might need mending.". He kissed Aret again.  "Ask Xiao for egg rolls and fried rice too?  We'll be back soon. Naddja, I know you prefer the raptor form, but I'll loan you a raptor.".
She nodded, following the big Darkspear out to the stable.  Vol saddled Uba, his elderly white raptor while Naddja was given a raptor he called Disi.  They said nothing for a while as they rode out along the fence, Naddja looking at the fields.  "Have you had this all since... Before.."
"No, I hunted people for my gold.  Most of this is thanks to Xiao, half is his.  Aret will have a stake, as will Tarja."
Naddja nodded, looking over at the tallest of the trolls that She had seen, anywhere really.  He looked like Mala'ket, who was not quite as tall as her brother, but the thick green mane, the blue skin, all but the eyes.  Their daughter, well the child she birthed, had gotten those eyes, the shape different, more round and big, bright and curious than her sire's almond, but that same unusually bright amber shining in both eyes.  The little girl had inherited the grass green, and sun gold, but Naddja had seen the blue that also graced what little hair Tarja had.  It was one of the few things she had given her, her mother's hair having the same strands of sapphire in her greying hair.  She thought she had picked well when she sought out Vol'raka.  She didn't know his preference for men when he was drugged, asleep and on his back.  He was hard, she was a druid and the deed was done.  She blushed with guilt at the memory.  She felt terrible after the fact, still did.
He had not forgiven her, but yet he was kind enough to protect her from the troll who was hurting her.  He was good enough to take in a child he did not want, yet loved anyway.  She saw that in his eyes when he danced around the kitchen with her.  When He spent time with Xiao and Aret and Tarja as a little family, walking through the mango trees, or cooking, or when they put her to bed at night.  She knew he hurt him, yet he still did good thing for her and her son.  Her mind shamed her, even if she was made to do what she did.
"How old were you with Zakin.  You are younger than Janaret.  The boy is around four years."  Vol broke the silence as they moved along the fence, a cracked post in the far distance, Pandaren and human workers moving the yaks from that pasture to another as they slowly approached.
"Fifteen."
"This Mala'ket is not his father, obviously.  Did you do the same to his f..."
"I LOVED his father!"  Naddja snapped at him before shrinking back.  He made no move to warn her, but listened, raising an eyebrow.  "... past tense.  I don't know where he is.  He was Frostmane, visiting Dazar’alor.  Most are exiled, but he came with a group of Gurubashi.  He.."  She stopped, looking forward over her mount's nose.  "You don't care."
"I might.  I am listening.  I could have told you to go fuck yourself.  I came out here to listen.  No Xiao, no Aret.  If we are going to live under the same roof, we'd better talk at some point.  So.. you loved him, frostie ass was in Zandalar, which I would bet he was a slave.  So you don't know where he is because of that."
"I knew where he was.  When.. I had Zakin, he was there.  We were planning to run, with the help of a sympathetic relative of mine.  My father returned from his work with General Jakrazet before we were able to leave.  He had been gone nearly a year.  Sirak was sent away, violently, and I was quickly married off to Mala'ket and my son sent away.  Mala'ket sent his last wife off to Vol'dun for infertility.  She was not the infertile one."
"And you don't just fuck off out of his life... why?"  Vol stopped in the path, pulling Uba up and looking Naddja dead in the eye.  Disi was a taller raptor, making the smaller woman at his eye level.  Amber eyes stared at the blue that one of his lovers shared.  "You had the balls to drug me, in front of another druid no less, and do what you did, but you didn't just leave him."  Vol's tone was accusatory, still hurt over the deception.  "Fuck, you could have just slept with Jura.  He's taken far more than one woman to his bed.  Instead of pulling the shit you have, Naddja."  The hunter growled, but took a deep breath to calm himself.  "And now you are going to let another one go without knowing he has fathered a child, same as you would have to me.  If it were not for the fact that you had a tiny bit of fucking compassion and loa-damned sense, my daughter would have been DEAD as soon as he figured out that 'huh, that's a Darkspear-born, NOT Zandalari.  Apparently I look like this fuck, but Darkspear look a bit fuckin' different than a Zandalari, Naddja Raptari.  And I have more fucking compassion than is fuckin' good for me to take you in.  Fortunately for you, I will not let the one who gave birth to my child..."
"Our.."
There was a deep growl of warning then before he shoved a long finger into her face.  "MY Daughter.  Xiao's, Aret's daughter.  NOT yours.  you gave birth to her, that is it.  Last Warning.  Never refer to her as ANYTHING more than your niece again.  I am not a cruel asshole, but I will not tolerate it again.  Understood?  I want to keep this conversation a bit civil, but it will cease to be if you speak it again.  Get it out of your head now.  I want to hear it.  Your lips to my words, on the threat of the wrath of both our Loa.  Say it."
Naddja backed up, shrinking back and this time, he didn't give two shits.  She lowered her head, whispering.  "Not..."
"So you can be heard."  Aret and Xiao would know that tone and the power behind it.  "Loud and Fucking clear."
"Tarja is not my daughter.  She is yours."
"Good.  Now.  You are going to explain to me WHY you haven't left this soft cocked asshole that I am apparently going to have to deal with and you will tell me EVERY weakness, and all of his business.  If you don't, I can't keep you, your son, or my daughter and future children safe from these two fuckwits.  I have a very real worry that they could come lookin' and actually be able to find this place.  So out with it.  Start with the whys."
"Why..."
Naddja sighed, looking down and not making eye contact with the Darkspear.  Blue eyes stared into the ground, unwilling to look up at all at the hunter.  Her skin turned to a pale lavender, not rivaling her brother's coloring.  The hunter smelled the guilt and sorrow.  She was not going to ante up what Vol wanted and needed to know.  He knew better than to chase a cowering animal.  This was not for food and he didn't need the sport of antagonizing someone who'd had enough pain lately.  He still had that stupid bit of compassion for others that were hurt, even if they hurt him.
Vol'raka sighed and shook his head, green braid swinging behind him and nudged Uba with his heals.  "Keep up!"  He was agitated and a good run, even if it was on an ancient beast, helped clear his mind.  The raptari got to see the Darkspear in one of his elements, on the back of the animals he had raised for the last ten years.  Clad in leather pants and a short sleeved cloth shirt, the raptor tender rode bareback with his knees holding on the ribcage of the once-golden, now pale white raptor as he raced down the side of the fence.  Vol was leaned over the raptor's neck, encouraging the old female to run as fast as she could.  He had his loves, responsibilities, cares in the world, but she could tell that this was one of his freedoms away from the world.
Naddja and Vol had not spoken much in the last few weeks, avoiding each other unless it was for the meal that the family had together.  She remembered that baby face she had 'helped' get drunk nearly a year ago, and he'd aged a bit.  Two mates that he loved beyond all things, the daughter he never planned for yet doted on and adored, and now taking in more to his life.  He watched him as he woke early to care for his flock and farm, spend the day doing what needed done.  She heard the soft cries of pleasure in the night as two, sometimes three came together in love.  He kept up what he needed to do, working hard in the days, loving and spending time with his family in the evenings.  Sometimes he was asleep far before others in the house, but he was busting his ass, and she acknowledged that.  She didn't need to speak to him to observe him, to sense the stresses in his life.  Yet she could tell, as much as he loved what he had, on the back of a raptor, he ran free for a little while.
Naddja kicked her own raptor forward, the animal bigger than her own raptor form and slower, but the raptari able to ride almost as well.  It took a few minutes to catch up, but they were within a few yards of each other when they came to the place where the fence was broken.  Vol said nothing to her as he got down with the one she recognized as his right hand, Jung, and discussed what happened.  They spoke in Orcish, thick accents not getting in the way as troll and pandaren inspected the fence where they believed a young yak ran headlong into the post.  It was not a large break, but they made plans on the repair before setting to work in silence.  She hopped down from Disi's back and shifted, her own raptor form letting her blend in with the flock on the other side of the lane.  She'd done this before with the flock, finding that they trusted her, animals did usually trust druids, and they welcomed both her, Disi and Uba quietly and with no fuss.  She spent the hour that it took for them to repair the break just wandering in with the flock of females, playing with hatchlings and chasing critters around the enclosure.
"Naddja."
The raptari looked up to see nine feet of Darkspear walking through his flock to where she was tearing up a large brown tanuki, half of its fur gone as she shared it with hatchlings.  "I'm sorry I snapped.  I'm sorry that I demanded."  The Darkspear was not tucking his tail between his legs, but he was calming down to where he was not as irritable.  "Let's finish that ride?  I don't think you can talk in that form, so when you are ready."
Vol wandered back to the fence, scratching a few of the females he kept under the chin as they approached, the big male that guarded them headbutting the raptor tender gently.  The dark green and black colored male had a scar across his belly, obviously nearly gutted.  Aret had told her the story of a raptor that the hunter had saved from death, the animal now a loyal and protective hunting partner.  She reached out to the big male, who looked at her as she communicated with the hunting animal, the raptor only saying quietly that he'd been saved from death, he had no reason to fight the troll anymore.
The big beast of a raptor wandered over to where Vol stood, headbutting the troll in the shoulder and rubbing his jowl on the hunter's head.  It looked almost like a cat rubbing on his owner, making the raptor tender laugh as he gave a good scratch on the animal's chest.  One hand giving the raptor a scratch and the other patting his shoulder, the animal whistled happily and Naddja could see the connection between Master and pet.  It made her smile when troll and raptor ran around, the beast chasing the hunter and then turning around and running from the hunter.  The members of Vol's flock that were paying attention began playing the game as well. the troll eventually chasing a few hatchings and picking them up and then encouraging them to chase him.  None of the animals got aggressive, nor did the troll get sliced or bit as he played with some very dangerous animals.
About 20 minutes after he started his game with the green and black male, Vol gave final treats and pats, wandering to Uba, taking her by the bridle.  He sat tall on the back of his mount, smiling at Naddja, who shifted and silently hopped back up on her saddled raptor.  "There is a waterfall, few miles.  Good slow ride, then back and we should be home for dinner?"
She nodded, following the hunter and letting the two raptors plod along down the path.  It was quiet for a while, Vol keeping his gaze forward, and Naddja silent.  She finally broke the silence and whispered, loud enough that troll ears could hear, almost sighing painfully as she spoke.
"Aret is the oldest, Then me, and our younger sister Nielka.  Our Mother, Pahre, tried to protect us.  Our father is not a nice mon, very traditional.  Daughters, women are property in his eyes.  Janaret would be the golden child, but Father treated him just as badly.  Arie was brainwashed.  I.. I think Father assumes something is different about him.  I don't think he really knows he likes other males.  He had him pretty well indoctrinated.  Almost at least.  Mother worked hard when father was away with General Jizz-stain and exiling anyone who was determined to not be fit to stay in Zul'dazar.  He'd send Janaret to the same if he knew.  Arie is a good guard, a well schooled Prelate for Rezan..  even if Rezan is dead now.  It wouldn't matter because then father would marry him off to some girl for politcal gain.   That is what happened to me.  They didn't even wait until I was of age.  I was married to Mala'ket at sixteen, as soon as they could get rid of Zakin, they did, and Aket wanted his own children.  I know father knows that Aket can't father children, but Aket is an acolyte in Zanchul and has clout.  When they sent me out to find.. well.. you...  I was covered in bruises for telling them no.  They gave me the potion, said find someone close and ... well."  She sighed, leaning forward, Disi grunting at the balance change, but ignoring it.
"They have a girl for Arie to marry too, named Javinda.  She's stupid.  The shit your people shovel in the stables has more of an intellect than this girl.  Her family serves the Zanchuli council and she's pretty.  That's her qualification for being Aret's wife-to-be.  And I don't think he knows yet.  And they are looking for a mate for Nienie.  She's barely twelve.  There is no love in my marriage to Mala'ket.  This child will never know her father because it's Aket's cousin.   I cannot take the chance.  Don't judge me for it.  Aket would have STARVED Tarja to death.  Not made it quick.. painless.  He would have put her in a box and let her cry herself to DEATH because she was even an inkling of Darkspear, or Amani.  I smell just as well as you do.  You have Zandalarii blood, but you are Darkspear and that makes her lesser to him.  He could not have that.  I did the same to his cousin, because they look nearly alike, but I fear Venko would let it slip.  Mala'ket lives, and Venko never meets his child."
She covered her face, trying to hide tears that he could smell, but he had the good grace to not say anything.  "Aket thinks I birthed her and smashed her head with a rock.  I.. I couldn't do it.  She is not my daughter..  Yet I love her, I would have loved her and protected her because at one point.. she was."
Vol stopped, grabbing Disi by the bridle and stopping the raptor, bringing her and her rider closer.  "You did protect her.  She can no longer be your daughter, but she can be your niece.  You protected her from death.  You brought her to safety.  I don't like the reasons, nor the means Naddja, but you acted as a mother and protected a baby.  She is safe, with three fathers who will kill for her.  She is in no danger from anything with us.  It hurts me to know what has been done has been done again, and I mean to stop this whole shit show.  Aret will not be marrying anyone but me and Xiao in the next few months.  Your sister should not be marrying anyone at her age.  You all three should be happy."
The hunter pondered, letting Disi go and the raptor dancing a bit as Vol patted Naddja's knee.  "Where is your mother in all of this?"
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huijumjkk-blog · 5 years
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Devil King JVC-FW10000
JVC is a Japanese consumer and professional electronics company. It is one of the few manufacturers in the world that can fully produce professional equipment for broadcast TV/application TV. JVC is a company with orthodox music as its foundation. The products produced are mostly high-end products. As long as you have used JVC wood diaphragm headphones, you will know what is black technology, his unique tuning technology, and wood. The natural nature of the diaphragm itself is not comparable to many headphones. Click here Many professional musical instruments are derived from wood, and JVC always has a relationship with wood. I think this is also a strong manufacturer's heritage of traditional natural materials and challenges and innovations for more technology. It is also where many of our domestic brands should learn.
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In the ten years since the first wooden diaphragm unit earphone HP-FX500, JVC has successively launched FX700, FX1200, FW001, FW002, FW003, and other well-received wooden diaphragm unit earplug products, which laid the JVC in the earphone enthusiasts. The status in mind. There is really a kind of wooden diaphragm earplug that first comes to mind the feeling of JVC. Of course, the name of "outside black technology" is more and more resounding at home and abroad.
JVC has always been working hard, not only in the wood diaphragm headset industry to achieve the ultimate but also in other aspects is constantly breaking, there are completely different styles of King Kong and Xiao King Kong, FD01 is the best example, FD01 is relatively biased Analytical and medium-high frequency display. The sound field is not too big, but it is also relatively complete. The interchangeable catheter changes the tone color to a certain extent. It is also very difficult to take care of fans who have different needs.
Ok, let's get to the point where we are today's protagonist JVC-FW10000, another "Devil".
The devil king JVC-FW10000 is JVC's latest flagship headset, and it is also a great show in this 2019VGP selection. JVC-FW10000 won the 2019VGP Development Award and the high price gold prize of 150,000 yen - 200,000 yen! This is also the affirmation and the most straightforward award for the JVC brand.
I was amazed at the black whirlwind of the HiFi headset, the Devil's HA-FW10000. In order to commemorate the 10th anniversary of the release of the first wooden diaphragm unit earphone, JVC recently launched the new wooden diaphragm unit flagship earplug HA-FW10000. It really feels like a black whirlwind, which is a bit shocking and surprising.
When I participated in the headset exhibition, I saw the Devils Headphones. What did everyone think at the time? I have a long queue, waiting to hear the legendary headphone demon JVC-FW10000, I thought it would be natural to make a souvenir. After watching it for a long time, I realized that I was listening to the demon king, and my heart was also a second, bloody. Ok, I can also listen to it, this legendary, like the flagship small earplugs at the monster level.
JVC headphones have created a "wood diaphragm" earphone, and it is also the exclusive manufacturer of wood diaphragm headphones on the market. Today's new HA-FW10000 flagship earplugs will be a strong stroke in the history of wood diaphragm earplugs, let the headset industry remember its position so that fans are more ecstatic to see it.
The Devil's headphone case is hand-made using Japanese native craftsmanship. It is a high-hardness paint finish on the instrument level, and the texture is a very low-key luxury. The cavity shape is similar to that of the FW002 model, but this time the JVC removes the MMCX female seat fixed to the cavity but is fixed to the outside of the cavity by a metal arm. Avoid the acoustic structure of the MMCX female damage chamber to affect the sound quality.
The catheter seat portion of the Devil's Headphones is made of stainless steel, and the technology of its patented "spiral-pit" earbuds is applied inside the catheter holder to eliminate unnecessary vibration and improve resolution. The Devil's Headphones feature a new moving coil unit that uses the same mix of different materials as many other high-end earbuds. The top part of the treble ball is made of birch wood into a sheet of only 50 μm thick, and the outer ring is made of carbon-coated PET material with a total diameter of 11 mm.
The material used in the earphone cord section is also very particular. It uses silk wrap to provide excellent shielding performance, a structure that completely separates the left and right channels, a 4N oxygen-free copper core, and an ultra-thick gold-plated plug. The Devil's headphone case does not use the JVC logo, but instead uses the Victor logo that was used before the merger with Kenwood, which is more representative of inheritance.
I share the simple sense of hearing: such a high-end earplug product, I really don't want to take a few strokes, but I don't have a strong vocabulary, so that the listening sound of this product is on the paper, but I Express a few words about the most basic respect for the product and the appreciation of the heart. I don't have the feeling of listening to one ear. Although I am used to high-end headphones, I still have more piousness when I listen to these new works from these manufacturers. I didn't feel much in one ear, maybe I didn't enter the state. After a while, there was a powerful force from my ear canal to the eardrum, reaching my body and mind. I think I was shocked. Its small size, really has infinite ability to interpret, the perfection of the sound I want to hear.
The devil's taste not only makes all kinds of violins shine but also allows the Tchaikovsky violin concerto to linger in your heart. The sound is more beautiful, the lazy and magnetic sound, the mature and feminine female voice, ignite the deep feelings in the soul at any time, let the time back in the graceful music, let the music and emotions blend perfectly. I really want to go back, if there is a little brother who wants to listen, I am afraid I will not want to go.
Under the black technology hardware that is true to the earphones, JVC has been understanding the sound for 90 years. No matter how the demon king HA-FW10000 can give you the sound you want, you can truly live up to the flagship name. The devil is also the winner of the king of the 2019VGP earplugs.
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quazartranslates · 3 years
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Welcome to the Nightmare Game - CH95
**This is an edited machine translation. For more information, please [click here]**
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Chapter 95: Castle Cry (XXII)
After leaving the room, the three walked silently through the corridor until Dr. Lu asked, "Where are we going now?"
"To the last sacrifice. What other places haven’t been explored yet on the second and third floors?" Su He asked.
"There’s several rooms we haven’t been in," Dr. Lu answered.
"Let’s just go there and have a look," Su He said.
Qi Leren is still thinking about Nina. She seems to regard everyone as a good person and blame herself for this tragedy, but ironically, perhaps she was the most innocent person in this story - at least her original intentions were good.
"Do you think that Mrs. Sarah's madness was caused by Dr. Flajser?" Qi Leren asked.
"Er... This can't be judged yet, but it looks quite like that," Dr. Lu said, touching his chin. "From the rules of horror stories, Dr. Flajser being the puppet master behind everything sounds much more interesting than the story of a simple lady who went crazy because of love."
"Don't be too obsessed with exploring who’s behind the scenes. Some tasks will have many plausible possibilities. Different players will have different opinions and will disagree," Su He said.
"That's true, hey, how much have we completed now?" Dr. Lu asked.
“75%,” Su He told them.
"It seems that the plot has advanced a lot. It should be that each demon sacrifice found has a fixed completion value, and some important events and discoveries have a fixed completion value. Is this how it’s calculated?" Dr. Lu asked again.
Su He nodded with a smile, but did not speak.
"That..." Dr. Lu asked again.
"If it is not convenient to answer, don't say it," Qi Leren interrupted.
Dr. Lu gave a long cry: "Right, then I'd better not ask."
By this time, the three people had walked out of the corridor with the magnificent hall ahead of them, the huge crystal chandelier lit, and bright light on the ground, which set off the magnificent glory of the castle.
A slender figure stood on the platform above the curved corridor, with long silky black hair and a gorgeous and elegant dress. Xiao Hong's bloody body at her feet made her calm and collected appearance become eerie. She stood under the hanging frame of the family portrait, admiring it with her hands behind her back. It seemed as if she heard the footsteps below. She slowly turned around and looked at them on the ground floor.
Luo Xueyi, wearing the same dress as the crazy lady in the portrait, said with a sigh: "Ah, you have come."
Under the dazzling crystal chandelier, standing on the platform, she looks like a nun who was about to sing songs for the gods, with lowered eyes and dignified expression.
Qi Leren stepped forward and asked, "Who are you?"
Luo Xueyi smiled mysteriously: "I am the ghost who killed Adeline. I am the countless betrayals that Sarah has noticed from the details, and the jealousy that will never burn out in her heart. I am her. Look, she is burning..."
With her sighing voice, waves of flames welled up under her feet. In the dazzling light, she smiled at them without pain and closed her eyes. The flames were like a lotus flower, which bloomed quietly in the sinful night and devoured Luo Xueyi's body. By the time Qi Leren rushed up the stairs to save her, she had turned into a mass of ashes, together with the dead half-body left at her feet.
The burnt floor was blackened, and Qi Leren stood for a while. Dr. Lu and Su He had already come up.
"What did she really want to do? Why did she suddenly self-immolate?" Qi Leren was completely confused.
Su He stood aside, thought for a moment, and pointed to the ashes on the ground with his cane: "These ashes may be of some use."
Qi Leren sighed and bent down to pick them up. Before his hand touched the ashes, it was lifted by Su He's cane: "Don't use your hands."
"Ah?"
Su He lifted a small amount of ashes with his cane, and the black and gray powder rose up and crackled in the air. A fire appeared out of thin air and disappeared into thin air in a few seconds.
"Don't be careless, these are no ordinary ashes. They should be an item for the boss. Well, has this copy finally remembered that it’s D-level difficulty? It’s quite generous. Miss Luo Xueyi probably came to give the item in person," Su He said, smiling.
Qi Leren and Dr. Lu couldn't help but squint at the ashes on the ground. In fact, normal people couldn't think of the use of such a thing.
"I was worried that Luo Xueyi and Nan Lu would merge into one for the final battle. Now it seems that it won’t be so difficult," Su He was glad to say.
Qi Leren imagined such a scene and couldn't help shivering: "Thank God, fortunately not."
"Luo Xueyi’s words, just what is the meaning of that sentence? I always felt that she had no deep meaning until now." Dr. Lu recalled the words before Luo Xueyi set herself on fire, and felt that they seemed to have great implications.
"It should be some kind of metaphor and hint. It’s also because of her words that I think there’s something wrong with the ashes left by her," Su He said. "When Luo Xueyi and Nan Lu confronted each other, she said that she was Sarah. I’m inclined to think she was telling the truth, but there is a difference between the two 'Sarahs'. Luo Xueyi's Sarah is a calm and pure evil persona, just like the Sarah who murdered Adeline. She was not crazy, but was calm and knew what she was doing, just like when she killed Nina. But Mrs. Sarah of Nan Lu is more like a kind of crazy jealousy over love. It can be said that Luo Xueyi's Sarah is a personality different from Nan Lu's Sarah. She knows of John's betrayal. Because of this jealousy and hatred, Luo Xueyi's Sarah appeared."
I thought she would rush in and scream bloody murder at her husband, just like before, but she didn't. She turned to me... She was so angry, but she was so calm, I suddenly felt that she was really crazy at this time…
Nina's words once again appeared in Qi Leren's mind. At that time, Sarah was completely controlled by the evil thoughts of jealousy, so why would she kill Nina for the sacrifice?
"Are you saying that Mrs. Sarah actually has multiple personalities?" Dr. Lu asked cheerfully.
"To some extent, it can be explained this way, but this story is not a horror story with multiple personalities. I think it is only because Mrs. Sarah was influenced by the power of the Devil after that this task was polluted, so she became more and more crazy and horrible. But where on earth did she learn such an evil way of offering sacrifices? This is also a problem," Su He said.
"Ah, the water is so deep," Dr. Lu shook his head.
Qi Leren went to the kitchen to find cleaning tools - before he went, he was asked by Su He to bring some oil back - and carefully swept the ashes into the dustpan, and then put them away with great care. It was possible that he would have to rely on these things to save his life in the end.
The three men then continued to gather clues. They found nothing more on the second floor, but something on the third floor.
"This seems to be a bedroom! But the door isn’t locked!" Dr. Lu, who was opening the doors from room to room, turned back and shouted to the two men.
The room faintly carried the Devil’s energy, but it was not very strong. It seemed like an illusion. Qi Leren strode in and rummaged around with Dr. Lu in the bedroom, but found nothing useful. The wardrobe’s door was not tightly closed, and it was full of crazy lady's clothes.
"Since this door is unlocked, could it be that someone has been here before? Were Luo Xueyi’s and Nan Lu’s dresses taken from here?" Qi Leren asked, recalling the crazy lady's dress Luo Xueyi wore.
"It's possible. The wardrobe door isn’t closed now, so it's a bit suspicious." Dr. Lu and Qi Leren studied a bunch of the woman's clothes.
Dr. Lu also proposed to find Johann's clothes to wear. Maybe the crazy lady would lose without fighting if she thought she was despised by Qi Leren: "What if the boss runs away?"
"Anyway, if you’re the one playing him, I’m not worried," Dr. Lu said innocently.
Qi Leren said combatively: "Believe it or not, I’ll use you as a shield!"
"No, you wouldn't!" Dr. Lu was really scared and refused with a face of fear.
Su He, who was standing by the door, also came in and walked around, asking, "Where’s the dressing table mirror?"
"Ah?" "Oh right, where's the mirror?" Dr. Lu and Qi Leren, who were playing games, didn't notice this detail. Now they finally felt something was wrong. There was no mirror on the dressing table, which was totally unreasonable.
Why was there no mirror? Qi Leren looked at the dressing table and thought.
Was it that since the crazy lady was disfigured, she couldn't look at herself in the mirror, or what would be reflected in the mirror… Was that why she put away the mirror?
"Let me see." Dr. Lu went to the dressing table, opened the drawer, and threw things out one by one. He fumbled and knocked around and finally found that there was a hidden compartment in the drawer.
At the moment when the secret compartment was opened, Qi Leren obviously felt that the Devil’s power had become thick. Dr. Lu found an iron box inside and said excitedly, "Sure enough!"
[Obtained the Devil's Sacrifice 6/6]
The tin box was opened, and inside the box were cut nails.
"Your love bird has flown away from you. Do you want it to stay on your shoulder forever?" In front of the mirror, which emitted deep and remote cold green light, the crazy lady simply sat. Her gaunt face was reflected strangely in the dressing mirror, and that face poured out attractive words in a bewitching voice.
It was an irresistible temptation for her.
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