The scene continued to escalate as Zhen Xue spotted his father storming down the staircase in a state of fury.

He looked even more mad than the last time Zhen Xue stepped out of line. As though sensing his urgency to get away, the silver masked man appeared by his side, taking his arm to usher him towards another entrance. When they reach the threshold, the man gave him an extra push. “Go,” he encouraged softly. “We’ll finish things here.”

His escape was right ahead, but he hesitated. Their relationship had only been business, but knowing he won’t see Apollo or Boreas again, nor this mysterious benefactor, brought a wave of sadness that kept his feet planted to the floor.

His hesitation made the silver masked man smile faintly. “Our paths will cross again,” he said with some comfort. “As for the others... should the time come when you need their help, they will be there too.”

Li Wei’s name nearly fell from his lips, but he withheld the words. Perhaps Li Wei doesn’t want him to reveal that he knows right now. Maybe for that reason, and the anonymous nature of their relationship this time around, Zhen Xue felt bolder. He leaned forward, placing a kiss on his cheek. “Until later,” he whispered as he departed. 

As he turned away, he noticed Li Wei inhaling sharply. He paused, watching how Li Wei stood frozen with some inner conflict, his fingers twitching at his sides, as though resisting the urge to reach for him.

And Zhen Xue couldn’t explain why, maybe from being nineteen again with all his hormones shot to hell, but after thinking further about what he did, he sprinted upstairs, taking two steps at a time to flee the scene. 

His ears were burning from how he tried to suppress his embarrassment. He never did something so intimate before nor understood why he felt the urge to do so with Li Wei to begin with.

It had been fifteen years since they parted ways.

Often when he was alone in the palace, Zhen Xue longed to see him, but their paths never crossed in this world, especially with Zhen Xue’s confinement. Maybe he kissed him from feeling overly emotional about their reunion. 

Okay, yeah, that made more sense.

He pushed open the doors to the nearest balcony, finding a moment of relief when he was finally alone. The cold winter air swept against his face before a hand abruptly clamped over his mouth.

His eyes widened, struggling against the sudden attack as the frosty edge of steel brushed against the skin of his neck. With a pounding heart, Zhen Xue held his breath, unable to pull away from the heavy grip that threatened to suffocate him.

There was a loud thud, followed by the loosening grip around his mouth. 

When free, Zhen Xue gasped for air, vaguely spotting the sorcerer as he fell to the ground, unconscious. An unknown figure emerged from the shadows.

The hand that reached out was pale and wrapped in black fabric from heavy sword practice. “Oh, it’s just you,” Zhen Xue breathed, relaxing a bit. The ribbon holding together his long brown hair came loose and fell near the floor, of which Ming Yi immediately collected.

Ming Yi’s green eyes shimmered in the darkness as he reached around Zhen Xue, bounding the ribbon back into his hair.

He couldn’t help feeling proud of how far Ming Yi had grown. Unlike when they met on the carriage fifteen years ago, when Ming Yi was skin and bones, he now resembled a beautifully trained shadow and stood among the strongest of the Cassanova royal guards. 

This boy went through a lot. 

But of course he did, Zhen Xue thought with guilt, much like he often did whenever he looked at Ming Yi’s distraught and hazy expression. Zhen Xue could only blame himself for creating him that way... inherently broken from the tragedies he suffered. Dead parents. Not a single family member would adopt him, like he was a useless thing they discarded a long ago. A fallen rose they wouldn’t pluck again.

In the original novel, Ming Yi’s life took an upward turn after meeting Calisaya. They fall in love, supporting each other through the hardships of their journey, but their awaited meeting never happened in this present world. It was troubling how Ming Yi seemed to go down the same path of heroism, but alone. 

Even through his effort to protect him, what he truly owed Ming Yi was the truth, and that’s something he hadn’t been able to admit.

Because telling him, “I screwed up your life,” would not go over well.

Ming Yi was staring at him again, like he would often do sometimes. A frown deepened on his face, like whatever he saw troubled him. “How did you notice it was me?” he finally got out, entirely sour for a reason Zhen Xue couldn’t imagine. 

Zhen Xue almost laughed. “How could I not notice you?” 

Ming Yi’s eyes narrowed with displeasure, clearly wanting an actual response. “Be serious. I know you saw me before I came out of the shadows. How?” he demanded in a flat tone. Zhen Xue could no longer resist cracking up in laughter. Ming Yi scowled further, nose held high while snarling, “How can that be? Not even the most wanted assassin picked up my presence when I snatched her.”

With a dry smile, Zhen Xue leaned forward like he was going to divulge a secret, only to flick his forehead. “You’re thinking too much.”

Why would he know the answer to such a stupid question? Zhen Xue’s oddities were too many in between for him to consider them useful. It’s not like he could sense other people in the shadows. It was just Ming Yi specifically that he noticed.

Ming Yi tilted his head at the object in his hands. “What’s that?”

Zhen Xue looked up, fingers freezing over the bolts from the cube he unconsciously took out to play with. He offered Ming Yi the object, watching him take it and study the structure with some fascination.

He glanced up for a moment, green eyes glowing more than usual. “It looks like a puzzle,” he determined, returning to study the object with interest.

Zhen Xue smiled at him fondly, taking the cube back when he seems finished. “It’s rather useless,” he admitted, putting back into his sleeve pocket. “But I like it.”

There before him, Ming Yi reached out with a silent offer. Zhen Xue took one look between him and the railing that Ming Yi seemed fully prepared to heave them both over. “I know you’re a skilled swordsman,” Zhen Xue laughed softly. “But we both know you can’t fly. You’re the only one that can climb from this height.”

Ming Yi chuckled, a deadly sound that makes Zhen Xue freeze to the spot.

Did he… just laugh? When did he ever laugh, especially like that? In response, Ming Yi suddenly snatched his waist, hauling them both over the railing.

They fall weightlessly together. Air rushed through his hair and he found Ming Yi grinning broadly by his side, eyes sparkling wide and brilliant. 

The wind became too harsh for him to watch any longer, but he knew Ming Yi enjoyed the thrill of making him suffer. Ming Yi caught him, setting his feet on the ground before he murmured in warning near his ear, “Dianxia, don’t open your eyes.”

“Why?” he asked a heartbeat later, light blinking through his vision as he, of course, went to open his eyes. He met the sight of a bandaged hand. Darkness surrounded his peripheral, leaving him unable to see anything. “What’s going on?”

Zhen Xue shuffled anxiously on his feet, attempting to move Ming Yi’s hand, only to freeze as his foot landed on something that softly crunched beneath his shoe. His stomach twisted into knots, faint nausea washing over him as he realized the sound and how the smell of burning charcoal wasn’t from the kitchen.

“Trust me,” Ming Yi breathed sharply. “You don’t want to see this.”