The snow outside the carriage windows blurred the landscape into white and shadow. Wu Yingyue sat in silence, the constant creak of the wheels and distant neigh of horses the only sounds in the hush. His fingers rested lightly on the edge of the scroll case beside him reports, plans, maps all carefully prepared for the situation in Jing'an. But the further they went, the heavier the snow became. The wheels groaned beneath the burden.

A knock at the side of the carriage broke the silence with the flap being pulled open, and Guang Ze appeared face tense with concern.

"Your Highness," he said, "The mountain path ahead is nearly buried. One of the carts has already overturned, and the horses are faltering. It's too dangerous to go on."

"The people of Jing'an can't wait for fair weather," he said quietly.

"Then at least stop here and rest—"

But before Guang Ze could finish, Wu Yingyue had already reached for the carriage door. The blast of cold hit him instantly as he stepped out, his boots sinking into snow that reached halfway up his calves. The wind clawed at his robes, but his expression did not waver.

"Bring me my horse," he said.

"Your Highness—"

"I said bring it."

Reluctantly, Guang Ze obeyed. The black steed was saddled quickly, its breath huffing white clouds into the frozen air. Wu Yingyue tied the canvas scrolls over his horse and tugged the reins.

"I will climb. On foot, if I must."

He began to walk, leading the horse uphill through the snow-covered trail.

Behind him everyone followed.

As they reach a distance, a shrill whistle splitted the air like a blade.

Before anyone could react, a rain of arrows sliced down through the snow-laden sky!

Thwack!

One embedded itself into the side of the carriage, another struck a guard square in the chest, sending him collapsing backward without a sound. Screams broke out and horses reared, soon chaos consumed the frozen hillside.

Wu Yingyue barely had time to duck behind a jagged outcrop of rock as another arrow grazed past, nicking the fur-lined edge of his cloak.

"Ambush!" someone shouted.

The prince looked up, scanning the blur of shapes in the snow, black figures darting between trees. His guards had already drawn their blades as they clashed steel with the ambushers.

"Hold the flanks!" Guang Ze shouted, sword flashing as he struck down one of the masked attackers who had broken through the line.

Then, cutting through the frenzy, Zhou Wangshu appeared. His blade shone silver against the bloodied snow. He struck low, pivoted, and severed a spear shaft in a single, fluid motion.

Wu Yingyue tried to rise but the sudden jolt shot pain through his side. Blood soaked through the layers of his robes, the old wound on his arm torn open again by the skim of that arrow earlier.

He staggered.

"Your Highness—behind you!" Zhou Wangshu shouted.

Wu Yingyue turned just in time to see a blade arcing toward him. But before it could reach, Zhou Wangshu lunged between them, blocking the strike with the flat of his sword.

Another figure burst forward.

Slash!

Zhou Wangshu managed to twist and deliver a brutal counter, but not before a second sword slashed across his ribs.

He gasped, staggering back, crimson staining his side.

"You're hurt!" Wu Yingyue caught his arm as they ducked behind the next rock, the snow around them stained with red.

Zhou Wangshu gritted his teeth, pressing a hand to the wound. "So are you."

Another volley of arrows rained down

"We have to move," Zhou Wangshu hissed, "There's too many."

A horn blew in the distance—a second wave?

Wu Yingyue looked around.

"Mounts!" someone shouted. "Protect His Highness!"

A soldier ran toward them, leading two panicked horses. Wu Yingyue grabbed the reins, swinging into the saddle with effort, blood running down his arm. Zhou Wangshu climbed up with a grunt, already pale.

As they turned to ride away from the ambush in the forest.

Zhou Wangshu suddenly yanked his horse away.

"I'll lead them off. You go south, I'll circle west—"

"No!" Wu Yingyue snapped, "You're injured. I am also bleeding. Separating now will just get us killed."

Their eyes locked.

Zhou Wangshu was silent for a beat. Then—

"Fine. But don't fall behind."

As they bolted forward, Wu Yingyue heard Zhou wangshu tsk and said, "Your Highness, you are playing with fire."

Suddenly he pulled his reins and dismounted from his horse, looking at him Wu Yingyue also pulled his horse to halt.

"Come down," Wangshu said, his voice low, almost gentle amidst the snow.

Wu Yingyue turned but before he could speak, Wangshu reached up, one arm looping firmly around his waist. Zhou Wangshu pulled him down from the saddle.

Yingyue landed lightly against him, one hand instinctively gripping Wangshu's shoulder to steady himself. For a heartbeat, they stood like that close enough to feel the other's breath, the tension between them sharper than any swords.

"You alright?" Wangshu asked, to which Wu Yingyue nodded.

With a sharp slap, he sent the horses flying into the forest.

"Up the mountain," Zhou Wangshu said. "Live with me, or die with me."

Yingyue looked at him. Then, without a word, he leaned in, before Zhou Wnagshu could react a soft kiss fell on his lips. It was not like those deep breathless kisses, but a gentle touch as if smoothing the soul of someone precious.

"I hope you won't regret this," he whispered against Zhou Wangshu's lips.

Zhou Wangshu didn't answer.

Because maybe he already did.

They climbed. Step after agonizing step. The terrain was brutal. Zhou Wangshu was limping, the blood from his wound seeping through his clothes, but he pressed on without complaint.

Wu Yingyue noticed. He shed his cloak and draped it around Zhou Wangshu's shoulders. "How bad is it?"

Zhou Wangshu gave a crooked smile. "It's nothing. I've survived worse."

Yingyue looked up at the path they were walking on and froze.

Wu Yingyue's eyes narrowed, this path was familiar... far too familiar. He had studied the maps, memorized every twist and turn.He had been taught how to perceive in war with map only, there was no way his calculations were wrong.

There was a cliff ahead.

He turned slowly to Zhou Wangshu. Suspicion flickered behind his eyes.

You chose this path. You knew.

Before he could speak,

Zhou Wangshu steps also halted.

"Yingyue—down!"

Zhou Wangshu shoved him aside just as an arrow tore through the air between them, so fast it made the air scream. It would have split Yingyue's chest clean open if Zhou Wangshu had hesitated even a second.

And then the assassins emerged.

Down at the base of the mountain, chaos erupted. Lingling scrambled to the old eunuch's side. "What do we do? His Highness—he's gone!"

"Gone?!" Guang Ze's face went pale. "Find him! Tell the Governor now! If the Crown Prince dies, we all die!"

But none of their panic could touch what was happening now.

Things were far worse than anyone could have imagined.

In front of them: nothing but a chasm of mist and wind. Behind them were blades. The assassins moved in and their leader stepped forward.

"Your Highness," he said. "This has nothing to do with you. Hand over the Duke, and we'll let you walk away."

Wu YingYue's lips curled into sneer. "Spare me?" He glanced at Zhou WangShu. "You think I would believe a word of that? If it's not about me, then it's about the Duke, isn't it?"

The leader's eyes narrowed even further, "Whether you believe it or not is of no consequence. But your Duke must die." His sword was aimed squarely at Zhou WangShu.

Steel clashed. 

The fight was inevitable. And brutal. Swords clashed, the sound ringing out in the air as blood spilled and bodies fell. Wu Yingyue, weakened from his earlier injuries and lost martial arts, found himself struggling just to stay on his feet. ZHou Wangshu, though still strong, was faltering.

They were driven back, step by step, until they reached the edge of the cliff.

Then an arrow whistled through the chaos.

The arrow struck Wu Yingyue's already injured shoulder, reopening the wound. Blood surged. The pain was blinding, but still, he held his sword.

The second arrow came.

Zhou Wnagshu moved without thinking.

Stepped in front of him.

Straight into its path.

The arrow slammed into his shoulder with brutal force. He staggered, the impact driving the breath from his lungs. His feet slipped against the frozen rock at the cliff's edge.

But his hand lashed out, catching Wu Yingyue's wrist just in time.

Yingyue dropped his sword and grabbed him with both hands, blood and sweat slipping between their fingers. Zhou Wangshu dangled over the cliff. "Let go!" Zhou Wangshu choked. "Yingyue—you're bleeding—you'll fall!"

"Never." Yingyue's teeth were clenched. "I won't let go. I won't—you're all I have left."

But his grip was weakening. He could feel it, his body trembling, the wound gushing, the world going dim around the edges.

Zhou's eyes widened suddenly. He gasped. "No—NO! YINGYUE—"

Too late.

The third arrow.

It struck Wu Yingyue clean through the chest.

Blood exploded from the wound, painting the ground beneath him in a dark crimson. Yingyue's eyes flew open, breath catching in his throat. His knees buckled. He could barely speak—but he managed one word.

"Zhou..."

Zhou Wangshu screamed something but the sound was lost in the rush of wind.

Wu Yingyue blinked, swaying, still holding on with everything he had left.

"I..." His lips trembled. Blood pooled at the corner of his mouth. "I can't... catch you..."

Zhou Wangshu reached up, desperate, both hands now clinging to Wu Yingyue.

But the strength was gone.

Yingyue's fingers slipped.

He couldn't hold Zhou anymore.

He couldn't even hold himself.

His vision blurred. Pain numbing his senses. He opened his mouth, as if to say something but only silence came.

His body collapsed forward.

And his whole world fell with him.