ZE ZHI WEI (萴智危)

  Day 6, 4th Month of the Lunar Calendar, 6000th Year of the Yun Dynasty, Shuishang Province, Shanhu Sect

  Perfection.

  The mortar held white grains that had a clear, sky-blue colour, and glittered like ice. In its heyday, a single grain of bīnghuǒdú could kill an Immortal of the tier-nine status, and a teaspoon could decimate all the deities in that foul Taishan. If only I had a little more power, it could’ve have really been something. Nevertheless, this tier-two imitation was just as deadly. Swirling my hand, I transferred the powder into a cork-lidded jar. From now on, I wouldn't dare touch it with my bare hands.

  The wind settled, leaving behind a cloud of light blue magic.

  My mother was slumped in a chair that most of her body dangled out of. I grabbed a blanket off the shelf as I passed by and placed the covers over her. She curled like a foetus into the little warmth provided. My mother had a small smile on her face; the only part of her that was mildly coloured.

  She should have been queen. She should have been strong and clothed with all sorts of finery. Instead, she only wore a thin shawl that loosely draped her hollow frame. She snored lightly and I wished that the sound would give me more comfort. Didn’t her snores show me that she could sleep peacefully? I believed that if my mother were happy, I would be. But her upturned mouth did nothing for the uneasiness I felt.

  I clenched the phial in my hands.

  Was poisoning an innocent really justice?

  All my life, my mother reminded me never to forget what had been done to us. The number of lives lost that day in the massacre of our people. She made me remember names of her friends, the names of her blood born relations.

  She recited their stories, the atrocity of their unjust deaths, their unmarked graves, and how they had no body to bury.

  The most shameful way to die.

  But those names were faceless.

  I could not understand her pain.

  I watched at her. She still lived in the past. Every day. Her pills were the only thing keeping her in the present and stopping those blood-soaked memories from resurfacing. Even then, drugs could only do so much. Every day, I saw her tears. Wet rivers that flowed down her hollowed cheeks. Every day, she cried out for someone. She would grab at thin air, trying to reach for her sister; or the daughter who had long gone. My mother could not move on.

  Not until revenge was paid.

  Not until the deed was done.

  Not until the Empress fell.

  I touched the recipe parchment and traced the word bīnghuǒdú. It was a shame that this ancient artefact had to be destroyed. I tore up the recipe and threw the scraps into the fireplace. The flames licked the paper greedily, burning the evidence into oblivion.

  ***

  Shénwǔ Gate was the primary entrance to Tian’an Sect, evidenced by the disciples who flocked about like ants at a picnic. I would’ve thought they would be guarded against a disciple from another sect—such as myself. Yet the merrymaking and hubbub continued without a moment thought. It seemed that they had been accustomed to my presence. I hadn’t realised I frequented this place so often.

  But as the saying went, a dog does not have a seat at the table. Dogs obeyed whoever and whatever summoned them. And the Crown Prince had requested my presence.

  Again.

  He actually treated me like I had a purpose. Did he not realise that our families were irreconcilable enemies? My mother hated him. His mother hated us.

  Then why couldn't I shake that feeling? The feeling where my insides twisted up with…guilt.

  As I walked through the gate and across the open courtyard, my strides became smaller, and smaller still. Until they turned into cowardly shuffles.

  Even my body was holding me back the more I neared his estate.

  I gripped the phial in my pocket.

  I couldn't even avenge my family. He’s not really my brother anyway. He was the enemy, the child of the Empress. Who knew how much blood those hands were covered with? And yet, my conscience nagged in my chest, even though the facts were before me.

  My mother was right. I was an unfilial child, who wanted to spare the life of the man who had stolen my rights to the throne. My mother had lost everything to the Empress.

  It was about time the Empress lost everything.

  My feet stopped and the Palace of Tranquillity loomed before me. The home of His Highness, the Crown Prince. Grey walls framed the estate. It was built with smooth cut stones, unblemished and uncracked—perfect and impenetrable like the master within.

  I steeled myself as I waited outside. At last, a eunuch gestured in some half-hearted way to show he acknowledged my presence, and I followed him. The eunuch kept their head facing the ground the entire time. Even when we had finally reached the hall, the eunuch simply grunted at me to stay put, then entered the hall. When he returned, he opened his mouth and grunted at me again.

  I realised his silence had not been intentional.

  His tongue was missing.

  I swallowed.

  The eunuch grunted again, and I knew I was not mistaken.

  No wonder his palace was called the Palace of Tranquillity.

  Taking a final breath, I strode into the hall.

  Stolen story; please report.

  The Crown Prince was sitting at his desk. Unlike his showy mother who had a solid gold throne and complementary dais, he had a simple stone table and chair set. He was peacefully writing, with stacks of military books crowding most of the tabletop. Yet, even with rice paper leaflets hanging out of the piles of documents, his desk carried the air of professionalism. Because it was him.

  “Captain Ze,” the Crown Prince said.

  “Your Highness,” I said, fumbling for the right words.

  My brother always sneered when he called the Crown Prince’s title, but I only felt sorry for the Crown Prince. The man placed down his horse-haired brush and blew over the rice paper on which he was writing.

  Why did he seem so normal?

  That was the part that unsettled me the most.

  The fact that he was nothing like her.

  He carried himself quietly and without fanfare. He cared little for his rank, his face, and even the surname that trailed after him like a shadow.

  And that difference—that simple, human difference—was what made things harder. I kept thinking, If he were anything like the Empress, surely he’d be a tier-nine deity by now. Someone ruthless would’ve clawed their way up already. But after all those years of cultivation, his spiritual strength still hovered just below tier-four.

  Unremarkable, almost modest.

  It didn’t fit the narrative I wanted to believe. And it didn’t fit the reason I’d come here.

  If he truly were power-hungry like his mother, I wouldn’t have hesitated. But he wasn’t. And that meant... maybe he didn’t deserve to die. Not just so someone else could suffer.

  And to further complicate, it had been His Highness who helped Yijun and me earn our first real positions in court. The kind of opportunity no one handed out for free. Maybe it was politics. Maybe it was pity. But I remembered how we bowed in thanks, and how he’d accepted it without looking down on us.

  I tightened the grip on the phial in my pocket.

  How could I bite the hand that had fed me?

  The Crown Prince asked, “Military report?”

  “Huh?” I responded.

  Ever since my mother’s plan to kill Yun Rongxian, things had never been the same. I just couldn't seem to focus in his presence.

  He tilted his head up.

  “Yes, I have the report.” I hurriedly added.

  We continued staring until I realised that I hadn't given him the military report. What is your problem Zhiwei. Get your act together. I forcefully tugged it out of my sleeve pocket.

  “Here it is, Your Highness.”

  My hands were shaking. My stupid conscience. I needed to calm down. It wasn’t like I was planning to kill him right there and then.

  He opened the memorial. His eyes flicked back-and-forth as he scanned the pages. Then he placed it atop the stack of documents.

  “I’ll be frank.”

  I shifted in my shoes. Did he know? Was he going to confront me about it? Regardless of whatever he was planning to accuse me of I had to deny it. My family, whether my mother admitted it, was going to commit treason of the highest degree—the assassination of the Crown Prince.

  The Crown Prince’s blank face remained. “What do you think about epidemic in Hongchen City?”

  I squished my hands together and placed them behind my back. At least that was something I could answer.

  “Your Highness wants my opinion?”

  The Crown Prince inclined his head with the grace of a deer.

  I hadn’t expected him to care. He was not my friend. Not when it came to elaborate planning and intellect.

  Act stupid Zhiwei, so he won't know your true colours.

  “Well, I’m not exactly qualified to share—” I stopped.

  Not that stupid! I am meant to be Captain of Taishan’s Infantry, my title personally bestowed by the Crown Prince. To say that I was unqualified was the same as saying the Crown Prince made a mistake. Who under heaven would dare insinuate that?

  What a stupid remark!

  The Crown Prince stood up, moved to his bookshelf, and pulled a bamboo scroll from it. It clattered like fire sticks as he unravelled it.

  Dark cobalt eyes examined me.

  I didn’t know what it was. Or what he did. But my palms were a sweat fest, and I was worried they would start dripping. The hairs on the back of my neck stood on ends as adrenaline coursed through my veins. I felt compelled to speak. As if there was a sudden pressure beckoning me to tell him my thoughts.

  I took a breath. “Your Highness, this sudden epidemic is unusual. Considering its origin in the capital of Zhouwei Province, I can’t help but think Xuanji Province is involved. Those two provinces have never seen eye-to-eye.”

  I clenched my teeth. I shouldn’t have said that. Why did I say that? I could get my mother in trouble if she had a hand in it. It was possible that she did, after all the schemes she had made in the past.

  He lifted his eyes from me, tightly rewrapped the bamboo scroll and slipped it back into the shelf. I wished he would say something so that I wouldn’t feel like the only blabbering buffoon.

  “I see,” he replied.

  Two words. Then I waited. Waited to see if he had anything else to say. It felt awkward, but by now, I couldn't care less. I wanted to leave this godforsaken place. The air was feeling sour like rancid milk and all my senses were heightened.

  The silence broke.

  “Out of the way!” the Empress shouted, as she threw the mute eunuch aside with her fire. My head whipped toward the sound faster than my composure could disguise my fear.

  The Crown Prince twisted his head, as if the Empress yelling outside his residence was a daily occurrence. Then he walked toward the entrance of the hall. His hands were respectively placed behind his back and his cotton shoes were silent against the tiled floor. Contrastingly, the Empress was glamorously dressed in a shēnyī with a fan in one hand as she clicked her way over.

  To an outsider, they didn't look a thing related.

  “Hui’er!” she cooed.

  He kneeled, placed his hands on top of each other, and bowed.

  “Yun Rongxian, your son, greets Your Majesty.”

  She fussed about trying to pull him up. “Please get up, no need for formalities.”

  It was such a farce, because we all knew that if he hadn't bowed, something different would’ve be flying from her lips.

  “Why are you here, mother?” he asked.

  “Hui’er, I have—” she stopped.

  I soon found two pairs of eyes staring at me. Deep ocean blue from one and harsh fire embers radiating from the other. I readjusted my feet trying to stand taller. I was a full head taller than the Empress, yet her glare had me feeling like I was a dwarf.

  I bowed from my waist. “Your Majesty.”

  “What is he doing here?!” the Empress said.

  Her voice was as fiery as her stare. It cut through the tension like the first arrow shot on a battlefield.

  The Crown Prince smoothly responded, “Captain Ze was discussing recent military activities with me.”

  The lie spilled easily from his mouth. But I was glad for it.

  She gave me the stink eye. My insides trembled like an earthquake, but I forced myself to stay still.

  Before she could open her mouth, the Crown Prince continued, “Never mind him, mother. What was it that you wanted to say?”

  “Get. Out,” she enunciated with malice.

  I had known the Empress was a hot-tempered mess, but speaking to her in the flesh still alarmed me.

  The Crown Prince inclined his head. If he were feeling sorry for me, I couldn't tell. I nodded my head toward him, then steeled myself to stare straight into the Empress’ crimson-ringed eyes.

  “Yes, Your Majesty,” I replied.

  I tightened my grip on the phial in my pocket. I had no more qualms about making her pay. Her smug face full of makeup taunted me, battering me into the ground, making me feel like dirt. Her haunting eyes made the blood in my veins turn to ice. Cold sweat was trickling down my back and forming at my forehead.

  I hated the fear I felt in front of her.

  She was still staring at me as I exited.