CH 13

XIII Nightmare

I can only look to the sky helplessly once I hear him say that.

How the hell did he know I was hiding outside the door? Did he grow a third eye or something?

Murong Yu’s been tied up with dealing with the front line for the past few days so I haven’t been bothered. I’ve had enough alone time too but I really do not want to revisit our last talk. So the best way to go would be to avoid him, but turns out that tactic isn’t working out either.

So I hesitantly shuffle over.

Murong Yu doesn’t look up. The light is behind him, concealing his eyes and his emotions in shadows. He continues to flip through the mound of scrolls laid out before him without a word, his forehead propped up by his hand. 

What the hell is this? Does he not see me standing here? Or does he just want to make it hard on me?

The air in the room is almost still. I take a quick peep at him and just as I’m about to sneak out he speaks,

“Did I say you could leave?”

He didn’t speak very loudly but his voice still had the usual power and coolness to it. It makes me realize the awkward spot I’m in—a prisoner who has his life and future in the hands of someone else. So I stand still with my head bowed and ask in a polite voice, “What may I do for you, your highness?”

He picks up his brush and dips it in the inkwell while pointing to the tray on the table with his left hand. “Take that out.”

I can’t object to his command so I edge over to the table warily and run straight towards the door after taking the tray. A question pops into my mind just as I get to the door.

“How did you know I was outside?” I turn around to ask him.

He stops for a moment before returning to his previous unblinking, unmoving state and continues reading his reports. “I doubt that brat knows how to serve. Did you honestly expect me to believe she could make the temperature just right?”

Oh. Right….

Okay, whatever. I must be coming down with something to be asking such a random question.

Just as I’m about to leave, I hear him coughing behind me. I quickly turn to look only to see him grimacing and covering his mouth, one hand reaching out for the teapot. For some reason I hurry back and grab that hand.

“Don’t drink while coughing,” I instruct.

He looks up at me with a confused look.

“You’ll choke if you do,” I explain. “Just drink it in a bit.”

He watches me.

Feeling sort of self-conscious of my actions, I let go of his hand while chuckling nervously. “Um, so I’m going to leave you to your business then, your-.”

He snatches my wrist before I can finish.

The sky outside is getting all the more gloomy. A storm is about to break. 

Murong Yu keeps his unreadable gaze on me, his lips curving up slightly. “You...care for me?”

I stop in my track. He tightens his grip after studying my face for quite a while. His thin, long fingers are strangely cold. Only the palm contains a shred of warmth.

I pull my hand away and take a step back, keeping him in my sight.

“You overstate matters, your highness.” I let my nerves settle before turning to leave out the door.

He suddenly yanks me back by the arm. “Did I dismiss you?” He interrogates flatly while pushing aside the paper and brush.

“Your highness has made orders for me to refrain from roaming after the hour of the Pig. I’m merely following orders.”

He didn’t seem to expect that and starts chuckling. “I should’ve known better. You are the best when it comes to battles of the tongue.”

I can’t spot any trace of the usual fierceness or aloofness from his amiable smile under the dim, yellow candlelight.

I finally give up from the eye contact and start laughing as well. The two of us have been in a strop lately. All we’ve exchanged are sharp glares; not a word. Well, of course, there had been a bunch of soldiers behind him every time we bumped into each other, and I hadn’t wanted to speak with him.

This is the first time we’re alone by ourselves since that night.

I’m so tired of it. Always being stony-faced. It’s just not how I do.

“Whatcha thinking about?” He asks unusually softly.

I shrug and then pick up his cloak and put it around his shoulders. “You don’t wanna catch a cold. Aren’t you old enough to take care of yourself by now?”

He flashes a smile, his long brows dancing up, and wraps his cloak around himself.

I pick up the tray again and turn my head to say to him, “It’s getting late. You’d better head to bed.”

Before I manage to make the turn, he reaches over my shoulders, taking away the things I’m holding, and holds onto my hands. I almost jump out of my skin. I briskly whip my head around only to look into the mysterious depths of his eyes.

♚♔

Great Yan was established through martial means, in particular through the art of fire, and has esteemed the colour red through all generations.

The flags of the Yan army cover everywhere the eyes can see. The glaring red seems to swallow up the world as if the army has hailed from the skies. The picture is overwhelming.

A black and red war flag flaps wildly in the wind. The white wolf upon it seems to come alive under the golden sunlight and howl in the wind. The Three Wings are fully armed and standing parted in the middle. The jet black handle and tassels of the soldiers’ spears form a forest. Only the silver blades reflect cold, menacing light that seems to shoot through your soul. 

The flag of the wolf draws near and a man with deep contours comes forth, armoured in shining iron plates. He grins as he strolls through the forest of spears and stops before Murong Yu. Murong Yu is sitting at the end of a long table, adorned with a silver helmet and red cape as usual. The top half of his face remains hidden in the shadows of his helmet. His expression is hard to identify but his lips are tightly pursed as always.

The man kneels down on one knee and the men behind him follow suit, their metallic armour clanging against the ground, the sound sharp and hollow. The man raises his hands and lifts a gilt-edged scroll sealed with wax above his head.

“A decree written by His Majesty, Emperor of Great Yan,” he declares in a clear voice. “‘The Lupine Blood Mounts under my command shall be entrusted entirely to Prince Lie! The Prince shall expand our borders to the utmost without fail!’”

Murong Yu’s lips curve at an angle, a steady smile showing through the shade. 

The Lupine Blood Mounted Squadron is a cavalry that directly answers to the Yan Emperor. All of them armoured in red iron plates have proven their courage on the battlefield, striding over their opponents’ mangled remains and polishing their mail with the shed blood of their enemies. 

They are a pack of merciless wolves that will do whatever it takes to take down their prey, and that man is none other than Yuwen Yuan, the general of the Lupine Blood Mounted Squadron. 

He was born into a family of Yan nobility and is a warrior so fierce, he murders and raids, buries war prisoners alive and massacres commoners, all without a moment’s hesitation. I’m afraid his arrival along with the Lupine Blood Mounted Squadron means the Yan Emperor has put all his chips in.

I gaze at the scene. It’s sunny, the skies are clear, yet I’m shivering. 

The Lupine Blood Mounted Squadron—it had once swept across the Yan borders, cutting down everything in its way. It had trampled beneath its steeds flesh and bone; it had forked upon its blades heads. Numberless states and tribes have cried out beneath its mighty hooves and trembled beneath its gleaming blades. And now, this bloodthirsty beast has turned its glistening fangs towards Great Rui that is still catching its breath, and is biding its time.

Yuwen Yuan grins and quickly turns towards all the men behind him. “We shall follow Prince Lie until our deaths, crush all the enemies before us and expand our borders to the utmost!” He bellows.

“Crush all enemies! Expand our borders!” The soldiers wave their weapons in the air and howl to the sky, shaking the earth itself.

The shouting gets louder each time around but Murong Yu stays unflinching with a light smile on his face and a sword hilt in his right hand. 

♚♔

Murong Yu had called for a feast to be made in the evening to welcome Yuwen Yuan and the Lupine Blood Mounts.

The evening winds are thick with the smell of alcohol. The smell of roast meat makes the mouth water. Murong Yu heads the table and toasts to Yuwen Yuan who isn’t far away. Once in a while there are drunken soldiers bumping into and hollering at each other, laughing and singing without restraint.

I keep walking, past the Central Wing Camp, past Murong Yu’s quarters, all the way to the back of the yard. The laughter and noise from the welcome party is far behind me, the luminous lanterns naught but small dots twinkling vaguely in the background.

The back of the yard doesn’t have a wall; I can spot the vast plains in the distance. There’s not a sound. It’s so quiet it’s suffocating. It’s so dark it’s suffocating.

The sun has long set. Even the dazzling twilight has dissipated into the sky, the remaining glow fading out slowly until all that’s left shining upon the deserted land is the cool, clear moonlight. 

I might have decided to escape right now if I were the Han Xin from the time of my capture. Now, however, I wouldn’t even consider it because I know that beyond this seemingly peaceful piece of grassland are murderous Yan soldiers.

I take out a small bottle. The light fragrances of wine not unlike that of pears fill my nostrils the moment I twist open the lid. I tilt the bottle upside down as I start quaffing it down. This is the most famous wine of Yan, Jade Green Soul, and is the hardest of hard liquor. A burning sensation arises as the cool liquid slides into my mouth. I take big gulps as though to drown the bitterness in my heart.

Am I…in denial?

The bottle gets lighter and lighter. I tilt my head back to get that last bit when my hand closes in on itself—the bottle’s gone!

Someone has taken it from behind. I bark at them without sparing a look, “Givit back!”

“But brother, alcohol’s bad for you!”

“Bad? Doesn’t matter.”