Had she ever looked this soft? This vulnerable?

The poison must have done a number on her. She would never be this vulnerable with him otherwise. She'd always been on guard, even when the tension between them had been so thick one could cut it with a knife, even when she had held on to him with gritted teeth while the physician took wood splinters out of her body.

The reminder of the incident made him frown. His eyes travelled down to where the dudou barely covered her chest, falling on the scars that now littered her body. Some of them were fading from an angry red to a pinkish hue. Those were the ones from the attack, he was quite sure. Then what about all else? He'd always wondered… who was this woman? What kind of life had she lived before coming to him?

Certainly, a strange one. Where she got countless scars and had … a lover. The thought was … unpleasant. The idea that someone had been in her life before, someone had touched her before, someone had … loved her before… and she reciprocated… it made him wish to break a boulder between his bare hands.

He raised a hand and traced her bare jaw. Her brows furrowed, feeling his feather-light touch to her skin. She was still clammy. Her body was burning through the remnants of the poison. No wonder she fell asleep against him. Her bare back pressed against his chest, and it felt like every part of his skin in contact with hers was burning. It was a burn he never wanted to stop.

Had her lover ever held her like this? Had he felt the burning desire to devour and possess her at all costs? Had he felt like he was constantly on the brink of madness, trying to keep the raging, burning desire inside of him at bay? He must have. How could he not? Qing Samay was a woman who could drive any man mad.

Had it been like that for their first time too? Had he, with uninhibited abandon that came with the lack of sobriety, found this woman and lost all control of himself until he'd planted his seed in her? There was no other way. He would not have lost control before or after that. Even now, with no space between them, with his control hanging by a thin thread, he managed to hold onto it.

But that one year of travelling after ascending the throne was a hazy memory for him. Days and nights blended together, even without the influence of alcohol. He'd used the excuse of learning about his kingdom and allowed himself a year of cowardice to drown in the overwhelming feelings of rage, grief, and loss, before he came back to the throne.

If he had met this woman during that time, then it was not a surprise that he did not remember. Back then, his bodily desires were the last thing on his mind. He had rarely indulged, and when he did, it had only been with courtesans. As far as he knew. Somehow, this woman had slipped into the number of women he had lain with back then, and then slipped right out, and both of them stayed without that knowledge for years.

Had Han Qin not found her, would they have gone their whole lives without knowing? Would she have gone on clinging to and mourning a dead man? Or would she have found another lover? None of those options was appealing. He hated to think of a reality where he was not in her life, where she was not … his.

His.

Huang Yasheng buried his face into the woman's hair and inhaled deeply.

His.

She had not truly become his concubine, and he had not crossed the boundaries she had set. Yet, the reality was that she was part of his harem, and that made her his woman. No one, absolutely no one, other than he, could touch her so long as she was part of his harem. The thought sent a thrill down his spine. The urge to bind her to him forever was overwhelming. She would stay … so long as he made it a condition for Ah-Xu to maintain his Imperial Prince status.

His arm tightened around the unsuspecting body for a moment. It was minuscule, but her body tensed in response.

He exhaled harshly and loosened his grip. He could not do that to her. She was not someone meant to be caged. She was meant to be free. Like an eagle riding the wind, wings spread wide with nothing to weigh her down. Like a jaguar moving through the trees, quiet and fearless, always choosing her own path. Like the wind in the leaves—here, then gone, impossible to hold but impossible not to feel. Like a river cutting through mountains, steady and strong, always moving forward.

Caging her would kill her. She would look at him with nothing but hatred until the moment the light left her eyes. And that, more than anything, would be unbearable.

She was his for now, and that was what he had to be satisfied with. When it came time to let her go… well, he would cross that bridge when he got to it.

He closed his eyes and went back to his meditation, allowing his consciousness to melt into himself before connecting to his surroundings. To cleanse his qi veins and golden core by circulating the qi from nature within his body to absorb the poison and letting it back out in nature without damaging either his qi veins or golden core required extremely precise and delicate control. The kind where if you slipped even for a fraction of a moment, the backlash would be so severe it would shred both your body and your mind to pieces. Thankfully, it was the kind of control that he had mastered completely after decades of practice, down to the smallest of fractions.

That was why, when he felt the pulsing qi signal of one of his Shadow Guards, he was immediately able to pull himself out of his meditation.

Two slow pulses, probing, questioning.

He sent back two rapid pulses in answer. In radius.

One pulse, pause, three rapid pulses. Safe?

Three slow pulses in answer. Safe.

Three rapid pulses. Coming.

He exhaled softly. The Guard - Kin, he believed - should be here anytime now.

Sure enough, a figure clothed in black flickered into view, kneeling.

"Your Maje-" The guard stopped mid-sentence, his eyes widening. Immediately, he put his head to the ground, closing his eyes. "My deepest apologies, Your Majesty."

Huang Yasheng was satisfied with the reaction. After all, no man could lay eyes on the Emperor's concubine in such an undone state.

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

"Speak."

The man did not raise his head as he obeyed. "The attackers were trying to search for you when reinforcements arrived. Most of them scattered, but we managed to capture a few. We have searched the entire area. There is no danger for now. We were about to widen our area of search for you, Your Majesty."

He nodded. "Ah-Xu?"

"The First Imperial Prince found one of the checkpoints outside of the city. He said that … Lady Qing told him to run and led the pursuers away. Someone saved him and brought him up until the checkpoint, but he did not see the man's face. The men at the checkpoint searched the area but found no trace."

Then that man must be highly skilled. An affiliation of Ya'er? Could be. She had clearly led an eventful life before coming to the Palace. If not for his promise to her that he would not pry, he would have sent every man he could to dig up every last detail about her.

"Guard the cave. We shall leave when Our concubine awakes."

The man, without raising either his body or his head, disappeared.

Good. That man knew his place.

He inhaled, closed his eyes, and went back to meditation.

— — —

Manu clung tightly to Ah-Liu's neck, his small arms wrapped around the man's shoulders as the world blurred around them. Leaves slashed at Ah-Liu's sleeves, branches cracked underfoot, and the air was thick with the cold bite of the forest—but none of it slowed him down.

Ah-Liu was moving too fast. Manu had no chance of keeping up on his own. He hadn't even been asked to try.

The moment his mother had turned away - after wrapping the qi cloaking bracelet around his wrist and whispering, "Mama will be back soon" - Ah-Liu had scooped him up like he weighed nothing at all and sprinted into the trees.

He remembered her eyes. The calm fire in them. The curve of her lips that had tried to be a smile but couldn't quite get there.

"Mama will be back soon."

She had lied.

And Manu's throat had burned as he resisted the urge to scream. His mama had put herself in danger for him. He would not let it go in vain.

Now, all he could do was hold on. He buried his face into Ah-Liu's shoulder, the sharp scent of sweat and pine in his nose. His small fingers clenched so tightly they dug into his palm.

"Mama…" he whispered, over and over, as if the word might bring her back.

"Hold on, Manu," Ah-Liu muttered between breaths. "We're nearly there."

The forest finally broke around them, and a checkpoint came into view—wooden watchtowers half hidden in shadow, the flicker of torches, the glint of armor.

Ah-Liu set him down. Manu's breath came in frightened little gasps as Ah-Liu knelt before him, one hand steady on his shoulder, the other brushing away leaves from his hair.

They were hidden behind a dense thicket at the edge of a narrow forest path. Just ahead, the checkpoint lay within sight—wooden watchtowers flanking a gate, soldiers visible through the brush.

But Manu wasn't looking at any of it.

He was staring at Ah-Liu, trembling.

"Manu, you have the imperial plaque, don't you? The one the Emperor granted you."

Manu's mind drew a blank for a moment before he nodded, fumbling with the small satchel tied to his sash before he pulled out a golden imperial plaque, with his name written on the front and the imperial dragon emblazoned on the back.

"Good, when you go up there, tell them… tell them that you are the Imperial Prince. Tell them that your mother led the pursuers away. And tell them you ran and a man saved you and brought you here, but you did not see his face."

"You understand what I've told you, Your Highness?" Ah-Liu asked, his voice gentle but firm.

Manu nodded, though his eyes were glossy with tears.

"Say it back to me."

The boy hesitated, then repeated with a soft, shaky voice, "Mama told me to run… She led the bad people away. Someone saved me and brought me here, but I didn't see his face."

Ah-Liu gave a faint nod of approval. "Good. That's what you say if they ask. You don't mention me, you don't say anything else. Just show them the plaque. That's the only thing they'll need to believe you."

Manu's fingers tightened around the plaque, the cool metal digging into his palm.

"I don't want to go alone," he whispered. "I'm scared."

Ah-Liu exhaled slowly. He reached out and pulled the boy into a firm, brief embrace.

"I know, Manu. But you're strong. Strong like your mother. You just have to go a little farther. The men at the checkpoint—once they know who you are, they'll protect you. You'll be safe."

Manu's arms stayed around his neck a moment longer. "Will Mama be safe?"

There was a flicker in Ah-Liu's eyes - uncertainty, tightly reined in.

"She will be," he said. "Jiejie is the smartest, bravest person I know. She'll come back to you. I swear it."

Manu sniffled but nodded.

Ah-Liu pulled away and gave him a gentle nudge toward the path. "Go. Walk up to the checkpoint. Don't run. Stand tall like a prince. Can you do that?"

The boy straightened, squaring his shoulders the way his mother had taught him. "Yes."

Manu turned forward. His legs trembled, but he forced himself to walk, one step at a time, toward the checkpoint. The forest thinned behind him, replaced by the hard-packed dirt of the watch path, flanked by tall wooden towers and iron-banded gates. The sky above was tinged with late dusk.

As he emerged from the trees, the guards saw him - just a small boy in dusty robes, barefoot, face streaked with dirt and dried tears.

"Halt!" a soldier barked, hand already on his sword. "State your name!"

Manu flinched instinctively, his heart hammered away in his chest, but he kept walking. He remembered Ah-Liu's voice in his ear, quiet and steady: Stand tall like a prince.

He drew in a breath and straightened his spine.

"My name is Xu," he said, voice soft but even. "I am the First Imperial Prince."

The soldiers exchanged glances, uncertain.

Manu stepped closer, and now they could see the fine embroidery beneath the dust, the elaborate sash twisted around his waist.

"You say you're the First Imperial Prince?" A gruff old man, with a scar running across his nose, spoke. "Ha! How can we believe you? Any old mutt can come up to us and declare themselves prince!"

Manu did not say a word. He held out the plaque with both hands.

For a moment, the soldiers just stared at it, blinking. One of them approached—an older man with a scar cutting through his left brow. He took the plaque, eyes narrowed, turning it over.

And then he stopped breathing.

He knelt so fast his knee cracked against the ground. His lips parted, and the color drained from his face.

"It's real. By the heavens…" he whispered. "This is the First Imperial Prince."

A beat of silence followed. Then chaos.

Another soldier rushed forward, nearly tripping over himself. "What did he say?! The First Prince?!"

"I …I didn't recognize Your …Your Highness, please forgive us!"

They all dropped to their knees, heads bowed low to the ground.

Manu blinked at the sudden shift. He took a half step back, unsure what to do with so many grown men kneeling before him. He shivered.

Tall like a prince.

"It's alright," he said softly. "You didn't know."

Then one of them dared to look up. "Your Highness… are you hurt?"

"No," Manu said. "Ma … mother told me to run," he continued. "She led the bad men away so I could escape."

"Escape from where?"

"The Imperial Hunting Grounds?"

One of them gasped. "You… you ran here all the way from there?"

Manu shook his head. "A man… found me and carried me here. But I didn't see his face."

"Someone, notify the Imperial Guards immediately!" the scarred one said immediately. "Cloak! Someone fetch the Commander! We need an escort—now!"

Another soldier removed his own travel cloak and draped it gently around Manu's small shoulders.

"You're safe now, Your Highness," he said. "We'll take you home."

The men were surprisingly swift. Before Manu could respond, another guard carefully picked him up and settled him into a saddle, murmuring apologies as he did. From the corner of his eyes, he could see another man galloping past faster than any horseman he'd ever seen.

Manu sat still, eyes glazed, watching the trees blur past as the horses began to gallop. He held the plaque tightly in his hands, its weight grounding him.

Mama said she would be back soon.

She will be.

Mama always kept her promises. She would keep it this time, too. Right?

The wind pulled at his hair, but he didn't cry. Not yet.

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