"At the apex of power, it is easy for one to deny the existence of suffering. They did not see the pain of the weak and the old. They see the glorious and the burning, but not the decaying and the dead."

The Book of Controversies—Unknown Zmerkï author

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

The guards weren't happy to see me again.

"My lady, we know you have good intentions, but we can't let you in," the first soldier said.

"It's important," I pleaded. "Please let me through."

This time, I came more prepared than I was. I handed the soldier a bag full of gold pins.

The soldier weighed the bag in his hands, sighed and stepped aside.

"Five minutes."

A sigh of relief escaped me. "Thank you."

I still remembered the way to the deepest part of the Imperial Dungeons. It didn't take me long to find Biyu's cell. This time, he wasn't chained to the ceiling. Biyu was lying face-down on the straw, his shirt stained dark with dried blood.

"Biyu." My breath left me as a soft flutter. "High Immortals, can you hear me?"

To my relief, Biyu stirred. His eyes were rimmed with deep, dark circles, and there was an enormous gash across his left cheek. A guard must have struck him after the public whipping. At the thought of that, my blood boiled. If I found out who did this, I'd kill him on the spot, no questions asked.

Biyu hissed. "You've interrupted my execution, and now you're interrupting my sleep. What else do you want?"

"I've bought you medicine." I slid a vial through the bars. Wulin had ordered the Imperial Physician to brew me some painkillers for my hand, but I had no use for it since I healed fast. "The Imperial Physician gave it to me."

"Gave or stole?" Biyu said. "No Physician here would give aid to prisoners."

"Just take it!" I cried.

Biyu crawled toward me, his dirt and blood coated fingers gripping the bars.

"Why do you care so much? Who am I to you?"

"Biyu," I pleaded. "You mustn't give up."

"This is my pathetic life, I will do as I please!" Biyu roared, then winced in pain. "Go back to your fancy palace and pretty satin dresses."

I couldn't do this anymore. He had a right to know where I went, or whether truly dead. When Gui broke the news of my death to Biyu, he must have thought the eunuch was trying to manipulate him, to shatter him into a thousand pieces. Yet, he still clung to the sliver of hope I was alive.

He deserved all the answers.

"The spiders are coming for you," I said.

Biyu froze. "What did you say?"

"Spiders are icky." Memories forced tears from my eyes, burning a trail down my cheeks and onto the dirty, straw-matted ground. Biyu always had an unrelenting fear of spiders. He hated their many furry legs and eight eyes. It was our secret, as Biyu refused to let Zichuan Theater know of his greatest fear, lest they prank him with a box of spiders for his nameday. Whenever we stayed in old, dirty inns infested with spiders, I was the unofficial executioner of spiders. Only then would he step into the room.

"You shouldn't know that." Biyu threw himself at the bars. "What did you do to Sarna? You killed her, didn't you? You murderer!"

My fingers went to the small cease under my chin, and I prised Qara's face from mine.

It was like I was reborn. The cold air was gentle against my face—a face that hadn't seen real sunlight in weeks, a face that hadn't breathed ever since it was smothered by another.

"Holy Immortals." Biyu took a sharp breath. "Sarna?"

"I promise you I'll get you and everyone else out of this bloody place," I said. "I promise."

Biyu shook his head, leaned forward, and grasped my face with both of his dirt-coated hands.

"The High Immortals," he said. "This is their work."

"I struck a deal with High Immortal Donghwa," I said.

"Why?" he whispered. "Whatever you're doing, it's not worth it. You're tampering with the High Immortals. There's a reason why us mortals are denied godly powers."

"I'm trying to save you, everyone we love," I said. "This is the only way."

"It's not worth the price." His tired eyes never left mine. "You're risking not just your life, but your identity. You've got out. Now, run away. Better one free than all of us dead."

I couldn't believe my ears. "Do you really think I will leave you behind? Is this something family would do?"

"Family would not leap stupidly into a fire to save others."

"No, family are those willing to leap stupidly into a fire if it meant saving them." I held his hand, and another wave of tears rolled down my cheeks. "I swear that I'll get everyone out of prison. Persevere, I'm begging you."

"What will you do to get us out?" he asked.

"Anything," I answered. I rested my forehead against his. In that moment, it was just the two of us, temple against temple. The darkness of the dungeons lifted. Radiant sunlight poured overhead, spreading its warm rays over the green plains where I watched Biyu fly kites and catch carps from the lake. Far away from the Pavilion, we were free souls. There was no worry of inciting Mama Ruga's wrath, or whether we'd live to see another day.

They were all but memories.

I opened my eyes. "I have to go."

"It's not worth it." Biyu's voice trembled. "Have you learned nothing from the Immortalist Lores? Tampering with the High Immortals' magic never went well even for heroes."

A hero. It was the last thing I'd ever call myself. I was a thief, a liar, and a murderer. But he needn't know that. All he needed to know was I was doing everything I could to save them.

"I love you," I whispered.

I turned back and ran out of the dungeons as sadness surged through my body. It was crippling. My legs were weak, and my hands were cold. I pressed Qara's face back upon mine, brushed past the two guards, and ran away. I ran and ran until I couldn't breathe, and my left side was screaming in agony.

I had run into a small patch of woods in the Jade Palace, next to the Pearl Hall.

I love you.

The sorrow I had tried to suppress eddied and welled out in big, ugly sobs. I clung onto a tree, crying my eyes out. Tears came and went, but they couldn't ease the emptiness in my heart or banish the aching anguish within my soul.

Soft footsteps rustled. "The lovely Lady Qara of the Tenth Province, why are you crying?"

I turned around. Bowen was leaning against a tree with a huge smile on his face.

I wiped my eyes and looked away. Bowen was the last person I wanted to see right now. I doubted I'd be able to process rational thoughts right now. If he dared taunt me, I'd hurt him.

"Would you stop shedding tears if I offered to walk with you?" Bowen asked. "I hate to see a beautiful lady as you cry."

"I do not appreciate your weak attempts at flattery." I walked away, hoping to put some distance between us.

Bowen let out a cry of aghast. "Weak attempts at flattery?" He followed me into the woods. "I believe you've wrongly judged my charm."

"Forgive my insolence, but my thoughts are utterly none of your concern."

Bowen sighed and shook his head. "Insolent indeed." He reached into his pocket and produced a handkerchief.

I didn't want his sympathy. But with snot running down my nose and dried tears stuck to my face, I took the soft handkerchief and blew my nose.

"What brings you here to the crown prince's private woods in the middle of the night?" he asked.

"What brings you here to the crown prince's private woods in the middle of the night?" I threw back.

Bowen snorted. "It wasn't a rhetorical question."

"I just miss my friends and my home," I said.

"I see," he said. "I can be your friend."

I choked. "You are not my friend."

The second prince creased his brows, and he was parading the most obnoxious pout ever. He looked absolutely ridiculous.

"You served at my court. You were in my bedchambers until my brother took you ever so rudely from me. Our encounter was brief, but I believe we had something more than hatred between us."

"You're wrong. I will never love an Imperial."

Bowen took a step closer.

"Really?" he implored. "Then, why are you with my brother, if not for the sake of love?"

I stumbled backward, my hand flying to my chest. It might look as if I was trying to protect myself from his advances, but in reality, I considered drawing my weapon.

One more step, and cold stone met my back.

Surprised, I turned.

We were standing in a clearing where a ring of white statuesque trees heralded thick branches and heavy red crenate leaves. Carved into the heart of the trees were faces, and all of them were weeping blood.

Something sang out to me, beckoning me forward with a light strum of music and slivers of green light. The High Immortal blood inside me boiled, drawing me toward the trees with faces. Not one face on the trees was similar. Some sported tall noses, others had squat ones. Some had full lips, while others had lips drawn so thin, they leered. A slight breeze rustled through the red manuscripts and past the many boughs, whispering secrets only for the High Immortals' ears.

There was power humming through the air. I detected the familiar trace of ashes—the scent of Donghwa whenever he appeared or disappeared into thin air.

My breath left me like a fleeting ghost. "What are these?"

"The corpses of the High Demons," Bowen said. "After the High Immortals killed the High Demons and fell from the skies, many of them became petrified in the form of the trees they landed on. We call them the Petrifi. My brother is obsessed with the Immortalist lores. Why do you think he ordered Zichuan Theater to perform on his nameday? He had spent his entire life researching the many myths of the Nine Heavens and the Eighteen Hells, claiming there was something lost in the lore that could end mortal pain and needless suffering."

I stopped paying attention after he said it was his brother who ordered us to perform for his nameday celebration.

Gui was the one who had sent the order, not Wulin. Was Bowen trying to trick me into believing he wasn't in league with the eunuch?

"You speak as though you don't believe in the High Immortals?" I asked.

"Why should I?" Bowen replied. "I think of myself as a grounded person. I prefer facts and statements with evidence."

I touched the smooth face on the nearest tree. "Wulin never said anything about this."

"It's his little secret." Bowen walked out of the circle of trees. "His love and obsession for the High Demons. I have a curious soul. He can't hide anything from me."

I'd been with Wulin for almost a month now. He was too regal, too rigid to be a religious fanatic. I wondered if Bowen meeting me here was a coincidence, or like many of our previous encounters, was only one of his little schemes. I had not much proof of his acquaintance with Gui except for the fact they shared similar court pendants. Until I had sufficient evidence, I had to be wary of his words.

I followed Bowen down a small path and toward an enormous slab of rock behind the clearing of Petrifi.

Where moonlight glided off its surface, it was easily three times my height, wide enough for five men to join hands and form a circle around it. The rectangular stone resembled a tombstone, smoother than a bronze mirror. There in the middle of the stone was the most grotesque face I had ever seen. It had a mouth yawned open with three rows of jagged teeth. Wicked horns curved like a ram's sprouted from its fluted head, but nothing terrified me more than the four bulbous yellow eyes which seemed to glare at me. Two of its middle eyes were coated in dried black blood, while the remaining two were clean.

There was no growth covering the stone, as if all living things had fled. The stone stood like a carapace of death in the woods, inanimate and ghostly. Yet, it exuded a thick aura of power that saturated the air. It choked.

"Hideous, isn't it?" Bowen said. "My brother likes to stare at this thing. Whatever this is, he believes it can help Erden."

"He does seem to have immense faith in them," I said.

"High Immortals, High Demons, it doesn't matter." Bowen stuck his hands into his pockets and sighed. "These are just corpses. I'm going to leave before my brother decides to visit his secret hideout again. He caught me here this one time, and he wasn't nice about it."

I walked out of the woods with Bowen following behind. He didn't speak but simply escorted me back to Qiliu court.

I didn't thank him; I didn't ask for his company.

As I turned to enter the court, Bowen shouted. "You know, you remind me of someone I've met in the city a month ago."

My heart skipped a beat. When I whirled around, but he was gone.

#

Wulin summoned me to his study the night after.

Dressed in a green dress and a cherry blossom hairpin, I greeted him while he sat behind his desk, scribbling away on a bamboo scroll.

I had seen his study from afar before, but through translucent curtains. Now, I was given full view of his enormous study where bookracks lined the back. Just as enormous portraits of the Imperials had lined the wall of my room when I first came into the Jade Palace, large, intricately-woven tapestries covered most of Wulin's study. Except, these weren't depictions of the Imperials, but tapestries telling the stories of the High Demons.

I was so used to looking at text and images of the High Immortals, I was taken aback to see those of the High Demons.

Just like the High Immortals, the High Demons looked humanoid, yet more animalistic. I saw the Bone demon with her waist-long black hair lounging on a pile of human skulls, the Nine-Tailed demon with her claws around the face of a human man gasping for air, as well as MengPo, the Demon of Forgetfulness, administering the Five Flavored Tea of Forgetfulness to souls in the tenth level of Hell.

Most glorious of them all, was Hundun, the High Demon of Chaos.

He resided on a throne of bones, his mighty staff clasped in his clawed hands. His four bulbous yellow eyes seemed to flicker in all directions, and his tongue was so long, it reached the floor. Clad in black armor of an unknown metal, Hundun was intimidating, regal, and terrifying.

I knew this High Demon. He was the face in the middle of Wulin's secret garden.

"Glorious, isn't he?" Wulin appeared at my side. "He was the counterpart of the All Mother. She is Creation, and he is Chaos. Without Chaos, there would be no Creation. At the beginning of time, Nüwa and Hundun had a deal. Whatever Nüwa creates, Hundun would destroy, as that was how balance was ordained. But the All Mother loved her creations too much, and she betrayed Hundun by blinding him and sealing him within a tomb."

I had expected the High Demons to be all evil, but somehow amidst the chaos, there was balance.

Life and death. Dark and light. High Immortals and High Demons. Masters and slaves.

I gritted my teeth. Was this the balance Wulin yearned for? Neither could exist without the other. Without slaves, there would be no masters. Was he going to abolish the entire system?

What did you really want, Wulin? You claimed you deserved peace and freedom for all of Erden, yet you struck down a slave as though her life wasn't even worth a blade of grass. Was this what we truly were in your eyes?

"You astound me." He led me over to the desk where he poured me a cup of tea. "What you did yesterday was both expected and unexpected."

"I do not understand," I said.

"Never has there been an Imperial, or a member of the noble family who stopped an execution and demanded justice for the people. We have incarcerated many people, and not all of them are guilty. It's easy for us to point fingers and let blame befall an entire family, but to speak against the system and in front of the crown prince, you're the first."

"You knew I would save the prisoner?"

"Yes," he said. "You may be dressed like a phoenix, but underneath all that glamour and gold pins, you're still a pheasant. You know what it feels like to wronged, and what it feels like to be poor. Your speech resonated with the people. And now, they're spreading virtuous tales about you—the princess with storm in her eyes, the reincarnation of the High Immortal Nüwa, their doe in times of fear."

A doe means freedom. Zhenjin's voice echoed in my head. Mama wants you to be free, too.

"I just didn't want to see a man die," I said.

"When you're at the top of the system, you can't choose. One man will die, and many more will follow. But we can break that pattern, starting from you. I knew selecting you to be my escort was the right choice."

Until I cut off his head, I thought. He thought he was using me, but he didn't know that I was the one using him.

"However," Wulin continued, "Demanding justice for the people is not enough. You need to be out there, physically helping the commoners."

"You want me to give aid to the poor just for show?" I said, even sicker than before. "If so, we're both nothing but liars and scoundrels."

"Aren't we?" Wulin said. "For their sake, for the nation's sake, we must put on every show in order to prevent Erden from falling into the wrong hands."

"You're confident ours are the right hands?"

Wulin walked down the stairs, one deliberate step at a time. "I see my brother has been talking to you."

"What if he did?"

The crown prince neared me.

"Are you not on my side of the battle?"

"You claim to want peace and fairness, but we're lying to the commoners. Aid should be given out because they need it, not because we needed their political support."

"You're might be new to this game," Wulin said. "But I've been playing it for nineteen years. From the moment an Imperial is born, they have to compete with their siblings for status. Their mothers fight for the Emperor's love, the slaves fight to rise among the ranks. Everyone is fighting for something superficial. I want to end this game. No, I want to win it. For that, I need Erden to remain in Erden's hands, and I need the people to trust the new Emperor and the future Empress. I distrust my brother for a reason—he fools around with criminals and gets inebriated every chance he gets. He is the son of an unknown woman, the taint of our Imperial blood, yet my father loves him. Should the throne be passed to Bowen, Erden will crumble. Then, whose fault would it be?"

It doesn't matter who sits on that bloody throne. What matters most to me are those rotting in the Imperial Dungeons.

"I shall pray to the High Immortals that you shall inherit the throne," I said. "They will help you."

Wulin laughed. "Help? The High Immortals are forbidden from tampering directly with humans. They're bound by Heavenly Laws so powerful, not even the most powerful High Immortal could break them."

He tried to take my hand, but I swatted it away.

"You're angry because I killed your slave friend," he said.

The suppressed anger within me exploded.

"She has a name!" I screamed. "Her name was Miya. She had a family. You killed her because I was stupid enough to punch a mirror!"

"I have my own reason to do so," Wulin said. "She broke an Imperial law and must be punished."

"For something I did?" I demanded. "You know what's the most ridiculous part? I almost believed you. Yet, you killed a slave because of rules written by stupid old men."

Wulin was at a loss for words. He stared at me, mouth slightly agape. I was certain no slave had ever lost their temper in front of him. If my outburst called for my execution, so be it. I'd find another way to kill him. I'd resort to blowing up the palace if I had to.

"It is protocol," he finally said.

I'd come so far. There was no reason I should hold back now. "I swear to the High Immortals, Wulin. If you say protocol one more time, I will slap you. Prince or no prince."

To my horrified surprise, the crown prince of Erden bowed his head. "I'm sorry."

Hearing such humble words exit the lips of an Imperial made my anger sing. "If apologies could resurrect people, I would be the happiest person in the world," I said.

Wulin's fingers grazed my right cheek. "All my life, I've been fed these rules by my parents and guardians. Wherever I go, these rules haunt me, restraining me. Believe me, I have studied and worked my entire life to prepare myself for the throne, so I could free my people. But the values I was force-fed often resurface when I am challenged."

"I don't know if you're worth trusting again, not after what you've done," I said coldly.

He was so close, close enough to seal the thin distance with a kiss. "Then, teach me. Correct me when I am wrong. Guide me when I am lost. Teach me to become a better prince."

I stared at him, unable to believe my ears. I had played him right into my hands.

"Well, your Majesty. You can start by pointing your sword elsewhere," I said. "Find Miya's family and tell them what truly happened and send her body home. Gold Credits and food might never be able to make up for their lost daughter, but it could ease their lives."

"So be it," Wulin said. "It shall be done tomorrow."

"If there is nothing else, please excuse me." I curtsied. "I have other things to attend to."

"There is another matter," Wulin said as I turned to leave. "Mid-autumn festival is approaching. We will be holding a grand banquet in the palace where everyone in the city is invited. I want you to dance at the banquet. The Imperial Physician told me your shoulder is healing well."

"Is this another ploy where you use me to fool the people again?"

Wulin's gaze never left my face. "Yes, and no."

We stood there for a quick moment with nothing but silence between us.

"I'll be there," I said. "Goodnight."

I still felt the burn of his gaze as I curtsied again and left.