Jiang Cheng felt his legs give way, just as Min Qi Xue called him by his real name.

Fingers of cold dread curled inside his heart, hundreds of thoughts racing in his head. How long had he known? When had he known? Did Jiang Cheng give himself away accidentally? And why couldn't he stand up?

Min Qi Xue grabbed his hair, tipping his head up. "You thought you were so clever, pretending to be my friend?" He spat on the floor in disgust. "I have been following the path of my ancestors long before your time. Do you really think you could outwit me?" He let go roughly.

Jiang Cheng's vision began to swim and all he wanted to do was close his eyes and rest.

"Leader, I have returned." A very familiar voice said.

"Do you see?" Min Qi Xue told him. "The preying mantis means to catch the cicada, but is unaware of the oriole behind him."

Jiang Cheng couldn't open his eyes at all now, but he desperately wished to see the face of the second speaker.

"These are the plans you asked for," the mysterious person said.

"Well done, my son."

That was the last thing Jiang Cheng heard before he passed out completely.

******

He heard the the slicing sound of the whip before he felt it. The sting was unbearable, sharp and biting. He wanted to scream but held himself back.

He remembered the many times his mother had taken Zidian to Wei WuXian. Had he felt it so badly? But he would not let his captors have the satisfaction of hearing his pain. So he kept his lips tightly closed.

"We know you were sending messages. How did you do it?" Min Qi Xue shouted into his ear.

Jiang Cheng remained silent and was rewarded with another hit.

"What did you tell them?"

"What do they know?" Each question was followed by the whip.

He passed out on the tenth question.

******

"Wake up, A-Cheng." A sweet voice whispered in his ear. Cold, welcoming hands brushed his hair away from his face. "A-Cheng? Wake up."

"Shijie?" He couldn't believe it. "Is that you?" But his eyes wouldn't stay open long enough to find out.

******

He woke up alone, chained up to the stone wall. He looked around. It must be dark outside, or else he was in a place where light could not penetrate. He could make out the rough shape of a table just in front of him.

He was so thirsty. He thought of XiChen sitting on his lap and feeding him morsels, holding a cup of wine to his lips. Tears leaked from his eyes.

XiChen must be so worried. How long had it been since he had sent that last message? He wondered what his back looked like now? If he closed his eyes, he could feel XiChen's lips tracing the knots, one by one as they made love.

There was something important, something he had to do, but exhaustion claimed his body and he slumped down.

******

"A-Cheng? A-Cheng? Wake up!" The sweet voice told him. He did and immediately regretted it. He was tied up to a chair, completely immobile.

"I'm only going to ask you once." Min Qi Xue rolled up his sleeves, exposing his tattoo.

Jiang Cheng could see now, the faint differences between his own tattoo and the authentic one. Was that the reason he was found out? No, there was something else...

Another man walked in holding a cloth. With no warning, they held it over his face and began pouring water. He struggled to breathe, even passed out twice, but they were relentless.

The questions kept coming but he was too out of it to register what they wanted.

Some time later, he woke up on the floor, shivering in his still wet clothes. He couldn't move.

"A-Cheng? Please remember." The sweet voice said. "Please, it's important."

"Shijie, where are you?!" He croaked. His chapped lips made it hard to speak.

"A-Cheng! WAKE UP!"

His eyes snapped open. What did he have to remember? What was so important?

"A-Cheng, send a message. Send it NOW!" The desperation in that sweet voice had him struggling to sit up.

The fourth attempt let him lean weakly against the cave wall. The faint traces of his memories drifted in his mind, as he anxiously tried to find the answer. On that first day...there was a man... 'well done, my son...' the words became clear and he realized what he needed to do, if it wasn't already too late.

He used his teeth to bite at his robe and take a chunk off. He used the wounds across his back and arms to write with his blood. It was a horrible thing to do, even worse for the recipient, who would know immediately what the ink used was. But he had no choice.

When he was done, he activated the talisman and sent it off, hoping it could find it's way out into the open.

The effort of doing all that, plus the fact that he was dehydrated, hadn't eaten anything for a long time, took him into the sweetness of unconsciousness.