The waning light filtered through the fog, throwing an eerie halo around the trees. Princess Fengmei and I
wandered through the forest, searching for any sign of Liwei. With every step, my heart sank further into despair. I could barely breathe through the panic which gripped me, but my desperate need to find him drove me on.
Her muffled sobs pierced my daze. “Prince Liwei is
powerful and strong. Maybe he escaped. Or he might be injured, and unable to find us.” My voice rang hollow and my words, false. He would not have abandoned us while there was life in him yet.
She nodded, hiccupping from her distress as she grasped at my weak straw of comfort. “Thank you for rescuing me. But I wouldn’t be able to bear it if Prince Liwei was in danger or . . . or hurt.” Her voice broke as tears welled in her eyes once more.
A flash of irritation struck me, my nerves already scraped raw. I did not want to play nursemaid at this moment, I
wanted to find him. How could I track Liwei through her cries? If any enemies were hunting us, we would already be captured or dead. Yet I stifled the impulse to snap at her,
slipping an arm around her shoulders and drawing her close instead.
“We’ll find him,” I told her. A promise to us both.
It seemed to calm her as her brown orbs locked onto mine. “I recognize you now. You were Prince Liwei’s companion. We met the day of his banquet.”
“Yes. In the pavilion.” A longing clutched me for those days long past and the joy that had filled my heart then.
She sighed. “You were kind. As you are now.”
I fell silent as shame crept up from the pit of my stomach, rising to my face. No, I had not been kind—not now and not then. I had not realized who she was the first time. And after, I had not wanted to learn more about her, perhaps
afraid of discovering what I knew now—that Princess
Fengmei would be a good match for Liwei. It would have been far easier if I could have disliked her.
“Are His Highness and you good friends?” she asked.
My gaze slid from hers, under the pretext of examining our surroundings. “Yes, we are.” A half answer, as Teacher Daoming would have chided me.
When she stiffened, so did I, afraid that she might ask me something which would force me to lie. As she raised her
head from my shoulder, she pointed at the belt encircling my waist. “Why is that glowing?”
The Sky Drop Tassel. The once clear gem shone bright red, pulsing with a strange energy. I forced myself to
breathe deeply, to rein in the terror which surged in me anew. Liwei was in danger and yet, it also meant I could find him now.
I pulled the princess to a thicket of trees. “Wait here. Keep hidden. Try not to make a sound. I’ll come back as soon as I can. If I don’t return by dawn, head north till
you’re outside the forest—that way,” I pointed, in case she wasn’t sure. “You have your magic again. Shield yourself and attack anyone who tries to harm you. Once outside,
summon a cloud to take you home.”
I fumbled in my belt, drawing out a dagger and passing it to her. She took it without a word, her grip loose and
uncertain.
“Wrap your fingers tight around the hilt,” I instructed her. “Blade facing away from you and tilted up. If you must strike, do not hesitate.”
Her eyes were wide with fright as she nodded. Guilt struck me at leaving her, but I was running out of time. As I left, I swung around once to make sure she was hidden
from sight, before sprinting away until my legs burned like fire.
I followed the tug of the Sky Drop Tassel to a narrow
opening in the foothills of a mountain. Without a care for the perils within, I slipped inside. Pitch dark, the glowing
red gem by my waist cast a menacing light upon the walls. The dank air was stale, thick with mold and rot; I gagged when it filled my lungs. As I turned a sharp corner, I
stumbled over the uneven ground, scraping my palms as I fell.
Voices filtered through, from a distance away. I crouched low, crawling along the narrow path toward the sound,
moving faster when I sighted light ahead. The passage
opened to a wide ledge, which I clambered upon, staring into the large chamber below.
My heart lurched. There was Liwei upon a chair, shackled with the same manacles used to restrain Princess Fengmei. Blood flowed from his matted hair, trickling onto his face. A deep gash ran across his brow, dark bruises blossoming over one cheek. His aura was somehow diminished,
flickering in an erratic rhythm. Yet he held his head high, as though he sat on a throne instead of bound in chains. I
searched his guards, relieved to find no trace of the strange archer in their midst—he alone, would have been a
formidable opponent. Had he been slain by the Celestial soldiers before they fell?
One aura sprang out to me, far stronger than the rest— strong and earthy, jangling and discordant. Not from the soldiers, as far as I could tell, instead emanating from the
lady who stood before Liwei. Her upturned eyes glittered a rich shade of bronze and while the lower half of her face was covered by a sheer veil, her skin was as fair as new snow. Crimson peonies were embroidered on her vermilion dress, unfurling their silken petals to reveal bright gold stamens. A cluster of camellias was tucked into her sash.
As I crouched in the ledge above, I caught a whiff of a floral fragrance, cloyingly sweet with the barest hint of decay.
“I used a bird to snare a dragon.” Her voice was thick with satisfaction. “After all the tales of your prowess, I’m disappointed at how easily you fell into my trap, Your
Highness.”
Liwei’s jaw clenched, his muscles straining as though he was grappling with some unseen foe. “What are these
chains?” he ground out at last.
“A gift from the Demon Realm. Forged with metal from
the mortal world, using the arts forbidden by your father.” As she watched his struggles, she said in a bored tone, “Try all you want, but your magic is useless as long as these are on you.”
“Lady Hualing, why do this? Why ally yourself with the Demon Realm?” Liwei demanded.
Lady Hualing, the deposed Flower Immortal? I thought she had left the forest or vanished through some foul play. Never did I imagine her living in these dark caves.
“You were one of the greatest immortals of our kingdom until you chose to live in seclusion. Do you truly wish to
betray the Immortal Realm?” Liwei continued, his voice calm despite his peril. Perhaps he still hoped to sway her with reason.
She laughed then, a bitter and joyless sound. “Me betray the kingdom? Did you think I chose this life? Let me tell
you the real story, little princeling. Long ago, your father and I met in this forest. He was newly wed to your mother, though that did not stop him from courting me.”
Liwei jerked up from his chair, but two guards dragged him back down, clamping their palms on his shoulders.
She did not appear to notice, lost in her memories. “Whenever he could get away, he came here. He offered me a palace in the Celestial Kingdom. I refused. I was no lowly courtier grateful for his favor, but one of the most illustrious deities in the realm.” A softness slipped into her face. “One spring evening when the peonies were in bloom, he made a vow to me. That once he grew powerful enough to risk angering the Phoenix Kingdom, he would wed me,
raising me to the same rank as the empress.”
Liwei shook his head, the blood from his wound streaking across his cheek. “My father would never have made such a reckless promise.”
“Those in love often make promises they can’t keep,” she snarled. “When word reached your mother’s ears, she paid me a visit, spitting her threats and venom. Before she left, she gave me a gift.” The light in the cavern flickered as
Lady Hualing lifted her veil.
In the classic oval of her face, her full lips were a vibrant red, her nose delicately arched. The thin faded scars, one across each cheek, puzzled me—yet so slight they were
barely noticeable.
The veil dropped once more. “The scars left by the
Phoenix Talons can never be healed. I must live with these hideous marks, forever.”
I flinched, recalling those sharp gold sheaths covering the empress’s fingers which might so easily rake through
flesh and bone. But despite what Lady Hualing thought, she was beautiful still. It was the viciousness in her expression that turned my stomach.
“There must be an explanation. What if it was a spirit, taking on my mother’s appearance?” Liwei protested.
“You ignorant child. Who else wears the Phoenix Talons? Who else had I threatened, isolated as I was?” she sneered. “Worse still, your father, the faithless coward, abandoned
me. In one stroke I was robbed of my beauty, betrayed by my love, stripped of my title. Of all I cherished most. Since then, my life has been a misery, steeped in wretchedness and regret.”
As she stretched out her fingers to caress Liwei’s cheek, he recoiled from her, as far back as his captors would allow. “So, it is only fitting that I seize from my tormentors the
one thing they prize above all. You, their son. The person most loved, by those I most hate.”
“Lady Hualing, consider carefully what you do. This is
treason at the highest level. You will be an outcast from the Immortal Realm, hunted by Celestials and our allies alike.
They will descend upon this place and—”
Her laughter was shrill and grating. And when she stopped, her smile was that of a sated fox. “I’m no fool, Your Highness. I will not be here when they come. Once I present your lifeforce to the Demon King, I will earn his eternal gratitude. A bridal gift, if you wish to call it so.
Maybe then he can defeat your accursed parents, and when he sits on the Celestial Throne it will be I who is beside him. Finally, the empress,” she gloated, lifting a ring set
with an oval amethyst that glowed with malevolent light.
The sight of it stirred a deep revulsion in me, inexplicable and strange. And what did she mean about Liwei’s lifeforce?
He showed not a trace of fear. “Lady Hualing, a grave injustice was done to you. Release me and I give you my
word, I will investigate this matter. Any wrong done to you will be righted. Don’t fall for the Demon King’s promises.
His treachery is boundless.”
“As is that of your parents,” she hissed, pressing the ring to his forehead.
The cords in Liwei’s neck strained as his face clenched in agony. The amethyst flared with a shimmer of gold, just
before his eyelids fluttered shut like the wings of a trapped moth.
Something snapped inside me. I did not think. Consumed by rage, my hands moved of their own volition, releasing a fiery arrow which plunged into Lady Hualing’s arm. She shrieked, snatching her hand from Liwei as the guards
rushed to her aid. I aimed an arrow at Liwei’s manacles, just as how I had shot them from the princess. But I was trembling too much from rage and instead, it struck the chain between his wrists. They snapped apart, Liwei
slumping to the ground. He stirred then, my heart leaping as his eyes opened and fixed upon me, wide with shock and luminous with . . . some emotion I could not read. Before he could move, the guards surrounded him swiftly, shields
gleaming over them. A coldness engulfed me, fear mingling with rage as I shot arrow after arrow at them—until their barriers broke and they fell like stalks of rice at harvesttime. Bolts of magic and arrows hurtled toward me now, as I flung myself against the stone floor, rolling to
safety. I was tiring, rapidly; I had to conserve my energy.
My mind raced, trying to think of some way to distract Lady Hualing and her guards below, so I could snatch Liwei and make our escape. But then, the air pulsed with magic, the
rich scent of earth and metal suffusing my nostrils. A
brilliant green moss crept over the ledge, spreading like spilled water—its thorny roots sinking deep, cracks
streaking across the stone. I lurched up, backing away,
shielding myself—a heartbeat before the ledge shattered. I crashed through the air, falling through nothingness.
Liwei’s cry pierced my ears, uttering my name with
wrenching desperation. Below, Lady Hualing flicked her
hand toward me, dispelling my shield. No longer protected, my feet slammed against the rough cavern floor, my knees giving way as I tumbled over. Rolling to my side, I sprang to my feet as the soldiers closed around me. Fewer now, yet
more than I could take on without getting hurt. I cursed my recklessness which had led to discovery. Better by far to
have remained hidden, to pick them off unaware. But what
could I have done with Liwei in such danger? As the guards thrust their spears at me, I hauled my energy—unleashing a gale which flung Lady Hualing and her soldiers against
the rock walls.
Spinning around, I rushed to Liwei, but the soldiers— those remaining—scrambled to close around him, some holding him fast. Lady Hualing stalked closer to me,
jeweled hairpins dangling askew from her coiled hair. Her veil was torn away, the scars now vivid against the pale
fury of her skin.
“Who are you?” Her tone was thick with menace.
I drew my bow in reply, aiming a bolt of flame at her. “Stop, or he dies,” she said flatly, gesturing to the soldier
beside her who pressed the tip of her spear against Liwei’s neck.
At once, I forced my fingers to loosen, the flaming arrow vanishing.
Lady Hualing’s gaze fixed on the Phoenix Fire Bow, before sliding to my face. “Ah . . . the archer. The First Archer, is that what they call you? I have heard of your
accomplishments.” She sounded curious. Intrigued, even. “A pity that your abilities are wasted in the service of the Celestial Kingdom.”
“Who told you about me?” I was not conceited enough to believe that my fame had spread to this remote place.
She did not answer, merely tapping her chin, seemingly
lost in thought. “Your zeal in protecting the Crown Prince is admirable, to venture here where nothing but death awaits you. Forget him. Join us against the Celestial Kingdom. The Demon Realm would reward you well. Any position, any honor would be yours to demand.”
“Never.” My refusal burst out, though I cursed myself in the next instant for revealing myself so. A wiser course
would have been to feign interest in her offer and gain her trust, to have a hope of escaping. But this had always been
my weakness, my inability to think clearly when my heart was clouded.
A slow smile spread across her lips. “Oh, this is more
than just loyalty and duty, isn’t it?” she breathed in seeming delight. “A soldier in love with a royal? What could you
possibly offer the Celestial Crown Prince, except your life in his service?”
“You know nothing,” Liwei bit out. “Xingyin, you must leave. Now.” He spoke the last words as a plea, urgency throbbing in his voice.
But if I left, he would die. Alone.
“Ah, Your Highness. It appears your reputation is not
quite as honorable as we believed,” Lady Hualing sneered. “Dallying with a commoner whom you could never hope to marry. You are your father’s son indeed, plucking flowers for your own pleasure and discarding them once they wilt.”
She swung to me, her gaze intent and searching. “Do you know he is betrothed? To one of royal blood, with beauty, power, and charm. A prize he would risk his life to rescue— just as you are sacrificing yourself to save him.”
Each word about Princess Fengmei stabbed me, just as on the night of their betrothal. I had believed myself above such feelings, yet if they could be resurrected so easily . . . would I ever be free? A terrible thought slid into me, that
there was some truth to her vicious words. That I had come here to save Liwei, but would accomplish nothing except
my death. And if I died, what would happen to my mother?
She would never learn of my miserable fate, whiling
eternity away in her futile wait—first for my father, and
then for me. Why did I sacrifice everything for the one who had broken with me, who perhaps never really loved me?
It was the gleam in her eyes that gave me pause. She had goaded me well, giving voice to my cruelest thoughts—
those which taunted me in the deep of night. She wanted to make me jealous, to make me doubt my own worth. To allow hatred to slither in and sink its claws into my heart. I
inhaled a deep breath, trying to gather myself. I needed to hold her interest, to gain time to strike or provoke her into rashness. I dared not have her attention return to Liwei again, and the vile things she had planned for him.
“Yes, we were together once,” I admitted haltingly. “Now His Highness and I have gone our separate ways.”
“Was it your choice, or his?” Her lips curved like she already knew the answer.
I looked away, her question cutting deeper than I expected.
“Life would be preferable without love,” Lady Hualing said with feeling, as though I were her trusted friend. As though we were of the same mind.
Her words resonated through me. Was closing one’s
heart to love—all love—the only way to contentment? Had I not imagined so myself, during those long months of misery? Indeed, my darkest moments were when I had left my loved ones. And yet . . . the happiest times of my life
had been with them, too. But I would not disagree with her. She seemed to believe there was a connection between us. Did she see a part of herself in me? I shuddered at the idea, although now I would tread cautiously, to cultivate this
illusion to better catch her unaware.
“Perhaps you are right.” I said, letting a hardness edge my voice. “Love has not served me well.”
“Nor I.” Lady Hualing’s chest heaved. “I did not ask for
the emperor’s love, but he beguiled me with false promises until I returned his affection. When I was hurt and frightened, I yearned for his comfort. He never came back. Because of him, I lost everything, even the happiness I had before. I would rather he had died than hurt me so. All I
want now is to repay those who brought me low.”
I recoiled inwardly from the vehemence in her words.
She had not uttered her curse in the heat of anger, but as a fervent wish wrung from the depths of her heart.
“They will never change their minds,” Lady Hualing continued, her tone low and intimate. “The Celestial royals are proud, cold and unyielding. Their love, once lost, can never be regained. Ask yourself, why do you do this? Just so he can cherish your memory after he marries his princess?
Weep a tear over your grave? Such paltry thanks for so great a sacrifice. Don’t throw your life away.”
It hit me then, she believed our situations similar. That I, too, had been snared by a hopeless love; that I, too, had
been cast aside—by the son of her cruel lover, no less. And that my actions were a desperate bid to regain what I had lost.
My teeth sank into my lip, biting down harder until a
warmth of salt and iron gushed into my mouth. Like her, I had not sought love. My life had been full without it. Yet it had crept up on me, infiltrating my senses like a subtle
scent—until I found beauty in a fallen blossom and delight in a thunderstorm. However, the joy it gave me, I repaid
tenfold through my sorrow. Even when I believed my heart healed, the scars remained, reopening with no more than a touch from his hand.
Why did I do this? Her question echoed through me again. I had known the dangers when I followed Liwei’s
trail here, but not once did I hesitate. My only thought had been to come to his aid. My only fear had been for his
safety. But she was wrong; I was not trying to win him back. Was it for friendship, as I had told myself? Or out of honor, to repay the debt of his kindness? The answer
eluded me as it lurked on the fringes of my mind.
I looked up, my eyes colliding into Liwei’s—and it struck me then with the force of a thunderbolt. What I had been struggling to understand. What I had fought so hard
against before. What I had been afraid of knowing because its revelation might be my undoing. Such proud words I
had spoken to him before, of honor and duty. Lies, all lies.
I was still in love with Liwei.
All this time I kept telling myself that my feelings for him were a remnant of the past, a lingering attraction. My pride did not let me cling to him, yet I did not want to let him go. I had told him to forget us, when I could do no such thing myself. Each time he came, a secret part of me rejoiced in knowing he still cared. My coldness to him was but a mask to hide my feelings, even from myself—that I loved him still and that I had never stopped.
I stepped closer to Liwei, almost trembling now. The faces of the soldiers blurred into the background; all I saw was him. With a wrench, I unearthed the secrets buried
deep in my heart. If I did not tell him now, I might never have the chance again.
“I love you.” Tears sprang into my eyes. These I would
not conceal or blink away. “I loved you then. I love you still. I tried to forget you, to destroy my feelings. But I failed.”
Something heavy loosened in my chest and fell away, a burden I had not realized I bore till now. Gazing at him, I
was lost for a moment in our past. Through the stagnant air of this putrid cavern, I could almost smell the sweet scent
of peach blossoms.
I yanked myself back to the present, to the danger.
Liwei’s eyes were fixed on mine, his lips parted to speak— but I shook my head in warning. Lady Hualing appeared transfixed, her face alight with anticipation. Was this not what she had accused me of? Did she hope Liwei might
reject me? That I would join her, bitter and distraught? It would satisfy her craving for revenge to have me turn on Liwei—validating all she had done, all she had become,
because of her own tainted love.
I would give her no satisfaction today. I did not want to end up like her, engulfed in spite and hungering for
something I could not have . . . until it destroyed me. Those nights when my pain was at its sharpest, it would have
been so easy to slide into resentment and hatred. Yet as much as I loved him, I loved myself more. And as I was
discovering, there was no end to love—it was something which grew and renewed endlessly, expanding to encompass each new horizon. Family. Friends. And other lovers, too—none of them the same—yet each precious in their own way.
I spoke to Liwei, raising my voice to be heard. “I have no regrets. I will always cherish what we had together. I do
not resent your happiness with another, and I could never wish for your death.” This was the moment, there might not be another. My insides writhed as I met Lady Hualing’s furious stare. “I am not like you.”
“You stupid, sentimental fool.” Bright red spots blazed
from Lady Hualing’s cheeks as her eyes squeezed into slits. She was shaking now, was it with disappointment or rage?
Quick as a flash, I drew my bow, flame streaking through my fingers. It struck her chest with blinding light as she
staggered back—the acrid smell of burnt silk and flesh throttling the air. But then her magic surged out in a
glittering stream, extinguishing the fire with a hiss. The soldiers lunged at me, their weapons gleaming in the torchlight. I ducked, whirling aside, another arrow
springing from my fingers—only to strike the shield that sprang up around Lady Hualing now. As she flicked her
fingers, an earthy smell wafted forth like rotting leaves in a forest. Thick vines shot out, coiling tight around my waist
and slamming me against the ground. Blood gushed from my temple as my bow was snatched from me. Sprawled on the ground, I tried to catch my breath as the beaded tip of a brocade slipper prodded my face up. Lady Hualing
peered down at me, her lips curled in a smirk, a charred rip in her robe where my arrow had struck—though the skin
beneath was smooth, already healed over.
She was strong. I had failed. And now, she was livid. “How noble you are, loving him yet releasing him to another. Cherishing your past and forgiving the pain. Are you so self-sacrificing to risk yourself for a love that is no
longer yours?” she jeered, making a mockery of my confession. “Let’s see how your principles fare when you’re truly tested.”
A guard grabbed my arm and hauled me to my feet. Two others dragged Liwei to where I stood. Black metal bands still encircled his wrists, binding his powers—and how I
cursed missing my earlier shot. Liwei’s gaze never left mine. Seemingly oblivious to our peril, they glowed with all the warmth and tenderness I remembered.
“You risked your life for him, but will he do the same for you?” Her tone reeked with scorn.
“Let her go. I will not fight you,” Liwei said, without a moment’s hesitation.
A fierce joy sang in my veins. Even as I dreaded what
would come after, that his declaration would only infuriate her more.
Her mouth stretched into a mirthless smile. “Let’s have
some entertainment tonight. A fight. To the death. Between you two. If you win, First Archer—you’ll walk free. I’ll even let you keep your bow.” The sweetness of her tone jarred
with the abhorrent meaning of her words.
I could not have heard her right. She did not mean it; she could not. For Liwei and me . . . to kill the other to save ourselves? Was this some twisted jest to frighten us? But as I stared at her face—so lovely and pitiless—a shiver rippled along the length of my spine.
This was no game.
