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Chapter Text

Xie Lian woke to a dry mouth and an aching headache.

He grimaced as he rose from the bed, his muscles sore and screaming in protest. He could already tell that the vampire had taken an egregious amount of blood, and on top of traveling for so long, Xie Lian’s body was practically abused at this point.

When he pulled back the covers, his wooden stake fell to the floor with a clatter. It must have rolled out of his sleeve in his sleep.

He kicked it into his pack. As much as it would be a comfort to carry it on him, he didn’t want to be caught with it and invoke the vampire’s anger or suspicion.

His legs shook as he got up from the bed and a dizzy spell washed over him. Disoriented, he tried to think of what time it could be, but eventually gave up—the bedroom’s only window was covered with heavy cloth and nailed over with slats of wood. There was no telling whether the sun had risen yet.

His stomach growled and his thoughts shifted. He needed to find the kitchens and figure out how he’d be getting food here. Without it, he had a feeling he wouldn’t last very long.

Xie Lian fixed his hair and then hesitated before buttoning his tangzhuang. His fingers skirted over the sore spot on his neck, and he winced from the scant pressure. He probably sported a pretty nasty bruise there.

When he remembered the pain of last night, his body prickled with an uncomfortable shiver. The thought of having to subject himself to that again was horrifying.

More than that—he shuddered at the physicality of it: the warmth of his mouth, the strength of his hands… Xie Lian had never experienced anything like that before.

Best not to think of it.

Xie Lian shook his head and finished fixing up his appearance. Then he opened the door with the hope he could find something edible in this place.

To his surprise, someone had already taken care of it. A tray of food was placed on the floor right outside of his room, the plates topped with fancy silver covers. Xie Lian looked both ways down the hallway, found that he was completely alone, and then took the tray inside.

He ate on the bed. The meal consisted of some sort of game bird in an orange sauce, fresh peaches, and rice. There was also a beautifully carved clay teapot filled with a type of black tea.

He finished it and left his empty tray out by the door. If he found the kitchens while he explored today, then he’d take it back later.

Xie Lian walked through the empty halls of the palace and found that it seemed to be a very lonely place. He discovered more bedrooms, entertaining halls, and large galleries, all with vast, echoing ceilings that only served to affirm just how quiet it was.

Darkness enveloped everything as well. If a room had windows, they were covered with thick black drapes or boarded up with planks. Xie Lian found his way through the labyrinth of shadows with his night pearl, but he felt eerily similar to a ghost fire wandering hell.

He didn’t know how long he’d been walking; he heard the sound of running water, and then beneath it, laughter.

It caught him by surprise. Xie Lian turned a corner in its direction and was blinded by sunlight. He walked down the hallway and stopped just before a low stone wall with red pillars holding up the eaves.

Beyond it, a courtyard burst free, the grassy clearing colorful and vibrant. The laughter came from ghost fires flitting between plum trees, a few chasing each other in blurring lines of fire. Another group hovered by a large pond at the far end of the courtyard.

He stepped closer, enamored by the palace’s sudden beauty. Sunlight fell across his face, warm and welcome after his dark walk through the chilling hallways of the palace.

“Xie Lian!” a voice cried out.

A bright ghost fire zipped in his direction.

“Shi Qingxuan,” Xie Lian answered with a small smile. He lifted his arms as the ghost fire did a loop around him.

“Did you sleep well?” Shi Qingxuan asked politely.

Xie Lian grimaced, so the ghost fire switched topics.

“I’m glad you found this place! I wasn’t sure when I’d see you next,” he chattered as he floated toward the courtyard.

Xie Lian followed him. He stepped off of the stone floor and onto a dirt path twisting through the grass. It winded through a few flower beds of azaleas and hyacinths before arriving at the pond.

“I didn’t realize something like this could exist here,” he commented.

Shi Qingxuan’s flames flickered in a passing breeze. “Oh,” he murmured absent-mindedly. “Hua Cheng likes gardening, so he usually comes by here at night to weed and make sure the flowers are alright.”

“Hua Cheng…?” Xie Lian echoed in question.

“The vampire that owns the palace. The one in red.”

Surprise bolted through him like lightning. To hear Shi Qingxuan talk so casually about the monster that trapped him here made his stomach knot. It was strange to consider that he had hobbies. “That’s what he goes by?” he murmured, rolling the name over in his mind.

“Yeah,” Shi Qingxuan hummed. “But others call him Chengzhu. I think he has a lot of names.”

It made sense—vampires’ names tended to change over generations. “He’s probably been around for a while,” Xie Lian commented.

“Mn,” Shi Qingxuan agreed.

They stopped near the edge of the pond. Xie Lian sat down at the bank and stared at the surface of the water. It was disturbed by a small waterfall at the opposite end and the ripples gleamed blue from the ghost fires hovering overhead. A few carp swam by in lazy circles.

“Did he trap you all here?” Xie Lian murmured.

“What?” Shi Qingxuan replied flatly. “Who?”

Xie Lian’s eyebrows furrowed. “Hua Cheng.”

Shi Qingxuan snorted, which was odd to hear coming from someone that didn’t have a body. “No, none of us here are trapped.”

Silence permeated their conversation as the ghost fire seemed to realize his error. He dimmed as he muttered, “Well…”

Xie Lian let out a dry sigh. Everyone here was free except for him, then. “So he doesn’t make a habit of trapping humans, killing them, and keeping their souls?”

Shi Qingxuan laughed. “No, no. That’s so far off. All of us ghost fires are here because the humans would destroy us. Those monster hunters are merciless! Even if we’re harmless, they disperse us anyway.”

Xie Lian froze.

Not because he disagreed, but because he knew it was the truth.

He’d never heard it from that perspective before. Monster hunters were taught to disperse any spirits they came across for the good of the people; time was inevitable and yet unstable. No one could predict whether a ghost fire would eventually morph into a dangerous ghost. It was best to eliminate any chance of harm before it could occur, especially while it was too weak to fight back.

However, seeing the ghost fires in front of him laugh and play with such joy shook that principle inside his heart.

It hadn’t been unusual for someone to ask him to disperse ghost fires when they disgruntled the people close by. He often complied, though he hadn’t really enjoyed it. At the time, his reluctance felt like a weakness that needed to be tramped down and snuffed out.

This sudden shift in perspective left him feeling like he’d been submerged by a giant wave, knocked down and not knowing which way was up or down.

“Why are you still here, then?” he murmured, hoping to distract himself from his warring conscious.

Shi Qingxuan dimmed. “My brother.”

Xie Lian said nothing and only watched how the tips of Shi Qingxuan’s flames flickered.

“He—he’s not alive,” the ghost fire continued in the following silence. “He’s dead. But he’s here, too. He can’t let go of how he died. And—and who did it.” Shi Qingxuan stuttered to a stop. “That’s him on the other edge of the pond.”

Xie Lian looked up. He was surprised to see a ghost resembling a person sitting on a rocky outcropping close to the water; if he was strong enough to take human form, then Xie Lian should have sensed some power coming from the ghost. However, he seemed oddly dormant.

The ghost’s blue robes were cut in the former Qing Dynasty’s style and expensive-looking. The top half of his long, black hair was drawn back into a twisting silver hairpiece that looked like a work of art all on its own. But as beautiful as he was, his face seemed vacant. His deep black eyes stared emotionlessly ahead while his pale hands rested on an open fan in his lap.

“Why is he so still?” Xie Lian murmured. He’d never encountered a ghost like this.

Shi Qingxuan’s voice was so quiet he almost missed what he said. “Ever since he died, the only thing that seems to keep him here is his revenge. When… when that person is here, or he encounters something that reminds him of them, he goes into a rage. But any other time, he’s like this. Like he’s just waiting.”

He was haunting his murderer, then. Xie Lian frowned. “Doesn’t he recognize you?”

Shi Qingxuan went silent and his flames dimmed, so Xie Lian knew his answer.

“Wouldn’t it be better if…” he wanted to say if he was dispersed, but he couldn’t finish the sentence. That was exactly what a monster hunter would think, wasn’t it?

Shi Qingxuan caught his meaning. “No!” he exclaimed, burning brighter than ever. “Even as he is right now, he still has a chance to heal. It might take forever, but one day he’ll remember me. Then we’ll go back into the reincarnation wheel together.”

Xie Lian’s heart squeezed at the determination in his voice. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

The height of Shi Qingxuan’s flames shrunk as he seemed to cool down. “It’s okay,” he responded. “I know you didn’t mean any offense.”

His last words pierced Xie Lian’s heart even more. He opened his mouth to say something else, but what was there to say? He wanted to comfort the ghost fire, but he was out of his depth. His body felt weighed down by all the emotions passing through him; guilt over his helplessness, sadness for Shi Qingxuan’s situation, and shame over his role as a monster hunter.

He stared at Shi Qingxuan’s brother across the pond and felt his own powerlessness tear at his insides.

Xie Lian stood and brushed the grass from his trousers. “I’m going to keep looking around the palace. Is there any place I should know about, or stay away from?” he murmured.

Shi Qingxuan flared brighter the minute the conversation shifted. “I can give you a tour of what I know!” he exclaimed.

Xie Lian nodded and let him lead the way.

💀

Shi Qingxuan was zipping around the columns of a large entertainment hall when a man in black robes entered. His face was obscured by a white demon mask with curled tusks protruding from the lips.

It caught Xie Lian off-guard and he stepped back, but Shi Qingxuan floated over happy-as-could-be and greeted him. “Hi, Yin Yu!” he called out.

The man nodded to Shi Qingxuan before bowing to Xie Lian. “Chengzhu has asked me to take care of your needs during your stay here,” he announced, his voice mild and contrasting heavily against the aggressive tone of the mask. “I’d like to show you the kitchens, as well as the bath, if you’re willing.”

Xie Lian forced himself to relax. Yin Yu wasn’t the reason he was here, so he didn’t want to come off as impolite. He pasted a smile on his face and replied, “Shi Qingxuan already showed me the kitchen. But I’d appreciate it if you showed me where the baths are.”

Yin Yu nodded his head and rose.

As he looked up, Xie Lian froze.

Underneath the mask, Yin Yu’s eyes were the same bright, incandescent red as Hua Cheng’s.

He was a vampire too, then. And one turned by Hua Cheng.

Shi Qingxuan’s voice cut into his panic. “Will you come by later?” he asked, still hovering by Xie Lian’s side.

“Maybe,” he answered.

Even the possibility made the ghost fire happy. He flared brighter as he zipped from the room. Darkness settled over them as his light disappeared.

Xie Lian took his night pearl from his pocket. Yin Yu didn’t comment on the light and turned, motioning for Xie Lian to follow. His braided hair swung across his back with each step.

“…Would we be able to stop by my room first?” Xie Lian asked. “I have fresh clothes in my pack.”

Yin Yu stopped momentarily and turned to Xie Lian. The tusks of his mask glimmered in the light of the night pearl. “As you wish,” he murmured. Instead of waiting for Xie Lian to lead the way, however, he turned down a hallway toward his bedroom.

Did everyone in this palace know where he slept? The thought made his skin prickle.

Then he remembered that someone brought him breakfast this morning. If Hua Cheng had told Yin Yu to take care of him, then that was probably his cooking that he ate.

He felt guilty for immediately assuming the worst. His steps quickened as he tried to close the gap between himself and Yin Yu. “Were you the one that cooked for me this morning?”

Yin Yu’s steps slowed. “Yes.”

Xie Lian smiled. “Thank you! It was really delicious. But I don’t want to burden you. Now that I know where the kitchen is, I can cook, so you have time to do… whatever else you do.”

Yin Yu looked over his shoulder. “It’s no burden,” he answered. “Chengzhu has tasked me with your care.”

Xie Lian scratched the side of his head. There didn’t seem to be any room for argument here—especially if he wanted to remain polite. “Alright,” he acquiesced. “But let me know if you get too busy.”

Yin Yu nodded and they fell into silence.

They stopped by Xie Lian’s room so he could grab his pack. After leaving it unattended, he checked the contents to make sure everything was accounted for. Then he threw the pack over his shoulder and followed Yin Yu to the baths.

They were located in the western wing. Yin Yu opened the door to a large room with vaulted ceilings and stone walls carved with reliefs of nature. Pale marble columns lined a large pool at the back of the room. Steam wafted from the surface, curling over the blue tile floors and snaking around a large folding screen.

Yin Yu took a box of matches from his pocket and lit the oil lamps lining the walls.

Xie Lian followed him inside, taking his time to gawk at the beautiful architecture. The room smelled like peony and rosemary, and he felt some of the fear he carried with him everywhere relax a bit.

Yin Yu cleared his throat. “I’ll leave you to bathe in peace. You can come here whenever you need,” he murmured.

Xie Lian turned his head and nodded. “Thank you. Is there a time I need to be finished by, or…?”

Yin Yu shook his head. “Take all the time you’d like.”

He left, the door closing behind him with a gentle snap.

Xie Lian released the sigh he’d been holding and threw his pack down by the edge of the pool. If Hua Cheng had delegated Xie Lian’s care to Yin Yu, then that probably meant he was only interested in keeping him alive so he could drink his blood at night. Daytimes might be safe for him.

He frowned as he disrobed, the scratch of fabric echoing in the silent room.

Maybe he could find a way to send a message to Feng Xin and Mu Qing; if they could coordinate, then it was possible that they could figure out a solution to this whole mess. Even if he had made a deal, Xie Lian wasn’t interested in being stuck here as a blood bag forever.

He scrubbed his body clean with soap on a ledge beside the bath and then cleaned his hair. When he was finished, he rinsed by throwing a bucket of water over himself. He also took the time to shave away the scruff on his face that he'd grown while traveling.

Xie Lian waded into the pool via a set of stairs carved into the left side. He lowered himself slowly, letting his body adjust to the temperature before fully sinking in.

The warm water coiled around his aching muscles. Xie Lian swam to the edge of the pool and relaxed against the wall. He curled one of his arms over the cool tile floor and rested his head on his bicep, content to rest in the water.

Then he closed his eyes and let his thoughts melt away.

Lulled into a peaceful drowse, he wasn’t aware of how fast the time trickled by.

The sound of the door unlatching caught his attention.

Xie Lian inhaled a deep breath and jerked his head up. Panic dimly spiraled in the back of his mind. The folding screen hid the door from his view, but he quickly decided that whatever was happening, it couldn’t be good.

His pack was right next to him. Xie Lian sprung out of the water and scrambled to put on a fresh pair of trousers. “Yin Yu?” he called out.

A low voice replied, “I didn’t mean to startle you. But what kind of host would I be if I didn’t make sure you had clean clothes?”

Xie Lian scolded himself for letting his guard down just because it was daytime. He’d seen how every window had been painstakingly covered already—of course Hua Cheng could come for him whenever he wanted to.

He shook a bit of water from his hair and shrugged on a white shirt. “Thank you, but I already have clean clothes,” he murmured as he finished with the ties.

“I see,” he replied, voice flat. “You’re decent, then?”

Xie Lian furrowed his eyebrows. “Yes,” he said hesitatingly.

Boot heels clicked against the tile as Hua Cheng rounded the folding screen. He looked the same as the night they met, right down to the jewelry, though his smile now carried a mischievous angle. He did hold a pair of clean robes in his hands, but Xie Lian felt it was an excuse of some kind. Yet, he couldn’t think of why he’d use it to come here, or what he really wanted.

Water ran down his back in rivulets from his wet hair. Xie Lian gathered it to one side and squeezed his fist down the length of it, casting a large splash of water onto the floor. “Sorry for the wasted trip,” he commented, trying to fish for what Hua Cheng was truly here for.

However, he had misjudged the severity of the situation.

Hua Cheng’s posture went rigid and his hand tensed around the robes as he watched Xie Lian’s every movement, his gaze eventually landing on his exposed neck. He looked like he was trying to keep his expression carefully blank, but his eye shone with the hunger he couldn’t hide.

Xie Lian swallowed.

Hua Cheng looked like he was starving.

The fresh robes fell to the tile floor as he took a step forward.

Xie Lian’s mind raced as he took a step back, his hand stretched out in front of him. “You just fed last night—shouldn’t you be fine for another few days?” he asked, panicked. Even the most bloodthirsty of vampires could last a week before feeding again. So why did Hua Cheng look like he wanted to devour him?

“I’ve been sleeping for a long time,” Hua Cheng murmured. His next steps were so fast that Xie Lian didn’t have time to react; before he knew it, Hua Cheng had seized his hair in one hand and pushed him against the wall.

He loomed over Xie Lian, his shadow falling across his face. He'd never realized just how tall the vampire was.

The cool stone carvings dug into the muscles of his back as he tried to push Hua Cheng away, but to no avail.

Hua Cheng pulled his hair to the side, forcing him to bear the uninjured side of his neck. Lips brushed the shell of his ear as the vampire lowered his head to whisper, “Unfortunately for you, I woke up very hungry.”

Xie Lian shivered at the hot puff of air it sent over his neck. The water on his skin was rapidly cooling down and his heart hammered in his chest, the pace still quickened from his time in the pool.

He tried to fight against Hua Cheng’s grip, but his hands were like iron. “Don’t-” he mumbled, but he was cut off as fangs sunk into his skin.

Pain flooded his senses as Hua Cheng bit into his neck. He gasped and fisted the back of his red robes, desperate to keep his thoughts from the pain.

Xie Lian’s eyes strayed to the reliefs on the far wall. He analyzed the designs as he tried to shift his focus away from his body. How many leaves were on each tree? Was that a bird or a bat?

The reliefs blurred. His eyes crossed as a dizzy spell overcame him. Xie Lian gripped the back of Hua Cheng’s robes as that same fog from last night entered his brain, turning his thoughts to molasses and making the room spin.

“I can’t-” he whimpered, feeling his knees buckle.

Hua Cheng leaned back and drew his fangs out of Xie Lian’s neck.

He gasped and quickly slumped towards the floor.

Hua Cheng caught him. One of his hands wrapped around Xie Lian’s bicep and his other arm coiled under his armpit. The cool metal of his vambrace bled through the thin linen of Xie Lian’s shirt as he adjusted his hold.

A small sigh escaped his parted lips as Xie Lian’s head fell against his chest. He barely had the strength to keep his eyes open, much less recoil.

His head swam as Hua Cheng leaned down, confusing Xie Lian’s already watery sense of balance. Then his feet were lifted into the air as Hua Cheng picked him up in a bridal carry.

Moments flashed before him as he struggled to stay conscious: the cold silver of Hua Cheng’s necklace brushing his nose, boot heels clicking down an empty hallway, a sudden feeling of weightlessness as Hua Cheng lowered him onto a bed.

Xie Lian’s breaths were shallow against his pillow as he blinked and followed him with his eyes, straining his last bit of consciousness to keep his attention on the vampire.

Hua Cheng noticed his gaze and tapped a sharp nail on his cheek. "What are you fighting so hard to stay awake for?" he murmured. "Go to sleep."

As if a spell had been cast, Xie Lian’s eyelids slid shut and the darkness swirled up to meet him.

💀

“No, put it on the point to the left.”

Xie Lian moved the stone over one intersection. “Here?” he asked.

“Yeah,” the ghost fire answered. “Take that, Fei.”

A ghost fire on the other side of the go board flared. “Shut up, Bu! You didn’t even take any of my pieces.”

Caught in between the two, Xie Lian sighed.

He hadn’t planned on spending his evening moving go pieces for the ghost fires in the courtyard, but he’d been holed up in his room all morning with a terrible headache. After waking up, he hadn’t even gotten out of bed to check if Yin Yu had left breakfast out for him.

Yin Yu came in to check on him around mid-day. He convinced Xie Lian to at least eat half of the stew he’d made him for lunch, but he could barely stomach it. He just wasn’t hungry.

Yin Yu had also retrieved his dirty clothes from last night and cleaned them. He placed them on the table beside his bed before leaving.

Though he was from a high-class family and used to this treatment, it still felt odd to have such service in the palace. Xie Lian was a prisoner and an enemy, though he didn’t know if Hua Cheng had realized the full extent of that.

If the vampire knew anything about the human world, then it was possible that he had already realized Xie Lian was a monster hunter. His surname didn’t do him any favors in hiding his occupation, and Hua Cheng had already heard his aunt call his name.

But why would he let Xie Lian have full run of the palace, as well as Yin Yu’s service, if he knew who and what he was?

Hua Cheng couldn’t know. He’d said it himself—he’d been asleep for a long time. He probably wasn’t up to date with current world affairs at all.

Likewise, Xie Lian knew nothing about the vampire. Someone as strong as him should’ve inspired fear and invoked many infamous tales, he was sure—but he’d never heard the name Hua Cheng before.

It made him wonder. Would Xie Lian recognize him by a different name?

It was a frustrating turn of events. As well-trained and well-read as he was, it wasn’t often that he encountered an enemy that he knew virtually nothing about.

Shi Qingxuan had barged in not long after. He said that some time outside would help, and even though Xie Lian didn’t really believe him, the ghost fire’s tone was so concerned that he got up on his shaky legs anyway. He’d practically collapsed when he reached the courtyard.

However, the warm air and sunlight really had done him some good, and after a few hours he felt well enough to sit up, roll up his sleeves, and help the ghost fires play go.

Xie Lian exhaled a sigh of relief when Fei and Bu’s game ended. As they flew off bickering over the conclusion, Xie Lian began sorting the black and white stones back into their respective pouches.

Shi Qingxuan floated over. The board’s lacquer shone under his blue flames. “You look like you’re doing better,” he commented. “You’re not as white as your shirt anymore, at least. How are you feeling?”

“My headache is a little better,” Xie Lian answered him. “And my fingers aren’t so numb.”

“That’s good!” He flared.

“Mn,” Xie Lian hummed. He fell back onto the grass. The grass was cool and a passing ant tickled the skin on his arm. His voice quieted as he asked, “Shi Qingxuan, do you know anything about a woman that was captured just before I was?”

Shi Qingxuan hovered just over Xie Lian’s chest, generating a small chill over his heart. “How early before you were captured?”

“I’m not entirely sure—maybe a few days before? She was my aunt, so I took her place here.”

“Oh,” Shi Qingxuan murmured. “I didn’t know that. I guess it makes sense in hindsight—I didn’t really know why we had so many guests in so few days.”

Xie Lian snorted. “You consider prisoners to be guests?”

Shi Qingxuan sighed. “It might sound crass of me, but it’s hard to think of you as a prisoner here. I’ve seen what Hua Cheng does to the people and vampires who truly anger him. You’re being treated like a prince in comparison.”

Xie Lian fell silent for a moment. “What does he do?” he whispered.

Shi Qingxuan didn’t answer him.

Grimacing, Xie Lian moved onto a different question. “Was it just my aunt that he captured? My cousin is missing, too, but I didn’t see him in the cells.”

“I didn’t hear about anyone else coming here—I can ask He Xu-” The ghost fire cut himself off. “I can ask my friend.”

Xie Lian looked towards the pond. Shi Qingxuan’s brother was still perched on the same rock, unmoving. He hadn’t been alerted by the ghost fire’s near slip.

“Don’t trouble yourself,” he responded. He scratched his head as he thought of the embarrassment that could arise if Hua Cheng heard of Xie Lian poking into something he’d already given his word on.

“It’s no trouble,” Shi Qingxuan said. “Oh—I did hear about why your aunt was captured,” he continued, remembering Xie Lian’s original question. “Apparently, she tried to steal Hua Cheng’s sword.”

Xie Lian furrowed his eyebrows. “A sword…?” he murmured, thinking back to his aunt’s notes. “I’ve never seen Hua Cheng carry one.”

“He doesn’t like his sword, apparently.” Shi Qingxuan answered. “It’s a high-class spiritual weapon, so I can’t imagine why, but he treats it like dirt.”

The wheels started turning in his head. Now that the ghost fire mentioned it, Xie Lian had heard of a vampire who carried a cursed scimitar. Monster hunters everywhere knew the infamous tale of how Crimson Rain Sought Flower, the Red Vampire King, had brought the Ming dynasty to its knees because the emperor personally insulted him.

But that was centuries ago. Most assumed that he’d been killed; otherwise, why would such a powerful and wicked monster remain quiet for so long?

“I’ve heard it’s cursed,” Xie Lian responded absently.

“How so?”

He shrugged his shoulders.

“You’re a fountain of information,” Shi Qingxuan deadpanned.

Xie Lian sighed. “I’m not the one who found this place. It was my aunt—she was doing research about a legend Hua Cheng seems to be involved in. I just followed her here, so I don’t know anything more than a few pieces of it.”

“What legend?” Shi Qingxuan asked, his voice full of interest.

Before Xie Lian could respond, a loud crash reverberated in the air—it sounded like metal hitting stone. At the same time, dark clouds drifted across the sky.

A chill passed over his skin as the sunlight disappeared. Wind whipped through the plum trees, scattering leaves over the courtyard and bringing the scent of rain.

“What’s going on?” Xie Lian murmured. A storm had blown over the palace, but it was too rapid of a change for it to be natural.

Shi Qingxuan shrank into the shade of a plum tree, though he only succeeded in chasing away the shadows with his light. “It’s Hua Cheng’s doing. Something’s really pissed him off.”

Metal clanged in the distance and a terrible feeling sank in Xie Lian’s gut.

He stumbled up from the ground.

Even though he’d been hoping to connect back with Feng Xin and Mu Qing, he knew subtlety had never been their strong suit. He hadn’t thought of a way to contact them discreetly about his situation, and now he worried he was too late.

“Where are you going?!” Shi Qingxuan cried as he ran off toward the sound of swords clashing.

Xie Lian didn’t answer him. He tried to focus on where the sound was coming from—it seemed to be concentrated on the western wing of the palace, but knowing that was little help. The hallways all looked the same to him, and trying to remember how to get there was difficult.

He kept running. A hallway dumped him into the garden that sat at the western part of the palace, but it was in a section he hadn’t seen before. He stumbled over wild-growing vines as he ran towards the sounds of fighting.

Sure enough, he could make out Feng Xin shouting above the din of clanging metal.

“WHERE IS HE?!”

It started to rain. Droplets plunked against the earth in a few sparse patches, only contributing to a light drizzle.

Xie Lian caught sight of his arms and his heart twisted with horror.

Red spots bloomed against his white shirt.

The sky was raining blood.

Despite feeling better than this morning, Xie Lian still wasn’t fully recovered. His heart hammered in his chest, his lungs were on fire, and he felt disconnected from every muscle in his body. The uneven path proved difficult to run on and he tripped over a patch of overgrown weeds.

He picked himself up as another loud boom echoed close by, accompanied by the ground shaking.

The garden path led to a low-walled terrace overlooking a small clearing and a lake that stretched out north of the palace.

Below the terrace, Feng Xin was struggling to stand up as he extricated himself from a crater in the stone wall. Mu Qing hovered by his side to guard him, his saber raised towards Hua Cheng.

The vampire stood on the other side of the clearing, twirling a silver scimitar in his right hand. It pulsed with a malicious aura and emitted a slight red glow in the darkness of the storm.

Not even a hair looked out of place on him.

In contrast, both of his friends were panting heavily, but the blood rain disguised any injuries that they might have sustained. He could already tell how personally they were taking this fight—instead of fighting in their normal saber and bow combination, Feng Xin was using a sword to attack alongside Mu Qing.

Before anyone could make another move, Xie Lian cupped his hands to his face and shouted out, “Feng Xin, Mu Qing! Stop fighting him! That’s Crimson Rain Sought Flower!”

It seemed impossible, but the blood rain made it an undeniable fact.

His friends didn’t dare take their eyes off of Hua Cheng, but their postures visibly tensed. “Xie Lian?!” they both cried.

The fight was clearly in Hua Cheng’s favor, so he had no such qualms. His eye flicked up to Xie Lian. The frosty expression he wore was replaced with a crooked smile, his fangs gleaming against his lips. “I haven’t heard that title in some time,” he commented.

Xie Lian leaned over the terrace wall, blood wetting his hands as he gripped the stone. “It’s me,” he said. “Stop fighting—let’s talk this out.”

His last sentence took Mu Qing and Feng Xin by surprise. They looked up, their faces stricken with anger and shock.

“Do you even hear what you’re saying?” Feng Xin demanded. “I don’t care who he is—we’re going to kill this monster and bring you home!”

Xie Lian’s lips parted and his eyebrows furrowed as he tried to parse out a suitable response to that nonsense. They were fighting a vampire king, looking wholly unprepared and probably without backup, if he had to guess. Didn’t they see how futile it was?

During their argument, his friends turned their backs to their opponent.

Hua Cheng lunged.

Xie Lian didn’t have time to cry out in warning.

Mu Qing must have sensed his killing intent, because he turned just in time to throw his saber up in a defensive position.

Hua Cheng’s scimitar struck his sword from above. The saber shattered.

Silver shards flew into the air, cutting into droplets of blood rain. A piece sliced Mu Qing’s cheek as Hua Cheng’s scimitar continued its arc downward, the tip carving into Mu Qing’s chest and abdomen in one long strike.

“Mu Qing!” Xie Lian screamed.

Mu Qing collapsed against the ground.

A howl of rage erupted from deep in Feng Xin’s throat. He lunged forward with his sword, aiming to slash Hua Cheng’s neck.

In a move that was almost faster than the eye could track, Hua Cheng had raised his scimitar to bat away Feng Xin’s blow. Then he punched him in the face.

Feng Xin fell back into the crater in the wall as Mu Qing was just beginning to find the strength to rise to his knees.

Hua Cheng disappeared from his vision.

Wind stirred Xie Lian’s hair and clothes as a powerful presence suddenly stood behind him.

Xie Lian already knew who it was, so he didn’t flinch as an arm wrapped around his chest, drawing him back from the wall.

Hua Cheng pulled him close, his warmth bleeding into his back. The silver jewelry hanging across his chest dug into Xie Lian’s shoulders.

A thunk sounded overhead, and then the feeling of rain stopped. Xie Lian looked up to see that Hua Cheng had opened up a red umbrella over both of them.

Feng Xin and Mu Qing fell silent as they recoiled from the shock of their injuries.

The rain picked up, splattering against the stones of the terrace. The flowers of the garden had all turned red, their petals dripping crimson.

The blood rain soaked the shoulders of Xie Lian’s white shirt. “You went too far,” he whispered, his voice full of quiet anger.

“They challenged me,” Hua Cheng replied. “It was their stupidity that led to this.”

Xie Lian’s hands curled into fists by his side. “To strike while their backs were turned was dirty,” he protested. The words tasted like ash in his mouth—he knew how naïve it sounded, but that didn’t erase the sense of injustice he felt on behalf of his friends.

“I’ve never fought honorably in my life,” Hua Cheng laughed, his breath puffing against the shell of Xie Lian’s ear. “Besides, this lesson and their lives are both a mercy I won’t give twice.”

Xie Lian didn’t respond. His eyes were glued to his friends below. Feng Xin recovered first and then helped up Mu Qing, who had to lean his weight against him to stand.

Their expressions were desolate and filled with anger when they saw how Hua Cheng held him.

Hua Cheng seemed more than happy to emphasize Xie Lian’s position as a hostage. His hand dragged across his chest and then he curled it possessively around Xie Lian’s throat. The nail of his thumb caressed his jaw.

“After that utter shit show, why don’t we talk about what will actually save your friend?” Hua Cheng called down, his voice drowning in arrogance.

Feng Xin and Mu Qing seethed with so much anger that their faces turned red.

Xie Lian had a hard time meeting their gazes. Shame coiled deep inside of him—he’d let himself become a hostage, and he wasn’t sure if they could make out the bruises on his neck. He desperately wished the blood rain was enough to disguise it.

“I have good intelligence on the artifact collection of the Xie family,” Hua Cheng sneered. “You two fools will go to their manor and bring back the Jade Emperor’s Ring. Without it, I’m keeping him as my personal toy.”

…

Fuck.

Hua Cheng had known who he was this entire time.

He wasn’t just a blood bag—he was a bartering piece.

And for the Jade Emperor’s Ring—Xie Lian’s heart sunk into his stomach.

Out of all the treasures his family had collected over generations, the Jade Emperor’s Ring was the rarest and most powerful artifact they owned. It was heavily guarded, and no one outside of the family and their close associates were even supposed to know of its existence.

Hua Cheng could level cities with it.

His family would never hand it over.

From Feng Xin and Mu Qing’s expressions, he could tell that they were thinking the same thing. They were drenched from the blood rain, which only compounded how miserable they looked.

“You can’t demand that!” Feng Xin shouted.

“Why not?” Hua Cheng laughed. “You don’t think your friend’s worth that much?” He lowered his hand and pulled Xie Lian into a tighter embrace. His chin rested on the top of his head. “Should I consider this your official relinquishment of him?”

“No!” Mu Qing screamed. He panted from the pain of his wound and every breath looked like it took an enormous amount of effort. “But… we’ll need time to convince his family.”

“I don’t care how you get it, or how long it takes,” Hua Cheng replied. “I have all the time in the world. However, you might want to remember: the longer you take, the longer he’s left alone with me.”

Their face crumpled in disgust.

Xie Lian felt something black and putrid coil in his stomach.

Feng Xin snarled, “If you lay a hand on him-”

“Already have,” Hua Cheng interrupted. He removed his hand from Xie Lian’s chest and wiggled his fingers, clearly misinterpreting their words just to rile them up.

Xie Lian swallowed his despair. “Mu Qing, Feng Xin,” he called, trying to draw their attention.

They looked at him immediately, their eyebrows pinched together.

He didn’t want to think that this would be the last time they saw each other. Even if his parents wouldn’t give over the ring, there was a slim chance that Xie Lian could find a way to escape, given enough time.

And as much as he didn’t want to name any good traits about Hua Cheng, he had to admit that he at least seemed capable of reason, to have thought out this entire plan. If he could find out what his goals were, maybe Xie Lian could convince him to make another deal that would lead to his release.

“I’m okay,” Xie Lian said. “Go back home. Tell my parents that I understand, and not to worry about me.”

It was obvious that they didn’t want to comply, but what choice did any of them have in this?

He smiled, though it felt like it would break him. “Take care of yourselves.”

Feng Xin took a step forward. “Xie Lian-”

“Scram,” Hua Cheng interrupted. “It only takes one person to deliver a message. Get out of my sight before I decide which one of you won’t make the journey.”

Feng Xin’s face screwed up in anger, but before he could respond, Mu Qing jostled him. They had a silent conversation with just their eyes, and then they both turned to stumble toward the Xie manor.

Exhaustion overcame Xie Lian as he watched their silhouettes disappear into the tree line. Then numbness enveloped his emotions, and he welcomed it, preferring that over the grief that would consume him otherwise.

Hua Cheng released his tight embrace, but then he was prompting Xie Lian to turn. With silent, feather-light touches, he steered him towards the garden. They walked side-by-side back to the manor, Hua Cheng’s hand at the small of Xie Lian’s back as he continued to hold the umbrella over both of them.

The blood rain felt cool against his skin. He had to fight back a shiver as they entered the icy darkness of the palace, stepping into a small mud room.

Hua Cheng stopped to close the umbrella and lean it against the wall.

Xie Lian stood in the middle of the room, watching him.

Hua Cheng straightened and met his gaze. They faced each other in silence.

The vampire’s expression gave nothing away, but it was the first time he didn't look hollowed out by hunger.

“Why did you let me trade my freedom for my aunt’s?” He whispered. He felt as if he were missing some great piece of information-- he hadn't seen any bite marks on her. Yet looking at him now, it was clear that the vampire had been starving. Why didn't he feed on her?

Why didn't he just keep them both?

Hua Cheng cocked his head to the side. His eye scanned him up and down, clearly studying Xie Lian just as much as Xie Lian was studying him. “You surprised me,” he answered.

Xie Lian hadn’t expected that. Any other questions he had died on his tongue.

Hua Cheng had shielded him from the rain fast enough that he wasn’t entirely soaked, but his hair felt wet. He pressed a strand between his fingers and watched a droplet of blood separate and fall to the floor.

“If I’m a hostage, then you need me alive,” he murmured. “Leave me alone tonight. My body can’t sustain itself if you drink every night.”

One of Hua Cheng’s eyebrows arched. Then he replied, “Fine. But that means I’ll expect you to take care of yourself as well—don’t try to skip a meal again.”

Xie Lian wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry. Of course Yin Yu had told Hua Cheng.

“After you clean up, Yin Yu will have dinner ready for you. Eat all of it,” Hua Cheng continued.

“Alright,” Xie Lian exhaled.

An awkward silence descended between them.

Hua Cheng didn’t seem like he was going to move, so Xie Lian turned away first and disappeared down the hallway without another word.

He’d never retrieved his pack from the baths after last night’s ambush, but as he entered the room, he found that it was still in the same place. He sighed in relief as he opened it, but his breath caught in his throat as he looked inside.

His wooden stake was gone.