Under the Dragon's Claw - gixi_ninja (2024)

Chapter 1

Chapter Text

These were the sort of events that General Wei Shun, Field Marshal of the Western Jin army, absolutely hated.

The Great Hall of the Golden Palace of Jin had been decked out in bright red and golden blossoms in celebration of the recent victory if the Alliance of the Southern Kingdoms against the Northern Kingdom of Dali. It had taken almost a decade. Thoroughly defeated and pushed back into her own boundaries, Dali would not be a likely threat for at least a generation. The Four Kingdoms settled back into an uneasy truce.

The royal family were seated on their gilded dais at the front of the hall with two rows of tables arranged either side of the central stage. The military were seated on one side and the civil service on the other, in order of rank. Lower ranked officials were seated at the very end of the hall, far from the king’s glory.

The three initial victories against the Dali in the northern valleys, and his hand in the final battle, had seen Wei Shun promoted from Captain to Lieutenant General and finally to General Field Marshal. Despite just having seen his thirtieth summer, Shun was awarded the privilege of wearing two peaco*ck feathers in his helmet. The change of his Mandarin square from bear to lion befitted his new rank and seated him at the second row from the front with the other first tier Generals. He tried not to twitch in the unfamiliar confines of the heavy silk of his new official robe.

The musicians were placed at the front left of the royal dais. The clashes of the cymbals jolted through him. His hands scrabbled and closed around the hilt of the sword at his hip. Shun closed his eyes and took in a deep breath. No longer on the battlefields… This was no longer a cry for battle.

For want of nothing better to do with his hands, Shun raised the copper flask of rice wine to his lips, draining it for the third time - or was it the fourth? - that night. He could feel the red flush that spread from his cheeks down his neck. His skin throbbed. A servant at his elbow stepped forward, filling the vessel to the brim as soon as he had put it down on the table again.

There was a whisper of conversation towards the front. Sudden laughter exploded through the hall. Shun looked around and forced the corners of his mouth up and barked out a laugh of his own to join everyone else. He was close enough to the royals that night for the King to see if he didn’t laugh at a joke and take insult.

The music changed into a low rumble of drums that made Shun’s hands twitch again towards the hilt of his sword. He shook his head to try to clear it. If only the air didn’t feel so thick and hot. A group of dancing girls spread into the hall, each holding a cluster of yellow chrysanthemums. Applause rippled around him. Shun raised his hands to clap and his red silk sleeve caught the side of his flask and he had to bite back a curse as he righted the vessel just before it spilled its contents. He tucked the annoyingly long pieces of fabric under the table. It would mean that he could barely raise his hands above the height of his chest, but better that than embarrassing himself in clear view of the king and the full ranks of all the other civil and military leaders.

Things had been far easier when he was Captain - when his robes were embroidered with a rhinoceros and he was seated far back with the masses.

“I have heard that the king may be showing off a new one."

Shun turned to the man seated next to him who was clearly leering at one of the dancers. General Mao, he reminded himself. A third cousin of the king himself and leader of the Dali’s movements in the East. An excellent strategist but, at times, slow to move and take hold of an opportunity. He inclined his head. They may be the same military rank now, but the other man was of far more noble birth.

“Lord Mao, I am surprised that the king has found someone who could possibly improve on his already perfect troupe,” He murmured softly. “The slave handlers must have exceeded themselves this year, although I have heard that you did bring prime stock back from the East.”

Mao didn’t even bother to tear his eyes away when he answered Shun. It was clear that least one of these girls would be joining Lord Mao’s bed that night. “Oh, there have been plenty of new slaves this year in the capital, but this one is different. It is said that he comes from the king’s personal collection.”

It was at that moment that the drums softened and wistful tune from a single flute filled the air. The Ghost’s Dance. The music was designed for a single dancer, the mournful lullaby farewelling lost souls. It was one of Shun’s first memories after The Great Flood. He had stared in wonderment in the Square as a local woman had moved through the paces of the spirit of Death, scraps of white paper fluttering from every step she took.

The next dancer stepped out of the darkness into the hall and Shun started when he realised it was a man. That was something new indeed. Death was always traditionally performed by a woman and Shun could not remember any male dancers in the royal troupe previously.

The dancer was as graceful as any woman, or perhaps even more so. Stripped to his hips with oil glinting off lithe muscles, he moved from table to table. Soft white chrysanthemum petals slipped out of his fist as he walked, covering the floor of the great hall like snow. A flash of a shoulder revealed two tattoos, one the standard character 奴 for ‘slave’ and, just above it, the character for ‘convict’ 犯 inked in dark blue. His hair was not bound in the top knot of the free main but pulled back into a long braid that snaked down his back. The brown leather encircled his throat was a stark contrast to his pale skin. Shun must have been far too long with his men in the Northern valleys because it was the sight of this dancer that finally made his co*ck stir beneath his robes. He leaned back a little. The wine burned as he swallowed it. A mere dancing slave could easily be requested for the night, but if this really was a slave from the king’s personal collection there would be far too much risk to even hint at an attraction.

The twang of qin had joined the flute as the music built up to the final climax. The man was spinning in the center of the room, petals billowing out away from his figure. There was something about that posture and that body that almost looked familiar. Shun shook his head and put his flask down firmly. The wine must have been going to his head if he honestly thought that one of the king’s slaves was familiar. Perhaps this wasn’t the new dancer Lord Mao spoke of. Perhaps it was someone else entirely. Then, the light from a lantern caught the figure’s eyes and Shun stiffened.

This could not possibly be.

Lan?

“Does my dancer interest you, General Wei?”

Shun started. He turned away from the figure towards the voice that had cut through the final chords of the music. The young King Ming-wang was seated in the centre of the golden dias. In the lamp light, he looked younger than his twenty three summers. He wore the crown, with its curtain of beads, as befitted the formality of the ceremony. When he dipped his head the beads dipped forward, hiding the lily white skin and delicate features that the royal family were famous for. On one side sat the Ninth Prince, Mingyu, gaunt and buried in blue silk that looked far tobo big on his small frame. On the other was his uncle and former regent, the Grand Duke.

“Ah, Esteemed Majesty,” He could feel his face burn as he stumbled to his feet in a deep bow. “I...your dancers are graceful indeed.”

The dancer had lowered himself to his knees, his back bent is a perfect bow with arms outstretched in a kowtow towards the King.

Laughter met his words. “My dearest General, there is no need to hide if you truly admire one of my things - uncle?”

The Grand Duke stood. He had ruled for almost nineteen years while waiting for his nephew to become of age and guided the Kingdom of Jin through most of the chaos that surrounded the threat of Dali invasion. He was a pale, slender man whose silver-streaked brows arched over a fierce hawk like stare.

Shun tried to keep his eyes focussed on the table in front of him.

The Grand Duke’s lips thinned into a colourless smile. “Our Blue Orchid here is quite talented, is he not? I can promise he is also talented in other ways - although he was a little stubborn at first.” Another laugh from the King, “Still, he knows his place, now, and I know I have not yet properly rewarded you for your successes this season. Gold and land are one thing, but it is all a little impersonal, is it not?” He leaned down towards the King for a moment. A exchange passed between the two of them before the Grand Duke straightened again. “You have serviced our Kingdom well. Why don’t you accept our Graceful Flower, here, as a personal gift?”

Shun started - hard enough to accidentally glance up and catch the smirk on King Ming-wang's face. The whole room had turned silent. This must be a joke. The King - was he about to give away a slave from his personal collection?

“I have heard that the two of you may have some history together. It amuses me to gift him to you,” King Ming-wang said.

Shun sucked in a breath. His eyes raked over the slave’s back but it revealed no clues to him. The king could not possibly be referring to who he thought he was. Lan was dead. Lan had been dead for at least four years.

Shun clasped his hands together and bowed more deeply. “Of-of course, esteemed majesty. Your gracious servant is grateful for your majesty’s generosity and kindness.”

Two claps punctuated the air from the King’s own hands. Suddenly, the hall was filled with applause. “Bind the slave and prepare him to be transported to the General’s quarters.”

Shun’s face flushed more red as he lowered himself down to his seat. His cheeks were glowing. He could see that the dancer - his new slave - had risen to his feet and was moving away from the center of the hall to the slave handlers. Shun craned his neck forward. All he could catch was a glimpse of a profile that was too far away to be anything familiar. His stomach clenched. Could it possibly be?

Lan’s head was spinning as he stepped from the great hall into one of the slave’s processing rooms. He dared not to believe it when he had caught sight of Shun’s profile at the second table. Of course Shun would be in the room. Shun had passed the imperial military examinations more than twelve years ago and ascended into Captaincy ten years ago. Every military rank from captain upwards was required to join the civil service officers in the celebrations. Lan had just hoped that Shun’s eyes would be hidden amongst the crowd, not seated at the second row from the king himself. Lan had never believed that Shun would stop at just the rank of Captain but - Heavens - how long did it take for a normal military captain to ascend to the rank of General Field Marshal?

A cuff to the back of his head knocked Lan from his thoughts. He dropped to his knees, eyes downcast and bit his cheek in an effort to school an expression that tried to appear respectful.

Bao loomed over him, one hand rubbing idly at his obese stomach.“You missed two steps at the end.” Lan’s shoulder’s tensed. His nails tried to curl into the hardwood floors. Fat fingers gripped Lan’s cheek, forcing his head upwards. It was an effort to keep his eyes focused on the ground. Through his lashes, Lan caught sight of a cruel smirk plastered over the handler’s face. “It’s a pity that I can’t deal your punishment tomorrow as you deserve, but I am sure your new master will have much more than that in store for you. Do you think he’s forgotten what you said to him ten years ago? Most of the court has not.”

Lan could feel his ears burn. Did Shun remember him, remember them? Ten years, after all, was a very long time. Perhaps the Heavens would finally smile upon him, and Shun would have wiped his existence from his memory. ‘Why would I choose to marry a peasant born man raised in the mud who is too uncouth to understand anything of culture or nobility?’ Of course, those words in-and-of-themselves were rather difficult to forget when they were spat out in the palace grounds within earshot of most of the court. Lan tasted blood in his mouth. Now Shun owned him. Ten years was a long time for a man to have to plan his vengeance.

“I am sure that my new master will seek to treat me as I deserve, sir,” The inside of his cheek stung as it stretched when he spoke. “Will you be taking me to his rooms, sir?”

Bao snorted. “Oh once we have you nicely trussed like the little present you are, you’ll be delivered to the general’s townhouse. I’m sure he’ll enjoy you nicely, there.”

Lan couldn’t suppress a shudder. A townhouse? Why wouldn’t Shun have apartments within the palace like every other visiting Official? The last four years - had he actually also resided within the walls of the Capital?

A second cuff set Lan’s ear ringing. He bit his tongue and raised his wrists, one crossed above the other. Smooth rope criss-crossed his wrists, binding them firmly together, the knot finishing with a couple of strands loose for a makeshift lead. So, he would be running through the streets tonight. Lan’s stomach twisted and he could taste acid at the back of his throat.

Fingers tugged at his trousers and the cool air hit his skin as they were suddenly yanked down to his knees. A quick slap to his bottom and Lan obeyed. He leaned forward, head down toward the ground, legs spread and arse in the air. There was a pressure, a burn, and then a pop, as a plug forced its way into him. Lan grunted. Rough fingers lifted his co*ck, slipping a ring onto the base of his length, and then his trousers were pulled back up and knotted in place.

“A little present for the brave general, and a little bit of our special oil to ease the night for you, lucky boy.” It felt as if the plug began to burn. A warmth spread through his abdomen, straight into his co*ck. Lan gasped. The yanghuo oil?! He shifted his hips but that only knocked the plug against his prostate. Already, his co*ck was starting to tent his pants. Plugged, and ringed, how long was he going to have to endure? What if Shun chose to celebrate the entire night?

Fat fingers curled through his hair and tugged, hard. Lan choked before he remembered his words. “Thank you, sirs, for your kindness in preparation.” He gasped and squirmed again. There was laughter all around and his arse stung with two more spanks. Another yank to his hair brought him to his feet.

“Look, the slu*t’s all eager to spread his legs for his master.”

It wasn’t just the effect of the oil that made Lan’s cheeks flush. He couldn’t keep his hips still. For the first time in three years tears pricked at his eyes, but he didn’t dare to wipe anything away. There was a jerk at his wrists and Lan had to bite back another gasp as he stumbled forward, trying to keep his balance and the plug in his arse as still as possible at the same time. This was going to be a long walk.

It was deep into the night by the time the celebrations drew to a close. Shun yawned and swayed on his ride home. He smiled gratefully at the servant who was still out waiting for him at the front and handed his horse’s reins over with a sleepy wave. He would find his new slave tomorrow, he decided, once he had a good night’s sleep. Shun’s eyes were heavy with wine, and his fingers itched to rip off the blasted silk robe. He stumbled down the hallway - one, two, three steps - when his feet caught on something. Shun toppled forward. One hand slammed up against the wall and he managed to right himself before he fell flat on his face. He scowled, turning to see what it was and his eyes widened. Right in front of his bedroom was a half naked, bound man.

"Fools, they just left you here?”

It was a cold night and the slave was clearly shivering and flushed. Already unwell? Shun’s hand encircled the man’s bicep, yanking him to his feet and in through the door into the warmth. At least now he can finally have a proper look at the slave’s face.

He was looking away but Shun reached out and cupped the man’s cheeks, forcing them to meet face to face. The sight was enough to send an icy wave of shock over him. Those round eyes, the same shade of the mahogany table that he once polished as a kitchen boy all those years ago - that pointed nose. He would recognise it anywhere.

“Lan? Lan, it really is you.” There was no mistaking it, he would know Lan’s face anywhere, even if it had been ten long years since he last saw the man. “You - you’re meant to be dead!”

“Well, I’m not, master,” The words were soft, with no bite to them. They made Shun frown. For a moment, he doubted his own conviction. He remembered how Lan, just shy of fifteen and brimming with confidence had declared that he would be the best candidate in his years in the Scholar-Official’s Civil Examinations and Shun had better keep up. If the Lan he knew had found himself a slave the first thing he would do would be to spit in his new master’s face. What could have happened to change Lan so?

Despite, or perhaps because of, the warmth of the room Lan was looking even more flushed - and there was quite an obvious tent in his pants. The other man was also shifting from foot to foot, and - Gods - his wrists were still bound. Scowling at his own forgetfulness, Shun reached out to undo the knots.

“Lan, you don’t seem yourself.” The rope had left long angry marks in the other man’s wrist. Once, Shun would have reached out without a thought to try to rub the obvious pain away but Lan took take a step back and shrunk away from him.

“They...I was prepared for you with yanghuo oil, master.” The words were so softly spoken that Shun almost missed them. Lan still refused to meet his eyes. Shun’s eyes widened. “Yanghuo?” Yanghuo oil was one of the strongest aphrodesiacs and it was never entirely certain whether it was actually legal to use. He had heard of certain brothels forcing it amongst their less willing whor*s. A single drop couple make man or woman desperate for sex many times over.

Lan’s hands slipped from his and he stepped back. He had unlaced his trousers before he fell to his his hands and knees and the sight of it made Shun suck in a breath. Lan was red, and hard, his co*ck bound with an ivory ring, an ivory plug teasing the opening of his arse. All the blood in Shun’s body immediately flowed straight into his co*ck.

“Please, master - I am not allowed to find completion without your permission.” Lan’s hips twisted and the plea was breathy and soft. How many times had Shun wanted the other man to come and beg him to take him back as a lover? Yet, even if Shun still had a thread of anger left in him it evaporated at that sight.

“Take them off,” Shun’s voice came out as a croak. He sat on his right hand to avoid the temptation of reaching for his groin. When Lan reached behind himself to remove the plug, Shun had to look away with a groan. In all the different ways he had dreamed they would meet again, it was never this.

The bedsheets bunched underneath Shun’s fingers. This was not Lan, he reminded himself. This was all the oil. The last time he had seen the man it had been clear that Lan had neither wanted his touch nor his association.

“Touch yourself.” He was not going to force himself upon his old lover when he was in this state. “Use the plug, bring yourself to completion as many times as you need.”

Shun forced himself to his feet as Lan obeyed his order. He couldn’t watch any more of this without losing his own control. “Continue, don’t follow me,” His voice broke a little at the last of his words and he managed to hobble to his door, slamming it behind himself as he emerged to the open hallway.

He needed to find air and cold water.

Chapter 2

Chapter Text

Lan woke with a gasp. Sunlight poured through the windows forced him to squint. His breath panted at his throat as he rolled over onto his knees in one swift movement. Arms down, nose touching the floorboards. His heart pounded in his ears. Lan’s whole body hummed with tension as he waited for the crack of pain he deserved for sleeping far too late in the morning.

He waited.

...Nothing?

The silence was puzzling. Where was the scramble of bodies getting ready in the morning, the slow step of the handlers, the occasional thwap of a cane on human flesh? Lan took in a deep breath, risked a glance up - and then knelt up in puzzlement at the empty room.

He was not at the palace anymore. The King, or rather the Grand Duke, in his wisdom, had seen it fit to gift him to a new Master. He was in his new Master’s bedroom. Lan raised a hesitant hand to cup one cheek. The memory of the night before made Lan’s cheeks burn.

It had not taken long to bring himself to his first completion. It was not, however, until his fifth climax before the full effects of the oil were wrung from his body. That explained the dull ache between his legs. Shun - his Master - where was Shun? Lan looked around. He remembered Shun’s orders and then - no Shun had not been there at the end of his display. Lan closed his eyes and let out a long breath. Shun - his new Master - was probably disgusted at Lan’s display.

Lan remembered he had stared at the bed, on his knees, panting and exhausted. His seed had long dried into a white stain on the floor long before Lan gathered his wits enough to reach for his trousers and scrubbed off the mess as best he could. He had then stared at the bed once more. Was he meant to lie on the bed and await his master’s return? Was he meant to be sleeping on the floor? Was he allowed a blanket? Shun had not given him any instructions\. The safest thing to do had been to curl up on the floorboards. Less chance of Shun complaining that he had messed up the bed, more effort to reach down if Shun wanted to beat him.

The fire in the wrought iron brazier had died down during the night. Lan shivered in the cold morning air. His bladder complained that it had not been emptied since the night before. Lan glanced at the chamber pot underneath the bed. There was once a time where he would have pissed in the master’s pot, or even in the corner of the room, damn the consequences. Now, he hesitated. Was he allowed to use Shun’s only chamber pot - even if he was likely the one who was going to be emptying it later?

There was the sound of footsteps outside the door. Lan stiffened, kneeling up, eyes lowered respectfully to the floor. The footsteps retreated. Then, another set came toward him, punctuated by a bang.

What…?

Moments ticked by. The noises did not stop. Slowly, Lan rose to his feet. He ignored the muscles in his back that complained instantly. Lan pushed the door open a crack and sucked in a breath.

Shun’s physique spoke of his peasant roots, broad and heavy. Beautiful should never be a word associated with him but it was the only word Lan could think of to describe Shun in combat training. He moved like molten bronze. The early morning sun gleamed off the sweat that beaded along his broad, tanned shoulders as Shun shifted from a punch to a flying kick with grace that seemed impossible with his large form. Lan remembered waking up before the first rays of the sun appeared and sneaking past the rooms of his sleeping brothers and tutors to find a good hiding spot to watch a much younger Shun practice.

He leaned forward just a little. The door creaked.

Shun turned.

The crack as his knees hit the hard floor chattered Lan’s his teeth. He dug his head to the ground, hoping that it would somehow open up and swallow him whole.

“Lan?” Footsteps approached him and stopped. “Lan, what are you doing?”

Lan tensed. It was only the first day and he had already earned his first beating.

“Why are you naked?”

Lan opened the eyes he had screwed shut. What? He peeked upwards. Shun loomed over him, scratching his head, his head tilted to one side. “There is a chill this morning this morning. You never used to like the cold. You should put something on.”

Of course Lan should have put something on. He had wanted to wear something. The early autumn morning was frosty and goosepimples had already puckered at the skin on his arms and torso. Shun had not yet specified what he could wear. The come-stained trousers he had on the night before were bunched into a ball in the corner of the bedroom. It was the only article of clothing Lan knew he could, for now, count as his own. Lan bit his lip and counted to three inside his head.

“This unworthy slave was not aware of any clothing he was permitted master,” he said. He made sure to keep his voice soft, the words slow. He needed to be respectful. Penitent. If he was all those things, perhaps, Shun wouldn’t hurt him too much.

“Oh.” There was a moment of silence, “I guess you didn't really come with your own things.” Shun reached out past him and a soft, thick, fabric was draped over Lan’s back. “Well, use this for now. I need to bathe and I think you might want one too, so I’ll find something a little better suited after that.”

Lan’s fingers curled around the impossibly soft material. Maroon, embroidered with lions. Lan’s his eyes widened. Had his new Master just draped his official robes over his shoulders?

“Master…,” he gasped out. “This….”

The shoulder where the words ‘convict slave’ were tattoo tingled. Lan’s breath hitched. Shun had draped the robes of a high ranking official over a convict slave. Was this a test? If he accepted - was he going to be beaten for not knowing his place? If he objected - would he be beaten for disagreeing with his master?

“What did I do wrong now?” Shun was scratching his head again. “Look, if you don’t like this one…” Steps disappeared past Lan. He couldn’t swallow the shiver as the first robe was lifted away but it was quickly replaced by something else. Lan’s fingers curled around soft, navy wool.

“I haven’t worn this, don’t worry. The tailors made an error of measurement and then it was washed and well - it has shrunk beyond what I can fit. It might fit you well, though Lan.” Lan peeked up through his lashes. Impossibly, Shun was smiling. “It was a good thing the maids haven’t cut it for rags yet.”

Shun had given him and over robe, a coat of sorts designed to fit over the basic hanfu in winter. It was too fine for a slave. Lan remembered that had worn such things once, a long time ago. Carefully, he pulled it around himself. Shun’s official silk outer robe laid crumbled on the corner of the courtyard along with what Lan could only assume was his undershirt.At the back of his mind, another thought tried to emerge. Shun had not returned last night. He still had his official robes with him. Where had Shun spent the night?

Lan squashed that thought as fast as he could.

“I will organise a bath and then I will and show you where it is. I suppose you’re hungry as well - I’ll organise breakfast too. Is there anything else?”

Lan did not have any time to process those words. His bladder reminded him again that it needed to be emptied immediately. “If it pleases you, Master,” He sucked in another breath. This question had to be asked “Which chamber pot should I use, master?” He asked. Lan uttered a silent prayer to the Heavens and what ancestors he had left that he would have a place to relieve himself.

“Of course, just use mine - you need to go now? I’ll ask the maids to ensure that there are two in my room at all times. I’ll come and find you once you are done?”

Lan didn’t need to be told twice. He nodded quickly, just remembering to bow before he closed the bedroom door. He had to go before Shun could change his mind.

Lan paused at the entry to the bathing room, looking around quizzically. Two steaming hot tubs had been set up. Who was the other person?

Shun pushed past him and Lan heard a splash as his master lowered himself into one of the tubs. He clutched at the robe around himself and wrapped it tighter. Even with the added protection of wool, the morning was still frosty. He hoped the water would still be hot once Shun finished his bath.

“What are you waiting for? Get in before the water cools.”

Lan glanced up, eyes wide. Shun was motioning to the other bath. He ducked his head before his master noticed him looking. The second tub - it was for him? Slowly, he inched two steps towards the tub, then pulled off the robe and jumped in as quick as he could - before Shun could change his mind.

"Ah…”

The hot water was wonderful. Lan closed his eyes and dunked all the way in, not caring that it soaked the braid that was halfway down his head. The water was almost too hot. It was heavenly. There was a little shelf built into the edge of the wooden tub and on it he found a washcloth, a rough brush, and a small piece of soap. Grabbing the soap and the washcloth, he started to scrub as hard as he could before Shun finished.

“I really thought that you were dead.”

Lan’s fingers paused in what they were doing. Well clearly I am not. He quashed the retort to Shun’s statement as quickly as it popped into his head. Lan loosened his braid and started to wash his hair. What did Shun want him to say to that?

“Are...are there any other members of your family still alive?”

Lan sighed and slid down a little lower in the tub. What answer did Shun want? Why was Shun asking him this? How does Shun not know what happened? Was he living under a rock? He sucked in a breath and glanced up at the other man. Or was this just a part of some petty revenge?

A number of possible answers flashed through Lan’s mind. He counted to ten under his breath and spoke as slowly as he could.

“Master, my father and my eldest brother was found guilty of conspiring against the Grand Duke. My father, brothers, and their wives and children were executed. In his wisdom, the Grand Duke thought enslavement was a more fitting punishment for me. He owned me for three years and trained me as a gift for the King’s birthday this year.” His hands fisted under the water and it was a miracle that his voice held steady. Lan felt his face flush. It always surprised him how fresh the hurt, anger, and humiliation were.

“I’m sorry. Your father - he was a good man.”

The words shocked him so much that Lan’s head whipped up and he was looking at Shun straight in the face.

“You can’t mean that, saying such words is akin to treason!” The words tumbled out of his mouth so fast he couldn’t reel them back in. Lan was forced to tack on a faltering, “Master,” to the statement before he sank down into the water to his chin.

If Shun wanted for an excuse to beat him, he had it. Lan was barely able to breathe for the next few seconds. He shivered despite the steam and the heat. Nothing happened. There was no splash of a body exiting the a bathtub, or hand in his hair to pull him out of the water.

“Well, he was a good man. I do owe much of what I have to him.” There was no sarcasm in that voice. “There are not many men who would allow a mere kitchen boy to take lessons next to his sons, just because of an old friend’s belief in the kitchen boy’s supposed talent.”

A pause.

“Lan, you do know that you can look at me.”

A prickle of fear slid down Lan’s spine. Shun’s tone in that last sentence had a tinge of annoyance. It warred with the confusion from the obvious order. Able to look at him? Slaves were not able to look at any free man in the eye. Lan had been beaten enough for trying to know that.

Lan could feel Shun’s eyes on him. None of the palace’s punishments had left any scars. The slave handlers had been far too creative for that. Shun though, could now do anything he wanted. Lan belonged to Shun, totally and wholly. Shun already had more than enough reasons to punish Lan even without what lay between them ten years ago. Lan closed his eyes.

If he sank down into the water, how long before he would stop breathing entirely?

There was a long sigh and water sloshed as Shun rose from his bath. Lan cringed. Another sign. A towel and a pile of clothing moved into Lan’s line of sight. “They’re mine, so they’re probably all too big for you. I’ll get my tailor to come in this afternoon and we can pick something together that would be more suitable. I’m afraid you’re stuck with my browns and greys for now.”

Lan wanted to laugh. A master offering his own clothes? Was he dreaming? Was this a trick? The under robes were cotton, a close weave and finely spun - far softer than anything he had touched for a very long time. On top of the pile was the soft, blue over robe that Shun had draped over his shoulders that morning. Lan’s fingers shook as he reached out a hesitant hand to touch it again. It was real. Lan let out a long breath before he stood and took the towel.

Shun was also dressing not far from him. Lan couldn’t help but sneak a glance of the other’s back. He hadn’t thought it possible but the other man was more muscled than he remembered. A pale scar ran down one flank and another snaked around the other man’s thigh. Those were new. Lan frowned and tried to peer a little closer. A white undershirt suddenly obscured his view. Lan looked away before he was caught staring. It must have been the heat from his bath, but his cheeks were burning again.

“Breakfast?” Lan’s traitorous stomach grumbled at the words. He hunched his shoulders but Shun laughed. Once, Lan, imagined, he would have rolled his eyes at that reaction. He ducked his head and followed Shun’s retreating back

Lan could feel Shun’s eyes on him as they walked back to his living quarters. There was no subtlety in the way Shun glanced over his shoulders every four or five steps as if checking to see that Lan was still following. Lan hunched his shoulders.

Smells wafted past them as they walked. Fresh soy milk, steam bao buns and - Lan’s stomach rumbled again. Fried dough sticks. He pressed a hand onto his stomach as if that could suppress the noise. He used to love fried dough sticks. When Lan was eight and Shun was ten, Shun had stood under the kitchen window, Lan precariously balanced on his shoulders as he swiped two dough sticks fresh out of the frier. The golden sticks of crispy batter had been so hot they burned the tips of their fingers as they sat and munched, giggling at the exact moment when Cook realised someone had stolen part of breakfast. On Lan’s tenth birthday, Shun had managed to sneak some extra out of the kitchen just to watch Lan attempt to shove as many in his mouth as he could.

Did Shun remember the same things? Lan bit the inside of his cheek. Was this a reminder, then of the things that Lan could no longer have.

Like many private quarters, there was a table and chairs in an area away from the partitioned sleeping area. It was an informal setting of sorts, away from the formal dining areas in a large manor house. Shun walked towards the table and sat himself down. Lan’s eyes widened at the spread. There were double portions of everything. Shun had never been a small man and growing up he had a healthy appetite but between the two of them, it was skinny Lan who ate far more.

“Come here.”

Lan started and bit back a curse. He rush forward, teeth clacking as his knees hit the ground with a cruch. He clenched his hand on his lap and bowed his head. The smell of food made his empty stomach spasm. Lan’s mouth watered.

“Lan?”

A hand touched his shoulder. Lan started and raised his eyes. Shun was staring down at him with a frown. Lan could feel the weaves of the cloth between his fingers press into his skin. Shun’s expression was unreadable. Lan dropped his gaze.

There was the sound of the scrape of wood against wood. Shun had reached over him and pulled out the chair next to Lan.

“Look, you don’t have to do this sort of thing around me, Lan. Come, sit at the table.”

Lan’s fingers spasmed. Another test. If he agreed, then he would be punished for not knowing his place. A slave could not disagree with his master. His breath caught in his throat. The room was starting to spin.

“Lan.” There was a heavy weight on his shoulder again. Lan cringed but it forced him to suck a deep breath through his mouth and then out through his nose. “I...I know my place is down here, master.” Lan’s shoulders tensed again. Would he be beaten now? Forced into a corner to starve while Shun ate?

Shun’s hand moved away. There was the chink of porcelain against porcelain and then silence. Lan let out another breath. Perhaps punishment would be kneeling here, hungry, when food was so close by.

A plate was suddenly set down on the floor before him. Two fried dough sticks, two bao, a boiled and a bowl of steaming soy milk. Lan looked up. His heart pounded. Surely, not.

Shun was loading more food onto a second plate. He stood up, pulled his own chair aside and then lowered himself, crossed legged onto the ground next Lan.

“I really don’t know why you like it down here, a chair is much more comfortable.” Shun’s grin was broad although there was a strange look in his eyes. He pushed one of the plates closer to Lan. “You sounded hungry when we were bathing and I’m starving. Eat.” He picked up a bao and ripped it into two.

Lan’s fingers inched towards the food before he snatched them back. This - this didn’t make sense. “Master, what, what are you doing?” To his horror, he was spluttering.

Shun looked up, one cheek full off food. He chewed, swallowed. “My house, I can choose to sit down here if I wish,” Shun shrugged. Then, he arched an eyebrow. “Are you saying that I cannot?”

Lan gaped and reddened before he turned away. “It’s not done, master,” Lan’s fingers twisted in his robe. “But I would never challenge - ”

Shun reached forward. Lan flinched. Warm, calloused hands closed around his wrist but it was only to put a dough stick in his palm.

“Look, ignore me, just eat,” Shun said. “I can going to pull rank and insist that I also eat here like this, but that shouldn’t stop you from having your breakfast.” Another small smile that didn’t quite reach Shun’s eyes.

Lan’s fingers curled around the offering. Crispy. Still warm. His eyes flickered back up to Shun but his face was hidden by the bowl of soy milk he had lifted and was drinking from. Lan stared down at the food in his hands. Slowly, he lifted it to his lips.

Chapter 3

Chapter Text

By the beginning of the third day in General Wei Shun’s household, Lan was wondering if Shun intended to treat him as a guest or a slave. Every morning Shun would wake up before dawn to train and they would eat breakfast together - in silence - before the general disappeared, possibly to the palace. Lan was given no duties. He had attempted to tidy Shun’s room on the first day before Shun’s maid had arrived. She had taken one look at him and took the chamberpot out of his hands. When he attempted to make the bed instead, his hands were pulled away and he was shooed out into the courtyard.

For want of nothing better to do, Lan had knelt in Shun’s private courtyard. The stones were cold and hard. Even before the sun had reached the midway point, his calf began to cramp. Lan had shifted to a sitting position, ready to change back as soon as he heard Shun’s step. He did not know when his eyes drifted closed but when he woke with a start, it was moonrise and Shun was leaning over him. Lan had expected Shun would take this opportunity for a revenge beating. Shun had not beaten him. Instead, he had brought a tailor with him who by candlelight measured and dressed Lan in linens and wool that was cut far too fine to clothe the back of a slave. Shun had asked that a bed - a proper bed: not a cot or a pallet be set up in his room. Lan spent that night listening to his master’s slow breaths, his fingers running over the softness of the sheets.

The second day, Lan sat outside to wait instead. Again, he didn’t remember even closing his eyes but he jerked awake at midday to find a tray of food next to him. No slave, of course, was permitted to eat without their master’s permission. After an entire candlemark with his stomach’s grumbling and the smell of food, Lan succumbed. Just one tiny bite turned into five and before he knew it Lan had finished the tray.

Shun did not beat him. He fed him dinner, sitting next to him on the floor again.

Both nights, Shun never made a move to touch him.

On the third day, Lan managed to stay awake to midday. It was the same maid who attended Shun’s bedroom who laid the tray of food in front of him and then disappeared. Lan had yet to meet another servant. Surely Shun also employed at least a household steward and a cook. Lan frowned as he swallowed the last of his rice. Shun was unlikely to return until the evening. No one else seemed to be tasked to watching him. Lan could practically walk outside the household complex and nobody would notice.

Lan stood slowly, and stretched his protesting muscles. What sort of place did Shun live in now? A quick exploration, he decided. He would be back before anyone noticed he was missing.

Shun’s house, Lan found, was far too small for a third tier general much less a first tier one. It was as if the man had bought his first house when he was first promoted to captain and never thought of upgrading since. Typical Shun. There was a modest greeting hall, formal dining room and two small guest rooms. Lan wondered if Shun ever entertained. How could he bear to put any guests in those cupboards of rooms? How would Shun build connections within the labyrinth of politics that was the king’s court if he didn’t entertain? Could Shun not realise it was frankly an embarrassment that a first tier general still lived in such a small place?

There was one last room that Lan didn’t understand. It was far too big for the size of Shun’s house, almost swallowing up the east wall of the complex and almost the same size as the greeting hall. The gate that lead to it was small and half hidden. It must be another of Shun’s private rooms. It only had a small courtyard decorated by a stone lion standing under a young plum tree. Yet, a room of this size had to be important.

Lan stared at the doors to the room and then squinted up at the sky. The sun was no longer visible but the sky was still blue. It was not quite sunset yet. He bit his lip and then peered down the hallway. No one to be seen. Did Shun even have any other servants? In any case, he still had a little bit of time. Lan made the decision before he had a chance to lose his resolve. He stepped forward and pushed the doors open.

A study...?

Lan’s brow knitted as he made his way past a rosewood desk. Shun had been permitted to join the sons of the Cheng household in martial arts lessons because their shifu had seen his talent. That was where his lessons with them had ended. The military service exams were a test of physical skills, not academia. Like all the other servant’s children, Shun received basic literacy and numeracy. Even the little that Shun had been expected to learn had required extra coaching. Lan’s lips quirked into a little smile as he remembered the red bean bao Shun had managed to sneak out of the kitchen in return for extra lessons from a boy two years his junior. They had been absolutely delicious as he had made Shun trace out each new character he needed to learn on the hard packed soil in front of his father’s stables.

From the corner of his eye, Lan saw a cloth covered lump. This was not a usual feature of a gentleman’s study. With a frown, he reached out and gave the covering a light tug - and gasped. A qin? Music lessons had certainly not been offered to the servant’s children. The seven stringed qin zither was Lan’s instrument. His hands shook has he righted the cover. Why did Shun own a qin? Had he learned to play it properly? In his fifteenth summer, Lan attempted to teach Shun to play. Shun’s fingers, though, were rough and clumsy and they had both become frustrated with the exercise. He had yelled at Shun and called him a stupid kitchen boy. Shun had only smiled, shrugged, and then they had found much, much more enjoyable things to do with Shun’s calloused fingers… Lan closed his eyes for a moment, before spinning on his heel and walking away. The stupid kitchen boy was now Lan’s owner and master. He could not forget that.

A carved ebony screen divided the large room into two. Lan stepped behind it and found the second half of Shun’s study: a rather extensive library. This was another surprise. The Shun Lan had grown up with had no time for books. What sort of books did a first tier General fresh from the battlefields need to own, anyway? Lan’s eyes scanned the shelves and caught sight of a well thumbed copy of The Art of War. He snorted. How predictable.

Of all the books that filled the shelves only a handful looked as if they had been touched. The Romance of the Three Kingdoms was about the only other dynastic era where three kingdoms had divided their country. Most of it detailed battles. It made sense that Shun would read it, although Lan wondered how Shun managed with the complex written prose. Tale of the Wood Magnolia was a complete surprise. Lan’s fingers traced the crease on the thin paper that was pasted over the bindings of the book’s spine. Shun had not understood the plotline of that one even when Lan tried to give him the simple and abridged version.

Lan’s eyes skimmed the shelves until they rested on the only other book that looked as if it had been read more than once. Journey to the West. The cover was tattered and dog eared and the covering for the book’s spine had been half worn off, revealing the threads underneath that bound the pages together. Lan’s frown deepend. Journey to the West was the first book Lan had ever read, thrust upon his hands when he was just past his tenth summer. It was a good first book for a child to read - a complex story of the adventures of a Monkey King turned servant to a Noble Monk and their pilgrimage to the Sacred Lands. Telling the stories to an eager Shun had been an easy way to get the boy to throw his punches, in return, during their sparring practice in front of shifu so Lan didn’t look like he had been slacking off. They both earned three lashes each across their backsides when they were caught. Lan couldn’t help but grin a little at the memory. Shun had wanted more of the stories even despite the punishment, and a ten year old Lan had found telling them not unpleasant. By the time Shun had reached his eighteenth summer and was ready to sit the MIlitary Service Examinations, both of them knew the book word for word, cover to cover...

There was a creak at the door. Lan started and whipped his head around. Shun’s form was at the door. Journey to the West slipped out of his fingers, clattering to the ground. Lan’s eyes widened in horror and he fell to his knees, arms outstretched in front of himself in a deep kowtow. He was in trouble now. He had been looking around without permission; he had snuck into his master’s study and he was now caught touching his master’s property. Lan felt a tremble wrack through his body.

“Oh good - you found the study.”

The lack of anger in Shun’s voice surprised Lan enough that he remembered to breathe again. Through his lashes, he could see the top of Shun’s feet as he walked towards him. A hand reached down and Lan cringed away from it. The hand picked up the book next to him and replaced it on the shelf.

“I’m sorry, I should have given you a tour when you first got here but I didn’t expect to be so busy in times of apparent peace.”

Lan tried to hear sarcasm in Shun’s voice and could not detect a hint. He risked a glance up to Shun’s face and found his master staring quite intently at his bookshelf. He definitely did not look angry. Lan’s shoulders sagged a little in relief..

Moments passed. Lan stared at Shun’s feet. Shun stared at the bookcase. Lan’s foot went to sleep. He winced, shifted slightly and tried to ignore the prickling discomfort. The pins and needles in his foot reminded Lan of another question that had been prickling at the back of his mind since he had been here. What did Shun want with him? Lan risked another glance to Shun’s face. Even if Shun actually was angry with him, perhaps it was better to ask the question now than to risk angering him in the future.

“With all due respect master, what do you want from me?”

“What?”

Lan winced and tried to fight the pathetic instinct he now had to make himself as small as possible. “I am unsure of my role in your household, master?”

Shun’s hands reached down for him and Lan had to bite the inside of his cheek not to scramble away. He screwed his eyes tightly shut, already anticipating the blows. The hands, instead pulled Lan gently to his feet. He cracked one eye, then then other, slowly open. Shun’s face swam into his field of view. His face had barely changed in the last ten years since Lan had said those terrible words and they had parted. It was still an open and trusting book. The eyes that gazed on him were sad and filled with concern. Lan averted his gaze as soon as he realised he was staring but Shun’s hand slid underneath his chin and forced him to look Shun in the eye again.

“They might have made you a slave, Lan, but you are the fourth son of my lord and in my household. I cannot possibly have you as a slave. You are my guest.”

Lan gaped at those words. Numbness, shock rushed through him. Not a slave? A guest? What was Shun talking about? Then, the implications of what Shun meant finally sank in. A hot wave of anger rushed through Lan, choking his throat. Shun had no idea of what he was talking about or what the consequences of a decision like that would be. There was more than just the fear of beatings that was holding Lan to his slavery.

Lan jerked himself out of Shun’s hands. Fingers that shook undid his outer robes until he managed to bare the shoulder that where the tattoos that branded him for life lay. “I am a convict slave.” Lan couldn’t look at Shun. If he looked at Shun’s face again he would lose all self control and actually try to reach out and try to either slap or shake some sense into Shun. “The king gifted me to you as part of my punishment - ”

“Well, I don’t want to punish you!” Shun’s hands reached out to try to pull Lan’s robe closed. Lan must have had a moment of insanity because he swatted his new master’s hands out of the way and stepped back out of reach.

“You don’t understand Shun. The king has ordered my punishment. If you don’t partake in it, it is considered disobeying a direct royal order and treason!”

Treason was punishable by death and even an esteemed general could not escape judgement. Lan had learned that lesson already. How could Shun not understand?

“To treat me as your guest is beyond foolish for you and your entire household! I am your slave and you need to treat me as such I - master…” Lan broke off and sank to his knees, suddenly horrified. He was giving Shun orders. Gods - had he called his masters by his name? Lan’s voice shook. “I am sorry Master, I overstep my bounds. I deserve to be beaten or suffer any punishment you see fit.”

“I’m not going to beat you.” There was irritation in that voice. “For the sake of the Heavens, Lan, look at me.”

Lan’s head snapped up obediently at the order although he wished he could look anywhere else. Shun was rubbing a hand over his face, expression pained.

“I deserve to be punished. If I say anything like this in public, you will have to beat me and beat me hard, master,” Lan whispered. “I, I am sorry - I forget my place at times.” Never in a lifetime had he imagined that he would ever be on his knees, asking for a beating.

“Well, we are hardly out in the open now, are we?” Shun’s shoulders rose and fell as he heaved a breath. He closed his eyes and then opened them. “If it is just the two of us and I am the master, then I can decide that I don’t want to beat you, right?”

The cloth of Lan’s robes bunched under his fingers as he gave a short nod. “Yes, thank you master.”

“Can I order you not to call me master when it is just the two of us?”

“I - I might forget when we are not alone, and your servants…?” Assuming Shun had servants, of course, but they could not overhear. Within the capital it could be difficult to know where everyone’s loyalties lay.

Shun cursed. His fingers closed around a porcelain vase. It smashed against the wall. The shatter made Lan jerk and hunch his shoulders. Shun sighed. He rubbed his face again and shook his head before he turned on his heel abruptly and stepped away. Lan counted that Shun had paced each end of the room ten times before he spoke again.

“You’re right, Lan, of course. You are always right about these sort of things.” Shun shook his head. “The king thought it was amusing to give you to me because of our history…” He trailed off, staring at the corner where the cloth covered qin was. Lan looked down, silent. “Anyway, we do need to find something for you to do.”

“I think the king’s intention was to for me to warm your bed, master.” Lan could not keep the bitterness out of his voice. He had been bound and aroused when he was given to Shun. It had been the grand duke’s suggestion to the young king, of course, but no doubt the two of them thought that Shun would tie him down and rape him. Even Lan had not been sure what Shun would do.

That comment made Shun jerk around to stare at Lan. “A bed warmer? Ah -” Shun’s face flushed. “No - well, you can sleep in my bed. It is big enough for the two of us and likely more comfortable than the bed we found for you, but I promise I won’t do anything that you do not want. It may be enough of a ruse for the servants and any rumours that might arise.” He shook his head. “I was thinking you could play the qin for me - in the evenings. You liked that as well, right? Perhaps that will be enough for the royal court, if they try to enquire. Maybe you can read to me, too? I did like that when we were younger.”

Reading and playing the qin? Lan was meant to be a well punished slave, not a pampered pet. This was hardly punishment. It was likely not enough to satisfy the royal court if they knew but Lan nodded anyway. This was better than humiliating dances and daily beatings.“Th-thank you master.” They were outside the palace. Perhaps they were far enough away that Lan’s treatment would not be too closely scrutinized.

Shun’s arms were lifting him to his feet again. There was a brief moment when Lan wanted to just lean into the other’s touch as if ten years had not passed and the whole world had not changed. It had become dark. The moonlight streaming through the windows was the only thing that illuminated Shun’s face. A calloused hand slipped into his and Lan had to swallow against the sudden lump in his throat.

“Come on, Lan. It is time for dinner and my servants will be wondering where we both are.”

Chapter 4

Chapter Text

Lan had started sharing Shun’s bed. The first night, Shun had rolled an extra blanket in between the two of them with promises he was not going to try anything. Lan didn’t think he would mind if Shun wanted to. Shun had never shown any indication he remembered the words thrown at him all those years ago. He had proved a gentler master that Lan could ever have hoped for and Lan doubted any coupling between the two of them would hurt. Still, Shun made no move to touch him in that way and Lan found that if he closed his eyes and relaxed his breathing it was dangerously easy to just fall asleep.

Staying asleep was a different matter. Shun, Lan discovered, was not an easy sleeper. There was not one night in the past week when Lan had not be woken by an outflung arm or a sharp cry. The first night, it was an arm flung across his body and then a kick that landed on his side. Lan, terrified, had flung himself into a kowtow position on the bed only to realise moments later that Shun was still asleep. It was hard to fall asleep once awake, even more so with a restless bedfellow. Lan had found it easier to sit up, leaning against his bed post, and watch the face of his old lover through the moonlight that filtered in through the windows. This was not the first time the two of them had shared a bed. The Shun Lan remembered used to sleep like a log. What had happened to change him so?

On the seventh night of them lying back to back, sided by side together, Shun had startled Lan just as sleep started to tug on his eyelids.

“We should go to the Mid Autumn Festival Markets tomorrow night.”

There was once a time for Lan when the passing days were marked by the festivals: The Spring Festival that heralded in the New Year, the Dun Wu Festival when faces and fingers would be covered with sticky rice from bamboo leaf wrapped dumplings, and the tomb-sweeping days during the Hungry Ghost Month. Out of all the festivals, the Mid Autumn Festival had been Lan’s favourite. It was a night of feasting and moon gazing without the heavy ceremony of the passing of the New Year. Best of all, there were mooncakes: thick soft pastry crusts that surrounded a richly sweet center punctuated by a salted egg yolk representing the moon. It was autumn now but Lan did not know whether the Mid Autumn Festival had come or passed. The last four years had blurred time together in such way that if it weren’t for the the passing of each season, Lan would not have even known four years had gone by.

By the time Lan had managed to pull his thoughts together, lick his lips and think of a reply to Shun’s words, a soft snore told him that Shun had fallen asleep.

It was a warm night for the markets, unusual weather that late in autumn. The trees had long since started shedding their leaves and piles of them, bright gold and red, heaped along the streets. It was a cloudless night and the moon hung bright white and full over the streets, adding its silver glow to the streets that were already bathed with the light from hundreds of lanterns and lamps. If Lan looked up at the moon and squinted, he could even see Chang-E’s rabbit winking down at them.

The Mid Autumn Festival may have once been Lan’s favourite but it was Shun who was acting like a rather over-excited puppy. He had dragged Lan everywhere: first to the central stage in the market square where the capital’s women were competing in every skill from needlecraft to brushwork; then to the street performers. Lan had been pressed against Shun’s side in the crowd as Shun waved and cheered at the jugglers and the acrobats. Now they were in the commercial part of the the festival. Shun had his hand on Lan’s wrist as they pushed through the crowds, weaving from one peddler to the next.

“As it pleases you, master.”

A bundle was thrust into Lan’s hands, all bought and paid for. Lan allowed himself a little snort under his breath. At least Shun had not asked if Lan liked the piece of cloth. That would have been beyond the limits of proprietary and likely would attract all sorts of undue attention.

“What about this? Leather and fur - we should measure you up for winter boots before the weather gets cold.”

Inside the palace and even in the slave training yards, the rooms had always been well heated in winter. What was Shun expecting that Lan would need to be measured for sturdy fur-lined winter boots? What would the other generals and officials think of Shun’s spending? The grand duke and king would probably like Lan’s feet to freeze in the winter chill, Lan thought sourly, but he forced a smile and nodded. “Yes, master.” He tried to ignore the prickly sensation that eyes were on them and resisted the temptation to look around. Lan was meant to be a beaten, subjugated slave, not a spoiled plaything who got both a new winter coat and boots.

When they finally stepped away from the stall, measurements taken and order made, Lan chewed on his bottom lip for a moment, then took two steps forward. He wrapped a hand around Shun’s arm and pressed into his side, just like a needy pleasure slave. Lan had to stand on his tip toes to reach Shun’s cheek. His lips almost grazed Shun’s ear, as if he was about to kiss him there.

“Master, you are spoiling me.” Lan hissed into the other’s ear, the words chosen in case anyone overheard. There was no need to attract undue attention from the royal palace. Lan was loath to admit it but he had been barely a fortnight with Shun and the thought of being ripped away to serve his penance elsewhere already made him feel sick in the pit of his stomach.

Shun, though, was oblivious. His eyebrow twitched a little as he reached behind Lan to give his slave’s braid a quick and playful tug. “I am your master, I am allowed to spend what I want on you and I am not having you shame me with substandard clothing.” His voice ghosted past Lan’s ear and Lan’s breath hitched a little as an arm suddenly snaked around to grab his side.

If Shun did not live in a tiny house with a skeletal staff of servants that was barely fit for an army lieutenant, Lan might have believed Shun’s words. Instead, he hid his scowl behind a sleeve. With the man’s arm around him, Lan’s cheek was pressed against Shun’s chest. He could feel it vibrate with silent laughter. Shun was laughing at him. Lan had to curl his fingers tight to resist the temptation to jab Shun viciously. As always, Shun missed the point entirely. “Whatever you say, master,’ He grumbled under his breath.

They turned down a side street, into a lane filled with hawkers. A multitude of food smells wafted over and hit Lan. Fresh mantou bread, dumplings, fried bing…. At least the hawkers' cries were loud -- they drowned out the sound of Lan’s grumbling stomach. They passed one stall that was particularly strong and rank. Lan's head whipped around, mouth watering. Was that stinky tofu?

Shun stopped next to him. Before Lan could turn his head back, Shun had walked over to the stall and a stick with three portions of the malodorous fermented tofu was pushed into his hand, crisp and hot from the fryer and dripping with sauce. Lan looked up at Shun, eyes wide. Stinky tofu may have been one of Lan's favourite treats but he knew very well Shun hated the stuff. Why would you ever want to eat something that smells as if it has just come out of a cesspit? Lan took a bite. Crunchy, savoury, so tasty. Even the stink of the tofu seemed to accentuate the savoury tastiness. A little groan spilled out of the back of his throat. 'Th-thankyou master,' he managed to stutter out.

Shun had stepped back and was watching him. Lan was amused to note that the man was standing at least two paces away with one sleeve held discreetly over his nose. He took another two bites. Lan would have been happy breathing in the fedit odour of the fermented tofu and relishing the moment all night but Shun would likely want to leave. Why Shun had not just grabbed his arm and yanked Lan away, he didn't know.

'Is it good?' There was definitely more than a hint of derision in Shun’s voice.

Lan nodded, mouth full and then managed out, 'The worse it smells the better it is, master.'

Shun made a disgusted sound and rolled his eyes. Despite himself, Lan felt the corner of his mouth quirk. He held out a piece of tofu and was not at all surprised when Shun pulled a face and pushed his arm away. 'You always liked the weird food. I don’t understand how you can eat something that smells of feet.'

Lan shrugged and took another bite, making a happy sound as soon as the taste of it burst on this tongue. Shun rolled his eyes and looked away but took hold of Lan’s hand and gave it a small squeeze. Lan felt something flutter in the pit of his stomach that wasn’t quite hunger as he followed Shun.

They passed another hawker with a stall with rows upon rows of toffee hawthon. The line of the bright fruits on skewers gleamed in their sugar crystal encasing, almost golden in the lantern light. Shun stopped suddenly.

“Ah-ha! A real treat! Do you remember this Lan?”

Two sticks were purchased and one was thrust into Lan's free hand as soon as he was finished with the tofu. It was Shun's turn to make happy noises as he crunched on the sugar glazed tart fruits. Shun's mouth was already sticky with sugar and juice. Lan resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Really, Shun was just an overgrown child in the body of a man.

Lan bit into his more carefully, taking in a breath as the tang of the sour juice hit his tongue. Remember this? Of course Lan did. He was twelve, Shun was fourteen. The servants at the Cheng household were always given a small bonus and allowed to visit festivals and markets. He was munching on a tanghulu stick, when he found Shun gazing longingly at a stall selling the sweet treat. Lan had stared at the other boy with narrowed eyes. Stupid kitchen boy had probably already wasted his money on some other trinket. It would have served him right if he had squandered his allowance to miss out on sweets but something in the longing in Shun’s expression had Lan flick a coin to the stall keeper and hold out a newly purchased skewer on the candied fruits to the other boy. The wonder in Shun’s eyes had been worth it.

“I think I owe you one of these.” Shun said softly as he flashed him a teasing smile.

Lan snorted softly at Shun’s statement. On festival days, Lan had always been the one to buy the treats. Being a son of the household usually meant a much bigger allowance. It was not until years later that Lan understood that Shun never spent his festival day money. It all went into a pouch hidden under his thin mattress to be taken out for gifts on birthdays and special occasions, usually for his mother.

A frown tugged at Lan’s lips as he followed Shun again. Where was Shun’s mother? There had certainly been no other bedrooms in Shun’s household. Was she still alive? Perhaps Shun had another estate, away from the capital. Many officials and generals were given land by the king, after all. If that was the case, though, why was Shun spending the Mid Autumn Festival in the capital and not at home with his family?

A whistle, and then a bang broke through Lan’s thoughts. Suddenly the sky was filled with a bright red and blue light.

“Fireworks!”

Shun’s hand grabbed his wrist and Lan had to run to keep up as he was pulled through the streets and back to the edge of the market square. A large crowd had already thronged there and Lan found himself pressed again to Shun’s side. Bodies squeezed past him and suddenly Lan was so close to Shun, he could hear the steady pounding of Shun’s heart. Lan swallowed. His mouth was suddenly dry. Shun didn’t seem to notice. His face was already fixed on the sky.

“Lan, it is beautiful!”

Lan looked up and it really was. The sky was lit up with gold, red and green fire. He felt Shun’s arm tighten around his waist. The heat of Shun’s body pressed through his clothes onto Lan’s skin and every time Lan took a breath in he could smell Shun’s grassy musk scent. Lan closed his eyes, hoping Shun would not notice as he used the crowd as an excuse to tuck his head against the man’s chest.

One last bang and there was an explosion of light across the sky - then darkness. The crowd whooped and applauded before one by one they dispersed.

“Well, the two of you seem to be enjoying yourself.”

Cold flooded through Lan as if a bucket of ice had been poured onto him. He ripped himself from Shun’s side dropping down to his knees before he even saw the figure of Lord Shang, the Grand Duke. Lan would recognise that voice anywhere. Beside him, Shun had dropped to one knee. The Grand Duke had reigned as Regent for the fifteen years after the king’s father was killed in a riding accident. Even though King Ming Wang had ascended the throne five years ago, after his coming of age, the Grand Duke remained at the ruler’s right hand as his most trusted advisor. Even in the year after the king’s coronation ceremony there had been whispers that Lord Shang was still the most powerful man in the kingdom, perhaps even more powerful than the king himself. Those whispers had been stifled, gone as quickly as they had started. Whether the young king still followed the Grand Duke’s suggestions like they were law, Lan did not know. Lan was no longer part of those circles.

“Oh, do not bother with such formalities. Please rise.”

Lan stayed on his knees, teeth gritted. He knew all too well that those words didn’t apply to him.

“I hope you are enjoying the evening, your grace?” Shun’s voice was even but respectful.

“Oh, I am. It has been a wonderful night.” The Grand Duke’s eyes slid over his body and Lan could barely suppress his shudder. “I hope you are enjoying your slave. Have you been a good boy, my little Blue Orchid?”

Lan’s hands shook. He had to take a deep breath before he could be sure that his voice would be steady. A bead of cold sweat trickled down his neck. “Yes, your grace.”

Shun had moved his hand to the top of Lan’s head. Lan warred within himself between leaning into the comforting touch or shying away from it. Was he meant to be frightened of his master to please the Grand Duke?

“Ah well, good. General, if this one ever becomes too much of a handful, just let me know. I invested much of my time taming him but I would be happy to be of assistance again, if required.” There was a pause. “But of course, I expect that you would want to train him with your own methods. A spurned lover’s revenge is so sweet, is it not? Have a good night, General.

The man turned and his steps faded away down the street. Lan closed his eyes and he was still trying to focus on his breathing when Shun looped a hand under his arm and pulled him to his feet. Shun’s face was white with anger and his jaw was clenched. Lan’s stomach churned. If it were not Shun’s arms holding him close, he would have slipped to his knees again. Lan cringed instead, waiting for Shun to cuff him. What had he done wrong?

The blow never came. Shun’s hand slipped into his. His thumb rubbed at the web between Lan’s index finger and thumb. When Lan looked up again, Shun’s eyes were sad.

“I think it is time we went home.”

Lan was on his knees, head bent forward with his neck and hands in the stocks. His legs were held apart, ankles locked to shackles that were fixed on the ground. His eye throbbed from the blow the guards had given him as they dragged him out of the cell. His fingers still ached, purple swollen and useless from the finger press they had forced on him yesterday.

A pair of boots walked into his line of sight. Lan didn’t need to crane his head up to know who they belonged to. The Grand Duke. Lan’s lips curled in distaste and he spat at the man’s feet as soon as they were in range. His head snapped back at the force of the blow, but it was worth it when he saw the way his spittle coated the top of the Grand Duke’s boots.

The toe of the spit covered boot wedged under Lan’s chin, forcing his head up. “Ah, my little Blue Orchid. After all this time you still refuse to behave.”

This time, Lan managed to make sure his spit landed squarely on the Duke’s chin. Inwardly, he whooped in delight. “Why would the Orchid, the most Noble of the flowers, submit to a mere dog?”

The boot moved away from his chin. Lan grunted as it connected with his stomach. Dull pain spread through him.

“It is a pity that scarring you would devalue your worth, slave. Otherwise, I would delight in ripping the skin from your body. You should be grateful that I have spared your neck from the executioner’s axe, unlike the rest of your treacherous family.”

Lan snarled and despite the pain, twisted his body forward. The metal edge of the stocks caught the side of his neck and he felt warm liquid trickle down his neck. “My father was innocent!”

“Tsk, even now you are in denial.” Cool fingers threaded through his tangled mop of hair and Lan’s head was yanked up again to meet cold eyes and a cruel smile. “It is fortunate for both of us that there are plenty of methods of encouragement that will not leave a mark.”

In the corner of his eye, something flashed in the lamp light. Then, sharp pain lanced underneath his thumbnail and dug into the sole of his foot.

“Needles. Ingenious, aren’t they? So much pain and they won’t even leave a mark.”

His left hand was grabbed and a hot stab was forced through the web between his second and third finger. Another spiked through the tendon of his heel. Lan couldn’t bite back the howl of pain in time. He strained against his restraints but they were too well fixed.

“Poor little Orchid. Don’t worry, the beauty of the needle point is that through them, we can give you something there to ease the pain a little. Let me introduce you, Lord Cheng Lan, to this wonderful thing called yanghuo oil.”

Heat was spreading through his body. Lan gasped as another needle forced its way into the small of his back. Tears sprang to his eyes. How could it be possible that blood was flowing straight to his co*ck and he was becoming hard when he was in so much pain?

Laughter echoed. “I wonder how long it will be before a fifth rank Scholar-Official starts begging for the common prison guards to f*ck him?”

Lan shook his head. This was not happening. Yet pleasure and need were curling within him like a spring. His hips moved beyond his own control. “N-No” He thrashed against his restraints. Lan wasn’t sure how but one arm managed to hit warm solid muscle.

Lan opened his eyes into darkness.

There was a calloused hand holding down his wrist and the coldness of a steel blade pressed against his throat.

“Ugh, oh, Heavens, Lan - I’m sorry.” Shun’s voice was first heavy with sleep and then laced with panic beside him. The blade moved away and Lan could hear it sliding into his scabbard.

“You sleep with a knife in your bed, Master?” The words were out of his mouth before Lan could process what was going on. He must have had a nightmare, hit Shun in his sleep and - oh, Spirits, he had hit his master in his sleep. Lan slid off the end of the bed, knees thudding against the ground. I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry. His mouth moved but he could not get the words out.

“Lan?” There was a rustle of sheets as Shun sat up. “Lan - what are you doing?”

“I am sorry for hitting you master. Please punish me as you see fit.” Lan’s voice cracked at the last word. Shun slept with a knife under his pillow. Shun had been good to him so far but Lan had hit him. How would Shun punish him? Would he use the knife? How deep would he cut?

“You - you what?” Warm hands curled around his shoulders, pulling Lan to his feet. “I think you were having a dream and you must have nudged me somehow.” Shun’s voice was soft and slow, as if he was speaking to a child. Fingers curled under his chin, forcing Lan to meet Shun’s eyes. “I’m sure it was an accident. Lan - I’m not angry.” Shun frowned. “Were...was it a nightmare?”

Lan sucked in a breath and nodded. His hands scrabbled at the bed clothes. He couldn’t stop shaking.

“Oh, Lan.” Strong arms encircled around him and Lan felt his head being tucked under Shun’s chin. “I am sorry for how I woke you.”

There was a moment of silence broken only by the sound of breathing. When Shun’s voice spoke again, his voice was almost sheepish. “The Dali do not always honor a clean fight. Our camps were well guarded but assassins still found a way in. I had just been promoted from captain to lieutenant colonel the day that General Li was murdered in his own tent. By the time the sun rose the next day, I was promoted to General.” Lan could feel Shun’s chest rise and fall underneath his cheek. “I found it easier to sleep with a knife under my pillow and I’m afraid I am used to responding before I question. When I came home, I found I was so used to the knife’s shape under my head that I could not sleep without it. I am sorry.”

Shun’s arms moved away and Lan grabbed at them before they were gone from him entirely, pulling them around himself again. An assassin...killed in his tent... Lan shuddered. Of course he had not expected to see Shun ever again, but how close had the man come to the Yama King's court of Death? Lan closed his eyes. Shun's heartbeat was steady under his cheek. They were both here, in Shun's bedroom, alive.

Lan had never asked why Shun tossed and turned in his sleep and he was grateful that Shun seemed to return the favour. They untangled from each other and laid down. Shun's fingers grazed Lan's shoulder. Lan reached for it, pulling Shun's arm around his middle. He placed one of his hands on top of other’s larger ones as his eyes drifted closed again.

“Good night, master,” he said softly.

Lan felt Shun press his face against the top of his hair.

“Good night, Lan.”

Chapter 5

Chapter Text

When Shun woke he still had one arm slung over Lan’s body. He yawned and stretched, blinking up at the morning sun. Had he slept past dawn? It would be the first in a long time for him to do so.

Lan laid next to him. His eyes were still closed and the slow, deep breaths he took told Shun that he was still asleep. It was still a strange thing that the man he had once called young master and later, love was now lying next to him again. When Lan had hurled those words at him in front of the royal court uncouth, uneducated, born of the mud. Shun had not thought he could hate another man any more than he did Cheng Lan.

For years he imagined what it would be like if their paths crossed again. Would they pass each other in the corridors of the palace in frosty silence? Would Shun be able to humiliate Lan in a show of physical skill the way Lan had humiliated him? He had even imagined Lan having a change of heart and asking for his hand and Shun snubbing Lan by taking on a string of lovers. He had amassed an impressive library, just to spite him.

Shun had never in his wildest dreams imagined that he would be in such a position of power over Cheng Lan. It could be easily argued that this was his chance for vengeance.

Shun had heard the news of the Cheng family executions on the northern borders, four months too late. It had been one piece of news from amongst dozens carried by a harried messenger from the capital. Shun had felt his world grind to a frozen stop. He thought would never see Lan again, never be able to spit in Lan’s face or to clasp his hand in embrace. It was that moment that Shun had learned what foolishness was.

Shun found himself lifting a hand, fingers a hair's breath from Lan’s cheek. It was a temptation to touch it and remind himself that this was truly real. He pulled his hand away with a shake of his head. This too, was foolishness.

Shun slipped off his night shirt. He pulled his hair up into a tight topknot with a scrap of cloth and selected a spear from the row of weapons that were displayed along his bedroom wall. He didn't bother with shoes. Carefully, he opened the door of the bedroom so it would not creak and slipped outside.

The warmth of yesterday's evening had evaporated overnight but Shun welcomed the frosty chill of the autumn morning. He closed his eyes, warming up his muscles with routine drills he had learned in childhood.

Punch. Kick. Block. Twist. Block. Jump. Flying kick. Spear thrust. Jump back. Punch. Block.

The sword may have be most noble of weapons but Shun found that it was the spear he favoured the most. It was the most versatile of all weapons combining the advantages of staff and blade. He could use it with both hands or one, if stretched. It could be paired with a shield. It could even be thrown if the situation and range was right.

Sweat beaded at his brow and trickled down his back. His throat and lungs burned. Shun's brows furrowed with concentration as he pushed his spear towards and imaginary foe. Memories of the night before surfaced in his mind as he trained. What had the Grand Duke been talking about?

I invested much of my time, taming him but I would be happy to be of assistance again, if required.

A harsh growl broke past Shun's lips as he turned, twisting his spear upwards. Where had Lan been when Shun had indulged in those victory feasts as General? What had been done to tame him - and was the Grand Duke responsible? He imagined the Grand Duke's face in front of him and with a grunt, jumped forward pushed his spear towards it. Shun landed on his feet, panting. He blinked away the drops of sweat from his eyes and brought up an arm to mop his brow.

When Shun looked up, he found Lan standing at the doorway to his bedroom, still in white bedclothes. Lan's face flushed when he realised he had been seen and he moved quickly to kneel.

'Wait!' With three strides, Shun crossed the courtyard. He put his hand on Lan's shoulder. "You really don't need to kneel every time you see me. We will be spending quite a bit of time together, right? It would be too much time and fuss if I have to keep telling you to get off the floor."

Lan's lips quirked and he looked as if he was about to say something, but then just nodded. Shun must have imagined the other's blush. His cheeks certainly didn't look flushed now.

“Well, what are you waiting for?”

Lan rose slowly to his feet as Shun set his spear aside. “You finished your training late this morning, master?”

Shun shrugged, a little surprised. He thought Lan usually slept well through his morning training drills. 'I slept in,' he admitted. It had been a good refreshing sleep. The last thing he remembered was the feel of Lan's hands on his and the smell of the other's hair. Strange... It had been a long time since he had a dreamless sleep like he had last night. He shrugged off the thought with a groan and a quick stretch.

Shun had always been bigger than Lan. However, Lan, despite all his protestations at martial arts practice and his small size, could usually hold his own for a good period of time in a fair fight. There was once a time when the smaller man had watched Shun with hooded eyes and attempted to advantage each of the small vulnerabilities left in Shun’s attack or defense. There were even times when Lan succeeded - and crowed for days. A good sparring partner for training was one thing Shun sorely missed from the field. If Shun closed his eyes, he could remember the first time he and Lan had met - in the training yard of their shifu. Lan’s expression when Shunhad managed to topple Lanonto his back had been priceless. More so though was that brief moment when they just been two young boys touselling - as equals.

“Do you want to have a quick sparring session with me?”

Lan refused to meet his eyes. His mouth twisted. 'I am a slave, master,' he said. 'I am not permitted to raise a hand to a free man.'

Lan looked pathetic. Shun forced down the sudden heat of anger that threatened to build up again and scoffed. 'Oh come off it, Lan. I am sure that some of the palace bodyguards are slaves and they are armed and trained. If I am asking you to spar with me: that can't be a problem.'

Lan's frowned deepened. “I am a convict slave, master. I could be a danger to you if you give me a weapon.”

Shun’s fingers twitched. He wanted to curl his fingers again against the other’s cheeks and lift Lan’s face so they could look at each other eye to eye. He wanted to take Lan by the shoulders, shake him and order him to start acting like Cheng Lan; or pull Lan into a tight embrace. Shun settled for rolling his eyes. “Really now? Are you going to attack, overpower and kill me with blunted training sword in your hand?”

Lan met his eyes and looked away. Shun couldn't read his expression. 'I'm not going to kill you, master. I...' He paused, 'It has been a few years. I might be out of practice.'

'Oh, you will be fine. Weren’t you always out of practice anyway?” Shun changed tack when his teasing voice failed to elicit a response. “It's all muscle memory anyway, and I promise I will go easy on you.' He waited patiently for an answer.

Lan gave a slow nod and Shun couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face. Success! He found a training sword for the both of them and tossed one to Lan. 'You should take your shirt off - do you want to warm up?'

They went through the warm up drills together in silence. If Shun snuck the occasional appreciative glance at Lan, it was only to check Lan's form. Lan had always been of slim build but the scholar's softness was gone and had wiry muscle replaced it. It didn't take long for a sheen of sweat to coat Lan’s body.

'Ready?'

Lan met Shun's eyes and gave a quick nod.

Shun smiled and clasped his hands and bowed. Lan's eyes widened in shock.

“Master - you’re not supposed to -”

Shun snorted. He swung out his sword and forced Lan blocked it clumsily, cutting off his words. He swung his sword back around and Lan managed to duck out of the way just in time.

Shun took two steps back. Lan was eyeing him warily now and Lan suddenly lunged forward. Shun parried the strike before bring his sword down in an arch aimed at the other’s shoulder. Lan managed to block that just in time and it opened up his left side. Shun feigned to the right and then thrust quickly towards Lan’s left. Lan side stepped, bringing his blade down across the other’s.

A little slow perhaps, but certainly not as “out of practice” as Lan had said. Shun grinned as he watched Lan’s chest, waiting to see a twitch of muscle that would betray his next move. He managed to sidestep two Lan’s next blows and then caught an opening, the blunted point of the practice sword tapping Lan’s thigh. Lan frowned and jumped back then stepped towards him an a flurry of strikes. Shun blocked each of then found another opening. He twisted, and used the hilt of the sword as a blunt force against the other’s wrist. It was enough to knock the sword out of Lan’s hand. It clashed as it hit the ground.

Lan took two steps back but it was easy enough now for Shun to step around Lan and bring the point of his sword just under Lan’s collarbone.

Lan held his hands up in the air, panting. “I don’t think I am going to be able to overpower you any time soon, master.”

Shun laughed. “You weren’t that bad,” he said.

“I remember even at my best, you beat me four times out of five. Master.” Was it his imagination or did Lan’s lip twitch into a smile?

“I miss having a sparring partner. We should train together in the mornings. There is no law against convict slaves holding a weapon. ”

Lan’s smile - if it was that - was gone. His eyes were fixed on the ground again. If anything, he looked like he was trying not to scowl. “No master - but it is unseemly.”

“Well then if it is in my own private courtyard I cannot see how the royal court would care.” Lan opened his mouth to speak again but Shun shook his head. “If anyone finds out, we’ll just tell them I ordered you to hold a blunt practice sword. If I managed to run into it while I was leaping around you doing drills, then it is my own fault, is it not?” Of course, Lan had never been overly keep on any martial arts practice at all. “Unless….If you don’t want to train with me, you don’t have to, Lan”

Lan’s eyebrows twitched for a moment before he shrugged. “Not if you fall onto the sword I happen to be holding onto, no, I suppose it could not be this clumsy slave’s fault.” He said slowly before his shoulders sagged in a sigh. “I will do whatever it is you want of me, master.”

That wasn’t quite the answer that he had really been looking for. Shun forced himself to smile. Lan had waved a sword at his face and perhaps smiled once that morning. These were small victories.

The days were becoming shorter and the talks and plans for the border fortifications over winter were finally drawing to a close. One week after the Mid Autumn Festival, Shun was granted permission to return home. After his first victory as General, the king had gifted him with a large estate in the north: two days’ ride from the capital and just over one day’s hard ride from the border. His mother had moved there to help manage it in his absence. This year, she had excused his need to stay in the capital past Mid Autumn Festival but she would be more than furious if she found out he had stayed in the capital one day longer than necessary.

Shun had made enough trips between his new home and the capital that the servants were well used to the preparations. He liked to travel light with one horse. Saddlebags could hold a small amount of food and immediate supplies. A bedroll and a tent was fastened on the back of his saddle, just in case he needed to spend the night outdoors as all the extra luggage required. In any case, there were usually more than enough inns and villages for him to lay his head down for the night.

Shun had planned to leave by early morning but he had left a gift for his mother back in the desk in his study and he left breakfast with Lan to retrieve it. He dressed simply and his hair was bound simply at the base of his neck rather than in a topknot or bound into a guan headdress that would denote his rank. These sort of things would attract far less attention. Be ready to leave as soon as breakfast has finished he had ordered the servants. The first day was the hardest ride and the longest distance between the capital and the first town. If he left too late, they would be camping out in the open.

Shun found the small package for his mother and tucked it in his jacket. About to hurry towards the entrance of his house, Shun paused as he passed his bedroom. A choice of swords and weapons lined one wall, a mix of function and display. Lan would be riding with him. He had not given any instruction to his servants that he had wanted Lan armed. However, if by unlikely chance they were attacked by brigands two armed men would do better than one. His fingers curled around a light sword, something similar to their practice weapons. With it in his grasp, Shun moved quickly back to the entrance of his house. It would not do for him to be the one to delay leaving.

Shun should have noticed that something was odd as he approached the front gates. There was only one horse when there were two travellers. He started at the doorway when he saw why and spun around to face his steward, unable to keep the fierce surge of anger from flashing from his eyes. “What is the meaning of this?”

There was one horse because Lan had been tethered to the saddle on a length of thick rope. His wrists were bound. He stared at the ground, shoulders hunched. A small bulge of muscle at his jaw betrayed the tension there.

“He is a convict-slave, General, and a traitor. He can run behind you as you ride.” Dong had served Shun since he had first left the capital as a gangly eighteen year old lieutenant, his armour not yet scratched in battle. He wasn’t afraid to meet Shun’s eyes with a scowl of his own.

Shun forced himself to count to ten in his head. Dong for the most part had proved an excellent manservant and steward. Shun’s household may be small but he managed it well and the servants Dong hired were committed and loyal.

“I cannot ride beyond a trot if he is to run behind me,” he finally said. It was difficult to keep it from coming out as a snarl. “At that rate it will take me five days to ride to Yangnan. Untie him and find him a proper mount from my stables.”

There was a terse nod from Lan but Shun viewed with satisfaction when Lan was untied. The way Lan refused to look up at him made Shun’s chest ache.When Dong and a stable boy brought back out Lan’s mount though, Shun felt his blood boil again.

“A mule? I said I wanted a proper mount.”

The stable boy paled and looked like he wanted to turn and run. Dong crossed his arms over his chest and returned Shun’s glare. “He is a slave. General.”

Shun had, of course, ridden mules and donkeys in his youth. Those, after all were the mounts reserved for servants, peasants and the very fortunate slave. He could not bear to see Lan on anything other than a horse. His jaw tightened. “I have more than just one horse and one donkey in my stables, Dong.”

“Master - it is fine.” Lan’s voice, sharp and clear, sliced through the fog of anger that surrounded Shun’s mind. He had moved towards the mule. One of his hands gripped the reins and the other gently stroked the beast’s muzzle. “I am grateful for this kindness, I do not deserve.”

Lan didn’t need to be grateful and he deserved more than to be dragged through the streets on rope like a common prisoner. He deserved more than to be parked on the back of a simple mule like serving boy. Still, Shun was outnumbered by his servants and his new slave. He huffed and moved to hand the spare sword to Lan. “Take this, we may need it on our journey.”

Lan looked up at him, brow furrowed and Shun decided that sometimes, pulling rank was needed. “That is an order.”

“General!”

Shun spun around. “What is it this time?” If Dong kept up this impertinence, he would have to let the man go, no matter how valuable his service.

“You - you are are arming a convict slave?”

Shun let out a long breath. This again. “It is my sword and he is my slave. I want to take this sword back to my estate and my slave is going to hold onto it for me.” He said.

“You...you need another sword on your estate?”

“Yes. I do,” Shun’s jaw tightened. He could feel the sun’s rays creeping down his neck. It was already higher than he would have liked it to be before they left. Ignoring his steward, he slid onto his horse’s back. In the corner of his eye, he watched Lan do the same. “He is just holding onto the blade me, Dong. Besides, if we get attacked on the roads, the brigands we meet may have the poor fortune to fall on the sword he is holding. That would be good fortune for me, would it not?” Shun rolled his eyes and nudged his horse to movement before Dong could reply.

“I will see you next summer.”

Chapter 6

Chapter Text

It was midmorning by the time they rode past the high walls that surrounded the capital. Shun wasn’t sure if it was his imagination or if Lan’s shoulders had really sagged a little in relief when the city gates had closed behind them. The walls of the city fell behind them, and clusters of village houses stretched out to green fields. Lan was silent and exactly three paces behind Shun. Shun would glance back at the him occasionally but Lan’s face was carefully blank as he gazed out onto the road. It was difficult to know what he was thinking.

They broke for lunch when the sun hit the highest point in the sky. The road they took wound through a bamboo forest and Shun had found a small clearing where they were able to dismount. He passed a parcel of two bao to Lan - the fastest things to spoil and therefore the first things to be eaten - and a flask of water; before biting into his own food.

“We travelled like this once, Master.”

The words were so unexpected that Shun choked on before he turned to face Lan with startled eyes. Yes, they had travelled like this before. When Lan was fifteen they had travelled to the Capital to await the news of his third older brother’s results at the Civil Examinations. It had been Shun on the mule then, and Lan on a horse.

Lan offered Shun the flask of water. There was still tension in his shoulders and a wariness in Lan’s eyes. Shun tried to dissolve it all with a smile as he took the bottle and drank, gratefully.

“It was both our first time travelling to the capital,” Shun said, words slow and careful. “Your father wanted to send more men with you but you convinced him otherwise.”

Lan nodded. “He was worried about my safety. I told him that two young boys travelling together were much less likely to attract attention than an entire litter - and that you had more than enough combat training.” As Lan spoke, some of the wariness lifted and his lips began to curl into a wistful smile. Shun wondered if he could capture this moment forever. Then, Lan’s eyes lowered and the smile vanished. “Thank you for allowing me to ride, Master.”

Shun scoffed, and he made a show of punching Lan’s shoulder playfully. “What? Was I going to drag you running behind me all the way to Yangnan? Two days along these roads - your shoes wouldn’t survive and you would slow me down. Then when your feet were ruined I would have had to tie you to the back of my poor horse who wouldn’t survive with the weight of both of us.”

That statement was rewarded with a soft snort. “I would have been able to keep pace. I...my swordsmanship is lacking but they have found other ways to keep me physically fit.”

Other ways to keep me physically fit. Shun wasn’t sure if it was Lan’s choice of words or his tone but it suddenly turned his stomach. The question of how hung between them, unspoken. Then Lan broke the moment by tilting his head back and squinting at the sun. “How far a ride is it to Chungsuo now, Master?”

Chungsuo was the nearest village. Shun followed Lan’s actions and cursed. The sun, high in the sky when they had stopped had already started to descend. He stood, brushing the last crumbs from this clothes. “We need to get going.”

Silence dominated their afternoon journey, broken only by the clip-clop of hooves. Whatever had provoked Lan to speak when they had stopped for lunch was gone, but his words lingered.

We have travelled like this once before….

It had been a very different journey: two boys who had thought themselves in love. There had been little silence and plenty of laughter. A scrap of memory floated into Shun’s mind and he grinned. There was another good reason why there had been little silence that journey. Shun opened his mouth and - started to sing. It was a common folk tune often sung by the kitchen staff as they worked to finish the scrubbing and cleaning. Lan had overheard it one day and demanded Shun teach it to him. They had sung the song together, under the dappled shade of forest trees the last time they had rode to the capital together.

The jasmine flower unfurls its scent

In the sweet mountain air and the cool river breeze

While I travel through jiangnan and fortune I seek

My darling - will you wait for me?

When Shun started on the second verse, he was surprised to hear a thin tenor join his baritone. He turned around on the saddle with a wide smile. Lan’s voice faltered for moment before he met Shun’s eyes. Shun raised an eyebrow and Lan lifted his eyes heavenward, a smile breaking over his face for the second time that day. They sang together, and Shun pulled lightly on his reins, slowing his horse’s pace so they rode side by side.

“We should sing Under The Plum Tree next.” Shun said when they had finished.

Lan’s eyebrows shot up. “Master, it is a male and female duet.”

“Yes, and you have never let me sing the male part before,” Shun teased, “Maybe this is my chance, now.”

Lan’s face flushed slightly. “But I only know the male parts, Master.” He said. His eyes were wide and voice sweet and innocent. Shun almost believed him but he was sure that he had personally taught Lan both parts of that one too. He opened his mouth to protest and glanced at Lan again before closing it. Then with a wink, Shun began singing the first verse - the female role - in a terrible high falsetto.

Lan’s mouth quivered and he managed to hold a straight face for three lines before he leaned forward and burst into laughter. “I don’t remember it quite like that. Master.” The hated title seemed to only be tacked on as an afterthought. Shun returned the laughter.

“Do you still need to call me that when we are clearly alone together and there is absolutely no one but the bamboo and the birds to overhear?”

Shun regretted his words instantly. All the pleasure was instantly wiped off Lan’s face. Lan’s back in the saddle became rod straight. “I need to remember my place, Master,” he said.

“Right.” If he ordered Lan to stopping addressing him with that hateful title, would Lan obey? “Look, forget that I mentioned it, then,” he said softly. Lan nodded and looked away. Shun sighed and swallowed down a growl, raking a hand through his hair. He had to be content to ride in silence again.

They didn’t make it to Changsuo by nightfall. Instead, they found another, slightly larger, clearing with a stream running through it to break for the night. Lan tethered the horses next to the stream and brushed them down. Shun had left to go in search of kindling. Lan’s back and bottom ached and complained with smallest strain of movement and Lan was grateful for the time he was left alone. How embarrassing that his riding skills had fallen to such a low level after being off a horse for only four years. His fingers massaged a sore muscle and he winced. It was, of course, still better that being forced to run. For all his words earlier, he doubted that he would have survived the day.

Lan frowned as his fingers found Shun’s tent. He unbound it from the back of the saddle and spread it out over the grass, brows furrowing as he met unfamiliar knots and lacing. How does this all work? When he had travelled in a group before, the trips were well planned with villages and towns within easy riding distance of each other. When he rode alone it was a matter of urgency and he had ridden through the night and the day with little care for sleep. The few times he had to sleep in a tent, there were servants who managed this kind of work. It was something that shouldn’t have been foreign but Lan could not get a sense of what went where.

“Need help with that?”

Lan looked up. Shun was setting down an arm full of kindling and dried out old bamboo. He was glad that the darkness of twilight hid his blush. “I...it’s just that I’ve never done this before, Master.”

Shun chuckled and, in a moment, he was by Lan’s side. “Well, of course you haven’t,” He said. “When does a palace official of high rank need to even leave the capital?”

Lan bit down on his tongue before he was tempted to correct Shun. Shun had gone to where their tack lay and came back with a set of tent hooks and posts. “This is a pretty simple affair - just a single sheet designed to give a little bit of protection over the elements and not much more,” He explained. “But even so, you still need this for structure.”

Of course it did. Lan had not even thought about looking for the tent posts. How stupid of himself. He looked away. “Of course, Master.”

Once Lan’s hands had guided Shun’s slow, clumsy, ones as they attempted to put brush to paper to learn to write. Now, Shun’s hands guided his own and they were equally clumsy. Shun’s fingers managed to untangle knots in the lines at twice the speed of Lan’s. Lan’s hands, after years of training in sensual pleasures, had long since lost the callouses gained from martial arts and qin practice and were easily scratched. By the time they were finished, they were raw and throbbing and Lan tucked them in his sleeves so that Shun did not see. They were not difficult to hide in the darkness but once the fire was built and they settled around it to eat the provisions they had packed for dinner, Lan had to slip his hands out hands again.

Shun grabbed his wrist as soon as he saw. “What - how did this happen?”

Lan snatched his hands back and buried them in his sleeves, turning away. “It is nothing, Master.” A few, simple, scratches on a slave’s hands did not deserve this sort of fuss. In time, the skin would heal and perhaps his hands would be become hard and calloused again.

Shun frowned. “Are you going to be able to ride like that tomorrow?”

Lan slowly curled and uncurled his fingers. There was a little bit of sting in the movements but nothing worse than what he had borne previously. “I will be fine, Master.”

Shun made a grumbling sound and stood. When he came back, it was with a small pot of bitter smelling salve. “Spread out your fingers.”

Shun was making a big fuss of nothing, but it was clearly an order and Lan reluctantly held out his hands. In the firelight they did look bad - rubbed red and raw with dried blood caking one scratch. Shun made an irritated noise in the back of his throat and then finger by finger began to rub in the salve he had brought back. The touch was gentle. A flutter started at the pit of Lan’s stomach. He wanted to pull away but Shun had his hand firmly in his grasp. Finally, the ministrations were finished and Lan had his hands back to himself as he resumed eating the evening meal. Shun set the pot of salve down next to him. “Keep it with you,” He said firmly.

The fluttering sensation returned for a brief moment. Lan nodded and tucked the pot within a pocket of the jacket of his robe. “Thank you,” He said finally. Then, the the slow roll of anxiety clawed up within him when he remembered he had forgotten the proper address a slave had for his owner. Lan closed his eyes and let out a slow breath. “Master.” He stared miserably at his hands. Shun had asked him whether it was possible for Lan to stop calling him that earlier. It was still strange that Shun seemed to hate the title just as much as Lan. More than anything, Lan wanted to stop using the title. In the capital, Lan wasn’t sure if he should. Now, he wasn’t sure if he could.

When Lan moved to roll out the bedrolls he realised that Shun’s servants had made another omission. There was only one bedroll. The grass on the ground was already wet with the evening dew and, underneath it, the ground was stony and cold. He bit his lip and glanced at Shun

“It’s alright,” Shun looked at the bedroll and shrugged. “We should take turns keeping watch, anyway. It wouldn’t do for us to wake and find that all our belongings had been stolen while we slept, right?” Lan was handed a coarse woollen blanket. He opened his mouth to offer the first watch but Shun beat him to it. “Let me take the first turn. I’m not feeling that sleepy, anyway.”

Lan’s bottom ached and his passage felt like it was on fire. His trousers pooled around his ankles that were fixed wide apart, keeping his legs spread. Thick, bitter globs of sem*n coated his mouth and his throat. He gasped behind the blindfold, head turning one way and then another. Were there any more?

“So pathetic,” Lan would have gritted or bared his teeth but his jaw ached from being forced open for so long. Had the Grand Duke been watching the whole time? “It is a pity, Lan, to do these depravities to you. If you would just submit, I would be happy to find you a warm bed. You’ll even be f*cked by noble co*cks rather than the riff-raff here.”

Lan found some moisture in his mouth to spit. Fingers curled in his matted hair and jerked his head up. He couldn’t help the whimper that escaped his throat.

“So stubborn,” Cool fingers stroked his cheek and then sharp nails scraped against the soft skin of his neck. “So stupid and stubborn. But it is alright, little Orchid. I’m sure you’ll submit eventually.”

Fingers pushed at his passage and Lan shook his head. No, no, he could not handle any more. He screamed as they thrust into him again.

Lan sat bolt upright and gasped. His hair and back were soaked with sweat. Shun’s hands were on his shoulders.

“You had a nightmare,” Shun’s voice was in his ear and Lan shuddered, nodding. His hands scrabbled for the other’s, found it, and pulled Shun’s arm tight against himself. Lan listened to the pant of his own breath in the night air. His arse still throbbed but it was from the ride the day before, not from rape. They were no longer in the capital. He was with Shun. He was safe.

A soft hand stroked through his hair. Strands of it had come out of his braid as he slept and they now hung, framing his cheeks. Lan closed his eyes and allowed himself to lean into the comforting touch. “Thank you, Master.” Thank you Shun. A few moments more to compose himself and Lan opened his eyes again. The sky was not as dark as when he closed them and he could no longer see the moon through the bamboo leaves. He frowned as he turned to to Shun.

“What time is it, Master?” Was it his turn Surely, Lan had overslept. This was not half the night - it was near early morning.

Shun just shrugged and looked away. It was difficult to read his expression from his profile in the dim light. “It is fine. You were sleeping peacefully until just now.”

Lan’s frown deepened and he pulled himself out of the other’s embrace. It was closer to morning. Shun had always been an idiot. How were they going to to ride tomorrow if the man fell asleep in his saddle?

“It’s my turn now, Master,” he said, shaking off the blankets. “I can’t sleep now, anyway, and don’t we have a long ride tomorrow?”

Shun hesitated and, in the darkness, Lan wished that he could just pull Shun’s arm and drag him onto the bedroll as he once would have done. Then, Shun gave a single nod. “Thank you, Lan. Can you wake me when it is dawn?”

Lan nodded in return. He waited until Shun’s breathing evened out before he went to stoke the remaining embers in their fire. The night was cold and he shivered slightly, drawing his outer jacket more tightly around himself. He stared into the embers and tried to ignore the need to wash his hands and mouth again and again.

The second day of their journey was far easier. Sleeping out in the open meant that they rode into Changsuo in time for breakfast. The villages and towns were closer together and they were able to stop often for directions and food. By early afternoon the green of bamboo gave way to the the reds and yellows of Autumnal trees, signalling that their journey was near over. Shun stopped their horses just outside the road before it turned toward the descent into Yangnan.

“Come, I want to show you something” he said.

There was a hidden path from the clearing where they tied their horses and only a short walk to the cliff top. As they cleared the last of the trees and stepped out onto the rock of the cliff top, Shun heard Lan suck in a breath next to him. Underneath them was Yangnan valley. The neatly stitched square fields were bathed in harvest gold, outlined by the deep reds and oranges of maple trees. An emerald green river cut through the landscape and the reflection of the fields and trees on the water made it look as if it was on fire. In the distance towered deep blue mountains that were already covered by a scattering of snow, their peaks hidden by clouds.

“Far away on the cold mountain, a stone path slants upwards,

In the white clouds is a village, where people have their homes.

I stop the carriage, loving the maple wood in the evening,

The frosted leaves are redder than the second month's flowers.”

The slow, melodic words of the poem startled Shun and he turned to Lan. He had always been far more clever at these sorts of things than him. Lan was trained in all seven talents of a scholar-gentleman: poetry, painting, calligraphy, chess, music, scholarship and swordsmanship.

“That is beautiful. Is it one of yours?”

Snorted laughter was his answer. “No - Master. It was by Du Mu - one of the famous poets of the Shi dynasty.” Lan turned to face Shun. “I thought I had read him to you - before. You know my own poems are rubbish.” Lan’s voiced faded into a barely audible whisper as he turned back to the view. “It was da ge - my oldest brother who was the poet in my family.”

They were standing shoulder to shoulder over the valley. The sun was just beginning to dip, adding to the golden glow. Shun found himself pulling an arm around Lan’s shoulders. Lan sighed softly and leaned in. The weight of his head was heavy on Shun’s shoulder. Shun glanced down. Just a few breaths separated their faces. All he needed to do was to lean down and he could capture Lan’s lips in a kiss…

Shun tore his gaze away. He knew better than to try foolish things. A familiar ache stabbed in his chest. He pulled back his arms and stepped away from Lan. “The sun is setting - we should try to to get in before nightfall.” Lan nodded, dipping his head as they both turned to retrieve their horses.

Chapter 7

Chapter Text

The Yangnan villagers lined the streets as soon as Shun and Lan entered through the simple mud and wood town walls. Lan stared, wide eyed at the crowds. There must have been a watch posted - there was no other way the villagers would have known of them coming. It was a cool, late, Autumn afternoon in the small farming village and yet every household must have emptied their doors to fill the streets as they rode past.

“General Wei!”

“Welcome back, General!”

“The people’s hero!”

“All hail the great General!”

Shun and Lan rode through the cheering streets. A young boy ran up to Shun, a bunch of late season chrysanthemums in hand. Shun dipped his head and accepted the flowers. The child’s eyes widened before a grin broke on his face and he turned and ran back to his mother, beaming. Lan couldn’t help but hide a smile at the exchange against the neck of his mule. There were some things about Shun, it seemed that would never change.

Even the local magistrate had come out to greet the great General. He was a stout man of middle age and the fur cloak he had wrapped around himself to buffer the late autumn chill made his body look even more round, and his head very small. A light sheen of oil coated his forehead. He looked exactly like the fat quail embroidered on his mandarin square. He walked up to Shun, hands outstretched.

“Oh, the people of Yangnan are blessed indeed! Are you home for the winter, General?”

Shun stopped and slid off his horse, prompting Lan to also dismount. He had to stamp down a swell of irritation when Shun bowed low to the magistrate, even as Lan quickly moved to follow suit. An esteemed lion bowing down to a fat quail? The idea was preposterous. A quail-bearing local magistrate was on the bottom rung of the Scholar-Official hierarchy. Shun’s two feathered lion put him at the very top of the military ladder. The Magistrate should have been on his knees, paying homage to Shun.

“Your words are very kind Magistrate Li. I am home for winter - ” A general cheer broke out in the crowd. “You are always so gracious and welcoming. I hope you will dine with my family, sometime?”

Lan bit down on the side of his cheek. Gracious and welcoming? It should have been this quail-magistrate inviting Shun for dinner, not the other way around. Shun owed this little fat bird nothing. Shun may have been newly returned from the battlefield but how could he not understand how the hierarchies worked? It was one thing to be polite to those who ranked below you but showing such little understanding of the expectations of hierarchy spoke of nothing but weakness.

The magistrate’s eyes glittered with pleasure. “It is a great honor to be in your company, General.” Of course it was an honour. He doubted anyone else even half of Shun’s rank would have given this man the time of day.

The Wei household was set on higher ground, up a path that lead out past the other gates of the village. The ride up to it was short, but steep, commanding a view over the nearby farmland and fields. It was not uncommon for higher ranked officials and military officers to be given a gift of tenanted land as part of their estate. Did this too belong to Shun? Lan frowned at Shun’s back. Perhaps it was a question to be asked later.

The first living creature to greet Lan and Shun when they arrived at the gates was not human but a thin, black, tomcat who walked up to the two men with a low pitched meow -- and then proceeded to wind himself around Shun’s legs, purring loudly. Lan stared. Shun had once rescued a little black kitten from drowning. He had personally nursed the creature back to strength. The cat the kitten became had been feral: hissing, scratching and biting at anyone who came near except for Shun, toward whom he behaved like a perfect pet. If Yao had not been such a good mouser, Lan knew very well that their family cook would have insisted that the creature leave the premises.

That had been a long time ago. If Yao was still alive, the damn cat must have been at least fifteen years old. This could not possibly be. Cautiously, Lan reached out a hand to pet the top of the cat’s head - and jerked back when it hissed and swiped at him.

Shun chuckled. “You remember Yao, Lan? He doesn’t tend to like strangers and he hasn’t seen you for a long time. ” He reached down and picked up the demonic creature who proceed to snuggle into Shun’s embrace and bonked his head against Shun’s chin. Shun gave him an affectionate scratch behind the ears and the purring increased in volume.

“Wei Shun! You come back late after the Mid-Autumn Festival has long passed and the first thing you greet is that damned cat?”

Shun bent down, placing the cat gently on the ground before standing. “Mother, it is go to see you too after so many seasons.”

Yuzheng was a slim, petite woman, the top of her head only coming up to her son’s shoulder. There were now perhaps a few more tendrils of silver in the black hair that was pulled neatly into a bun and a scattering of lines around her eyes and mouth. Otherwise, she looked barely changed from when Lan saw her last - more than ten years ago. She walked up to Shun and enveloped him in an embrace.

“You are fortunate. I am a long suffering, but forgiving, mother,” Yuzheng patted Shun’s cheek before leaning up to peck it with an affectionate kiss. “It is good to see you again, too. Although, one day the things you do will turn my hair stark white!” She smiled at him and then glanced up, over Shun’s shoulder. Her eyes widened. She pushed away from her son and ran towards Lan, arms outstretched.

“Si shao-ye - fourth young master - is it really you?”

Lan had sunk to his knees. He could see a pair of finely embroidered slippers approach him and then a pair of small hands grasped his elbows, lifting him to his feet. Humiliation flooded through him. His new position was polar opposite to the previous title Lady Yuzheng addressed him by.

Yuzheng didn’t seem to notice. “Oh Lan, it is you. I - we thought your whole family dead.” Warm arms encircled Lan and he felt a wetness touch his cheek.

Lan bowed his head. “Lady,” he said. He fixed his eyes firmly on the ground, hands fisted. It was better this part was done quickly. He could feel Shun’s eyes looking at him. “My family is dead, and I am not anyone’s shao-ye anymore. I am simply your son’s slave.”

There was a moment of silence. Gentle fingers touched his cheek, tilting his face upwards. Yuzheng’s eyes glimmered. Were those tears? Lan forced his eyes down again and heard a long sigh. Hands that had been holding Lan let go and Yuzheng whirled around to face her son.

”Wei Shun - you really are a terrible son. The fourth young master is alive after all this time and you did not even think to tell me? Where have you been hiding him all this time? And look at him - he looks so tired and thin! How have you been taking care of him?”

Shun had opened his mouth to speak but Yuzheng just held up a finger, silencing him as she spun back around to face Lan. Lan was pulled into another hug. His own arms trailed awkwardly at his sides. Was he supposed to return the embrace?

“Cheng Lan.” Yuzheng’s voice was soft as she tilted his face up again.“There is no need to call me lady or kneel before me. Welcome to our household. I am glad that you have found your way here, eventually.” Her hands slipped into his and squeezed. “May your honorable father and brothers sleep well.” He was held there for a moment longer before soft lips brushed his cheek and Yuzheng stepped back. She rubbed at her eyes. "You must be exhausted from your trip, especially if my son forced you to ride at his breakneck pace.” Another glare was directed at Shun. “Why don’t the two of you wash away the dirt of your travels and join me for dinner? Then you can retire early. I will have a room prepared or you, Lan.”

Dinner, as it turned out, was a table spread full of Lan’s favourite dishes. He gaped at them and looked around for the nine other guests that would surely need to be in attendance to finish all the food. It was probably, probably, meant to be in honour of Shun’s victorious return from the battlefields. However, there were dishes on the table that would contradict that. Bitter gourd stir fried with wood ear fungus, a plate of century eggs, the black “whites” glistening in the candlelight, and there was no mistaking the smell that came from the pile of deep fried tofu on the table either. Some of the dishes - the duck and red cooked pork belly Lan knew Shun enjoyed; but Shun’s favourite dish - sticky pork spare ribs in sweet and sour sauce - was noticeably absent.

“What are you boys gawking for, sit down.” Yuzheng was already at the table waving at them. The table had been set for three. Shun moved to sit down and Lan started to kneel beside his master.

“Oh no you don’t.” Yuzheng’s hand caught Lan’s elbow. Her hands were small but they were still strong in their grip. “I am not having a guest sit on the floor like a dog.”

“But - I - ” Lan looked to Shun who just shrugged and looked away. His gaze turned helplessly to Yuzheng. “I am not a guest, lady.”

Finely arched eyebrows shot up. “You will dishonour me by sitting on the floor, Cheng Lan. Then I will lose my appetite and not be able to eat any of this - and the food will go to waste - all because you are sitting on the floor.”

Lan swallowed down his protest. He slid down into the chair and hid a wince a little as his bottom hit the hardwood. He took in a deep breath and let it out again. It was just Yuzheng and Shun. They were far away from the capital. Nothing was going to happen.

Yuzheng’s chopsticks popped a choice piece of meat, and a sliver of century egg, into his bowl. “Go on - eat. Clearly, Shun hasn’t been taking care of you at all.” She poked at his arm. “There’s not a bit of fat on you anymore.” She shook her head, “I knew my son was an irresponsible lout.”

“Th-thank you lady.”

Slim fingers curled around Lan’s wrist. “Don’t call me lady. When you call me that, I feel so old - like a grandmother. I remember you used to call me ah-yi when you were little. I want to be reminded of those days. I would feel a much younger woman if you were to call me that again.”

Lan glanced up at her but Yuzheng’s face was sincere, not mocking. A sudden lump formed in the back of his throat. “Y-yes, ah-yi.” The last words ended in a choke. Lan’s chest ached. For a moment he felt like he could not breathe.

Yuzheng patted Lan’s hand and flashed him a small smile. “Thank you, Lan.”

A half choking gurgle very suspicious for suppressed laughter came from Shun’s part of the table. Yuzheng turned to Shun and put a serving of bitter gourd into her son’s bowl. Shun pulled a face. Yuzheng glared. “It is not polite to laugh with your mouth full or pull faces at your food, Wei Shun.” She cast her eyes heavenward. “Oh Spirits, give me patience with my son.I know I tried my best when I raised you. It is a pity that Lan’s influence didn’t help you with your manners.” Lan’s hand was patted again. “Now, eat your vegetables - it is of a cooling element and good for you after all that heat of the battlefield.”

The tightness in Lan’s chest vanished. He wiped the last of the moisture from his eye and hid a smile behind a sleeve. Shun wasted no time glaring at Lan and then grunted - as if someone had kicked him under the table.

“Make sure that Shun treats you properly,” Yuzheng said. “If he mistreats you in any way, just come and tell me and I will personally make sure he’s taken care of.” She glared at Shun again.

Lan didn’t hide his smile this time. He took a bite of the food. The rice was fragrant, the bit of pork melted into savory goodness on his tongue and the crisp crunch of the bitter gourd cut through everything in a way that was palate cleansing and refreshing. A tension that he hadn’t even been aware of across his shoulders melted away. A bowl of rice wine was thrust into his hand and he found himself raising it to to Yuzheng’s and Shun’s in a toast. “To victory, health and fortune!”

Eyes heavy with alcohol and stuffed to the throat with food, Lan swayed a little as he followed one of the house servants to his allocated room. When he reached the threshold, he stopped.This was the second time that night that Lan was all agape. This was surely the biggest and finest of the guest rooms that the house had. It had broad double doors that opened to a front courtyard and a small landscaped stone and water style garden. Two carved ebony reading chairs were placed against one wall and a matching round dining table and chairs were in the center. The bed at the side was the same size as Shun’s back in the capital, hung with bright blue silk drapes embroidered with gold thread. A painted silk panel depicting flying cranes over clouds separated what must have been the bedroom part of the room from the entertainment area.

“She wasn’t joking when she said I was a guest…”

“I think that you were her favourite child, Lan.” Lan spun around to find Shun, a teasing grin plastered on his face, as he walked past the open courtyard to join him in the entrance of the room. “This room looks nicer than mine. You definitely are her favourite.”

Lan shook his head and took a step back. “I - I cannot stay here tonight.” They were two days ride from the capital. Small things may be unlikely to travel back to the ears of the royal court, but to house a slave convicted of treason in your finest guest bedroom was not a small thing.

Shun’s hand caught his elbow. “Lan - I was only teasing. My mother runs this household and she wants you to stay here. She wants you to be comfortable and I have no objection. You should enjoy it.”

“No - Shun.” Lan shook his elbow free and took another step back. Shun never understood these things. It must have been the alcohol in his system because Lan would never have spoken to a free man and his owner in the tone that he did then. “You cannot house someone in my position here. Do you want reports to be carried to the king and the royal court that somehow I have embroiled you in my family’s treason? You know what they did to my family. This might put your neck, and your mother’s, at risk.” Blood pounded in Lan’s ears. His body was shaking., “Shun - Master - you cannot be seen as treating me as more than what I am - your slave - you have already been too lenient with me.” Shun needed to understand.

Shun was silent for a moment, arms crossed. His met Lan’s eyes and held his gaze until Lan looked away. For a moment, Lan thought he was going to be ordered to spend the night in the lavish bedroom. When Shun finally spoke, his words were slow and soft. “You know, if you sleep in my room, my mother will think that we have rekindled our relationship.”

Lan felt his face burn. Well, of course Shun would not want anything like that. Even if Lan had not insulted him all those years ago, he would not want what Lan was now - a filthy and degraded slave. He looked down at his feet. “House me with the servants then, I’ll even sleep outside your door,” he whispered. His hands fisted in his sleeves. “I just - I cannot endanger your family.” Not like the way that he had his own.

Shun rubbed a hand across his forehead. “You are not sleeping with my servants,” He said. Lan flinched at the irritation in Shun’s voice. “And even if I could allow myself to even think of you turning into an icicle at my bedroom door, my mother will flay me alive if she found out.” He held out a hand to Lan with a long sigh. “Come, let’s go to my room. My mother can think whatever she wants of us.”

Lan almost didn’t reach for it. Was he forcing Shun into doing something he did not want? He looked up hesitantly to meet Shun’s eyes but the anger that he had heard in the man’s voice was not there. Slowly, his fingers curled around Shun’s own warm ones and he nodded. His fingers were rewarded with a soft squeeze in return.

Shun’s room was simple, and in a similar layout to his home in the capital. Against one wall there was a large bed. There was a simple table in the center and a reading couch. An assortment of weaponry lined one wall: a sword, a spear and a shield. A painting on a large scroll hung on the third wall, facing the bed. As soon as Lan saw it he stopped, eyes wide and breath still. The picture depicted a crane flying just above a seated lion. It was painted in black and white, the brush strokes were slightly crude and the lion was perhaps just a little lopsided. The artist had only been sixteen, after all, when it had been created; and he had not possessed the kind of talent to create true perfection.

“You - you still have this?” If he were Shun, that picture would have been destroyed long ago. Lan walked toward it. He remembered the stolen evenings he had spent in his father’s study, practicing sketches, perfecting this work. Shun had been utterly confused when Lan had presented it to him on his eighteenth birthday.

“But why would the crane fly so close to the lion? Won’t the lion eat it?”

Lan had scowled. As always, Shun missed the point. “No dummy! It’s not literal. Look, you are the lion - the highest rank in the military - and I am the crane - the highest rank for scholar-official. We will both sit in court together one day. This is a promise and a wish of good luck when you ride to the capital. Not that you need it, you’re already a thick-headed bear and you’re probably better than any of your rivals at the Military Exams.”

“I wanted to burn it when we parted,” Shun admitted behind him. “In fact, I promised myself I would bring it to the capital next time I was there and burn it in front of your face." He paused. "Then I was sent to the Ganbei Deserts - and then I was told that you were dead.”

Lan tried not to jerk at Shun’s words. The anger he understood. Of course Shun was angry at his rejection. It was the mournful tone in the last sentence that he did not understand. Shun should hate him. Lan’s fingers brushed against the long dried ink, tracing the image of the flying crane. He smiled bitterly. “At least one of us achieved its promise, master,” he said.

Shun crossed the floor and his hands closed over Lan’s shoulders. “I would not discount such things yet. I think you were born to be a crane since you toddled to your first lesson. All of this - it has certainly maimed your wins, but you may still fly one day.”

Sudden tears pricked at Lan’s eyes and he shook his head with a laugh. “Thank you, master,” he said. How would a convict slave ever become a crane again? Belonging to someone kind, like Shun, was the best that Lan could hope for now. He wiped his eyes with his sleeve and then forced a yawn to hide the movement. “I may have had a little too much to drink,” He said, and yawned again. “Shall we sleep, master?”

To his relief, Shun nodded and the candles are snuffed out. They laid down as they have done, back to back and in time Shun’s breathing slowed and eventually evened out. For a long time after that Lan lay awake, eyes opened, staring at his own painting in the darkness.

Chapter 8

Chapter Text

The first year he had come to Yangnan, Shun had set up a game of weiqi chess in his study. The game itself had fairly simple rules. It was played on a board of nineteen horizontal and nineteen vertical intersecting lines with polished black stones. The only object was to surround the opponent and take their territory. The player with the largest area of territory when there were no more moves to play was victorious. When Lan first introduced the game to Shun, he had scoffed. It was far removed from the xiangqi chess Shun knew well with its cast of foot soldiers, cannons, chariots and elephants played out on well drawn battle lines. That was a game that far better represented the battlefields of generals. Weiqi was too simple. Even todder children could play with black and white rocks.

Lan had stood his ground on the matter. It is the game of generals he had said, then added with a sneer: xiangqi is the game for commoners. Shun had snorted and challenged the younger boy to game. Lan had won the first game, then the second, then the third. By the tenth game Shun was convinced that Lan had simply bewitched the board so that the play would turn on Shun suddenly mid game. Lan had just laughed at him and passed him a book of strategy. Shun had listened to his mother’s sleeping breath as he read the book by candlelight, until his fingers smudged the words right off the page.

Lan had, of course, been right. In snatches of calm, weiqi had been a much simpler game to play amongst the officers on the battlefields. A piece or two missing would not ruin the whole game. It was a quieter, more thoughtful game, with infinite moves. It had schooled Shun about deception, flexibility, patience and the art of surprise. More than the drama of xiangqi, it was the battlefield on a board.

The game in his study had been in session for years. He had intended it as a lesson about strategy and self reflection: a game against himself. Despite his best intentions, it had never been played to completion. Shun couldn’t count on his hands the times when he had been called away to service in the midst of the game. By the time he arrived back home he would have forgotten the last move he had made and needed to reanalyse the board afresh before the game could be continued.

On the third day after their arrival in Yangnan, Shun remembered his game. It was late afternoon and the sun was starting to dip in the horizon, beams of light pierced through his study windows when Shun spotted Lan’s figure crouched over his board in the study. The sun seemed to cast a golden halo around the man’s navy blue coat. He felt a smile tug at his lips.

Lan’s eyes were so intently focused on the board that he did not hear Shun enter. Shun coughed lightly and the smaller man jumped, spinning around, head bowed. Shun was pleased to note that Lan did not attempt to drop to his knees.

“What do you think of the game?” Shun asked as he walked around to the other side of the board, peering down at it. The last move he had made was as white. The two sides still appeared to be quite evenly matched. It was an irony that playing against oneself, the victorious side could still not be predicted.

Lan’s eyes slid over the board again. The pursed lips and the frown that marred Lan’s brow made Shun swallow a laugh. Ten years, and some expressions never changed.

“I think that black has made three fatal mistakes,.” Lan’s finger touched a a black stone on the board. “It is inevitable that white will win now, although I think it will still take several moves to do so.”

That answer made Shun scoff. Lan was always good at bluffing and those words may have been enough for a gullible child but weiqi was a game of infinite possibilities. “There are still plenty of spaces left on the board. I don’t think you can see a clear winner so early.”

Lan’s only response was a quirked eyebrow.

Shun snorted. “If you are so confident,” He said, “Then play a game with me. Be warned though - if you lose, I’m going to ask you a prize from you”

Lan looked as if he was going to refuse. Shun pushed the basket of white stones toward him. Lan glanced at it. The polished stones glistened in the afternoon light. One of Lan’s hands hovered above the basket for a moment before he sat down on a stool with a slight huff. Shun smirked when he saw that Lan was already rolling one of the white stones between two fingers. “Do I get a prize from you, Master, if I win?”

“Of course,” Shun smirked, ‘Though, that depends on if you win.” He picked up his own stone and placed it down. “Black goes first and always has a distinct advantage.”

“Black has more than forfeited their advantage.” Was it Shun’s imagination or had Lan just rolled his eyes? He tapped the white stone three times against the table, lip quirked before placing it down on a empty corner of the board. There was definitely a smirk on Lan’s lips when he met Shun’s eyes again. “I wonder what prize you will have to give me, Master.”

Shun snorted at that and placed down his stone. “Oh, I would prepare for the prize you would have to pay me, Lan.”

The sun went down, servants came and went. The board changed from a wash of white to a wash of black and then back to white. Candles had been long lit in the study before Lan put down his last piece. The smirk was back on Lan’s lips even before the score had finished being counted. Shun let out a long sigh and leaned back on his stool, linking fingers behind his head.

“I concede. It seemed that white did have a distinct advantage in that game.”

Lan shrugged, “I did say that black had a number of fatal mistakes already, Master,” he said and then raised an eyebrow. “Do I get your prize?”

Servants had left a plate of steamed bao and Shun’s elbow. They were still warm. He tossed one to Lan and laughed before biting into his own. “Should I be worried?”

Lan shrugged again. One by one, the white stones were returned to their basket. When Lan looked up to meet Shun’s gaze again, he looked hesitant - almost shy. “I want to ask you a question, Master.”

Shun leaned forward. “Well, it is your prize.”

Lan frowned. He sat back and licked his lips. He hesitated again for a brief moment. “Why...why is it that you show Magistrate Li such deference?”

Shun gaped for a moment. Of all the questions he thought Lan would ask him, that was one he had least expected. “Why should I not show Magistrate Li deference?” He said. “He is the local magistrate appointed by the royal court.”

“He is a quail and you are a two-feathered lion!”

Shun stared blankly at Lan. A quail was a common rank. Local magistrates wore mostly mandarin squares with quails on their formal robes. It was the very occasional magistrate who wore an oriole and, very rarely, a mandarin duck in the larger cities. They were all, however, scholars and magistrates and had well earned their place competing against the best scholars in the civil examinations in front of the royal court. Of course scholars outrank common soldiers. Shun had a nagging suspicion that it was Lan who had said that to him once. Scholars train their mind for years to understand the laws and principles of country where as any fool can pick up a weapon and fight.

“He has the honor of wearing the image of a bird and therefore is a noble scholar and I am a simple soldier. “ Shun said evenly.

Lan let out a long sigh. “I - yes,” he said and then looked down. “That is the Confucian principle, Master. In truth, however, the ranks of military and scholar-official are equivalent. The lion is the same rank as the crane and the quail the same as the military seahorse.”

Shun huffed. Of course the squares that the civil service wore made no sense. The military ranks were in order of animal strength from seahorse to lion. The official-scholars were ranked by birds of the field. “You may have been taught what each scholar-official’s mandarin squares mean but I remember, I also needed to run kitchen errands and scrub your chamber pots.”

Lan flinched as if he has been struck. His shoulders hunched. Shun regretted his choice of words immediately. The reminder of who they were, and who they are now hung between them, before Lan lowered his eyes.

“I could show you now, Master?”

Shun shrugged and motioned to his study desk. He rolled out a fresh piece of paper. Lan splashed a little water onto Shun’s inkstone before he ground down the ink stick in circular motions. Lan frowned a little over Shun’s selection of brushes before he picked a thin, fine one.

Shun had always been fascinated by the way Lan worked with a brush, whether it be simple writing, calligraphy, or painting. Shun’s own words looked like blotchy fat little pigs whereas Lan’s characters had always been constructed with thin and graceful strokes like the crane that represented the highest of the scholar-official ranks. Shun was always amazed by how with a few flicks of the wrist, Lan was able to turn a handful of brushstrokes into a well crafted image.

The first thing Lan drew was a dragon. Long and thin, he patiently added five claws before turning to Shun. The question did not need to be spoken. “The royal family,” Shun said easily.

“No - five claws is the king, only, Master.” Lan corrected as the the character for king was written underneath the image. “The other members of the royal family wear dragons with four claws and only the royals are permitted to wear the dragon.” Another dragon was drawn, four claws at the ready.

Lan’s next image was a lion, rearing up for attack on its hind legs. Shun smirked and remembered the scroll on his bedroom wall. “The lion is first tier general. The crane is the corresponding rank for Scholar.”

Lan’s response was a nod. “You have two feathers. Each feather represents the king’s favour. Therefore a feathered lion or crane outranks one without.”

One by one, each animal representing a different military rank was painted with their corresponding bird. The tiger - second tier general - and the golden pheasant. The bear - third tier general - and the peaco*ck. The colonel’s leopard was matched with a wild goose while the lieutenant colonel’s panther matched a silver pheasant. The image for commander and captain bore the same image: the white rhinoceros but was matched with the egret and mandarin duck respectively. Finally, the lieutenant’s seahorse was equivalent to a common field quail.

Shun could not help but chuckle when he realised that he had been bowing to a man that held the same rank as his lieutenants. His eyes passed over the highest ranking birds one more time and then he remembered a news post he had ridden past the year Lan competed in his examinations. All successful candidates and respective ranks were published every year for the people to see an honour.

“You were given the rank of a Golden Pheasant after your examinations! You must have done very well indeed.”

Lan stiffened next to him and, for a minute, Shun wondered if he had said something wrong. The man’s fingers brushed past his knuckles as they moved to point lower down the hierarchy. “I wasn’t a second rank official,” Lan said, “I wanted to work with my father and the only posting they had with him was a Silver Pheasant. Fifth tier - not second.”

Shun frowned. He was so sure that the characters for golden pheasant had been written next to Lan’s name. I wanted to work with my father. Had Lan chosen a demotion to do so? He shrugged the thought off and grinned. “It’s still an achievement all the same. I think Magistrate Li has been a quail from the first moment he passed his examinations.”

Shun was rewarded by a soft snort and a laugh. “I think I should always do better in the civil examinations compared with Magistrate Li.” There was an echo, there, of the arrogant sparkle of the Lan that Shun remembered.

Shun saw the exact moment when Lan realized what he had said. He paled instantly. Shun managed to loop an arm around Lan’s waist before he could kneel. “I mean - Master - I didn’t mean -”

“I’m sure if you both sat the examinations tomorrow you would do much better than him,” Shun said dryly. Lan was still as tense as the string of a drawn out bow. Without even thinking about what he was doing, Shun brushed his lips against Lan’s forehead and pressed a kiss there.

For one single moment, it was as if they were boys again, caught in each other’s embrace. Then, Lan gasped and Shun jerked away. That single movement knocked against the brush that was still held in Lan’s hands. Black ink splattered across the paper. Shun hissed in dismay. Lan stepped away and slowly placed the brush down on the corner of the ink stone. He bowed.

Shun touched the pictures and black ink stained his fingertips. He smiled ruefully at Lan. “Thank you. I’m sorry - I’m clumsy sometimes.” With a sigh he folded up the piece of paper and wiped his hands clean. “I promise - I won’t keep bowing to fat Magistrate Quail anymore.” He raised an eyebrow and Lan laughed. He definitely rolled his eyes this time.

They had barely finished breakfast on the second week of their arrival in Yangnan when Shun had stood abruptly and said “Lan - I want to show you something.”

It was early enough that most of the servants were not yet up and the hallways and courtyards were deserted. They were heading towards the back of the house where the traditional place for the ancestral shrine was located. Lan didn’t understand why they would head to such a place.

Shun and his mother had joined the Cheng household when Shun was four years of age. Lan could barely remember the event but Shun had told him later that his father had died in floodwaters when the river Song suddenly broke its banks in the fourth year of the reign of King Taizhong. All Shun had to remember his father growing up was a faded picture painted by his mother’s hand. It would make sense that the Lady Yuzheng would have asked for a proper ancestral shrine to be constructed here. Why Shun was showing Lan this, he did not know. Lan certainly had no connection with the Wei ancestors.

He crossed his arms over his chest as he waited outside the family shrine. It was a simple affair, stone tablets placed on a wooden pedestal. Lan was half expecting Shun to hand him a bunch of incense and ask him to bow down to the family elders. Shun was bent over the pedestal and he fiddled with something. There was a soft hiss as a drawer popped out and Lan watched as Shun reached inside to take out four crude wooden tablets and place them on the front of the pedestal.

“I’m afraid I did not know the names of the wives of your brothers - or the names of their children - but we can carve them into the wood now that you are here."

Lan frowned. What…? He stepped forward. The light of the sun caught the hard carved name on the center-most tablet. The world stopped. Ice cold shock washed over him. Blood rushed and pounded in his ears. Lan felt his mouth swing open, and could do little to stop it. The center most tablet held his father’s name.

“You - this - this cannot be possible. This is treason, Shun.” Lan didn’t realise his lips had moved and the words were so soft, even he could barely hear them. His eyes slid over the other tablets. He felt numb. The names of his eldest, second and third brothers flanked his father’s. Why here and why would Shun have these things? The initial numbness faded only to be replaced by an all too familiar ache that chilled his very core. Lan choked on the sudden lump that had risen in his throat.

“Lan.” Lan heard Shun’s voice but it sounded as if he was far away. Calloused fingers touched his hand, opened it, and placed four sticks of incense against his palm before they wrapped his fingers around them. “They are your family.”

Slowly, Lan took one step, then another, forward. It felt as if his limbs were suddenly filled with lead. When he reached the pedestal, he picked up the center-most tablet, and traced his fingers across the characters. Shun’s hand had always been lopsided but his father’s name was unmistakable. Lan choked back a sob and felt hot wetness roll down his cheeks. His fingers refused to let go of the tablet now that they had curled around it. How many times had he wanted to do his duty as a son and a brother? Lan’s chest felt tight - like an elephant and somehow sat upon it.He could hear his own breath hitching in the silence of the morning.

Lord Cheng had been executed on the fourth month of the 1st year of King Ming Wang’s reign - an example of the young king’s iron hand against all forms of treason. Lan had struggled against the guards that held him down - as if gaining a moment of freedom could save his father. His brothers, their wives and children, had been executed two days later. Lan had not thought that stocks could be made that would fit a five year old’s hand and neck. His nephew had been terrified and crying. He had cried out to uncle Lan for help and Lan could do nothing but watch as the blade swung down. Cut the tree down, tear out its roots and salt the earth.

A son’s duty was to serve his parents and a younger brother’s to serve his elders. Lan was powerless to do either. In the slave harems of the palace, he had managed to steal a stick of charcoal and tear a piece of cloth big enough that he could write down at least his father’s name and perform for him the rituals after death that was commanded of a son. They had found him with it before he could even begin. The cloth was burnt and the finger presses had left his fingers swollen and barely able to move for a fortnight. Do it again they promised him, and you will lose your hands. Lan had not tried again and those actions had proved that he was truly a terrible son.

“If anyone finds this here, Master - if word gets back to the capital - they will have enough to convict and behead you. A convicted traitor is not to be honoured, even in death.” When Lan finally managed to find his voice, the words came out as a harsh croak. His gut squeezed and twisted at the thought. Shun’s kindness was enough risk. Shun didn’t need this risk to also hang over his head.

There was a sharp tap as Lan finally managed to set the wooden tablet back on the pedestal. He pressed his fist against his mouth. He could not stop shaking. Shun’s hand was suddenly a heavy weight on his shoulder. Lan felt a shudder rack his body.

“Do you think your father was a traitor?”

A traitor? Land shook his head silently. It was impossible. A flare of anger rose in him before he quashed it. His father was the most loyal man Lan knew. He had worked his whole life for the kingdom and had spearheaded the efforts for the Jin-Xun alliance. In the year of his death, his father had spent countless sleepless nights preparing the final words of the treaty. Even if he had thought about threatening the grand duke or king, he would have had no time to prepare it. Lan could not understand how such accusations could take root.

Lam turned to face Shun, but another sob threatened to explode out of his throat and he found himself burying his face against Shun’s chest, arms wrapped tight around him.

Growing up, Shun had always been the more solid and larger than him. His smell - grass and sweat - enveloped Lan as he wept and sobbed into Shun’s clothing. Lan heard a soft sigh and his head was tucked under the man’s chin. He could feel a hand rub small circles in the small of his back. Lan shook. His breath hitched, shuddered, and stuttered. it felt as if a dam had broken inside of him and out rushed a torrent of pain. He had never been allowed to cry for his family before.

Shun held him until the worst of the shaking and sobbing was over. Finally, he pulled away, scrubbing at one hand with a sleeve. He felt, drained and numb and there was still a twinge if that ache of grief that would come whenever he thought about his family. The wet stains on Shun’s woolen over-jacket made Lan flush. He had forgotten that they were not simply friends anymore.

“Master - I - ”

Warm, calloused fingers reached forward. Lan felt a thumb brush across his cheek and wipe away the last trail of wetness there. Shun didn’t look angry. It must have been a trick of the light. The glisten in Shun’s eyes could not possibly be tears.

When Shun spoke his voice was rough. “Shall we?”

Lan nodded slowly and they turned back to the tablets. The incense was lit. The heavy scent of sandalwood and smoke filled the air. Lan closed his eyes as they bowed before the tablets. His eyes burned and tears threatened to spill again. For a moment, he thought he could almost see his father’s face there, above the tablets. He felt his cheeks redden and flush again with shame. Lan dropped down to his knees, face pressed to the ground, in a deep kowtow. The stones were ice against his forehead.

“I am sorry father and my brothers. I have failed in my duty to you.”

“Lan,” When he knelt up, Shun had his hand outstretched for him. Lan took it and Shun wrapped an arm around him as he was helped to his feet. Together, they placed the incense in a little pot that stood before the tablets. There was a moment of silence as they watched the smoke curl away from the sticks as they burned. Then, Shun stepped forward and collected the tablets.

“No one knows of the existence of these tablets,” Shun said, “Even my mother doesn’t know the secrets of this pedestal. I had it commissioned in a town three days ride at least from this village. The drawer is only opened if the right combination of latches are activated.” The tablets were placed back in the drawer and it slid shut with a soft click. Shun turned. He smiled sadly. “I know the risks of these tablets, Lan, but I thought it worthwhile to honor an honorable man.”

I know the risks of these tablets. Something fluttered in Lan’s chest. He looked at Shun with wonder. Lan reached out his hand again and slipped it into Shun’s. He pressed it with a slight squeeze. “Th- Thank you, Master. Thank you for this gift.” They words were poor and clumsy and did not come close to expressing the extent of his gratitude.

Shun smiled back at him but his eyes were still overly bright. He reached up a hand to scrub at them. “I owe your father a great debt, Lan,” Shun said simply, “These tablets are here, waiting for you, too, if you ever have the need.”

Chapter 9

Chapter Text

The leaves changed from red to gold to brown and then finally the trees were left bare altogether. Biting winds blew over the mountains from the north, bringing with them flurries of snowflakes and frost that coated every window with white dust. Lan had grown up in Qiumeng, nestled in the rice paddy valleys of the south just above the border between Jin and Rong. Winters had been mild. There, snowfall in the evenings and nights quickly turned into slush under the heat of the morning sun - if they occurred at all. His fellow scholar-candidates for the imperial civil examinations had laughed at him when he had buried himself in furs in the first year he experienced winter in the Capital. Lan didn't care that he had looked like an overstuffed rabbit. The need for warmth had been more important.

Lan had never imagined anything could be this cold. How did people live like this? On their second morning Shun had taken one look at the way he had balled up under the covers and laughed and found him a fur cloak. It was no wonder the northerners of Dali were rumoured to be angry and bitter. Anyone would be, if they had to live with this sort of cold for most of the year.

Yangnan was far away enough from the capital that his family’s alleged crimes and conviction had not reached the ears of any of the townsfolk. Indeed, Lan doubted if any of them knew who the Cheng family were. The blanket of anonymity was a comforting one. Shun was obviously well esteemed and well loved and anyone associated with him was instantly trusted. It was enough that Lan served and was well liked by the General. Shun’s servants here were friendly and were more than happy to laugh at Lan’s hate of the cold and invite him to share in the warmth of the kitchens. It was a good way to keep warm but also learn about Yangnan through the village gossip the servants passed along as they worked.

Lan wondered what Yuzheng or Shun would think if they knew where he now spent the majority of his day, but Yuzheng was caught in the midst of running the household and it seemed Shun could not escape duties to the country, and the townsfolk, even though he was at home. Magistrate Li had not waited a week before asking him to assist with judgements in the local courts.

It was after a week of being huddled by the kitchen stove that a bucket of taro each as big as Lan’s fists was suddenly dumped in front of him with a paring knife. Lan frowned at the root vegetables. Pao, Shun’s cook, was a short and stout middle-aged man who kept his silver threaded hair up high in a top knot. Even in the middle of winter he liked to have the sleeves of his yi shirt rolled up to his elbows. He raised an eyebrow at Lan’s blank look.

“If you are going to sit there all day, boy, you may as well pitch in some work for your Master like the rest of us.”

“Look at his pretty hands. They’re as fine as any lady’s. Pao - do you really think he’s peeled taro in his life before?” Meiyu laughed. She was the extra kitchen help today. Plump and fair, she lived with her brother in the village and came up three times a week to provide an extra hand. In his first day in the kitchens, Lan had been right about his guess that Shun had been given a generous parcel of land with his estate. Meiyu’s brother - Feng - was one of the tenant farmers, but his lot was small and her work gave the both of them a bit of extra coin.

“Little brother, do you want me to show you how it’s done?”

Pao snorted. “Even if his hands are like a girl’s, he’s no better than the rest of us.”

“Would the good general like his slave’s hands messed with?”

Lan felt the tips of his ears burn. Shun had been good on his promise that he would not touch Lan in any way that was not chaste. Even now, they still just slept back to back on the bed, no matter what everyone else thought. It is important to keep up the ruse, Lan reminded himself. If anything, it would not be an inconsistency when they were required to return to the palace.

The bucket of taro waited to be peeled. Lan picked up the paring knife and turned it around in his hands. “I can manage,” he said. “The g - my Master - won’t mind.” His fingers had always been pale and slender. Four years on his hands and knees, being the f*cktoy of the palace, had removed the hardwon callouses at the tips of his fingers from the qin’s strings and ones that striped his palm from the grip of a sword.

Lan remembered the first time he had entered his father’s kitchens. Lan had promised Shun some extra tutoring. Shun was meant to meet him at the tenth hour of the day for an extra writing lesson and he had been late. Lan had eventually found Shun in the kitchens, head bent over a bucket of taro. Lan had yelled at Shun for being late and Shun had pointed out that he could not leave the kitchens until his duties were done. Lan had snorted and plopped down on a stool next to him. How difficult could peeling taro be? If the stupid kitchen boy could do it, so could he. Lan nearly cut himself on the first go and Shun had sighed, exasperated, before taking the knife from him and showing him how to do it.

Slide the knife just under, Lan muttered to himself, then peel off the skin. The skin of the taro in his hands came off with ease.

Back then, Shun had laughed at Lan’s second attempt. It had been painfully slow. Lan had scowled back, tempted to pitch the taro at the kitchen boy’s head. By the time they had finished the pile, he had been nearly as fast as Shun.

Lan dropped the peeled root vegetable into an empty bowl before picking up the second. The buzz of the kitchen continued around him.

“I cannot believe that the capital is raising taxes again.” Meiyu said as she worked the dough for the evening’s mantou.

Lan’s ears pricked. Another tax increase? There had been rumours of such that even filtered into the slave harems but those sorts of news had been highly unreliable. He had not believed it. If that news was true it would be the third time taxes would have been raised in as many years. Surely the crown was not so foolish.

“A third of all our labours will be sent to the crown,” Meiyu paused in her kneading. “It’s the third time in three years! We pay the king, we pay our lord - we need to feed ourselves, too!”

“General Shun and Lady Yuzheng are kind Masters to serve. They have cut farm rents last year and will probably do so again this year.” The third member of Shun’s household staff in the kitchen that day was Peng. At sixteen, he was tall and lanky, at the awkward stage of growth between boy and adult. Lan had gathered that he was Pao’s apprentice. “They haven’t let your you or your brother starve yet.”

“The good general and lady need to eat too.” Meiyu grumbled and rubbed her forehead, leaving behind trail of white flour. “The capital says it is because war depletes royal coffers. Well, the war is over, the roads are in disrepair and many families are short a son!”

“Father says the new king is not like his father - or his uncle,” Peng piped up. “Father tells me that the royal court once did yearly inspections of the land. The new king likes his officials to do it for him - and send him reports.”

“No more royal inspections?” Three pairs of eyes turned toward him and Lan swallowed. He wished he had not opened his mouth. He licked his lips. How to explain that question. “I thought...I had heard that the Royal Inspections were traditional.” Most of his time in the civil service had seen Lan stationed outside Jin. However, in the years before the king’s coronation, it was well known that the Grand Duke Regent would, like his brother, take regular inspections of the different regions of Jin. Corruption and disquiet were festering diseases that needed to be nipped in the bud before they became apparent - and seeing it first hand was the best way to find them.

Meiyu snorted, “The king, our lord of a thousand years, in his infinite wisdom, decided that the inspections were no longer necessary and were a drain on royal time.”

Lan’s brow furrowed. On the year of his family’s arrest, he was sure that King Ming Wang had been planning his first Royal Inspection. The Victory from the Alliance would have boosted the people’s morale but not all were in favour of the three kingdom treaty. The crown’s income came equally from the land, the salt fields of the East and the tea trade in the South. Such a high tax on the people would guarantee disquiet. Had the crown’s coffers truly been so depleted to justify such a measure?

“There have been two earthquakes down in Shuijin this year and the Song river has flooded for the first time in five years!” Meiyu sniffed and continued. “The king himself - he has twenty concubines and eight daughters, and yet has been unable to produce one son who can survive beyond infancy. Surely, these are signs that the Heavens are uneasy with our king. Perhaps the Mantle of Heaven has been removed from -”

The sharp thump of an iron pot hitting a kitchen bench cut through all conversation. Pao growled. He glared, at every member of the room. “If you lot want to talk treason then you can go home and do it,” he snarled. “We are here to work.”

Lan stood silently and handed a bowl of freshly peeled taros to the cook. It was exchanged for a basket of peas for shelling and a silent nod of approval. Meiyu’s words churned in his stomach. This was unusually heavy conversation for a kitchen morning. The taxes in the midst of the war had been barely a tenth of harvest. = King Ming Wang may still be young and inexperienced, but Lan knew well that the Grand Duke still sat at his right side and was his chief advisor. It made no sense then, that policies had changed so much. If such talk was in the kitchens, it was likely to be elsewhere. How much more talk would happen in the peasant and merchant households away from the ears of the royal court?

Lan wondered if Shun would know more about these new taxes. Lan settled the basket on his knees and set down a new bowl at his feet. Shun had not minded him asking about the magistrate, perhaps he could ask about the taxes that night.

It was Shun who found him, in the end, in his study. Lan had been perusing the shelves in the afternoon as he waited for his Master to return home. The study was well equipped with a cast iron heater and therefore - warm. Shun seemed to own a double of the collection of books he had in the capital, with the curious addition of a series of texts on agricultural techniques and land irrigation methods. Like in the capital, most of the books seemed untouched.

“You know you’re free to take any of the books in my collection to read.”

Lan jumped at the sound of Shun's voice over his shoulder. “Master! I…” He glanced at the books again. “I think I have read most of the ones in your collection at least once.” His hand had been on the spine of one that was titled Types of ploughs and their purpose. “You have a large collection of - farming literature?”

Shun's laugh was warm and rich. “Well, I am supposedly meant to be the lord over all the tenant farmers in the village,” he said. “My father was a tenant farmer but knew very little of farming. I thought it might be useful to learn if there was anything I could do to improve the land in general - but I have had little time to read, as you can see.”

Lan couldn’t help a small smile. Shun’s dedication and his patience and diligence in planning and preparing these things came as little surprise to him. It was now was a perfect opportunity to ask about the other issue that was troubling the region’s tenant farmers.

“Is it true that the king has raised the land taxes again, Master?”

“Yes. Have the servants been talking about it?” A troubled look flickered across Shun's broad features. “It is the third time in three years. The income and funds I receive from the capital are generous enough that we can give our tenant farmers some concessions but it will become difficult for all of us if this trend continues.”

Lan shook his head. As far as he knew the royal coffers were not that much in need. He stopped himself before he opened his mouth again. Of course, what he knew was the situation four years ago. “How much did this war cost us, Master?”

The answer he got was an expression of confusion. “We lost men, horses and ships. It was long and protracted on both sides but I do not think it was as bad as it could have been.” Shun said, “However, the Scholar-Officials who manage the treasury have little to say to those of us in the military.”

That, of course, was true. The military and the scholar-gentry may officially hold equal footing in the royal court but there was little love lost between the two factions. Lan thought back to the men who held treasury postings four or five years ago. None of them would have spoken two words to anyone from the military, if not officially required.

Lan frowned and his mouth twisted. How to ask the next question without implicating Shun's staff? “There have been two earthquakes this year. If the people are unhappy with the burden of the taxes, it would be easy to misinterpret such happenings as...disfavour from the Heavens.”

“It has already been misinterpreted as such.” Shun shook his head, “I have heard some even dare to say that it had been a poor decision to pass over the Grand Duke in favour of his younger brother, King Taizong, for the succession.”

Lan sucked in a breath. “That is the sort of talk that stirs rebellion.”

Of course, everyone knew the controversy of the current king’s father’s succession. With large harems of concubines and often more than a dozen sons, the heir to the throne was not always the firstborn son but who the king elected. Even so, it was still customary to favour the elder sons above the younger ones. It had shocked all of Jin when the then king had passed over the Third Prince, who was far more favoured amongst the court advisors, for his younger brother, the Seventh Prince. It had been even more surprising when King Taizhong had appointed this older brother his senior advisor and named him Regent if anything ill were to befall him - which, the Grand Duke became to the eight year old Ming Wang, when King Taizhong and his Queen were killed suddenly in a carriage accident.

Shun's nodded sharply. “There has been one peasant uprising already. It was what delayed me in returning here.” He ran a hand over his face, expression pained. “It was just a small village near Qincheng. I imagine they might have been desperate. The revolt killed their local magistrate and but his family managed to reach the capital in search of refuge. The king -” Shun stopped and let out a long breath. “The king ordered every member of the village - man, woman and child, to be rounded up and killed and the village to be burned to the ground.”

Lan gasped. The shock of Shun’s words made him totally forget himself. “That cannot possibly be true. The king ordered this?” He pushed himself away from the bookshelves to pace across the floor of the study. Lan remembered King Ming Wang at his official coronation: small, pale and nervous. It was the Grand Duke who had presided over his family’s trial, despite having stepped down as Regent. Could the young king have thought of such a thing himself?

“The words came out of the king’s mouth.” Shun hesitated and then said, more slowly, “The Grand Duke stood beside him and the king looked to the Grand Duke more than once. Of course, there were never such harsh taxes or penalties under the Grand Duke's Regency - so -”

Lan whirled around to face Shun. “And no one stood to oppose a massacre of the common people?” Surely the rest of the Scholar-Counsellors and Royal Advisors would have revolted!

“A direct order from the king?” Shun's barked out a laugh. He shook his head. “Prince Mingsong, the king’s younger brother, stood and insisted against the order. For his troubles, he was stripped of his official post and placed in indefinite house arrest. That drew any further objections to a close.”

A cold chill settled into Lan. So, it was not just one, senseless decision. Indefinite house arrest…

King Ming Wang had eight siblings in total, three brothers and five sisters. The third Prince had died of an illness in childhood. The second Prince had been found guilty of a conspiracy for the throne a year before King Ming Wang’s official ascension and executed. Now his fifth brother was sentenced to indefinite house arrest. In the absence of sons, the king was quickly losing all his other potential heirs.

Lan reached out and touched Shun’s hand. “To serve the king is to sit under the Dragon’s claw.” It was an old phrase said amongst the scholar officials. The king was the Son of Heaven, represented by the five claw dragon. The closer a person’s position was to the king, the more that person’s life was subject to whims and changes in the king’s mood.

Shun managed a tight smile and his fingers lightly squeezed Lan’s in return. “The royal soothsayers have promised a quiet year with no natural disasters. I can only hope that to be the case.”

Lan nodded. “I hope so, too.” The gnawing sensation of trouble remained. It would take more than a year of good fortune and prosperity to reverse the memory of court-ordered death and destruction in the minds of the people. A year of good fortune and prosperity could hardly answer the question, who was it that made decisions behind the throne?

Chapter 10

Chapter Text

Despite the biting cold so close to the northern borders, winter seemed to pass quickly and relatively peacefully. Lan was not sure if it was Pao’s angry snarl, but in the next weeks there was no more talk of rebellion or the loss of Heaven’s favour in the kitchen and gossip fell back into the easy talk of trade, marriages, and births.

Every day, Shun insisted that Lan wake up and train with him in the morning, even when it felt as if the very sweat on their bodies would turn into shards of ice in the frigid air. Most bedrooms in large houses had a courtyard garden attached. They were usually styled with small limestone ‘mountains’ or deep ponds filled with goldfish. Shun’s courtyard mirrored the one attached to his bedroom in the capital: a utilitarian square of bare stone designed for martial arts training. Even when the rest of the open spaces in the house were covered with a blanket of white, Shun’s courtyard was free from the stuff. Lan pitied the servants who had to sweep away any snow in the dark hours before first light.

It was true that they were often warm enough after their workouts, but the first moments of the warm up drills that started just as the sun peaked over the horizon were beyond difficult. In the first few weeks, Lan had just gritted his teeth and reminded himself that Shun had always had this streak of insanity for his training even when they were both boys.

In the sixth week of winter, however, there was a series of large snowfalls and the air turned colder than Lan could ever imagine. The river Yang that coursed through the valley froze over in a thick layer of ice. Shun, of course, did not see any of that as a reason for a break in training and dragged Lan up for morning drills. It was so cold that Lan was sure that he and Shun both would lose the tip of their noses in frostbite. Something in him snapped.

“Even the wolves and the bears are burrowed away somewhere away from the cold,” he grumbled. “Are you trying to win a bet with someone to see what you can do to make your ears freeze into solid blocks of ice and drop off your head?”

He was answered with silence. Shun stared at him.

Lan clapped his hands over his mouth in horror. He dropped down onto his knees. The ground was so cold beneath him that it burned. Shun walked toward him and Lan braced himself for the the blow that he knew he well deserved. A hand hooked under his arm, and pulled him to his feet.

“I thought we had established that you’re not to kneel in front of me, anymore,” Shun said with a scowl. “Do I need to keep peeling you off the floor?”

Lan caught the irritated expression on Shun’s face. He had annoyed his Master, possibly made him angry. He should have been terrified. Yet, something about Shun’s expression triggered a memory. The last time Shun had looked at him like that Lan had been trying to goad him into skipping kitchen duties to sneak off to town with him. An inexplicable bubble of mirth rose in him. He had to press a hand to the back of his mouth to muffle the laughter.

“...Lan?” Shun stared at him for a moment and then his lip twitched. A few moments later, the first chuckle slipped out of Shun’s lips. His shoulders shook. They stood together in the cold morning air, laughing while their breaths misted around them.

Finally, Shun straightened and shook his head. “I know you have never liked the training, but I need to keep up my fitness and there is no one else here to spar with me.”

Then what were you doing all those years I wasn’t around? Lan opened his mouth and closed it again before he actually said something else entirely stupid. Instead, he raised an eyebrow at Shun and took the offered training sword. “Are you pulling rank on me, Master?”

Shun’s eyes widened. He hesitated for a moment. Then, he snorted and smirked. “From what I recall, you used to pull rank on me all the time…”

What Shun had said was not entirely untrue. Memories flashed into Lan’s mind. Even though Shun had been two years his elder, he had let Lan goad and bully him relentlessly.

They bowed toward one another and then Lan moved into his guard stance, knees bent, sword at the ready. “Are you talking about the one time I asked you to sneak some bao from the kitchens?”

Shun rolled his eyes “I’m talking about the time you convinced me to climb the tree in your father’s private courtyard just so you could taste the summer’s first plums.”

That forced another laugh out of Lan. “You must admit they were delicious.”

“I don’t think they were completely worth the beating I received when I got caught,” Shun said dryly, “With three plums down my shirt and one in my mouth.” He paused. “I was surprised when you came and insisted that you had equal share in my punishment.”

Lan felt a sharp stab of regret at those words. His father had been away in the capital and despite all of Lan’s arguments the household steward refused to budge in his judgement that Shun needed to be punished. It had been Lan’s fault after all - his idea and his teasing and pleading that convinced Shun to climb the tree.

He shrugged and looked away. “I don’t think I can feel my fingers anymore,” he said, finally.

Another eye roll. “Very well, si ye,” Shun teased and then added, “If you down me and make me stay down for three seconds I won’t ask you to keep sparring with me anymore.”

Si ye. His old title sent a little shiver down his spine. Lan shook his head against the sensation. “Fine. You’ll need to watch yourself then, Master.”

They bowed toward each other and then Lan let his muscles slide into guard stance. When Shun came at him with a swing, Lan managed to duck just in time to swipe at Shun’s legs. They exchanged a series of blows, the clang of metal against metal loud in the stone paved courtyard. Even if he was grudging about it, Lan had to admit that with the weeks of forced training, he was starting to remember the lessons of his childhood. Some days it was even rather enjoyable.

It was, of course, pure fantasy to think that he would be able to beat Shun who was likely double his weight in pure muscle. Shun had only taken six months to exceed two years of Lan's training when they were children. The challenge was to floor Shun. Shun was tall and Lan was short which meant Lan had more advantage with low hitting attacks that could trip Shun and use his weight and momentum against him. The prospect of mornings spent sleeping in a warm bed beckoned.

Lan feinted to the side, then - as Shun moved to dodge him - he swung down, and struck the man's legs. He ducked under Shun's counter strike and reached for the man's shirt. Lan pulled - hard. Once the momentum started, there was almost nothing Shun could do to stop the inevitable. They both tumbled forward, rolling a little before finally landing on the ground. Lan kept his fingers tight around Shun's shirt. “One-” he gasped, winded. ‘Two - three -”

“You know this isn’t what I meant right?” Shun tried to pull away from his grasp and Lan didn't need to look up at Lan’s face to know he was rolling his eyes at him.

“Your exact words were if I down you and keep you down for three seconds, Master.” Lan grinned up at Shun who had a mix of irritation and disgust written over his features and burst out laughing again. “I've counted three seconds.”

Shun grumbled. “Fine, I guess you get to sleep in tomorrow.” The tone of his voice just made Lan laugh harder, until tears leaked out of the corner of his eyes. It didn't take long for Shun to join in. The ground was cold underneath him but Shun’s body heat enveloped him like a warm cooon. There was one point that Lan would have leaned up and stolen an insolent kiss. He licked his lips and looked up at Shun.

Shun’s weight peeled off him cold flooded the space he left. A hand waved into his vision. Lan grasped it and got to his feet. It was time for breakfast. The time for stolen kisses was long past.

Shun was born two weeks before the New Year. To Lan, Shun's birthday had always been a signal of the long weeks of celebrations to come. Yuzheng had clearly held back no effort in planning for her son's birthday. Magistrate Li, and, it seemed, half the village were invited. The number of people was overwhelming. Lan refused to sit at the table. For once, Shun didn't try to pull him up or slide onto the floor next to him, and Yuzheng did not say anything. The weight of Shun's hand on his shoulder was reassuring. Shun had made sure to pass Lan his favourite foods as well as plenty of rice wine. Lan waved the bowls of wine away. He was already red faced and light headed after his third bowl. He was sure that any drink he turned down ended up in Shun’s share of the alcohol. It was difficult to keep track exactly of how much Shun had to drink.

By the end of the night, they were both swaying as they walked back toward their bedroom. Shun slung an arm around Lan’s waist and Lan grinned as he half staggered under Shun’s weight. It had been a good birthday celebration to mark the first year after Shun had reached his thirtieth decade. They were both full of food and Lan couldn’t remember the last time Shun had drunk so much wine - or been so merry.

“Hey,” He poked Shun’s side gently, “Don’t lean on me so much. If you topple us over, I’m not going to be able to drag you back up.”

Shun muttered something unintelligible and swatted Lan’s hand away. To Shun’s credit, he did lean away from Lan - just slightly. Lan rolled his eyes. He pulled another arm around his Master and guided him into the bedroom. Finally, he managed to push Shun onto the bed. The man’s eyes were already closed. Lan stripped Shun down to his underclothes as best he could and left the alcohol soaked outer robes in the corner.

When he turned back to the bed, Shun’s eyes were half open and watching him. He grabbed Lan’s hand and Lan let himself be pulled in against his solid chest. Shun’s hand stroked his cheek. “I...I missed you all those years,” he said softly, and then, after a pause, “I don’t think I did ever stop being in love with you.”

The words made Lan freeze. Pain blossomed through his chest. He closed his eyes for a moment and let out a long breath. Just the ramblings of a drunk man. He patted Shun’s cheek. “You really are drunk tonight, Master.” He tried to sit up and move to disentangle himself from Shun’s arms. Lan was immediately yanked down on top of Shun again.

Then, Shun’s lips closed on his.

Lan’s eyes widened and he tried to pull away but Shun’s grip on him was too strong. Shun’s breath was heavy with the stench of alcohol and his cheek was already rough against Lan’s skin. He felt strong hands scrabble for the tie to his clothing. Lan stiffened and then forced himself to go still. This wasn’t something unexpected. The surprise was more in how long it had taken Shun to reach this point. Lan was a slave, and slaves were simply there to serve a need.

Shun’s lips ghosted down his neck. “Si ye….” His old titled was breathed against his shoulder and Lan couldn’t suppress his shudder. Shun’s hands were gentle at least. They stripped slowly, calloused fingers tracing patterns across his skin. Lan leaned into the bed and closed his eyes. He shivered as cold air hit his exposed bottom. Shun was drunk. Drunk men, in his experience, f*cked and were sated quickly. He would just need to bear with it a few moments longer. Shun wouldn’t hurt him.

Rather than a rough fingering and a quick f*ck, Shun chose to drape himself over Lan’s back and his lips nibbled at the base of Lan’s neck. His body was heavy on Lan’s and it pressed Lan down onto the mattress.

Hands pinned him onto the mattress before ropes encircled his wrists and ankles - binding him there. A gag was stuffed into his mouth. Lan pulled and struggled against them as the heavy weight of fat Official Chou draped himself over his body. The man’s breath was foul at his neck. “Who would have thought under those navy Scholar robes your body would be as pretty as a whor*’s?” Stubby fingers stabbed into his hole. Lan strained and tried to kick out against the man but he was too well tied down.

Lan struggled against the weight that pinned him down. “No - no - please - “ For a moment, he was sure that he was going to get a backhand for daring to protest. Then, the body above him rolled away. Lan curled up into a ball and pulled the covers over himself. All he could hear was both their breaths, heavy in the night air.

“Lan?” Shun’s voice sounded hesitant. He rubbed at his eyes. “What - was...am I dreaming?” Fingers reached to touch his cheek and Lan flinched. He squeezed his eyes shut.

“Please…” His heart hammered in his chest.

“Lan?” More hesitation. “Why are you - oh heavens…”

It was only Shun, he told himself. Only Shun. Shun would not hurt him. Shun had always been gentle and kind and sweet. Lan was Shun’s slave. Lan needed to serve Shun. The words swirled around in his mind but Lan could not get his body to relax.

Shun made a strangled sound. “Oh - oh Lan. I’m sorry. Did I hurt you?” His fingers reached for Lan again and Lan knew he should just hold still like a good slave and let his Master touch him - but he shied away.

“Lan. I - I thought I was in a dream - I’m sorry. I - I will leave you alone.” Footsteps retreated from the bed, first slowly then faster the further away they got. The bedroom door slammed suddenly and Lan was left alone, in silence.

Lan lay in the bed. He felt paralysed. He could still feel the hot breath at his back and those alien fingers on his thighs. He shuddered again. Hot tears rolled down his cheeks and soaked into the bed. His hands shook as he buried his head into the pillows, sobbing out the bitterness that threatened to overwhelm him,

Lan slept alone for weeks after that night. He had no idea where Shun slept. Some mornings, Lan woke to the creak of a bedroom door opening and the sound of a person fumbling for clothing. If he closed his eyes and continued to breathe slowly and deeply, eventually the door would close and he would be left alone again.

For two days after the incident it had seemed like a relief. Lan didn’t know what to say to Shun and it was easier to sleep on an empty bed and pretend that Shun would just join him. It was surprising, as the days stretched to weeks how lonely he was. There was no more talk of sparring practice. Shun did not join him for breakfast or lunch. At dinner, they sat at opposite sides of the table. If Yuzheng noticed their silence, she did not comment.

Shun had started to look more pale. In the candlelight of the evening, the area under his eyes looked almost bruised. Lan had walked through the house one evening, wanting find Shun and asking him what he was doing at night but other than the brief appearances at mealtimes, his Master was nowhere to be found.

The preparations for the New Year that heralded the coming of spring were well underway. The servants were all busy cleaning every nook and cranny of the house. The character “福”, representing fortune had been cut out of red paper and pasted upside down at almost every door frame and window - to draw luck into the house. Lan tried to help as best he could, and ignored the stifling tension caused by Shun’s absence.

Yuzheng had looked through the house inventory and made a list of things she needed before the New Year. She wanted to go down to the markets and Lan had seen it immediately as an excuse to escape the house. He had been quick to volunteer.

Lan wasn’t sure what to expect of the the first market of the year. Certainly, the traders needed to be willing to brave the cold and the sleet for the chance to sell their goods. He was surprised. If it weren’t for the snowflakes that settled on his nose and eyelashes, Lan would not have believed it was the tail end of winter, the markets were so busy. Stallholders called out advertising their wares. Even fortune tellers stood at the street corners offering to tell of luck or fortune - for a fee. He managed to pick out new candles, a bundle of red envelopes, and paper enough to repair two lanterns.

Lan saw yet another fortune teller as he turned a street corner. She was an old, shrunken, woman with a cloud of white hair and skin as dark and split as old leather. She reached out, spindly fingers closing around Lan’s.

“You serve the Lion of Jin.”

Lan frowned and tried to shake off the grasp. A bitter wind blew past them both and sent his teeth chattering. How long had it been since this old woman had eaten or seen warmth? His free hand reached into his money pouch. “I have a busy day, grandmother. Here is some silver for your troubles but I do not have time for my fortune to be told.”

Instead of letting go, her fingers pressed deeper into Lan’s skin. He could feel the sharpness of nails digging into his wrist.

“Listen to me, - listen and beware. The hunters stalk the Lion in the shadows, unseen and unheard. They come with smiling masks but will turn and will stab him in the dark. You need to warn the Lion, young Crane.”

Lan felt a shiver run through his spine. His mind flashed to the painting that still hung in Shun’s bedroom. Then he flushed and tried harder to tug his arm away. This was the sort of rubbish used to tempt more coin out of unsuspecting victims.“I am neither young, nor a Crane, grandmother, as you can clearly see.”

The fortune teller shook her head. “Be patient, young Crane. Although you are maimed and your wings are clipped, one day you will fly free. You need to guide the Lion, Crane, and watch over him for you will have a far better view of the shadows and the hunters.

A rattle of hooves on cobblestones split the air and the fortune teller’s hands slipped away. Two heralds, dressed in black embroidered with yellow- the colours of the king’s court - rode down the main street. Lan’s eyes followed them as they rounded a corner and then sped off in the direction of the Wei Household.

“Do not forget my words, Young Crane.”

Lan whipped his head around. He opened his mouth to ask the old woman what she had meant by her words. The spot where the old woman had been was empty.

The heralds’ horses were still outside the Wei household by the time Lan had walked back. They stood in the main courtyard. Shun, Yuzheng and the rest of the household knelt before them, ready to receive the word from the Crown.

Lan bit back a gasp and ducked behind a wall before he could be seen.

“A message from the king for General Wei.”

Shun fell to a deep kowtow. “We are ready to receive the words of his majesty, the lord of a thousand years.”

“As decreed by his majesty, King Ming Wang. A request is made of General Wei Shun and the convict-slave Cheng Lan to return to the capital. A delegation from Xu is to arrive and the General is asked to assist in the welcoming. Do you accept?”

“Yes, we will leave immediately.” The message was put into Shun’s hands as he stood.

Lan let out a long breath from where he hid. They would leave immediately. He had hoped to be away from the clutches of the capital for a little longer. He frowned as he replayed the words back in his mind. He had been especially included in that decree. What did the royal court want with him now, after all this time?

Chapter 11

Chapter Text

The journey back to the capital was uneventful. Shun’s determination to avoid Lan extended beyond the Wei household. There was no talk or singing as they rode this time. Lan opened his mouth several times to ask why - but could not form the question enough to bring it to air.

They they took the longer route so that camping out in the snow was not required. It meant three days ride instead of two but each evening they could reach a town and an inn to sleep. Lan decided decided that he would save his questions for the their first night together sharing a room at one of the inns along their route. He had not expected a far more ridiculous situation presented itself. The rooms, of course, were designed for a single traveller - although it could fit the both of them if they slept close. Shun had taken one look at them and then made the suggestion that Lan sleep on the only bed, while he slept on the floor.

Lan had protested. “A slave cannot sleep on the bed while his Master sleeps on the floor.” The idea was preposterous. The only thing worse would have been if Shun had asked to pay for separate rooms for his supposed bed slave. Shun had looked at Lan and then looked away, muttering something about Lan’s safety. He had tried to argue that it was unlikely anyone would come in while they were both asleep. They finally compromised, stripping the inn’s bed and each sleeping on the floor against opposite walls of the room in a cocoon of blankets.

Even the journey back to the capital did not prepare Lan for the incredulous moment after they arrived. It was the middle of the day and half the servants of Shun’s meagre staff had already left to spend the New Year with their family and it was even more empty than usual. They stabled their own horses and then Shun lead him the main guest bedroom.

They were both standing at the threshold to the room when Shun said suddenly, “Perhaps it would be better if you slept here.” Lan stared at Shun for a moment, mouth agape. He could not possibly be serious. Shun refused to meet Lan’s eyes and Lan frowned and clamped his mouth shut. It was time to put an end to all this silliness.

There seemed to be no others nearby, but still Lan could not risk them being overheard. He grabbed Shun’s wrist and tugged him inside, making sure the doors were well closed before spinning around to face Shun.

“I cannot sleep in a guest room, Master. Are you mad? We are in the capital, a stone’s throw away from the palace! You know the crimes that my family has been accused of. You cannot be seen to show undue favour to me - and you show enough of that already!”

Shun sighed and set his jaw. “Last time…when we slept...you were curled up and crying.” He looked away. “You will be safer here.”

Last time… In the weeks that followed, Lan had had a long time to think about what had happened. Shun had been drunk and kissed him, but as soon as Lan had uttered a word of protest he had stopped. It was far better than any other Master he had served in the last years. Lan sucked in a breath and let it out slowly. When Shun had kissed him, Lan had not thought he would be allowed to protest. If he had said no after the kiss, would Shun have stopped? Could that simple, drunken kiss have become something that they could laugh about in time instead of the evening that transpired?

“We were both drunk - you more than me. You kissed me Shun, and you stopped as soon as I said no - before anything happened.” Lan met Shun’s eyes and another memory of that night flickered through his mind. I don’t think I did ever stop loving you. Lan closed his eyes. Shun showed no indication he remembered those words being said. Lan didn’t want to know the true meaning behind them.

“I….I will sleep on the floor, then.” Shun said.

This - again. Lan wondered if Shun would actually protest if he walked up to the man, took both shoulders in his hands, and shook him until his teeth rattled. Instead, he walked up to Shun and took his hand. “I am your slave, Master,” he said. Shun all but flinched away from his touch but Lan’s fingers curled around Shun’s palm and held firm. He looked up searchingly at Shun’s face. “I have said it to you already - I cannot sleep on the bed while you have the floor. We are in your home now. How ridiculous would it be if we both continue to ignore your perfectly good bed for the cold, hard, floor?” His other hand reached up, fingers lightly stroking Shun’s cheek. “You stopped when I asked you to - and we were both drunk and foolish.”

Shun reached up his hand and Lan felt Shun’s warm fingers slide against his own. Shun nodded slowly. “I promise, then, that I won’t ever drink again.”

That response forced a soft snort of laughter out of Lan. “You shouldn’t make promises you can’t keep,” he retorted. “We are entering the New Year and there will be celebrations and festivities. At some point, Shun, you will be expected to drink.” He closed his eyes for a moment and let out a sigh. “Just promise me that you will stop - if I ask you to.”

Shun frowned. “You trust me - even after I…”

Lan opened his eyes to glare up Shun. He was tempted to step heavily on Shun’s foot. He had been the one who had been forcibly kissed and pinned down to the bed, and yet it was Shun who required comforting. “I trust you,” he said, finally.

“Thank you.” Shun leaned forward and his lips brushed Lan’s forehead. It was a tiny, meaningless, gesture but, in an instant, it melted the annoyance and frustration out of Lan. He let go of Shun’s hands and stepped back.

“So it is settled then? Or should I continue to sleep on the floor, Master - if you are still worried?” Lan couldn’t help it as the corner of his mouth tugged up in a smile.

Shun frowned, “Of course you are sleeping on the bed with me. It’s far too cold on the floor at this time of the year. You always hated the cold.”

Lan bit his lip against another snort of laughter. It was too cold for either of them to be sleeping on the floor, and yet that was what Shun had been offering and what they had been doing every night of the three day ride from Yangnan. He decided that it was better not to comment. Instead, he slid the door open. “Thank you, Master,” he said, and blinked out into the courtyard. The flush of plum blossoms in the courtyard held the promise of Spring and the New Year. He felt Shun’s warm, solid presence behind him. “When do you attend the palace?”

“Tomorrow,” Shun said. “I should be back by sundown. Why don’t you meet me in the kitchens after sundown? We can have New Year’s Eve dinner together.” He paused. The smile slipped off his face and he sighed heavily, “I will have to wear those official robes again.”

Lan remembered what Shun had looked like in the maroon robes of a Military-Offical. They had hugged the outline of his broad shoulders, suggesting the muscle that lay below. The embroidered lion splayed across Shun’s chest emphasised Shun’s authority. The colour brought a warmth to the man’s skin. Lan felt his own cheeks heat a little at the image his memory brought to mind.

The hunters stalk the Lion in the shadows.

The old fortune teller’s words flashed through his mind and sent a sudden shiver through Lan that had nothing to do with the cold. A sense of unease settled into his stomach. Lan shook his head. He looked up at Shun’s profile, outlined in the midday sun. Shun was strong, victorious, and clearly favoured in court. Those words were simply the ramblings of an old woman designed to entice coin onto palm for further information, empty and meaningless. He did not need to dwell on them any further.

All meetings of the royal court were conducted in Hall of Golden Sunrise. Long windows on either side of the room allowed the rays of the morning sun to filter in and dance along the gilded carvings of dragons on the ceiling beams and columns, filling the room with a soft, golden, glow.

The king’s throne was at the very front with the Grand Duke, chief of his advisors seated at his right hand. On the king’s left was Prince Mingyu, the ninth prince. He sat with his arms crossed over his chest, face turned away from the royal advisors that stood below, a petulant frown on his face. Below the dais, the room was divided into halves by a long central corridor. The Scholar Officials stood on the right in their robes of navy blue and the Military Officials were on the left in maroon.

Only a few months ago, Shun would have stood amongst the sea of maroon in the middle of the room. Now, he stood at the very front. Lord Mao and Lord Pan stood on either side of him. The four claw dragons embroidered on their Mandarin Squares and shoulders of their robes denoted their blood ties to the throne. Never before had he felt so much like the raw kitchen boy surrounded by nobles.

“As you all know, we are gathered here to plan the celebrations of a great union.” King Ming Wang looked much younger than his twenty three years. Short and pale, he stood to his uncle’s shoulder. He had a habit of inflecting each of his sentences so it sounded as if every statement he made was a question.

“The kingdom of Xu, alongside Rong has been a great ally of ours in the past year. Our Princess Baiyu’s marriage to Prince Shengli of Rong has truly sealed our partnership. This week, we will welcome a party from Xu - Prince Huiqing and four of his Generals - who will meet our Prince Mingyu before he journeys back to Xu as Prince Consort.”

The hall broke into a flurry of surprised whispers. Prince Minyu had not yet been birthed when King Taizhong had been killed in a tragic carriage accident. He had just reached his nineteenth year - barely more than a boy. Worse yet, he still acted like a child. Could he really be able to solidify the tenuous union between Jin and Xu? Shun glanced up towards the dais. The young prince yawned. He did not even seem to register that his impending marriage had just been announced.

Two claps from the dais silenced the room. All heads bowed towards the front.

“The party from Xu will arrive next week, in the height of the New Year. We need a grand celebration for our young prince’s marriage and to send him off as he leaves our Household for Xu.” This time, it was the Grand Duke who spoke. Although taller than his nephew, he had the pale complexion and willowy build that was characteristic of the royal family. Well into his fifth decade, he only possessed a few strands of silver through his jet black hair to show for his age. Unlike the king, his words were slow, measured, and even. “I propose a competition to be held in a fortnight’s time. We should show our ally how strong we are - and Prince Huiqing, who is Commander of his father’s Eastern forces, would surely appreciate a good show.”

“Indeed, Uncle,’ The king smiled at the grand duke. “Lord Mao has volunteered his eldest, our heroic General Duyi, to compete. I believe General Pan Guo has also graciously volunteered.” He turned to Shun. “What about you, our dearest General Wei? You are not short of admirers of your spear work, I hear.”

Shun felt a prickle of unease slide down his spine. Of the two generals named, he had only met General Pan. He had been Field Commander Pan, then, and Shun had just been Lieutenant Wei, freshly past his military examination. He still remembered the way Commander Pan had sneered at him and spat at his feet. What is the kingdom coming to? Allowing peasant filth into the ranks of officers. Shun had been grateful that he had been assigned North when Commander Pan had been assigned to the East. The fathers of those two men now stood on either side of him, but the two generals stood three rows behind, with those who were also second tier in rank. It was with an uncomfortable wonder that Shun realised he now outranked them.

When he looked up, the Grand Duke’s eyes seemed to bore down on him. Shun clasped his hands in front of himself and bowed low. “Your Majesty’s compliments are too kind. I am just a simple soldier, but I would be honored to participate in such a Competition.” The two lords beside him shifted slightly in their stance but neither would turn to meet Shun’s eye.

The king smiled and clapped his hands. “It is decided, then. I hope that you will encourage many of your fellow soldiers also to compete. We will have a great honor for the winner of the Competition.”

Shun bowed in response. His mind spun. A simple competition amongst the military was a common occurrence. It would provide an entertaining spectacle and boost the people’s morale. However, it was nothing that would require an urgent summons before winter was nearly over. To serve the king is to sit under the Dragon’s claw. Lan’s words echoed in his mind. The heavy silks of the formal robes felt suffocating. What else did the royal court want with him?

“There is another proposition I would like to ask of you, General.” The king spoke again. “However, perhaps it would be better that Lord Pan speak, as it was his idea.”

“Your majesty,” Beside him, Lord Pan bowed low. “Our esteemed General Wei here is almost the same age as Prince Huiqing is said to be and both of them skilled in the military arts. Would it not make sense if General Wei personally entertains the young prince rather than suffer through hours with old men like me? General Wei even has a townhouse and would be better placed to show Prince Huiqing our glorious capital.”

It was all Shun could do not to turn around and stare at Lord Pan incredulously. The fact that Shun’s household had not increased in size since he had first bought his house as a mere Captain was hardly a secret. It was well suited to Shun’s needs but it was hardly a residence where royal guests could be entertained. Now that the king had asked such a thing of him, Shun could not possibly refuse - but this delegation from Xu would feel insulted no matter how much effort he used to attend them.

“I hope you would be happy to oblige, General?”

“Of course, your majesty.” Shun forced the words out, head bowed. “I would be honoured to oblige.” How was he to achieve such a thing without completely dishonoring himself and the royal court?

It was after the meeting had concluded that the Grand Duke found him again. The hallways that lined the palace twisted through open gardens and private courtyards. They collided with each other and then fanned out again, worse than a maze. Shun had finally turned into the main walkway that would see him out of the palace doors when a figure clad in blue silk embroidered with golden dragons stepped into his field of vision. Shun stopped and bowed low immediately.

“This General greets his Royal Grace,” He said.

“Oh, don’t bother with such formalities,” The words were followed by a low chuckle. “I should come and convey my thanks. Not only have we dragged you out of your home just before the New Year, we have foisted not only one, but two, favours out of you.”

Shun bowed again. “I am honoured to serve the crown.” He said. Discomfort slid and coiled in his stomach. He remembered the Grand Duke’s words. I invested much of my time, taming him. He could not shake off the image of Lan, curled up on his knees, terrified to meet Shun’s eyes on that first day.

“Of course you are, and I am sure you will do well, general. The Crown is ever grateful to have you in its service. I hope all is well with your household - with Lady Yuzheng and that new slave of yours?”

The oily tone of the man’s voice made Shun’s skin crawl. He closed his eyes and took two breaths to compose himself before he answered. “My mother is well, thank you General. As for Lan - he serves me well.”

“Ah - good. I am glad that the Lady Yuzheng is in good health,” The Grand Duke’s lips curled into a smile. His eyes remained hard. “You need to be careful with that slave, General. The Cheng household, as you know, were sentenced for treachery. From the compassion in my heart, I could not bear to see the whole family extinguished and so I asked our king to keep Cheng Lan alive. However, once a traitor, always a traitor. I heard that you bestowed favours on him - new clothes, a new fur cloak? You need to be careful, General, that he does not turn around and bite you - as he once did.”

Lan’s warnings hit Shun all at once. I am a convict slave...you cannot possibly show me favour. Shun had to suck another deep breath before he was able reply to that statement. “The fur cloak is an old and threadbare one of mine I had no need for. Poor Lan, he has always had a terrible constitution.” I am just meant to be your bed warmer. Shun knew what he was expected to say. He swallowed against the bile that threatened to rise up in his throat. “It’s not that comfortable, f*cking a body that is blue and half frozen with cold. This way, I keep him grateful and pliant in bed. He knows who owns him, you grace.”

“Ah that is good to hear. I was afraid….” The words trailed off as the Grand Duke regarded his hands. “After all, you know that he is a convict slave: Lan’s slavery is part of his punishment. Some would consider it treason if his road was made too comfortable for him.”

This time, Shun could not bring himself to answer. His stomach churned. He bowed again and was met with another laugh.

“It seems that you know what you are doing, General. I bid you a good day and look forward to seeing your performance at our little competition.”

It was only when the Grand Duke’s footsteps disappeared down the hallway that Shun allowed himself to straighten. He closed his eyes and shook a shudder out of his body. Lan would be waiting for him at home, he reminded himself, and he had promised to celebrate New Year’s Eve together. The surprise he had planned for Lan was something he had been looking forward to. Shun’s hands clenched for a moment in his robes before he left them unfurl. All the Grand Duke had to go by at the moment were rumours and Shun would be more careful. With a shake of his head, he continued his way out of the palace.

Chapter 12

Chapter Text

I should be back by sundown, Shun had said, Meet me in the kitchens and we will eat New Year’s Eve dinner together. The servants that had been present during the day had left for their families for New Year’s Eve. It was not an uncommon custom to let one’s staff go home during the passing of the New Year but it was usually done in shifts and rotations. Shun’s house was the first that Lan had heard of where all the servants disappeared to have their nanyiefan - the meal that heralded in the New Year - and left the Master of the household to fend for himself.

Perhaps Shun had finally realised the change in their position and wanted Lan to cook and serve him. The thought made Lan laugh. Shun would be in for a rude shock if that was the case. Lan had not attempted to do anything with a stove since he had been eleven -- and nearly set fire to the household kitchen when Shun was trying to teach him to boil an egg.

Lan turned down the hallway that lead to the service areas of the household. When he reached the doorway of the kitchens, he froze. Was he dreaming - or was that his supposed master sitting at a kitchen bench, half covered in flour as he rolled jiaozi dumpling casings?

Shun looked up, met his eyes, and broke out in a grin. He waved. Lan scowled and crossed the threshold. “What are you doing?” He looked Shun up and down. At least Shun seemed to have the sense to change out of his official robes.

“I know that in the south we used to have sweet tangyuan dumplings for breakfast during the New Year, but I have found myself used to the jiaozi of the north,” He smiled brightly. “During the New Years festivities at Yangnan, my mother always made jiaozi.” He shrugged, “Since we can’t pass the New Year up there, I thought that we could do the same thing here.”

“All the servants have gone home, you know.” Lan moved to sit opposite, resting his chin on his hands as he watched Shun work. “Generally the master of the house doesn’t actually prepare the New Year’s feast.”

“I am not altogether unfamiliar around a kitchen...” Shun shrugged, “Besides, this is my mother’s recipe.” He winked, “Jiaozi represent good fortune and are well suited to be eaten for the passing of the year. I had instructed Dong to release everyone back home for New Year’s Eve. It was a little late to reverse things when we received summons back to capital, but this should be a good enough meal for the both of us.”

Shun’s fingers rolled small rounds of dough into flat little discs. A filling of mince and garlic chives were placed in the center and Shun then deftly pinched the pastry to make the inglot shaped jiaozi. The dexterity was mesmerizing. Lan found himself reaching a hand out for one of the dumplings to examine them more closely.

“Don’t poke at them.” Shun said and swatted away Lan’s hand.

Lan resisted the urge to stick his tongue out at him. Instead he picked up a plate full of already made jiaozi. “These go in the water right? Is that what the pot on the stove is for?”

“Yes - but just be careful. Last time you were near a stove, you nearly set the kitchen alight.”

This time Lan did stick his tongue out before he picked up the plate and walked to the pot. Each plump little parcel plopped as they hit the boiling water. He put the lid back on and then turned back to Shun. “So, what did the king want with you that required such urgent summons?”

Shun paused in what he was doing. For a moment, he stared out into the distance, as if in thought, then shook his head. “A delegation from Xu will arrive in the next week. A prince of their court - Prince Huiqing - ”

Prince Huiqing? Here? Lan froze. Huiqing had been one of the first princes he had met as a young diplomat when he had first arrived in Xu. Two young men of similar age with not dissimilar interests - they had become easy friends. When Huiqing had not been tasked to the borders, he had shown Lan around Keijing, Xu’s capital. Huiqing had even insisted that he show Lan the turquoise waters of Valley of Nine.

“...and so I have no idea how I am meant to entertain such a delegation of guests here. It is not as if Lord Pan does not know the size of my house.”

“Oh - yes, right.” What guests did they need to entertain? Lan forced a smile and scoffed. “Well, if you had purchased a house that befitted your station....”

Shun scowled. “One week - the king expects me to entertain in one week. I do not think I can even fit a party of six ordinary citizens in my dining room!”

Lan frowned. He had never understood why Shun had stayed in such a small residence. The dining room could fit four comfortably and perhaps five at a stretch. Even the kitchen was larger. There was only one room large enough in the household was big enough to entertain a dinner party...

“The study.” Lan said.

Shun’s head shot up. “What?”

“Your study. It takes up the entire East wall of the household.”

“- and so we eat at my desk, surrounded by books?”

The clattering the lid of boiling pot interrupted Lan’s reply. Shun strode forward. One batch of dumplings was ladled into a bowl and another bath tipped into the pot to cook.

“Will the servants be back next week?”

Shun shrugged, “Yes and if so - ?”

“Then we ask them to help with moving the desks out of the study temporarily. Even if we leave the screen and your bookshelves there, it is still a large enough space to entertain a dinner party.”

Shun made a face. “Won't they think it strange - eating amongst books?”

“Less strange than you not being able to fit their party in your house, master General.” Lan rolled his eyes. The lid of the pot clattered again. Lan ladled out the last of the jioazi and Shun moved the heavy pot from the stove. Lan found chopsticks and spoons for them both and Shun poured out black vinegar onto a plate. Lan looked at it then glanced at Shun.

“Does your kitchen have chilli oil?”

Shun looked at Lan in surprise. “Chilli oil?” A quick rummage through the cupboards procured the item. “Since when did you start liking spicy food?”

Lan took a dumpling, dipped it in the vinegar chilli oil mix and bit into it. He smiled at the explosion of heat and flavour. “How long will they be in the capital before they dine with you?”

“A week.”

“Then they will likely have sampled much of the delicacies that Jin has to offer. Your cook cannot possibly compare to the palace.” Lan picked up another dumpling. “It is a week’s travel to Kejing, the Xu capital, in summer, it will be even longer in winter.” He met Shun's eyes. “Assuming that is where the party will leave from, they will likely be homesick and missing their own food. Jing’s cuisine will be too sweet and heavy with soy for them. If we provide a meal with plenty of spice and heat, I am sure they would appreciate it.”

The “numbing-heat” style of Xu cuisine was well known throughout the Four Kingdoms. It would be difficult to find the special chuan peppercorns that produced the spice typical of that region in Jin, but there would be chilli oil and dried chilli flakes available to flavour the food at this time of year.

“You seem to know much about Xu,” Shun said. He gave Lan a thoughtful look. “I thought you were aiming for a position within the treasury?”

“I was offered a position within the Treasury and Revenue Department,” Lan said. “But my father had just been assigned a new position: as Jing’s ambassador to Xu to seal the treaty between our nations. I wanted to be a part of it - for peace.” Lan looked away. “I volunteered to help and so I do know Xu’s customs well. I even ended up learning some of the local dialect - although of course, everyone used the common language in court.”

It had been five years spent in Xu in the end, and another five years had passed since. Would Huiqing even remember him? The Eighteenth Prince of Xu's court had as many lovers as there were stars. Lan wasn’t even sure if he counted to be numbered amongst them.

“You...you think this will work?”

“I was so absolutely miserable and homesick my first month there. Nothing tasted right. I would have been grateful for any comfort that reminded me of home.” Lan said. He met Shun’s eyes and considered his next words carefully. “I managed to learn some Xu tunes for the qin. You could have your slave play at some point during dinner and have them be impressed at how Jin’s military are much more than simple brawn.”

Lan had been surprised how cultured even the military men of Xu were. They could very well be impressed by a musical performance - as long as Huiqing didn’t remember that he had taught some of Xun’s tunes to a young visiting diplomat all those years ago.

Shun’s expression was skeptical but he shrugged. “Well, I suppose nothing could be worse than my current situation and you would know Xu better than me.”

It took half the morning to move out the furniture in Shun's study and the servants had finally left to help with the meal preparations. Lan looked at the final layout of the room, hands on hips and nodded with a smile. As he had thought, even with the screen and the bookshelves of Shun's library, it was still a good space for entertaining.

A small side table with the qin on top had been left with a stool placed next to it for Lan. His brow furrowed as he looked at it. Ideally, the instrument and the musician would be unobtrusive but visible enough that when he played, the diners could watch him if they wanted to. If he moved the set up a little more away from the wall so it sat just behind Shun's seating, it would be perfect.

The table holding the qin was heavier than Lan thought. He ended up putting the instrument to a side and grasping the small side table with both hands. As his fingers curled around the underside, his right hand pressed against something that gave with a soft ‘pop’. A drawer slid out the side. Within it was a bundle of incense, a small censer, and little bundle of red silk. The material came away with a light tug. Lan gasped. It had revealed a wooden ancestral tablet, small enough to be slipped into a sleeve or carried in a pocket. His fingers shook a little as they reached out to trace the name on it. 成岚 Cheng Lan. His tablet.

Lan let out a long breath and swallowed against the lump that had suddenly welled in his throat. Shun was more of an idiot than he had thought. This tablet should not exist. If Lan truly had died, he certainly did not deserve Shun burning incense and paper inglots at his memorial tablet. When he had thrown those words in Shun’s face in a fit of careless rage, the hurt on Shun’s face had been unmistakable. Shun should have hated him, not wasted time carving his name into a block of wood.

Lan had been right. The study space, once cleared, was more than large enough to host a dinner party. All set up, it even looked the part of a proper dining hall. It could hardly be imagined that hours earlier, the room had even been a study.

Shun had ordered his cook to work with Lan in the planning and preparation of their evening meal to attempt to recreate some of the tastes of Xu as best they could, so far from the border. The result was that half the dishes were so awash with red that Shun scarcely dared touch them. He had to smile, though, when he saw some of his own favourite dishes also on the table. At least Lan had left him something he could eat.

“Has General Wei visited Xu in the past?” General Wu laughed and held up his hand, clasped over his fist -- a motion that was a sign a sign of respect throughout the Four Kingdoms. He was a stout, squat, man with his hair swept back in a simple cloth tie and the beginnings of a beard on his chin. “Jin offers many delicacies, but to this man’s Xu tongue and stomach, nothing compares to a taste that reminds of home.”

Shun smiled. “No, I had not, but the staff of my household are not all local to the capital. They and I well know what it means to travel long distances and miss the comforts of home.” He held out his wine cup in a toast. “To safe travels and journeys now and in the future.”

The clink of cup on cup filled the room.

“We thank you for your hospitality, General Shun.” For someone who was in command of Xu’s Eastern forces, Sun had expected a man taller and broader, but Huiqing stood a head shorter than any of his accompanying generals and his clean shaven round face and full cheeks made him look younger than his years. His hair was bound up with a simple golden guan and hairpin over his top knot that denoted his rank, but he was clad in a simple woollen hanfu like that of his men. “I understand that you were dragged from your estate north of here to attend to us.”

Shun shook his head. “It is no inconvenience. The transition from winter to spring is slightly more gentle here in the capital than in my home estate.”

“What? This is gentle?” General Shui threw back his head and laughed. He looked so similar to Wu, Shun was sure the two of them were brothers. “I would not like to know what winter is back in your hometown then, General.”

Shun knew the exact moment that Lan walked into the study. Prince Huiqing stopped mid bite of food and stared past his shoulder. The other generals stopped to look at what had captured their leader's attention.

“Your highness…?” Shun said. Why was Huiqing suddenly so distracted by Lan’s entrance?

Huiqing smiled and shook his head. “Oh I apologise, General. It is just, the slave you own looks similar to a man I once knew.”

Shun had turned his head slightly to speak to the prince. In the cover of his eye he saw Lan stiffen for a moment before bowing over his qin again. Shun's fingers tightened over his own wine cup.

“Indeed?” Shun forced himself to take a sip of rice wine. He had rehearsed what to say with Lan if anyone asked who he was. The familiar words rolled off the tongue. “This slave was a gift from the king. I believe he was sentenced to slavery for a crime that he had committed. It is a surprising coincidence, if he looks like someone you once knew.”

Huiqing’s eyes slid over Shun's shoulder again. It must have been Shun's overactive imagination if the prince's laugh seemed forced. “Yes, of course. You had said that you had a performance planned for us?”

Shun bowed his head. “Yes.” He waved his hand.

The first song Lan played was fast and energetic. The music raced over the qin and danced around the room. Shun couldn’t help himself and tapped his fingers a little to the music underneath the table where he couldn’t be seen. He could imagine Lan yelling at him for being so lowbred. The music stilled, and then blended into something far slower and melodic. It rippled, soft and gentle, and then built up to a crescendo before dying down again. The notes were filled with a heavy longing.

The table applauded when the piece drew to a conclusion. Two of the generals even rose to their feet in their ovation. “Good, so very good,” General Dao, the tallest of Huiqing’s generals, brushed his sleeve across his face as if to wipe away a tear. “It is rare to encounter such a talent, rarer still to find a player in Jin who knows the music of our homeland.”

Prince Huiqing had grown very still. “You are fortunate, General, that your king has gifted you with such a prize. I did not think many men of Jin know the songs of Xu, much less so for a criminal be so skilled in the qin - the instrument of scholars and sages.”

Shun turned his head towards Huiqing. There was something in Huiqing’s tone that he could not quite understand. Shun’s chest tightened. His eyes narrowed as he studied Huiqing. The prince’s face betrayed nothing. Could this prince know Lan from his time in Xu? If so, what had been his relationship with Lan to provoke such a response? “I suppose I am blessed by the gods, to be given such a rare gift, you Highness.”

“Indeed.” Huqing’s smile was thin but he lifted his wine cup to Shun and his generals followed suit. “A toast for your generosity and hospitality, general. May this see the beginning of many fortuitous years with our kingdoms in allegiance.”

By all accounts the dinner had been a success. If the generals had thought it odd that Shun’s dining hall was amongst his books they didn’t show it in word or action. In fact they seemed to have very much enjoyed the night. If they passed favourable reports to the royal court, Shun’s position may be elevated even higher. Lan couldn’t help the smile that passed over his face. There were a few moments when he was sure that Huiqing might have recognised him, but the man’s eyes had slid over his form without resting on it. Perhaps it was the slave’s braid, or perhaps they had both changed in the last years. It was good that Huiqing did not remember.

“Lan!”

Lan nearly dropped the tray he held. He spun around, eyes wide. There in front of him, sword in hand, was the eighteenth prince of the Xu court. The moonlight glanced off his gold hairpin and cast a halo around his head. It was so much like the first time they met - one evening in the backstreets of Kejing - that Lan wanted to laugh. He shook his head against the urge.

“Your highness,” he bowed deeply. It was too difficult to kneel while holding a tray. “ ...do you need direction to the main door?”

“Oh come off it, Cheng Lan. They may have forced your hair into a slave braid but I would know you anywhere. You should know very well the two of us are beyond formalities.” Huiqing grabbed Lan’s shoulders. If it were not for the tray, Lan may very well have been pulled into Huiqing’s embrace. “I left my sword behind as an excuse - I wanted to see you. Are you well? How - how in the names of the eighteen levels of hell did this happen to you?”

Lan straightened slowly. He hesitated. “The news of my father’s trial did not reach the Xu court?”

Huiqing’s shoulders sagged. “I thought it was a vicious rumour and nothing more.” He looked to his left and right and then lowered his voice into a harsh whisper. “Was the king mad? Lord Cheng was the most loyal man to the Jin court I have ever met!”

Lan swallowed and looked away. “Is your royal father well?”

Warm fingers cupped his face and turned his face back towards Huiqing. A thumb brushed past his cheek. “Are you well? This General Wei Shun - how does he treat you?”

How did Shun treat him? Lan thought of the clothes he wore that were far too fine for a mere convict slave and the wooden tablet that still lay hidden in the pocket of his sleeve. “He is a good master, you highness,” He said finally.

Huiqing dropped his hand with a snarl. He paced away. For a moment Lan thought he was going to leave, but he turned on his heel and strode back. “I’ll buy you,” He declared. “I will ask this General for your price. You can come back to Xu with me, where we will be outside Jin’s laws and there, I will be able to grant your freedom.”

The offer hung between the two of them for a moment, full of promise and hope. Freedom. Lan could almost taste it. The court of Xu with its lavishly decorated silks and halls full of scholars and philosophers. The backstreets of Xu where red lanterns guided a traveller’s footsteps to unbeknownst treasures. The mountains with their majestic stillness and hidden valleys. Lan closed his eyes and let out a long breath.

He could easily take Huiqing up on his offer. The civil examinations in all four kingdoms were based on the same Confucian principles. Lan could easily live in Xu, pass the examinations and serve as a Scholar-Official there.

If they explained the possibility of Lan’s freedom to Shun, he doubted that Shun would refuse. What, then, would happen to his general, who he left behind? The Jin court was full of hidden wolves and vipers, ready to strike at their opportunity. Shun might now be a good tactician on the open battlefield but he had always been too naive and trusting. Even if Shun survived the Jin court, what would happen to him once Lan’s freedom eventually reached the ears of the king? What would happen to the fragile alliance between the two kingdoms?

“You would free a convicted felon of Jin once we are in the borders of Xu?” Lan shook his head. “Do not start wars on my account, Prince - it is not worth the lives of the soldiers who pledge their allegiance to you.”

Huiqing scowled. He opened his mouth and then closed it again. “Am I just meant to leave you here? like this?”

“I heard that you have been promised the hand of the ninth prince, Mingyu. How does Aina feel about this?”

“You are trying to change the subject.”

“Have you spoken to her about it?” Lan pressed.

Huiqing glared. “No,” he said. “How would I have spoken to her about it? I have not seen her in over a year. I love her, she loves her freedom. That is all that there is to it.” He scowled. “Last I heard from her, her troupe of Players was approaching the Western border with Xichang, which is where she told me she would rather be than at my side.”

“Prince Huiqing, the prince who refuses to have concubines,” Lan offered a smile, “At least your lack of consorts or a harem of concubines means that this marriage will be smooth.”

“My father is doing this to punish me because I have refused every single noblewoman and man he’s thrust before me.” Huiqing shook his head. “I am happy enough with my lovers, I do not need concubines or a harem.”

The power plays of the royal court of Xu had always danced on a knife’s edge. The crown prince fell in and out of favour with his father. Today, he was the glorious heir to the throne, tomorrow, he was at risk of being stripped of all his titles.The seventh and eighth princes knew this and had long formed their own factions. Huiqing, with his role in the Alliance, was frequently sent away from court. When he was there, Lan had never been sure whether he had noticed the undercurrent of tension or not. “Perhaps he just wants to protect you. Married to a Prince of Jin, your brothers cannot harm you without breaking the treaty.”

Huiqing snorted. “I doubt my father remembers me in that way. It is hard to keep track of twenty-four children.” He turned to Lan. “When you spoke of Yingfen, it reminded me of something... When we first met - you were so blind drunk you did not know north from south, all because of a mistake you had made regarding a mere soldier.” He frowned. “Have you - “

His words were cut off by a sudden clatter of noise. It came from nearby.

Lan shook his head. “You should go, Huiqing. It does not take so long to retrieve a sword.”

Huiqing frowned. He looked behind himself and then reached for his waist. The snap of a silken cord breaking was loud in night’s silence. He deposited a small jade plaque on Lan’s tray.

“I have worn this plaque since I was a babe. My men know it well. My father has given me an estate close to the Jin border as a wedding gift. Find me, if you ever need assistance. If you show any of my men this, they will help you.” He clasped his hands and bowed. “Goodnight, Cheng Lan, and best of fortunes. I hope we meet again in happier times.”

Lan watched Huiqing’s retreating back. He juggled the tray in one hand and slipped the small jade plaque into his other sleeve. One sleeve contained a wooden table, the other a jade plaque. They both suddenly felt far heavier than they should. With a small sigh, he turn to make his way back to the kitchens.

Chapter 13

Chapter Text

By the time Lan returned to Shun's bedroom, Shun had already stripped off the formal outer layers of his hanfu and was in white bedclothes. His hair had been unbound from his topknot and lay loose around his shoulders. The servants had not yet returned Shun's desk to its rightful spot and, rather than being in bed, Shun sat by his desk writing by candlelight.

From the doorway, it was difficult to know whether Shun was writing a letter or report but it was easy to see why Shun’s hand produced such lopsided characters. For a man so skilled in the martial arts his posture was terrible. The way he held the brush was terrible and he was putting so much pressure on his poor wrist.

Lan couldn’t help himself. He made sure the bedroom doors were well closed before he spoke.“You know, the brush is not a spear. The control of the script does not come from the shoulder, it comes from the wrist. You are not fighting with it, you are writing.”

Shun looked up and snorted. He shook his head and rolled his shoulders back. “I don’t know why you didn’t just leave clearing the dishes to the servants. Said I wanted you in my room, or something.””

“You should relax your shoulders. Sit straight, not hunched forward.” Lan walked to the desk and stood next to Shun,. He took one of the brushes on his desk. Drawing out a fresh sheet of paper, he dipped the brush into the fresh ground ink on Shun’s inkstone. “Loosen your wrist. Let the movement of your brush be guided by it. That is how you breathe spirit into your characters.”

Shun stood. His breath was warm against Lan’s neck. “Like this?” Fingers closed around Lan’s own and moved the brush. The strokes were still large and clumsy but somewhat better. If Lan leaned his head back his face would touch Shun’s shoulder. He could feel the warmth of Shun’s body seeping into his back.

“So you can do it, you just don't bother to try.” Behind him, Shun chuckled and Lan felt that low rumble slide down through Shun’s body. They were too close. The air was too thick. Lan ducked his head and moved away from Shun’s arms. He took in a deep breath. Shun’s eyebrows twitched and a question rose in his eyes.

Lan shook his head. He reached into his sleeve and pulled out the wooden tablet and dropped it onto the surface of the desk, still wrapped in its red covering. “I found this.”

“Ah -,” Shun sat and reached for the package but Lan had already snatched it up. With a tug, the red silk came away.

“This is my memorial tablet.” Lan took in another deep breath before concentrating on letting it out again. “Shun - are you mad? Why is this in your study, in the capital?”

Shun shrugged and leaned back in his seat. “I see that you have found the secret drawer.” He linked his fingers behind his head.

“Secret drawer? I was trying to move the table holding the qin, Master, and I bumped it - accidentally. Any of your servants could have discovered it with the same means. This sort of evidence -” Lan shook his head and glared at the man he now called Master. Shun was too naive, trusting, foolish. How had he even managed to ascend the ranks as general? “Master, I am not dead, and it is not worth the risk. I am not worth the risk. ”

“My servants know better than to move that particular piece of furniture without my permission.” Shun met Lan’s eyes with an even stare. “With my duties I am at the capital more often than I am in Yangnan and the tablet is small enough to carry on my person if I do need to be away from even the capital for a long period of time.”

That statement was said in a tone that was so calm, Shun might as well have been discussing the weather. It made the next words catch in Lan’s throat. He looked away. “You should have hated me,” he said. His words were so soft he wasn’t sure Shun had hear them. “I didn’t just reject you, I humiliated you in the most public way possible. You should have been happy when I was convicted and supposedly executed and more so when I became your slave.” Yet Shun had been nothing but kind.

Shun walked up to him. Warm arms enveloped him and Lan’s cheek was crushed up against Shun’s chest. “We were friends before we were lovers.”

Lan shook his head and tried to pull away. “That doesn’t excuse what I said - what I did to you!” He pounded a fist against Shun’s chest. “I was cruel and heartless and you should have never wanted anything to do with me again.”

Shun’s fingers curled against Lan’s cheek, tilting his head up. Lan was forced to meet Shun’s eyes. “That day - did you mean what you said?”

Lan swallowed. His throat felt suddenly tight. “I….”

Shun let out a long sigh. “Your father had given permission for me to learn lessons with you. I could only understand the martial arts. I was too slow to understand the lessons on reading, arithmetic or history. With a skill in martial arts alone, perhaps I would have earned a position as a corporal or even a sergeant in the royal military,” he said. “The military entrance exams have two parts. The first is a physical show of strength and the second is in - writing, analysing and military strategy.”

Lan had not noticed but Shun had undone the tie that kept his slave’s braid in check. His hair now spilled across his shoulders.

“I said that I owe your father a great debt,” Shun said slowly. “There is also someone else to whom I owe a debt - a young boy who wouldn’t believe in the bullying of his brother or the words of his tutors. He refused to believe that the kitchen boy his father forced into their lessons was far too stupid to be taught anything. A young boy who persisted in teaching the kitchen boy even though he proved to be a slow and stupid student, just as his brothers and tutors had predicted - who forced things like the Art of War and weiqi on me even though I was not interested. With everything I owe him, how could I be angry at a simple moment in time? How could I hate him?”

It was a very cold night. An open coal brazier had been placed in the bedroom. The smoke from that must have been what made Lan’s eyes sting. It must have been his stinging eyes that brought about this deep ache that opened inside of him.

“The kitchen boy was not that stupid - he managed to learn to read and write.” Lan said, “It was hardly his fault that he had not received any instruction prior or his fault that his teachers were too impatient to start the basics with him.” He slipped out of Shun’s arms and wiped at his eyes with the back of his sleeve. “Yet, for all the royal court praises him as a great military tactician, I really do think he has moments when he is entirely stupid.”

Lan held up the tablet. The candlelight glanced off the strokes of the two characters that outlined his name. Had Shun sat by candlelight, alone and hidden, as he had carved them? Lan closed his eyes for a moment and let out another long breath. Then, he drew back his hand and tossed the tablet into the brazier.

“No - “ Shun started forward, but it was too late. Greedy flames had risen up and were already lapping at the side of the wood. Lan watched them consume the tablet until it was just another blackened piece of charcoal.

“Wrapping the memorial tablet of a person who is still alive is to wish them a long and healthy life.” When Lan turned to face Shun, his hands were clenched.

“I am alive, Master,” Lan said. He stepped forward and closed a hand over Shun’s fist. “It would be good if we both stayed that way. There is no need to take that risk anymore.” He forced a small smile and pressed a hand against Shun’s chest. “Besides, I don’t need a silly red handkerchief to look after my life. Aren’t you my Master?”

Shun looked up at him then. It must have been a trick of the light because it could not possibly be wetness that Lan was seeing in Shun’s eyes. Lan closed his eyes again and let himself lean forward. He felt the rough stubble on Shun’s skin as his lips brushed across his cheek.

“You know that you cannot win this Competition.” Lan said.

Despite how late the dinner party with the honored guests from Xu had drawn into the night Shun still refused to forget his training the next morning. The wan morning sun glanced off the sweat that beaded across the top of Shun’s chest. Lan wrapped Shun’s fur cloak tighter around himself. He had finished his exercises for the morning but watching Shun continue his training was half the fun. In the empty courtyard framed by flowering plum trees, Shun moved with such grace and fluidity it seemed that the spear he held was simply an extension of his body rather than something external to it.

Shun stopped in his movements, spear poised and one leg outstretched as if about to leap forward. If Lan had to hold a position like that his muscles would scream protest and his whole body would be shaking. Shun stood statue still, as if such things were effortless.

“With the sons of both of the Pan and the Mao households in the Competition?”

Shun leapt. A flash of light in the sun was all that could be seen of the tip of his spear. The shaft of the spear twisted and writhed in the air. Shun grunted as he pushed it forward again, pulled back and pointed downwards - the end position of that particular drill set. “I have seen both of them train. I do not think they will be that hard to beat.” He winked. “Are you going to give me a token for good luck?”

Lan choked. “I don’t meant that.” He shook his head, “They are the sons of two men who still have royal enough blood that their fathers are allowed to wear a four claw dragon in court. Besides, Lord Pan has always been heavily opposed to the idea that the civil and military examinations are open to all citizens, regardless of class.”

“So if I beat them in front of a public audience I would make their entire household lose face and I would lose the favour of two of the most important military families in court. Not that the Pan family would give favour to someone peasant born.” Shun rolled his eyes. The spear was slotted into its rightful place. “I thought you said that I wasn’t stupid last night?”

It was Lan’s turn to roll his eyes. “I remember saying that you had moments when you were an entirely stupid idiot,” he retorted with a grin. His face sobered as he watched Shun pick up a rag to wipe the sweat away. “You need to be careful, Master. You cannot throw the fight too early, either - it needs to be believable.”

“Relax - I know what it is I am doing. I have a plan.”

“Oh?”

“You,” Shun pointed to Lan, “-don’t need to look so skeptical.” Lan hid a smile. “I do know what it is I am doing with these sorts of things. The fight - ” He grunted as he moved into the second half of the drill set. The muscles across his back rippled with every move. “It is broken up into three stages: the heats, the quarter and semi-finals and finally, the grand final. I can best who I want during the heats as everyone must first fight three rounds. I will bow out in the semi-finals, I think. Enough to be respectable but not enough to step on anyone’s toes.”

Lan nodded. He grinned. “That sounds surprisingly reasonable, Master.”

“Oh, you.” Shun picked up his woolen outer jacket, balled it in his fist and tossed it at Lan. Lan ducked.

Behind Lan, the bedroom doors were open. Next to the doors was a side table that held a single porcelain vase. The jacket shouldn’t have been able to fly through the bedroom doors and certainly should not have been able to knock anything over even if it did.

As the piece of clothing flew past Lan’s head it spread out. A sudden icy gust of wind caught it, sending it up in the air, arms outstretched like a bird. The jacket floated through the bedroom doors and landed on the vase. Part of the material caught the fanned lip of the vase before it slid down. Lan and Shun watched as the jacket took the vase with it. It clashed as it hit the ground.h. Pieces of splintered white porcelain flew.

For a moment, neither man said a word. Then, Lan turned to Shun. “This - you must be careful, Master.”

Shun’s eyes slid over Lan’s face and then back to the mess that was on his bedroom floor. “It is just an accident, Lan - just a vase. I had never thought you to be one to be superstitious.” The corner of his lip crooked up.

Lan stiffened. He bowed. “I will find a pan to clean this up, Master,” he said.

Shun’s fingers caught Lan’s hand as he turned to leave. “I will be careful,” He said, giving Lan’s fingers a light squeeze. “I promise. The Competition will be open to all audiences. If you are not going to give me a token for good luck, will you at least come and watch?”

Lan’s shoulder sagged. How could he stay angry when Shun looked at him like that and used that particularly imploring tone of voice? He couldn’t help a small half smile. “I will be there, if you give me permission, Master,” he said with another bow. The smile morphed into a grin when he met Shun’s eyes. “Now, Master, I must leave and clean this up before the maids come and are absolutely horrified at the mess we have made.”

It had been fast work for the fighting ring to be constructed in the main square within a few short weeks. It was raised on wooden beams. A barrier painted in cherry red surrounded it - to attempt to prevent anyone being unwittingly flung off to the side. From where he stood, Lan could see two sets of stairs, ten steps in each that lead to opposite sides of the ring for the competitors. Covered platforms surrounded the ring on three sides. To the right and the left sat the nobles and officials of rank. Behind the ring, the royal dais was raised higher than the other two platforms. If Lan craned his head he could see a the flash of the gold yellow brocade that denoted the emperor. It was more than likely that Huiqing and his party would be there too.

The commoners stood on the ground at the front of the platform. A temporary fence had been erected to stop anyone from trying to get too close and there were plenty of guards clad in black armor - the uniform of the city guard - standing at attention in case anyone thought to jump the fence. It was not a terrible view of the action although the height of the platform itself would obscure some of it. The royal dais was at the back of the ring, directly opposite the area where the common people would stand.

Lan never could understand why grown men felt the need to posture and strut like roosters looking for a fight in these sorts of Competitions. Still, he had promised Shun his presence at each of his fights and here he was. It was an icily cold day and Lan had made sure a fur cloak was wrapped around his head and shoulders. Pressed against the back of the crowd with the other servants and slaves, he doubted that he would be noticed by anyone.

The first fights of the week had been uneventful. There were more competitors than Lan expected. Word in the crowd was that there was a bag of gold for the winner. Still, there was no doubt that Shun would win against whoever he was drawn. Today was the semi-final: Shun’s last fight. Lan hoped that it would be quick. Perhaps then they would be able to leave the capital again and go back to Yangnan.

Shun had been matched with Pan Guo, the eldest son of the esteemed Pan family. He was the third generation of general that the family had produced. As the Commander of the Palace Guard, he was only entitled to wear the Mandarin Square of the Tiger and was, therefore, technically a least one rank below Shun’s Lion. However, General Pan Guo’s grandfather had been the younger brother to the then king. There was still enough royal blood present in his father that Lord Pang was permitted to wear clothing bearing the four clawed dragon. With the importance of face and guanxi - the complex web of influence within the court - winning such a public fight would not afford Shun any advantage.

The two fighters bowed to each other. As soon as the drum had struck for them to begin, Guo lunged towards Shun. He was built as solid as a mountain and stood half a head taller than even Shun. His weight and bulk, however, carried a distinct disadvantage. As Shun dodged, Guo stumbled forwards, fueled on by his own momentum. He wasted two steps before he turned to meet Shun’s spear with his sword. Metal met metal with a clash before the fighters stepped back and circled each other again.

Lan realised he was holding his breath. He shook his head to clear it. There was nothing to worry about. This was the situation where Shun would be in his element.

Shun was the one to make the first move this time. He lunged forward and Guo parried the move, forcing Shun back two steps. Shun pulled his spear back and then jabbed it forward, aiming for the man’s thigh. Guo had to sidestep and swing his sword around low to push away Shun’s attack. Lan could not see the fighter’s expression from here but he could well imagine Shun’s smirk. His fingers curled into fists. Hurry up, Shun - and be done with it!

Guo twisted to the side suddenly. His sword sang as it slashed through the air, narrowly blocked by the shaft of Shun’s spear. Guo’s attack had left him open on his left side. Shun should have countered the attack by pushing his spear into the weakness in Guo’s man’s form.

Shun, instead stepped another two paces back as if he had not seen the obvious weakness. Guo, though, had anticipated an attack and he swung his sword to the left. With nothing to block, though, it left him lurching. As Shun’s spear came forward, the tip of it glanced against Guo’s left knee. Too heavy and trapped in his own momentum, Guo stumbled to the side and disappeared from the view of the crowd below. There was a sickening crunch.

Lan’s heart stopped.

“My son!” Lord Pan jumped up and pointed at the platform. “He has injured my son. This was not a fair fight. General Shun had clearly intended to maim him. Arrest him!”

Lan tried to push forward and pry past the wall of bodies pressed in front of him. No! This could not possibly be happening. Even if Pan Guo had sustained some sort of injury this was a martial arts competition. To insist on an arrest was ridiculous. He opened his mouth to speak - but it was already too late. Black armoured guards rushed towards the top of the platform.

Lan could not see Shun anymore.

Chapter 14

Chapter Text

The world seemed to move in slow motion. The thunderous stamp of feet echoed in Shun’s ears. Black guards stormed up the stairways.

Lan!

Shun spun around, eyes searching in the crowd wildly for Lan. Pan Guo lay at his feet. His face was white and sweat beaded his brow. His arm lay beneath him, bent at the shoulder in an unnatural angle.

Where was Lan? Shun’s eyes caught sight of a flicker of movement at the edge of the crowd. Lan’s head, bent down, trying to push forward through the crowd. No. Lan needed to get out of here - and quickly.

Shun stepped forward towards the crowd.

Lord Pan yelled out something. The words were indecipherable. Black surrounded him. Shun ducked, turned, blocked and weaved but there were too many of them. Hands grabbed his arms. He struggled. How was he going to signal to Lan to get away - get out? He managed to pull one arm free but another hand grabbed it and twisted it behind him. A solid kick force Shun to his knees. Suddenly, he was looking at the points of more than a dozen swords all directed at him.

“Stop.”

Shun’s head shot up in surprise. The Grand Duke stood. The twin silver dragons that were embroidered into the bell shaped sleeves of his formal outer robe rippled in the breeze. He leaned over the railing of the royal platform.

“Lord Pan - is this a farce?” The Grand Duke’s words were slow and deliberate. His eyes slid over the sight in the ring as if the scene was no more than a pond full of lilies on a summer day. “In a fighting competition such as this, there are always risks - as you well know.”

Lord Pan’s face flushed a bright red. He pointed to Shun. Even from this distance, Shun could see that the man’s entire body was shaking.

“He did this on purpose, your esteemed Grace. He has maimed my son!”

Next to him, Pan Guo gave a low groan and rose to his knees. His good arm clutched uselessly at the other that dangled from his shoulder. It looked as if it had been torn out of its socket. He opened his mouth as if to say something then bit his lip and looked away from Shun.

“I am sorry to General Pan and your lordship for the injury caused but it was not intentional.” Shun tried to keep his tone as even as possible.

“Likely story, look at my son, my lord. The peasant tripped him!”

Shun could not help the flare of irritation that rose up within him. He rose up on one knee but the sensation of cold steel against his neck forced him back down. He grit his teeth and concentrated on a spot in the floor in front of him. Glaring at Lord Pan would not help his situation.

Behind him, Pan Guo groaned again.

“General Pan needs to see the palace healers.” The king had risen to stand next to his uncle. He waved a hand. Two of the black guards moved to help Guo to his feet. Shun watched them walk off the fighting platform from the corner of his eye.

“Your majesty, your grace and Lord Pan, I swear that the injury caused was not intentional.” Shun whispered a prayer to the ancestors under his breath. “If you do think that such an intention was there, I would welcome that you do the same injury to me as has happened to your son.”

Lord Pan turned and started towards the stairs that would taken him to the fighting platform. For a moment Shun was sure that he was going to make good of Shun’s offer - and the rest of the royal court was going to watch. Then, the Grand Duke spoke again.

“Come, now, there is no need for such barbaric measures,” He said, “This is meant to be a week of entertainment for our guests. This is not entertainment. Lord Pan, the royal court was a witness to your son’s injury. I did not see our good General trip him - and our majesty did not either.”

Lord Pan stood still. “So, there will be no retribution for my son’s injury?”

This time, it was the king who spoke. “I know that General Wei here will not be so foolish to want to continue on in the Competition. He is from now, disqualified. As for punishment…” King Ming Wang turned to his uncle.

“General Pan needs to be excused from his duties to the palace guard, of course, to recover from this grievous injury. General Shun was given a rest break from his duties. I believe it is only fair that this be reduced and he take over General Pan’s duties.”

Shun kowtowed. With Lord Pan now baying for blood this was as good an outcome as any. As he rose back onto his knees, a sense of unease settled into the pit of his stomach. Out of all the court he had not expected the Grand Duke’s assistance in this sort of matter, especially with their most recent conversation. This was a most unusual surprise.

“Of course, the Commander of the palace guard always stays within apartments in the Outer Palace, close to the barracks of the men he is leading. I expect that you will want to move in, good General.” The Grand Duke smiled. “You should bring that slave of yours with you.”

****

Lan waited at the corner of the main square in front of a potter’s shop. It was their arranged meeting place for all the fights in the Competition so far. He bunched his fists in his sleeves and tried to resist the urge to pace. Both Shun and General Pan had walking off the fighting ring at least an hour ago. What was taking Shun so long?

From the corner of his eye, Lan saw a flicker of movement. Shun - in the deep brown hanfu he had worn for the Competition, his hair bound into a topknot with a bronze hairpin. Lan took three step forwards - then remembered that eyes were watching. He could not just run to Shun and start checking him for injuries.

That did not stop him from crossing the square at a brisk pace. If his bow to his master was shorter than usual, and if he did not wait for Shun’s permission to rise, Shun did not mention it. Lan stepped close to Shun then, fingers curling on the rough wool of the other’s outer robe.

Suddenly, he didn’t know what to say. He wanted to bury his head against Shun’s chest but also to yell at Shun for being such an idiot. To invite injury the way that he had…

Shun’s fingers skimmed down his cheek. Lan looked up at Shun. “How is General Pan?”

“A dislocated shoulder,” Shun said. “He will be in pain for a few days and it will take a few weeks for a full recovery.”

Lan let out a breath. His shoulders sagged. “At least it was not a permanent injury.”

“No, not as bad as it could have been,” Shun murmured softly.

Lan’s fingers tightened. He remembered what the consequences were. He could not quite catch his breath. “It could have been much worse,” He agreed, the words whispered into Shun’s chest. He forced himself to take a step back, staring at Shun’s face. “Are - are you okay?”

“The Grand Duke stopped them before any damage could be done.” Shun said with a shrug. “I’m fine. It was quite fortunate really, although I suppose now I owe him a debt.” He frowned.

A bitter taste rose in the back of Lan’s throat. “It is a demotion,” He said. The words were so soft, he was not sure if Shun had heard it. Shun had risen in the ranks of the military of his own merit. He had earned the right to wear the square of the Lion. The captain of the palace guard although given the title ‘general’ could only wear the rank of the Tiger. It wasn’t just a demotion, it was an insult.

“It is,” Shun agreed. He shrugged again. “It is better than some alternatives though,” he said. A frown slipped back on his face again though as he turned to regard Lan. “We will have to move into the palace.”

Yes - they would. Lan felt nauseous. He forced a smile onto his face. “I have heard that the apartments for the commander of the Palace Guard are quite luxurious, master,” he said, then lowered his voice. “You might not want to move back out after General Pan recovers.”

That prompted a snort of a laugh from Shun. “Perhaps,” He said. His fingers slipped through Lan’s and gave a light squeeze. “Will - will you be alright? He specifically asked that you move in with me.”

Lan stiffened and nodded. He tried to keep his voice as light as he could. “It is not the first time I have live in the palace, master,” He said. “I will be fine.” It was a curious request to ask that Shun bring his slave with him. Did the Grand Duke suspect that Shun did not hate him as much as he should

Shun’s eyes met his and Lan had to tear his gaze away, He could still feel the weight of the other’s eyes on his neck. “Alright,” Shun said softly, next to him. “We will have to be much more formal in the palace but of course, you know that.”

Lan’s lip twitched at that statement. Shun wasn’t entirely stupid all of the time. He stood on his tip toes so he could murmur the next words into Shun’s ear. “Yes - I am afraid you will have to ‘peel me off the floor’ a little more often now, master.”

***

It was barely three days later and somehow, General Pan had managed to clear out his apartments even with his injury. Lan and Shun were moved into the palace. Their things had been dropped off at the apartments but it was up to Lan to make sure everything was unpacked and in its rightful place in his master’s absence. Shun had been assigned two additional maids and manservants to look after his room but he did not want them going through his private things. With the sort of secrets that Shun’s furniture had held so far, Lan could not help but wonder if there were other secrets his general was hiding.

Lan wasn’t sure if General Pan had been a little bit sloppy and forgetful with his own packing or if someone at the palace had decided to give the good General a welcoming gift into his new apartment. He found a trunk in the room that contained a series of ivory phalluses of increasing proportions - the biggest almost the thickness of his wrist. There was also a tiny bottle of yanghuo oil and two sets of leather cuffs connected by a solid steel chain. A coiled whip completed the set.

There was once a time Lan would have found such a thing fascinating. Now, he shuddered and slammed the lid back on the box as soon as he opened it. The buckles were pulled tight and he kicked it under the bed before he allowed himself to breath again. Shun - it had always been Lan who had been more interested in experimenting when they were younger. After that disastrous night, Shun had not moved to touch him again. They were no longer lovers. He didn’t think Shun would miss it.

There were some benefits to residing in rooms in the outer palace. The meals came from the palace kitchens, from the same cooks that prepared food for the king. The sky was already turning hues of purple and orange. Lan had no doubt Shun would be back soon. It might be nice to surprise him with dinner served and ready then to wait for one of the palace servants to bring it.

Lan walked down the open hallways, head bowed and tried to avoid meeting anyone who looked as if they were important. Members of the palace staff were lighting the lanterns that lit the paths and the courtyards at night. Shun like to buy Lan things in dark navy blue - the colour of the Scholar class - but the hanfu he wore that day was dyed a forest green. Coincidentally, it was the same colour of the livery of the palace servants.

Lan rounded the corner. He could smell the palace kitchens nearby. There was a flicker of movement in the corner of his eye and he ducked into the shadows. Two men in deep green hanfu, embroidered with gold and wearing the tall pointed black caps that proclaimed them high ranking palace eunuchs, walked past. Only maids and eunuchs served in the inner palace where the queen and the rest of the king’s consorts and concubines lived. Their voices drifted past.

“Consort Yue grows larger by the day. The palace physicians visit her every second day now. The way her abdomen swells, low and full, they say indicates that the babe is likely a son.”

“When is she due?”

“The end of the month, although truth be told, the child could come any day now.”

Lan let out the breath he had been holding and moved out again into the main walkway. This would be good news for the king. King Ming Wang had wed his queen and his first concubine when he was twelve. It was now eleven years later and still there was no son to be an heir. It was no surprise that servants as far as Yangnan whispered about unnatural things as the loss of the Mandate of Heaven. A son and an heir would do much to reassure the people.

“Oi! Ah Po!” A hand grabbed his shoulder and Lan was spun around. His eyes widened as he took in the sight of the older maid who had stopped him.

“You’re early - but that’s alright. The cook’s finished with your prince’s dinner.” A wooden handled box was thrust into his hands. “Go - it is a pity enough that the fifth prince has been sentenced to house arrest just for speaking out against injustice. You don’t need to go and serve him cold dinner either.”

Lan pushed the box back into the maid’s hand. This was a mistake. Who was this Ah Po she thought he was? He had to go and pick up food for his own master. “I - ”

Before he could even spit out his sentence, the maid’s hand came down over his head. Lan was cuffed so hard his ears rang.

“Don’t be giving me any cheek Ah Po. Go - you know where he is - in his apartments in the western wing.”

This time Lan swallowed down his objection. There were always palace servants who came to bring food to Shun’s apartments. This woman was crazy and obviously intent on her task. He bowed his head again. “Yes, of course lady. I will hurry.”

All the king’s brothers had apartments in the western wing of the palace as well as their own manors in the city. It was not a surprise that the king had chosen to imprison his brother here rather than outside where things would be much more difficult to control. The Fifth Prince Mingsong’s rooms were rather easy to find. Two pairs of black clad guards stood at the entrance. Lan shuffled his feet and bowed, holding up the wooden basket and was waved inside with an impatient humph.

The doors of the entrance to the prince’s apartment gave way to a stone paved courtyard. In the center of it, a miniature pine tree grew in its shallow pan. Its branches were twisted around slim copper wires to give it the appearance of a fan. A series of five small wooden straw stuffed boxes lined one wall. Lan could hear soft coos emerge from them. Pigeons?

“Ah Po - you are early.”

Lan turned, slid on to his knees and held the box of food up with both hands. A knuckle slid under his chin and tilted his face up. Prince Mingsong’s forehead was marred with a frown. “You - you’re not Ah Po.”

Lan felt his cheeks burn. “My name is - “

“-Chen Lan!” Prince Mingsong’s expression shifted. He was suddenly beaming down at him with the recollection. “I remember you! I was at the final day of your examinations.”

Although Mingsong was the fifth prince, his age was only a year younger than the king. With a large harem of concubines in the inner palace, it was not uncommon for a number of royal siblings to be of similar age. Mingsong had the family’s pale features and willowy build but his face was round and in the darkness resembled almost the shape of the full moon.

“My uncle didn’t like your argument for schools for all the people - including the peasants - so that everyone would have an equal opportunity to sit the civil examinations . I thought it was one of the most fascinating policies to be proposed of the day. It is said that Confucius himself had students from every single social class.”

Lan kowtowed, not knowing how to respond to those words. No Scholar-Official tried to think too much about their civil examinations once they were passed and over with. Lan vaguely remembered two young boys sitting on either side of the Grand Duke when he came to present his arguments for his own policies. One of them had been the then thirteen year old King Ming Wang. The other boy had looked around the same age and was dressed in blue with gold dragons.

“What am I doing - come, stand up and let’s get out of the cold.” The fifth prince’s hand closed around his elbow and Lan was pulled to his feet.

A pine tree motif seemed to be the theme of Prince Mingsong’s apartments. Two more miniature pines sat near the doorway into the courtyard and the walls were decorated with scroll paintings of pines.

Mingsong waved Lan to put the food on the table and then laughed when he saw Lan’s train of sight.

“The second character in my name, 松 song, refers to the pine tree. The pine tree is meant to represent self discipline and steadfastness. I think was those qualities that my father had in mind when he named me. What it actually meant though, was that, that any present I ever received would follow a theme.”

Lan bowed. “Your father named you well, your highness.” The pine tree also represented longevity. Lan wondered if Mingsong would be able to achieve at all that part of what his name had promised him.

Mingsong shrugged. “I never really knew my royal father.” He tilted his head as he regarded Lan. “I am sorry for what happened to yours. I hear, though, that General Wei is a good man.” It seemed Mingsong wanted to say something more but he closed his mouth and turned away.

How was Lan meant to answer that? To admit Shun’s kindness may as well be betraying the man. “Thank you, your highness. I know I also have my crimes to serve.”

There was a flash of white outside the door of the apartments. A pigeon flew out of the darkening sky to land on the row of nesting boxes.

“You keep pigeons, your highness?”

Mingsong nodded. “Yes. My mother kept pigeons as pets in her home village before she was sent to try her luck in the capital when my father was crowned king. She continued to keep them as pets when I was growing up here with my younger brother. I suppose I inherited the habit. They can be affectionate creatures and are dear to my heart. I am fortunate that my brother indulges me and allows me to keep them despite my crime.”

Lan bit his tongue against the protest that welled up in his throat. What crime? “Keeping pigeons as pets in Xu is also common practice. Was your highness’ mother’s village from the border? I have seen some pigeons in Xu trained to bear messages. They are remarkable creatures.”

Was it Lan’s imagination or did Mingsong’s mouth grow suddenly tight? The prince’s smile seemed forced. “Yes, they are. My mother was born in Dongfeng. Close to Xu, yes, but definitely well within our borders,” he shook his head. “I have never heard of this practice of training birds as messengers but I do not doubt that they have an ability to do so. Mine are just mere pets, As I have said, I am fortunate that my brother is kind enough to allow me to continue to keep them.”

Lan turned to the prince and then looked away. Xu’s messenger birds were quite well known, even in Jin. How could the prince not have heard of them at all?

“I understand that your brother is soon to have the fortune of another child. The court, I am sure, is hoping for a son.”

Mingsong nodded. Lan had to tilt his head to catch the next words out of his mouth. It was as if they were muttered under the prince’s breath. “Perhaps the court is hoping so, but I hope for the child’s sake that it is not a son.” Lan blinked at the words. What? Surely - surely that second line was just his imagination?

Mingsong was smiling again as he turned back to him. “Cheng Lan - I have kept you long enough. The stars are out. Thank you for the food - I am sure the good General is missing you.”

The words were clearly a dismissal. Lan bowed again and moved to leave. Mingsong walked out into the courtyard behind him to attend to his pigeons. In the darkness, Lan could only see the outline of the bird but it seemed that one leg looked bigger than the other.

I hope for the child’s sake that it is not a son.

Lan had heard the rumours of course. They had circulated even four years ago. The king had four sons born to him so far and not one lived to see his second summer. It was enough that even the people of Yangnan thought that Heaven’s hand was playing a part. Lan shivered slightly as the doors to the prince’s apartment closed behind him. What was the meaning behind the Fifth Prince’s words?

Chapter 15

Chapter Text

Petals from the flowering plum trees drifted down in Lan’s path as he navigated his way past the maze of open courtyards and raised walkways of the palace. In the dim glow of the lanterns and the silver rays of the moon, they appeared almost white. It was strange that such a delicate flower would bloom and thrive in the harsh cold of late Winter and early Spring, disappearing before the true warmth of the season arrived. He brushed a few petals idly from his hair as he walked past a freestanding, arched, doorway through to the first courtyard of the Northern Wing where Shun and he now resided.

An arm grabbed him from the darkness and slammed Lan’s back against the wall. He gasped, winded.

“Well, what have we here?”

Lan shuddered as soon as the voice reached his ears. His mouth went dry. He Jinli. He was a third tier official and worked within the Ministry of Justice. He had been the Ministry’s representative at Lan’s civil examinations and the most vocally opposed to every policy Lan and proposed. The last time Lan saw him, it was from the corner of his eye as he laid face down on a bed, wrists bound behind him, legs pulled obscenely wide, rutting into the pillow underneath himself. Such was the effect of the yanghuo oil.

“Not so opinionated are you now, Cheng Lan? I always knew you were a co*ck hungry slu*t.”

Lan had begged for his f*cking that day.

Lan didn’t need to look up to see the familiar thready silver goatee and the hard, beady, eyes. He could feel hot breath on the nape of his neck. He tried to twist away but a wiry fingers twisted around his wrist and held him tight. A knee slid between his legs.

“Young Cheng Lan, wandering around the palace without his master?” He Jinli’s lips curled into a smirk. “Not giving you enough satisfaction, slave?”

Once, Lan would have shaken like a leaf and allowed He Li to do whatever it was that he wanted to do. Now, he tugged at the man’s grip. “Let me go, sir,” he said, trying to keep his voice from shaking. Shun outranked Official He but it would not do to make another enemy in the royal court. “My master is expecting me in his apartments and he wishes that I keep myself for him.”

A snort. “Your master doesn’t need to know what we do in the shadows, boy.” Another shudder moved through Lan’s body as teeth grazed his earlobe. Official He’s breath rasped in his ears. “I don’t even know why the Grand Duke even thought to gift you to the peasant -general. You were much better serving your time amongst the palace whor*s.”

Lips attempted to press down on his. Lan turned his face to the side and they caught the edge of his jaw. A hand grabbed his braid and gave it a tug. Sharp pain lanced through his skull. Lan closed his eyes. He tried to pull against the grip again.

“ Sir , my master will not be happy if he is to find us like this.”

Fingers curled around his jaw. Nails dug into the skin of his cheek. Lan found his head tilted up until he was forced to meet He Li’s gaze.

“What do I care about the opinion of a peasant-born general? He may be in the king’s good graces today but history has taught us well of men who look too far beyond their betters.”

Lan stiffened. “He is a man who is loyal and has sacrificed much for the throne,” he hissed.

The crack of He Li’s palm as it struck Lan’s cheek rang in his ears for a second before pain blossomed.

“What does a traitor like you know about loyalty and sacrifice?”

Lan could taste blood. It was an effort not to spit it in the face of the other man.

“Official, may I ask what you are doing with my slave in the shadows?”

Shun . Relief flooded through Lan so fast he felt his knees go weak. Lan’s fingers scrabbled against the wall, half falling forward as Official He stepped away from him to bow to Shun.

“Ah - my greetings, General,” Oil dripped from his smile. “Your slave - I was just walking along and he came up to me. Dirty little whor* couldn’t control himself.”

That was not true. Lan pushed himself against the wall, wiping an arm against his face. The corner of his mouth stung. “Master - “ He glanced at the official and back at Shun before clenching his fists and gritting his teeth. He would have to explain this to Shun later.

“Did he hit his face against the back of your hand, too?” Shun’s voice was ice cold. “I do not like seeing my property damaged without my permission.” His fingers gently closed around Lan’s wrist and Lan didn’ need the tug. He melted into Shun’s side.

“ General .” Official He bowed again. The sneer on his face was unmistakable, even in the darkness. “I do apologise. This slave has become quite unruly since I last knew him - I was just trying to teach him some manners.” His eyes slid from Shun’s face to Lan’s and back to Shun’s. “Of course, I understand that you will have your own methods for discipline. I just know that our Grand Duke invested much time in this slave - it would be a pity if he heard that his methods were gone to waste.”

If Shun noticed that Lan’s grip on his hand suddenly turned knuckle white he did not show it. “Thank you, Official. Rest assured I will take my pleasure in disciplining my slave how I see fit. I wish you a good day.”

Lan sucked in a breath and forced his hands to loosen. He took a step away from Shun. Shun managed a slight bow, then spun on his heel. “ Lan .”

“Yes master.” Lan ducked his head and trotted after Shun. He could see Official He’s scowl as he turned away.

As soon as the doors were safely closed Lan fell to his knees, forehead pressed to the ground in a deep kowtow. His heart was still hammering in his ears. “Thank you, master.”

“Oh for heavens - ” There was a heavy sigh and then hands clasped Lan’s elbows and pulled him to his feet. A cool, wet cloth was pressed against his cut lip. Lan raised his eyes to look at Shun. Exasperation was painted across the other man’s features. “The doors are closed and the servants are gone - do you have to do this, Lan?”

Lans fingers curled around the sleeve of Shun’s robe. “I - I didn’t master -”

“Of course you didn’t go around seeking him. You told me that I wasn’t entirely stupid. Why the hell do you think that I would believe someone like him?” Shun rubbed a hand across his face. “Now - do I need to hit something? Make it sound like I am punishing you properly?”

Lan’s lip twitched. He winced as it stung and Shun’s hand was on his cheek immediately.

“What else did he do to you?” He patted hands down Lan’s arms. “Did he hurt you anywhere else?”

“Nothing. It was just - ” Lan shook his head. There were details that Shun did not need to know about. “You came just in time.”

Shun stared at Lan for a few heartbeats. Lan forced himself to hold the other man’s gaze. He tried not to blink. “I think you may have another enemy in the court, master.”

Finally, Shun looked away. Lan let out a tiny breath of relief. The flickering candlelight outlined Shun’s profile. Shun drew a hand across his face and sighed.

“I would not want such a man as my friend, anyway.”

Lan frowned. Official He had served in his position for almost as long as Lan’s father had served in the court of Xu. He would be knowledgeable and have connections. He would be a strong ally to have. An image of the leering man flashed into Lan’s face again. He shuddered. He should not feel so relieved that Shun did not want to be friends.

“You need more allies.” Lan said softly. It was the truth, after all. “How many of these men could you call friend? When they all team against you during the royal court - “

Shun whirled around. “He hurt you, Lan.” His eyes blazed. Lan took a step back. His heart was hammering again. Shun had never been so angry before - or at least the anger had never been directed towards him.

“I am not saying - not saying that you should be friends with him,” he said slowly. “But you need more friends in this place.”

“I - ” Shun turned away. Lan could see the other man’s shoulders slump and when he turned around again he simply looked tired. “A few weeks until Pan Guo recovers and then I will ask the King and Grand Duke if we can return to Yangnan,” he promised. “Spring is a lovely time there and I think mother wants to purchase some chickens for the household.”

It wasn’t what Lan meant. For a brief moment, Lan wondered if his family truly had done Shun a favour - training him in martial arts and thrusting him into a position such as this. The candlelight glanced sharply off Shun’s eyes which were always so bright and round and earnest. Still, there was no changing the past now.

“We should eat.” Shun moved to sit at the table. It was only set for one. A cushion had been tossed on the floor next to Shun’s seat. Lan lowered himself to his knees on top of it. Lan could see the other man’s jaw tighten as soon as he did so. He put a hand on Shun’s knee.

“We’re in the palace now. You know the walls themselves have eyes and ears.”

Shun gave a brief jerk of his head. He handed down a bowl filled with rice and a mix of meat and vegetables and a pair of chopsticks. “You eat first, then.”

Lan huffed a snort of laughter. “You know it’s not meant to be like -”

“I am meant to be the master here, right?” Shun raised an eyebrow. “Aren’t you meant to do things the way I want?”

Lan rolled his eyes and took the bowl from him. “What do you know about Prince Mingsong?”

“What do you mean?”

When Lan had left for Xu, he had just reached his eighteenth winter and Prince Mingsong had been a child of twelve. All eyes had been on the young King Ming Wang. Other than a vague memory of a young boy at his examinations, Lan could remember little of the fifth prince. Now he was a man of twenty two summers. “You said that he was sentenced for house arrest for speaking up for the peasants?”

Shun grunted. “He was one of the few who would speak against the King’s...more controversial ideas,” he said, “I remember...he was posted to the east border when he came of age. I have heard that he is a good and honorable man in battle - as can be seen by his actions in the royal court - but I never served with him. Why are you interested in him now?”

Lan it ok a bite of his food, chewed and swallowed. “His mother, Consort Mu, came from a village near the borders of Xu. She was said to keep pet birds. I hear that he had taken on his mother’s hobby?”

Shun shrugged, “What do I know about these sorts of things?” Lan handed up the bowl when he had eaten. Shun filled it with more rice but he didn’t move to eat. “Lan - you should know this better than me. The Western Wing of the palace is a dangerous place. We only need to be here for a short period of time. There is no need to get mixed up in the affairs of princes.”

That statement was so incredibly short sighted. Lan laid his head against Shun’s thigh. He looked up at the other man for a long moment. Shun’s jaw was still tight and clenched and tension thrummed down the other man’s neck and through his shoulders. He sighed and patted Shun’s leg. “I hope that we can just survive these few weeks, then, and be able to return to your household in Yangnan,’ he said.

The problem was - how entangled had the two of them accidentally become in the affairs of the palace court already?

It was the first day of the second month when the party from Xu left the capital. It was well known that Prince Ming-yu had been a sickly child, prone to whatever plague or infection that lingered in the palace. Even though the weather had warmed a little, he rode in a carriage where the walls were thickly padded with wool and silk in an attempt to insulate against the cold. Although the marriage ceremony between Prince Huiqing and Prince Ming-yu would happen only when they reached Kejing, Xu’s capital, the carriage that Prince Ming-yu rode in was painted a bright wedding red with golden curtains embroidered with the character 囍, or double happiness.

It was at the King’s insistence that all the generals and first and second tier Scholar Officials be gathered at the palace’s entrance. Shun stood straight, his helmet, still with its two peaco*ck feathers tucked under one arm, and tried not to blink as the morning sun stung his eyes. Huiqing rode past. He was still dressed in thick wool in the chilly early Spring air, but also wore a red silk sash across his chest - denoting him as one of the two be wed. As he passed Shun, their eyes met. Shun’s brow furrowed. Huiqing’s back was ramrod straight. His eyes were hard. There was something unreadable in the prince’s stare. Then, the sun’s piercing rays glanced off Huiqing’s golden mao cap and Shun was forced to look away. He clenched his teeth. What was there between Huiqing and Lan? Had Lan been in love with Huiqing? Shun wasn’t sure if he wanted to know the answer.

“We wish you all the happiness for all your days.” King Ming Wang himself had come - with the Grand Duke ever present by his side.

Huiqing bowed as low as he could on his horse without falling off it. “Thank you, Your Majesty. I wish the kingdom of Jin prosperity and good fortune for thousands of years to come.”

With a crack and a bang, firecrackers exploded as the party left. A thin haze of smoke filled the air.

Perhaps it was because of all the noise that no one noticed it at first. Shun lifted his head up. Under all pops and crackles there was another sound. The low clang of the palace bell.

The palace bell only rang for members of the royal family - and then only for births or deaths. The other officials around him had also raised their heads and, suddenly, voices filled the air. Shun closed his eyes and counted. Seven. There were seven clangs in total. It could only mean one thing.

“Consort Yue has given birth! She has given birth to a son! We have an heir at last!”

The entire palace was abuzz with excitement as Shun walked back to his rooms. It seemed as if the news of the new prince’s birth had swept away even the memory of the departure of the wedding party. In every courtyard there was a gaggle of servants on bamboo ladders hanging the red streamers of celebration. The kitchens must have had red eggs stockpiled in advance. Servants were already walking through the halls with baskets of them, the dot at the end of the shell denoting that a boy had been born.

The birth of a boy was more than just good news for the palace or the confirmation of an heir. For the past year, rumours that the Mandate of Heaven had left the king had circulated in the kingdom. Shun knew well that it was what the villagers of Yangnan spoke about when they thought that the local lords and officials could not hear. It was what was whispered at every town that he had stopped in. It was the sort of talk that promoted civil unrest and rebellion. Already, there had been a peasant uprising with far too much life lost for a kingdom in a new era of peace. The birth of a son would do well to assure the people that Heaven’s favour was still with the king. It may very well mean a stop to the tide of unrest.

It was news that should have made Shun happy. Shun just wanted to return to Yangnan. On the borders, life was simple. Everyone knew their place in the brotherhood that sprang from adversity. He had forgotten how simply exhausting being in the capital could be. Lan had always been the one better at teasing apart the sorts of political webs that made Shun’s head pound.

“She has given birth to a son - and he is fat and healthy .”

“It is no matter - you know what our instructions are.”

Shun stopped. The voices had drifted to him in the spring breeze. Where did they come from? He looked to his right and left. Two maids in the green livery of the palace servants stood beyond the round gateway in the wall of the courtyard he was in. Their heads were bent in conversation. There was no indication that they had seen him.

Shun frowned and stepped behind a plum tree, its branches still heavy with the final blossoms of the season, out of their line of sight.

“Yes, of course - but it is now much more difficult than the last babe- the fourth prince - who was small and sickly when he was born. How do we explain that happening to a healthy prince?”

“The first and second princes were healthy babes. We were fortunate in that year of the snake when the vomiting pestilence spread through the palace - but remember what happened to the second prince? A fate like that could be easily arranged.”

A coldness spread through Shun. King Ming Wang had no sons, but it was not because no princes had been born. His concubines and consorts had given birth to four male babes in total. The third prince had been said to be stillborn, and the others had not lived beyond their first month. He strained toward the voices but they drifted away. All he could hear was muffled mumbling. Shun shivered. He needed to speak to Lan. What did this mean?

Chapter 16

Chapter Text

Only those who were invited were permitted to see the party from Xu off. Shun had returned by mid morning, clearly not staying back to mingle with the other officials. It was something that Lan would need to correct. Lan sat on the floor next to Shun’s chair, looked up at Shun and bit back a sigh. How could Shun expect to build the required connections to survive in the capital otherwise?

The knowledge that Huiqing was clearly now gone left something hollow in Lan’s chest. Lan looked at his hands. He clenched and unclenched them. It was for the best that the Eighteenth Prince of Xu, with all his offers of freedom and temptation, was gone.

“I overheard something today.” Shun’s hand ghosted past his hair and Lan tilted his head up again. Shun stared past his own hands, the skin between his eyebrows furrowed into a deep frown. His fingers moved down and brushed Lan’s shoulder. Lan found his own hand reaching up for those fingers, but Shun’s hand was gone. Instead, he patted Shun’s knee. “What did you overhear?”

“Two women - I think they were wearing the livery of palace maids.” Shun’s frowned deepened. “I - it was strange. It sounded like they were talking about harming the new prince.”

Lan’s eyes widened. He stared at Shun’s face for a moment then closed his eyes. Deep breath. He tucked his hands underneath himself before they could start to shake. “Harming the new prince? They would talk such treason in daylight in the middle of the royal palace?”

“I don’t know! It - don’t you think it is strange that none of the King’s children seem to survive?” Shun pressed a fist down onto the table and snorted. “I wish I could just unhear it.”

Lan leaned his face against the warmth of Shun’s thigh. His fingers curled, and his nails bit into the skin of his palm.“What - what exactly did they say?”

“Not much. There was no word of what they were going to do.” Shun shook his head and heaved an exasperated sigh.“Still, if any of the past young princes were being harmed in any way royal physicians would know. Can you make sense of it?’

Of course it made no sense that none of the King’s sons could survive past infancy. It made no sense that under the Grand Duke’s rule, the taxes were low and the people satisfied, yet with Ming Wang on the throne and the Grand Duke demoted to the King’s right hand and most trusted advisor, the royal expeditions would stop and the taxes become unbearable.

It was just as strange, that between two brothers who, to all the world seemed the best of friends, the younger would suddenly want to kill and take the place of the older. The sixteen year old Prince Mingan had been seen in archery training in the barracks the morning he supposedly lead an attack on the eighteen year old to be crowned King, Ming Wang.

It had made no sense.

“I -” Lan pushed himself to his feet and paced across the room. A painting of plum blossoms hung there, the blossoms stark red against the backdrop of winter snow. He bit the inside of his cheek. His eyes traced the painted branches and he tried to forget a conversation he had overheard more than four years ago.

“Prince Mingan’s seal? He always keeps it in the first drawer in the desk in his study. Silly boy is so careless - he never keeps that desk locked.”

One tiny snippet of a seemingly innocent conversation that did not quite fit. Lan had chased it then and it had opened a whole world of trouble.

“You said that the physicians had said the new Prince is born fat and healthy?” Lan forced his voice to be light. “The kitchens are already distributing red eggs in celebration of the birth. Perhaps it has all just been a coincidence.”

“Lan,” Lan jumped and spun around. He nearly knocked into Shun, the man had come up so close. “Do you really believe that?”

Shun’s eyes were so wide and trusting. Lan’s chest tightened. It hurt. His breath caught in his throat. He tipped his head back and forced a smile onto his face. Perhaps there was a way to unhear a conversation.

“It is not uncommon for young babes to die in infancy. That is why the passing of the first month and the first hundred days after birth is such a momentous occasion to celebrate. Perhaps - perhaps the conversation had just been out of context?” He pressed a palm against Shun’s chest. Shun's heartbeat thudded under his fingertips, slow and steady. “If they were worried about the baby Prince, perhaps they were discussing the past male babes in an effort to protect him?”

Lan forced himself to hold Shun’s gaze. Shun’s brow had furrowed again.

“Per-perhaps. It was just… They just said something that didn’t quite fit. They said that -”

A flicker of movement caught the corner of Lan’s eye. He turned just in time to see a flash of a silver dragon’s claw on a blue silk sleeve flash in the candlelight, just outside their window.

Lan didn’t have time to think. He took a step forward and pulled Shun toward himself. His lips caught the other man’s and cut off Shun’s sentence. Shun’s eyes widened. For a moment, Lan thought he was going to pull away. Then, Lan’s back hit the wall behind him. Shun’s arms came up on either side of his face. His tongue slid against his lips and Lan groaned as he opened his mouth. Their tongues intertwined. Lan let his eyes flicker closed. He could feel Shun’s warmth, smell Shun’s earthy scent, taste him. Lan’s fingers bunched the material of the yi shirt of Shun’s hanfu and pulled him closer. Shun’s arm snaked around his waist.

Lan opened his eyes to look at Shun’s face - and watched as the figure of the Grand Duke emerged from the darkness of the night to cross their threshold.

“Ah, General.”

Shun went stiff. He pulled away instantly. Lan forced himself to loosen his fingers from Shun’s shirt and move his arms down to either side of himself. As soon as Shun stepped back, Lan dropped onto his knees, pulling his arms forward into a deep kowtow. He resisted the temptation to touch his lips.

“Your Grace,” Lan heard the quiet thump of Shun going down onto his knees beside him.

“It is a casual, impromptu, visit, General. Please - rise and do not worry about formalities.”

The long sleeve of the Grand Duke’s outer shengyi robe brushed the top of Lan’s head as he reached forward to help Shun stand. Lan bit down on his lip and tasted blood. How long had the Grand Duke been outside their window? How much had he overheard?

“Thank you, your Grace - to what do I owe the pleasure?”

A foot nudged against Lan’s side. He squeezed his eyes shut and forced himself to be as still as possible.

“Oh, I just wanted to see how you were settling in.” The hairs on the back of Lan’s neck prickled. “I see that you are enjoying your slave.”

“He is very well trained and - quite eager. I believe I have you to thank for that, your Grace.” There was an undeniable stiffness in Shun’s tone. Lan could not tell if the Grand Duke also noticed it.

“Well, as I have said to you already, General - if you don’t keep your slaves on a tight leash they will turn around and bite your hand - especially a slave from the treacherous Cheng family.” Footsteps paced around Lan’s still, prostrate, body. Lan shivered. “You grew up with the Cheng household, did you not? I have heard that it was the Cheng household’s martial arts tutor who was also your shifu?”

“Thank you for your concern in visiting us, your Grace. I hope the night was not too cold. The early Spring air is still quite chilly.”

The footsteps stopped. “The two of you must have grown up together. I wonder what sort of master young Cheng Lan was? A spoiled brat? You were lovers once, were you not?”

Shun snorted. “What are all sons of a wealthy household, your Grace? He proved who he was when he told me that I was ‘mud born peasant filth’ in front of the entire royal household - ”

Lan jerked before he could stop himself. He closed his eyes to the pain that blossomed through him. He should not be surprised. After what he had said to Shun, he was fortunate that Shun no longer hated him. He had no right to expect forgiveness for his words - or love. His breath hitched before he could stop himself. Had either man heard it? Lan forced himself to hold his breath.

“-so as you can see, I rather enjoy having him beneath my feet, your Grace.”

“Well. It is good to see that you are settling in, General. It is getting late. I bid you a good night, General.”

It was only after the Grand Duke’s steps had long faded into the distance that Lan let himself draw out a long breath.

Shun’s warm fingers curled around his own. “Lan, you can get up now, you know.”

Lan let himself indulge in the touch for a few heartbeats before he snatched his fingers away. He knelt up, keeping his gaze firmly fixed on Shun’s feet. “It is late, Master. We should go to bed.”

Lan’s status as Shun’s only slave brought more freedom of movement than he had expected in the palace. As he cleaned his Master’s rooms and brought Shun his meals, there was one thing Lan could not help noticing. There were images of the pine trees in the palace - everywhere. A servant may have a wooden carving hanging off their belt. A small figure may be etched onto the interlocked plates in the armour of a member of the palace guard.

It was as if his meeting with Prince Mingsong had lifted a veil from his eyes. He had seen the pine tree motif in the prince’s rooms and now he saw pine trees everywhere he looked. The trees appeared in the most strange of places. There was a pine tree carved into the wood just outside General Xao’s apartments.

Lan had walked past Scholar-Official Jia. He had met the man for the first time ten years ago as a bright-eyed young Civil Examination candidate being introduced to the sub-deputy of the palace treasury by his father. Ten years later, the man now wore the Mandarin Square bearing a golden pheasant - a second tier official, and only second in rank to the Minister of Finances. There was the smallest of pine trees embroidered into his mandarin square in the right lower corner. After Lan had passed his exams he had spent time in the Great Hall of the outer palace with the other Scholar-Officials. None of the Mandarin squares bearing birds or animals should have pine trees on them. What did it all mean?

“The second character in my name - 松 song - means pine.”

Lan remembered the pigeon nesting boxes in the Fifth Prince Mingsong’s rooms, and the Prince’s abrupt denial of any knowledge of messenger pigeons. Yet, the last bird that had flown in had something strapped to its leg.

Prince Mingsong was under house arrest. Who were these people that seemed to bear a mark so closely tied to him?

“I hope for the child’s sake that it is not a son.”

Shun had overhead servants talking about harming a newborn prince. Who could be able to kill the King’s sons so efficiently without notice?

The last time these sorts of questions arose, Lan had spoken to his father. Together, they had taken a risk to find the truth. This time, the answers seemed to lie with the man who was named after the pine tree.

Lan would need to find a way to play the Fifth Prince another visit. Only then could he find a way to guide Shun away from the truths of the palace they needed to avoid.

The second time Lan approached the apartments of the Fifth Prince in the Western Wing with a basket of food, noon sky was high in the sky. He raised a sleeve to shield his face from it as he approached the two guards posted to the front gates. In front of them, Lan bowed deeply and held up the basket.

“This humble slave brings food for the prince, Sirs.”

“The kitchen usually sends a servant - not a slave - with the Prince’s food.” One of the guard leaned forward and peered into Lan’s face. Lan bit his tongue against a curse. He lowered his arm, shuffled his feet and bowed even lower.

“I just follow orders, Sir,” he said. He stared at the dust on the guardsman’s boots and blinked. Imprinted into the leather of the second guard’s right boot was a small pine tree.

“Oh come off it, Bo-ling - he is just trying to complete the task he was given,” The second guards face was broad and pleasant and he elbowed his mate before turning to Lan with a smile. “I apologise for my friend here - “ He lowered his voice into a conspiratorial whisper, “He is just angry because the palace maids don’t like brutes without a sense of humour.”

“Ping! We are here to follow orders from the Grand Duke and King. No one is to enter or leave the Fifth Prince’s rooms without their permission.” The first guard, Bo-ling, grunted and turned flint hard eyes toward Lan. “What is your business here?"

Lan held up the basket of food. “To - to bring the Fifth Prince his midday meal, Sir?” He forced an inflection at the end of his sentence and bit his lip. Lan widened his eyes. “I - it was the cook’s orders. Please - I should not make His Highness wait.”

“We are following the King’s orders. Prince Mingsong is under house arrest but there’s been no order to starve him. He is our Most Honorable Ruler’s younger brother, after all” Ping rolled his eyes and elbowed his fellow guard. “Little brother, you are welcome to enter.”

Lan’s eyes slid down again as he passed the two guards. The mark of a small pine tree was definitely stamped on the outside of the guard’s boots. He raised his eyes to meet the guard and was answered by a raised eyebrow. Lan ducked his head and bowed. “Thank you, Sir.”

The gate to the Fifth Prince’s apartment closed behind him as Lan stepped into the courtyard. Three white pigeons sat atop their nesting boxes, cooing and preening in the sun. Prince Mingsong held a fourth in his hand. He twisted something against the bird’s claw.

Lan knelt to the ground and kowtowed. “This slave greets Your Royal Highness.”

The Prince spun around. The bird he was holding flew away in a flap of feathers and a flurry of white. “Ah, Po -” He stopped. His eyes narrowed. “It’s Cheng Lan again, isn’t it? Are the kitchen staff so short sighted now that they cannot tell the difference between you and my manservant in broad daylight?”

“I was just asked to bring you your lunch, Your Highness.” Lan pressed his forehead against the ground. He took two deep breaths.“And - I wanted to ask you a question.” He had thought out what he had wanted to say beforehand but now, in front of the Fifth Prince, the words came out in a tumbled mess. He held his breath. This was always going to be a risk.

It took forever for Prince Mingsong to speak. Lan’s chest burned.

“Well then, in that case, why don’t you come inside with the food.”

Lan’s breath exploded out of him in a rush of relief. Staggering to his feet, he bowed again before he followed the other man into the apartments and set his food on the table. Behind him, Prince Mingsong had closed the doors. In that room that was covered with paintings and carvings of pine trees, he felt his courage rise a little. Everything Lan had seen and thought about, there was only one answer that could make sense.

Prince Mingsong’s face was half turned away from him, his profile illuminated by the light that filtered through the windows. One eyebrow was arched in an expression that matched that of his first guard. “Well then?”

Lan licked his lips and smoothed his hands over his shirt. “There are many in the royal court who seem to share your fascination for pine trees, Your Highness.”

The expression on the prince’s face did not shift. “Oh? I did not think it was a crime to like pine trees.”

Lan swallowed. “Enough that they wear the pine tree on their clothing as if it was a badge? Official Wu did not have a pine tree embroidered on his mandarin square four years ago. Your name, you said, meant pine tree.”

The temperature in the room dropped. The Prince’s voice was ice cold. “What are you trying to imply? I am under house arrest, not able to leave the gilded cage that my brother has put me in. Even if I had a band of supporters - “ He snorted. “Are you here for gold? Were you planning to go to the Grand Duke with this information?”

Lan shook his head. He wiped sweat slicked palms over the front of his shirt. “You said something last time we met, Your Highness. You hoped the King’s next child was not a son. None of his Majesty’s sons have survived past their infancy.”

Prince Mingsong turned to face Lan, eyes narrowed. “So you are accusing me of both amassing a body of supporters and of killing my nephews? I may be under house arrest, Cheng Lan - but those are brave and foolish words for a slave to utter with no evidence.”

Lan shook his head again and lifted his head to meet Prince Mingsong’s. “I am not accusing you of any of those things, Your Highness.” Lan forced his voice to be steady. “I just want to know the truth. I am not after gold or reporting to the Grand Duke.” How was he going to get the Fifth Prince to trust him? He sucked in a breath. “I know the truth about what happened to your brother, the Second Prince Mingan.”

Mingsong’s eyes widened. “You-” The sudden clang of bells in the midday air cut through anything he was about to say.

There were two sets of bells in the palace. One to announce life, the other to announce death. The Lan closed his eyes and counted the number of tolls. His mouth grew dry and his throat tight. This could only mean one thing.

“Your Highness, the young prince - he is - “

Mingsong met Lan’s eyes, his expression grim. “It seems that the baby Prince, my newest nephew, is dead.”

Chapter 17

Chapter Text

If the news of the young Prince’s birth had moved quickly through the palace, the news of his death exploded through it. Overnight, the red banners of celebration were pulled down. By morning, white ribbons of mourning hung at every door frame and window. A ban was placed on all celebrations, music, alcohol and revelry. Even the officials who visited the palace were required to wear a band of white on their right upper arm over the sleeve of their official robes.

In the fourth week of the second month of the New Year, the King and the Grand Duke, accompanied by the highest rank officials of the civil service, made a pilgrimage to the Temple of Heaven to pray for the year ahead. It was unclear if the Heavens had truly spoken but on their return three of the royal soothsayers was cast in prison and executed by the following dawn. Lord Lin - the first rank Official and head of the Ministry of Rites was stripped of his position and exiled to the southern marshes and his family banished with him.

It did nothing to stop the rumours. The facts repeated themselves over and over again. This was not the first or second babe that had died. It was the fifth. It all coincided in the same year with the flood in the north and two earthquakes in the south. Even within the palace walls the whispers could not be stifled. Could the Mandate of Heaven truly have left the King? If so - who now received the Mandate of Heaven?

On the last night of the second month, a lone rider clattered down the moonlight main street before half falling off his horse on the gateway. The outline of a oriole could still be seen on the tattered mandarin square still half fixed to his back

“The King! I need an audience with the King!”

Shun’s eyes snapped open to banging on his doors. Lan had already sat up next to him and was rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. “Shun -” he said and then smothered a yawn. “You need to go and open the door.”

Shun groaned. He tied his hair back with a small piece of leather at the nape of his neck and slung a coat around his shoulders before walking to the door.

“What is -” he stopped at the sight that greeted him. Suddenly the sleep that threatened to pull at his eyes was gone. There were three men outside in the golden livery of the royal herald. They were flanked by four guards. Two of the heralds bore torches while the third held up a royal edict wrapped in golden silk. “What is it?”

“General Wei Shun, the King has called for an emergency private audience. Your presence is commanded to attend.”

Shun was not the only one who had been called to attend the Great Hall. Under flickering lanterns, the twenty highest-ranked officials of both the civil and military factions milled beneath the dais holding the dragon throne. All bowed low as soon as the King, flanked by the Grand Duke at his side, entered the Great Hall.

“There has been another attack. The townsfolk of Luofeng have revolted against the Magistrates and administration.”

Shun’s body stiffened as soon as the words hit his ears. The hall exploded into conversation around him

“Another attack?”

“The peasants are growing bolder by the day.”

“They need to be taught their place.”

One white-bearded Scholar-Official walked toward the center of the hall. The first tap of his bamboo cane against the hardwood floor silenced all other voices. When the he reached the divide between Scholar and Military he bowed low, stooping heavily over his cane.

“Your Majesty, how many people revolted in Luofeng? How many were injured and what has happened to the Magistrate’s household?”

Shun could see this Scholar-Official’s Mandarin Square over his bowed back. It bore the image of a blue crane resting from the summer heat under the branches of a lone pine tree. Official Wu Heng-shi. The head of the Ministry of Justice and the oldest of all the civil officials. It was said he had already seen four generations of Kings pass the Dragon Throne.

The Grand Duke put a hand on the King’s shoulder. “It was a small, but strong, group,” he said. “They used the power of surprise to attack the Magistrate’s house and I understand that they have gained power. The people are rioting in the streets. Poor Official Lin - the Sub-Magistrate of Luofeng thinks he is the only one of that household to survive.”

Wu Heng-shi’s shoulders rose and fell with a long sigh. He bowed low again and leaned heavily on his stick as he rose. “It is a great and tragic loss, Your Majesty and Your Grace. The people - they have borne the brunt of war and now their backs break under such harsh taxes. It is - ”

“Official Wu - do you dare to question the wisdom of His Majesty’s decisions?” Lord Pan pushed his way to the center of the room. Even when he bowed, his solid frame towered over the elderly official. “Your Majesty, it is a disgrace that the peasants are allowed a riot such as this! They need to be curbed and brought under control unless Jin is to be wracked by more unrest.”

A voice piped up from the back of the hall. “Luofeng is a good-sized town! There are more than just peasants who reside there.”

Lord Pan turned his head. “All the more to act quickly now, your majesty - and Your Grace. This unholy disquiet is spreading its way through the classes.”

Official Wu tapped his cane twice against the floor again before he clasped his hands and bowed with his arms outstretched. “I would not dare to question the wisdom and sovereignty of the Dragon Throne,” he said slowly. “It is just that times such as these are dangerous, Your Majesty. Thought and consideration must be used to ensure that a quick response does not do more damage in the future.”

“Your Majesty,” - another blue robed civil official bowed in the far right of the room. Shun did not recognise him although the rank he bore - the peaco*ck - was not insignificant. His face was unlined and his black hair was swept neatly under the black square formal guan hat all Scholar-Officials wore. He could not possibly be any older than Shun. “-it seems perhaps we need someone who understands the common people to sort this out before it spreads. I believe that General Wei may have something to say about this.”

All eyes turned to Shun. Shun faltered. He could feel the tips of his ears burning. A blind man could see why the people of Luofeng - and the people everywhere - were revolting. What was he supposed to say? It was just as old Official Wu had said. Years of war, followed by taxes that were heavier than anything else in history, mixed in with a few natural disasters, and the inability for an heir to survive infancy - it was no wonder that the people felt Ming Wang an unjust ruler and that the Mandate of Heaven had passed to other shoulders. The young King’s reign was as different from his uncle’s regency as night was from day.

“Your Majesty,” Shun clasped his hands and bowed. He licked his lips and prayed that his words would not see his head on a plate. “Your people - they lead hard lives but they want unrest as little as we do. They are rioting because of undue -”

“What are you saying, General Wei - that you side with the peasants?” Lord Pan scoffed. He turned to to the King. “Your Majesty, this is not the time to be soft. We need to show these people the power of your sovereignty.”

“Indeed, Lord Pan.” All the hairs on the back of Shun’s neck stood up straight as the young King glanced at him and then at Official Wu. He paused and then turned to the side. “Uncle - what do you think in all of this?”

The Grand Duke stepped forward, in front of the King. “Lord Pan, Official Wu - your arguments both have value. However, I think that the people do need to be taught who their sovereign is. They seem to have forgotten their place - have they not?” He turned behind himself and inclined his head.

The King gave a brief nod. He glanced at his uncle again and the Grand Duke gave a small nod. Shun wasn’t sure if it was a flicker of worry that passed through the younger man’s eyes but then the King shook his head as if to clear it. “The rebels receive the same fate as the peasants of Qincheng. I want two battalions to encircle the town. Anyone with a hint of the connection to the rebels and their families are to be executed publicly without trial. General Wei - you know the common people well - you are to lead the attack.”

It felt as if a bowl of ice cold water had been doused over Shun’s head. He gasped, and then fell to his knees. Could he follow such an order and slaughter innocents? Bile rose up in the back of his throat. He shook his head. “Your Majesty! The rebels have violated the laws and need to be punished but surely - there may be children who do not yet know right from wrong. I -”

Somewhere in the distance there was a third tap of bamboo against wood. Official Wu’s reedy voice rang out. “You Majesty - the rebels need to be brought to justice, but this -”

“Are you objecting to His Majesty’s orders, General? ” There was no disguising the glee in Lord Pan’s voice. “Official Wu, you have served the Ministry of Justice for most of your years. You cannot also be sympathising with these rebels who need to be crushed?”

“Objecting to my sovereignty - is that your intention, General?” The King paused and then set his jaw. “This is an imperial order, General Wei. You will either obey it or - ” He was stopped by the Grand Duke’s hand on his arm.

“Your Majesty - General Wei has done much for the Kingdom of Jin.” The Grand Duke’s smile was honey-sweet. “It would be a pity to waste his talent.” He turned to his nephew. “Why don’t we deploy General Lu, instead? He has experience at Qincheng - and there is another place I would like General Wei to help me in.”

The King grunted. “General Lu?”

There was a faint rustling of silk as the other general bowed. “Thank you for Your Majesty’s honour and trust. I accept the assignment.”

Relief rushed through Shun. Even on his knees deep in a kowtow, his arms and legs shook. “Thank - “ he had to swallow before the words would form properly. “Thank you for your generosity, Your Majesty, Your Grace. Your servant does not deserve this.”

The Grand Duke laughed. “General - you thank me before even knowing what assignment I want for you?” He shook his head and chuckled again. “I don’t think you will have any objections to this, though. There have been bandits attacking our villages and Xu’s villages on our border. Xu has asked through our treaty for assistance. I think it is for the best, for both of our nations, if we cooperate, don’t you think? It will also assist with morale for our people - it will be good in the face of all the ill luck we have had. What do you think?”

Shun kowtowed again and pressed his forehead to the ground. He did not think he could rise even if he had wanted to. “This humble servant accepts the assignment.”

The rest of the meeting passed in a rabble of words and plans. It all rushed over Shun who did not hear any of the conversation that occurred. At some point, he must have managed to get to his feet because he was standing as the first rays of the morning sun slid through the windows of the Grand Hall and the meeting was finally dismissed.

“General Wei!”

Shun stopped in the hallway that turned into the courtyard which lead to his room. His eyes itched with sleep and he longed to be back in bed with the warmth of Lan at his back and the steady breaths of the other man in his ear. He turned, bowed, and tried to swallow his yawn. “Your Grace.”

“I just wanted to thank you for accepting my little assignment.” The Grand Duke’s hands clasped his elbow and helped Shun to straighten. “It - well, as you know the three Kingdom Alliance has always been a dream of mine since the war with Dali started.” He smiled at Shun and clasped his hands in front of him. In front of Shun’s startled eyes, he bent his back in a half bow. “This service you render will be good for our alliance, I think. It will strengthen it.”

“I - I am just happy to be of service,” Shun said.

The Grand Duke patted Shun’s shoulder and smiled. “You are a good man, General Wei. The Heavens smiled indeed on the Kingdom of Jin when you came into our service.” He bent his head in a half bow again. “Good morning, General, and - ” he paused and shrugged, “Do keep an eye on Cheng Lan, won’t you? He has always been far too curious for a slave.”

Shun had been summoned for an audience before the King. It was a long audience. Lan watched as the stars went out one by one and the sky faded from deep black to purple. He had tried lying back in their bed but the thoughts of what it was that could be happening, or why such an audience needed to be called, flooded his mind as soon as he closed his eyes. He could not sleep.

It was only when the skies were turning a faint pink that Lan heard the sound of a familiar footfall outside their apartment’s door. He scrabbled to his feet, opening the door just as Shun had raised his own hand to open it.

“Master,” Shun looked pale and deep shadows marred the skin underneath his eyes. Lan frowned and then took Shun’s hand. The other man followed him wordlessly. At the table, Lan poured Shun a cup of hot jasmine tea before moving to close the doors. “Shun. What happened?”

“Luofeng.” Shun picked up his cup. Lan winced as the other man took one big, hot, mouthful of tea. If it burned, Shun did not seem to notice. He swallowed and shook his head. Lan didn’t move to refill his cup. “There was a revolt in Luofeng. I think - I think the Magistrate’s family are dead.” He stared into nothingness for a moment before shaking his head again. “The King wants to slaughter anyone even remotely related to those involved in the revolt.”

“What?” Lan shook his head. He took three steps forward, whirled on his heel and paced the length of their sitting room. “That - you mean the same order again? This is not going to settle the people down! Doing such a thing - it doesn’t get to the root of the problem. Does the King not think about why there would be a problem in the first place?”

“It was what Official Wu wanted him to think about, but Lord Pan would not even let him speakthink. More than half of the highest ranking officials were baying for the town’s blood.” Shun rubbed his forehead and set his cup down. He closed his eyes, “I....I was almost asked to lead the massacre.”

Lan stilled and then in three steps he was at Shun’s side. His hands gave Shun’s shoulders a slight squeeze. “Are - are you? Was it an imperial order?”

“No. Y - you know, help sometimes comes from the strangest of places. The Grand Duke managed to convince the King to let me go on another assignment - ow - Lan- that hurts!”

Lan forced his fingers to loosen. He took a step back and a deep breath in. It was just an assignment - it wouldn’t be what he thought. “Another assignment?” He tried to keep his voice as light as possible. “Where would that be to - and what about your duties here?”

“Oh, here? General Pan is nearly recovered. We can move out - in fact we will as soon as I leave for the border towardtowards Xu. There are some bandits that Xu, it seems, have asked for our assistance in suppressing. They are attacking villages on either side of the border.” Shun shrugged and smiled, “It - I was grateful the other job was not an imperial order for me. I do not know how Lu Chengbo can obey such an order.”

Lan nodded slowly. It was a good thing, of course it was, that Shun was not forced to obey such a barbaric edict. Any direct imperial order was the law. To disobey would be treason. The fact that they had such an unlikely ally should have been a stroke of good fortune - if only it made sense.

The border between Xu and Jin was Huiqing’s responsibility. Lan had ridden out with Huiqing and his band of generals. TheyThere were a close- knit group of men who took pride in their service to their country. To allow simple bandits to get out of hand to the point that Jin’s help would need to be called upon - Huiqing and most of his generals would need to be dead, not travelling to fetch a Prince for a wedding. It was a matter of honour and pride for these men.

“Shun - where exactly on the border is this happening?” Lan asked.

“I was told that they hid in Tiao-hu pass.” Shun said. He reached inside his sleeve and pulled out a map, unfolding it so it lay flat on the table. He pointed to the capital. “We leave in two days,” he traced a road west, “It is about four days ride to the pass - approximately halfway between our capital and Xu’s capital.”

Lan froze. Shun had been deployed to the northern valleys during the war. It was where Dali, Xu, and Jin’s borders met. The Tiao-hu pass was much further south. Shun wouldn’t be familiar with the route, but Lan was.

“Do you know why the pass is named Tiao-hu - Leaping Tiger?,” Lan asked, "It isn’t as broad as what it looks on that map. It’s actually so narrow that a tiger could easily leap from one side of the pass to the other. There are smaller tracks up the sides of the, known mostly to the goat-herdersgoatherds and shepherds of the area, and higher up there is a network of caves a group could easily hide.” He shook his head. “Shun - this is a trap.”

“What?” Shun turned to face Lan with a frown. “What do you mean? It’s just a small assignment.”

“No - Shun you don’t understand. Huiqing - he looks after that area on the Eastern border.” Lan pointed to where Huiqing’s estate lay, half a day’s ride after the pass. “There is no way that he would allow such a situation to arise.”

As soon as those words were out of his mouth, Lan knew his mistake. He had referred to the Eighteenth Prince, Huiqing, Huiqing - not the Eighteenth Prince - without any title or formality. Shun’s eyes shuttered closed. His jaw hardened.

“Huiqing?” He raised an eyebrow. “I knew - I knew there was something there. You know the Eighteenth Prince of Xu well, then?”

Lan’s eyes widened and he took a step back. “Shun - I told you, I was a diplomat there for a few years. I have met all the Princes of Xu.”

“Enough to be on a first name basis with them, then?” Shun turned away. “Was - was this why you decided that I was no longer good enough for you?”

Lan gaped and then shook his head. “What? No - Shun, you have to understand. Prince Huiqing and his men - they would think it a stain on their honour if they let a situation with mere bandits get so out of hand that they needed to ask for assistance. The Grand Duke has never had any love for me and I don’t know why he would want to help us like this.” He remembered that night, that flash of a silver dragon just outside their window, when they had spoken about the murder of baby Prince. “Can’t you see it doesn’t make sense?”

“Were you and the Prince intimate?” Shun scowled. “No - don’t answer, of course you were. You know him well enough to just call him casually by his first name. Are you opposed to my involvement in this because it will bring shame to your Prince?”

Lanstepped forward and reached out a hand for the other man’s arm. “Shun, listen to me. It is a trap. You can’t go - or if you must, take me with you. You have never been to that part of Xu’s border but it is part of the most direct route between our capitals. I have travelled it many times. I can help you.”

Shun was an idiot. It had never been any more clear than in that moment.There was no other times it was clearer than now. He barely spoke to Lan after they left the palace and, in just threea short three days, left in the early hours of the morning without even a word of goodbye.

Lan did not even have the chance to explain who Huiqing was to him, and now Shun, was most certainly was going to die.

After Lan had voiced his suspicions regarding the Second Prince’s accusation of treachery against his older brother, and his conviction and execution, Lord Cheng had started a careful probe into the matter. Within two months, there was enough evidence to present to the King and court a request to start an open investigation. Planted evidence, the hiring of assassins, and a paper trail that seemed to lead to the Grand Duke had been discovered. It was in the eve before the requested audience that the allegation of treachery was made. Lord Cheng and all his sons and their households had been arrested.

Now, because of one overheard conversation, Shun had also become embroiled in all of this.

Lan had never thought he would be grateful to the Heavens, for the fact that Shun maintained only a skeleton staff of servants. What it meant now, though, was that as soon as the sun had disappeared and the moon was out, most would be in bed. There was not even a stable boy keeping watch of Shun’s horses overnight. The kitchen was similarly, empty of any activity.

He managed to sneak a portion of leftover steamed buns, and a rice dumpling wrapped in lotus leaves, out of the kitchen as well - as a flask of water. Wrapping the food carefully in a sheet, he made his way down to the stables. A handful of sugar to the two horses there stopped any sounds that may have raised the alarm. It was all too easy to find a saddle and tack. It was a miracle that Shun had not been robbed before.

In the darkness of the night, Lan led the horses out onto the street before sliding onto the saddle. He did not need a map to know where Shun and the men he had been assigned would be headed. He needed to find them - and to stop Shun from riding into a mistake that would cost him his life.

Chapter 18

Chapter Text

In the first alleyway he found himself in, Lan fished the small knife he had pocketed from the kitchen out and sliced through the leather that encircled his neck. It fell into two pieces in his hand. He stared at them under the moonlight for a moment, taking a long breath in, and out. Finally, Lan closed his eyes and tossed them into a darkened corner. For this to succeed, he could not look like a slave.

Lan loosened his braid, combing through the long back lengths with his fingers, and then used the tie to bind his hair up into a topknot. His head felt strangely heavy with the hairstyle of a freeman. He smoothed a hand over his hair and then down the front of his hanfu. With the clothes that Shun had bought for him, Lan could easily pass as a servant of a wealthy household. The evenings and nights were still cool enough to require wool and as long as he was clothed, no one could see his convict slave’s tattoo.

It had been four long years since his trial. Even back then, the focus of the investigation had been on his father, on the esteemed Lord Cheng, once Head of the Ministry of Justice and, later, Honoured Ambassador to Xu. No one had really paid any attention to the nameless fourth son. For many, Lan may as well have been pulled into the conviction from association rather than any direct relation to the crimes named. It was one of the reasons why his head was still between his shoulders. There was now as good a chance as any that his face as a named and convicted felon had long been forgotten.

That reasoning did not stop Lan’s heart from hammering in his ears as his horse neared the city gates. The first obstacle. Would he be allowed to leave in the dead of night well after the gates had closed? His hands tightened on the reins he held. There were only two guards at the front gate during the night shift: the rest were scattered amongst the battlements. Lan could see one of the men yawn in the torchlight as he approached. Good. If they were tired, perhaps he could get past without too many questions.

“Where are you going, little brother?”

Lan recoiled from the heat of the torch as it was waved in front of his face. He ducked his head and tried to look as humble as possible. Could they hear his heart as it threatened to burst out of his chest? “Good night, Sirs,” he said, mouth dry. Two faces peered curiously at him but - thank the Heavens - there was no recognition on any of their expressions.

“It’s late, little brother, what can be so important that you would need to leave at this hour of the night?”

Lan bowed in the saddle. He had all day since Shun had left to think about this excuse. “My - my Master’s mother has taken suddenly ill,” he said, “He left for business in the direction of Ximen this morning but he needs to come back.”

“Ah - delivering a message?” One of the guardsman smirked and elbowed the other. Dark eyes looked Lan up and down. “Well, where is this note as proof of your journey? Some servants choose the dead of the night to rob their Masters of all their riches and escape.”

Lan breathed a prayer of thanks to the Heavens and ancestors that Shun had given him free reign of his study. Reaching a hand into the folds of his hanfu, he procured the letter that he had prepared earlier that day. The flickering torchlight disguised how much his hands shook. The note was taken from him and opened impatiently.

“Look, there it is,” The second guardsman stabbed at the piece of paper with a finger. He snorted and rolled his eyes at his companion. “Come on off it - if he was really stealing all his Masters’ riches, he is sure hiding it very well with a single horse and two small saddlebags. The note confirms his story.”

“It seems so.”The first guard inclined his head, “Apologies, little brother. I wish you good speed on your journey - and that your Master has not made too much headway already in his travels.”

Lan nodded his head in thanks and made a show of carefully folding the note and ducking it back within the shirt of his hanfu. He made sure that he waved a quick good bye as he rode past - just like any other servant who was out doing their master’s business.

It was only when he was well clear of the city gates that he let himself breathe a long sigh of relief. They had believed him. He was out of the boundaries of the capital. He looked up at the moon and then down at the path before him. With a retinue of the size Shun had left with, there were only a few possible spots that they could camp on the way. They were bigger, needed supplies and would therefore be slower.

If Lan rode all night, he might well be able to catch up.

They were riding into a trap.

Even without Lan’s warning, Shun had known the truth of it as soon as he had seen the men he was given and the official royal edict he was handed. The edict was addressed to him and him only. It was not a command to lead a troop of men to the pass but to ride into the pass. The men he was given were a motley bunch numbering no more than twenty. An unfortunate group that may have been rounded up from the farms that surrounded the capital. Some were little more than children. There were at least two that made Shun wonder if they had ever even seen a sword or a proper spear before in their life. It was difficult to train them out of holding the weapon like a common garden hoe.

It was not the first time such an order was given to eliminate a person of inconvenience to the Crown who was popular with the common people. Shun remembered Lan reading to him from the history texts. In the Chun dynasty, five generals of the Gu family had been ordered into a battle where they were ambushed by the Emperor’s own army and massacred. The same fate had befeld General Fei in the Yu dynasty two hundred years later. A death in a battle far away was glorious and less likely to excite a riot amongst the common people than if an official arrest and execution was made.

What had incited such an order against himself? He cast his memory back to the night Lan had suddenly grabbed and kissed him. Only moments after, the Grand Duke had appeared at his door. Had he heard their conversation? Even if he had - it was not as if Shun had been the one plotting the young Princeling’s murder! There were always jealousies in court and the Pan family’s opposition to him was nothing new. What was it that Shun had done?

The King was the Son of Heaven, and served under the Mandate of Heaven. His words were law. Shun had no choice. If he disobeyed the orders he would be committing treason - a felony punishable by execution. If he obeyed the order - the road was also to death. Could he just disappear? He was riding with twenty men - how could he do so? There was only one thing he could do: continue forward and try to think of a way to escape this.

It was not that Shun was afraid of death. That was something left far behind him in the the pits of the Northern Valleys years ago. If he did die, he only had two regrets. His mother - thank the Heavens he had not heard of any men being deployed to Yangnan - and Lan. What would happen to Lan after he died? Shun had tried to send a message back to the capital to ask his steward to move Lan to Yangnan but messengers found at small outposts and villages were often unreliable. If only he had done more than just remove the younger man out of the palace! Would the Grand Duke sink his claws back into Lan again?

“General! General Wei!”

Shun looked up from rubbing down his horse. He was still dressed in the armor of interlocked steel he wore for the day’s ride. Around him, the men bustled and bumbled in the fading light and tried to set up as close an imitation of a camp as they could. It was Ah-Hai who had called out to him: a young was wide eyed and over-excitable boy with long, gangly, limbs that made him look no older than fifteen - although he swore himself to have seen at least twenty summers. His voice had not even fully deepend yet.

“General! This man - he says he was looking for you!”

Shun frowned and looked past the younger man running toward him. The figure on the horse riding toward him was somehow familiar. There was something about that profile…. The rider swayed a little and his horse reared. The last rays of the sun caught his face. Shun sucked in a breath. That nose, that sharp, pointed stubborn chin. His hair was no longer in a slave’s braid but Shun would still recognise him anywhere.

What was Lan doing here?

He was striding forward before he could think.

Lan’s horse came back down and Lan slumped forward on his saddle. Shun move to a run.

He reached Lan’s side just in time. The younger man’s face was pinched, his lips were cracked and dry. He lolled forward. “Shun,” he said and promptly slid forward and out of the saddle into Shun’s arms.

“What do you mean you ran out of food and drink?”

Lan shrugged and tilted his head back, emptying the third flask of water that Shun had passed to him.

“I thought that I had brought enough,” he said. He reached out for a dried biscuit, munched happily for a moment and then tilted his head back for another swill of water.

Shun scowled, “- And sleep?”

“How else was I meant to catch up with you, Lord General?” Lan smiled up a Shun, “You moved faster than I thought you possibly could.” He paused, “Well, I meant that I knew you had a head start but I underestimated how fast you rode. The second day was also much warmer than I thought it would be so the buns I managed to bring with me spoiled - hence I ran out of food.” Lan shrugged, “It’s been three days but I did manage to find you in the end. Besides, the lack of sleep is no matter- I feel much better now after that nap.”

“You did manage to find me. In the end.” Shun carefully tried to keep his face and expression as neutral as possible. Lan was out of the capital. That had to be a good thing - but here? Shun could not even protect himself - how could he possibly also protect Lan?

Lan’s face sobered. He sipped once more from the water flask before handing it back to Shun. “You - you can’t keep riding forward,” He said, “All this talk about bandits is just a ruse, you know. It is a trap, Shun. Never mind what I said about Prince Huiqing - the Grand Duke wants you dead. It is just like General -”

“General Fei?” Shun swallowed the snort of hysterical laughter. A ruse? Of course it was. What did Lan want him to do? If he rode forward, of course he was dead. If he turned back to the capital he was as good as dead, anyway - and so was Lan and possibly even his mother.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Lan. What evidence of a ruse do you have? I cannot disobey orders on whim. We are not children in your father’s household anymore.” Hurt flashed across Lan’s face. Shun swallowed and forced his eyes away. “What if you couldn’t catch up with me, Lan? What if - what if they had found you out at the gate or realized you were an escaped slave? This was too much of a risk for a suspicion and a whim.”

“This is not just a whim! The Grand Duke he - “ Lan sucked a breath in and paused, “It is too much to explain now, but you will have to trust me, Shun and I will tell you later. I could not possibly just wait back in the capital for news of your death. Was I to wait for a bloody dog tag to be delivered to your door?” Lan stepped forward. His fingers curled around Shun’s sleeve and Shun allowed himself to be pulled back to face the younger man. Another hand pressed up against his chest. It found the wooden dog tag around Shun’s neck that all members of the Jin military wore for sake of identification after death and gave it a tug. “I couldn’t just let you die.”

Shun took in a deep breath and let it out. I couldn’t just let you die. Then what? Had Lan come along just to die with him? Shun could not allow that to happen. He glanced down at the younger man’s face. The soldiers who had helped Lan to Shun’s tent did not recognise him. No one at all had recognised Lan as the slave that King Ming Wang had gifted a general at a celebration more than half a year ago. Lan could leave. He had to leave.

Shun shook away Lan’s hand and stepped back. “You’re a slave, Lan - my slave. I gave you an order to stay in my household in the capital,” he forced a sneer on his face. “You would think that a slave with half a brain could obey it.”

Lan frowned and then his lip twitched up in a smile. “Shun - Shun what are you talking about? This isn’t time to joke.”

“A - a joke? Of course it is not a joke.” Shun had to take another deep breath before he could bring himself to do what he knew he had to do next - to wipe away that carefully cultivated trust. He brought his hand back and swung it forward.

There was a loud crack as his palm struck against the flesh of Lan’s cheek hard enough to send the other man reeling. Raw shock flooded Lan’s face.

Shun had to turn around. He feel sick.

“You are my slave,” He ground each word out as he took a stepped from Lan. He whirled on his heel back around mustering all he could within him into a glare. Shun’s eyes slid across Lan’s face. Lan was still cradling his cheek. How hard had he hit Lan? “Look at yourself. Did you think impersonating a freeman and running away could disguise what you are?”

“Shun - ”

“Master.”

Lan’s eyes flared for a moment before he dropped his gaze. “Master,” He breathed. Lan’s hand moved down to reveal a fast reddening cheek. Had Shun hit him hard enough to bruise? Shun swallowed against the bile that threatened to rise at the back of his throat.

“Do you know what happens to stupid, runaway, slaves? They get their hamstrings cut so they cannot rise to their feet and must crawl on their hands and knees. That’s how they learn their place.” It was good Lan was no longer looking at him because Shun could not look at Lan anymore. He focused his eyes to a spot above the other man’s head and blinked furiously against the sting in his eyes. His chest hurt with every word he forced out. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t string you up tomorrow and have all my men beat you for what you have done.”

“This - Shun you can’t mean this - “ Lan’s words cut off suddenly. There was silence. The only sounds were the hiss and draw of their breaths. Shun grit his teeth and folded his arms behind himself. He would be a fool if he tried to embrace Lan now. Finally - “I - I just didn’t want you to die,” The words were small and quiet and ended with a hitch and a soft sob. Lan’s head was still down. Shun squeezed his eyes closed and turned away.

“I will give you one chance. Go to sleep now and leave here before light tomorrow - before my men discover what you are and you bring even more shame to me. Ride to Yangnan and you can await your punishment there for when I return.”

The silence seemed to stretch forever. Then the words came - so soft Shun had to strain to hear them.

“Yes, Master.”

By the time Shun could bring himself to turn around, Lan had already curled up on a pallet. He laid on his side, face turned away from him. His shoulders were stiff and every now and then there was what sounded like a stifled sob.

Shun slowly unbuckled his armor and laid it to the side. In the flickering candlelight he took his sword out of its scabbard and polished it before moving onto the tip of his spear. Lan’s stiff shoulders eventually slumped. His breathing drew long and even.

“Lan?”

No response.

Shun went and lay on his pallet for a long time listening to the slow hiss of breath as he left the other man’s nostrils and then re entered it. Finally, he sat up. In the darkness, he fumbled for a pair of boots and a cloak. His hand knocked against a tent pole with a loud thwack and for a heart stopping moment, he thought that Lan would wake but the other man’s breaths continued - slow, regular, even.

Shun slipped out of his tent. In the morning, Lan would be gone.

He had preparations to make.

Chapter 19

Chapter Text

Shun opened his eyes to deep blue stillness. In the distance, there was the faint call of birdsong. In the sliver of sky he could see between the tent flaps, the stars had faded and there was the faintest hint of light on the horizon. The entire encampment was silent. Shun muffled a yawn behind one hand and sat up slowly. The pallet Lan had slept on was empty. His shoulders drooped as he let out a long breath. Gone. Shun swallowed another yawn before he stood up. He walked over the other pallet and smoothed his hand over the rumple of blankets where Lan had slept. Warm. It still smelled faintly like Lan. Gone not too long then. A quick fumble in the darkness found his boots and he slipped them on before peeling back the tent flap.

Their camp had been pitched on a slope. Shun’s tent was at the highest point and the encampment stretched out beneath him. In the dim morning light, he could make out a figure in the distance - near the horses. Shun slipped out of his tent. The grass, covered with early morning dew, crunched underneath his feet. Shun stopped before he got so close that he could be seen or heard.

He was close enough. He could see Lan. Lan was taking his horse. His back was ramrod straight, fingers clenched knuckle tight around his horse’s reins. Still angry, then. Good. Too angry, it seemed, to either notice or question the extra saddlebags that had been fastened to his horse’s back. Shun let out another long breath. His insides twisted within him. Would he ever see Lan again? It was a good thing, he reminded himself. Lan needed to get away as far from here as possible. He needed to go to a place beyond the reach of the Capital.

With any luck, Shun had made Lan so angry all he would do was ride. Then, Lan would be a good distance away before he noticed the extra load that had been given to him.

Lan was clever, after all - far more clever than Shun could ever hope to be. He would see the coin packed within and the note - and he would know what to do. Even if Lan hated him the rest of his days, Shun could bear it. He could face the Hall of Judgement in the Underworld, knowing Lan was safe.

At least one of them could now disappear.

The sun, Lan decided, was far too golden and the sky too far a bright blue. It should have been a miserable dark grey day. Even the birds dared to sing as he rode. His fingers itched to curl around a rock to throw at them.

His eyes stung again. For a moment the road in front of him blurred, and Lan scrubbed his sleeve against his face to clear his vision. He was not going to cry over this. It was not worth crying about. He was not hurt - there was not an endless gnawing ache in the center of him. All that hurt was the dull throbbing of his bruised cheek and that would pass with time.

After all this time, was he just a slave to Shun? How could he say those things to him? Lan remembered the first day he had seen Shun again. Shun singing with him as they rode to Yangnan. The hand-carved wooden tablets. A fifteen year old Shun scaling his father’s plum tree just because a thirteen year old Lan wanted the summer’s first plums. Shun who had hidden a half drowned kitten in his clothes because he couldn’t bear to see it die.

“You are my slave. Look at yourself. Did you think impersonating a freeman and running away could disguise what you are?”

If it was just those words, Lan would have refused to believe them. This was not - could not be - something that Shun would say to him and possibly mean. If Lan was just a slave to Shun, then Shun had plenty of time to enact the vengeance Lan deserved for humiliating him in front of the royal court.

Then - Shun had hit him.

Even when Lan had insulted him all those years ago, Shun had not raised a hand to Lan.

This - all just because Lan had taken it on himself to ride to Shun and try to make sure the other man did not end up dead.

Hot, angry, tears welled up again. Lan wiped the back of his hands against his face before they would spill over onto his cheeks. He was definitely not crying. Shun wanted to ignore Lan’s warnings and just treat him as a slave? Well, then he deserved to ride forward into a trap with no knowledge of the territory. If he died-Lan’s gut clenched. He clamped down on that thought. After what Shun said to him, he should not care if the man lived or died.

The road yawned ahead of him. “Ride to Yangnan and you can await your punishment there for when I return.” The memory forced an angry snort out of him. What would Yuzheng say if she knew her son had threatened such things? Lan closed his eyes and one hand slipped under his shirt to clasp the little jade pendant Prince Huiqing had gifted to him. Why should he even obey Shun’s orders, like a good little slave? Lan now looked like any other free man. He was now far away from the capital. He did not have to return to Yangnan. There were other options.

Come back to Xu with me, where we will be outside Jin’s laws and there, I will be able to grant your freedom.

Lan stopped. He stared at the road ahead and then nudged his horsearound. There was still Huiqing, and Xu, and the promise of freedom. It was time to start a different route

By the time the midday sun was beating down from overhead, Lan pulled his horse to a stop. He was not hungry but it made no sense to ride himself to the ground again after leaving Shun on his Master’s orders. Lan lead the horse to the cool of the shade and opened a saddle bag before he remembered. He had been so angry in the morning, and so ready to leave, that he had not bothered to bring any supplies with him.

“Stupid.” It was a least a day’s ride to Xu and Huiqing’s holdings. How stupid could he be? No food, no water - what was he thinking?

He turned and aimed a hard kick to the tree. The branches swayed and deposited leaves on his hair. Lan swore. How far was he from the nearest town? He did not have a map - and even if he did, he had no coin to purchase supplies.

Lan stalked back to his horse. “I am the world’s biggest idiot,” he said. The horse snorted in response. Lan made an impatient sound at the back of his throat. Clearly, even the horse agreed with his statement. Lan scowled and glanced at the saddle bag once again, then reached forward to fling it open and curse at it’s emptiness.

It was not empty.

Lan’s scowl faded into a frown as as he reached his hand forward. One by one the packages were removed. Packets of biscuits, well wrapped in cloth. Two filled flasks of water. Who had done such a thing? He did not know any of the other soldiers and Shun - Shun had been asleep when he had finally drifted off and was still snoring like a lazy beast when Lan had woken. Shun had been more than clear enough, anyway, that he did not care.

Lan opened the second saddlebag. No food in there, just a coarse cotton drawstring bag. Curious, Lan opened it - and gasped. Silver ingots tumbled out, glinting in the sunlight. A General’s ransom. It was enough for a simple man to use to start a new life.

Intermixed in the silver was a small scrap of paper. Lan picked it up and held it to the light. There were just two characters written there in Shun’s awkward hand. 失踪 To disappear…

Lan stared at it, unblinking as realisation unfurled in him. He crumpled the piece of paper and pulled the bag of silver as tightly closed as he could. He closed his eyes for a brief moment and shook his head before he moved to buckle both saddlebags. The sun was starting to dip to the west. He didn’t have much time.

Lan might be an idiot, but Shun was an absolute fool. Lan needed to go back to save his fool.

Another day’s ride and their evening’s encampment now looked upward and onto the track leading into the Hu-tiao pass. Shun tilted his head upwards, eyes following the track as he rubbed down his horse. It was exactly as Lan described. The pass seemed to emerge from a crack in the Hu-Shi mountain range. From where they were it appeared as if a simple goat could leap from one side of the pass to the other, never mind a tiger.

The rabble of soldiers he lead were setting up camp as best they knew. Shun could hear the soft sound of singing. For the few days ride here, Shun had not seen half of them shave. Some, he was sure, were too young to grow a beard. His hands clenched knuckle tight for a moment before he forced his fingers to loosen.

None of his men had noticed the small things that did not make sense. For all the supposed reports to the capital of bandit raids in the villages here, Shun had neither seen a shadow, nor heard the breath of one. The people of the villages he passed through looked curiously at the small group of men bearing the armour and seals of the capital, but when asked about attacks, no one knew anything.

Every person he asked made Shun’s heart sink more. It all just confirmed what he already knew. This was not just a simple expedition to hunt down a group of bandits. Was he leading these men into death, also?

Shun slipped silently past the campfires that were beginning to be lit. In the shadow of his tent, he drew the royal edict out of his pack again and laid it flat on the ground. The words had not changed. Shun let out a long breath. The beginning: it was addressed to Wei Shun to ride into the Tiao-hu pass. He traced a finger along the black brush strokes of characters. General Wei Shun, he read. Was there mention of other men - of a need to bring these innocent souls with him? He looked out into the emptiness of his tent. How would Lan interpret this command?

When the evening meal had been eaten, Shun called together the men under the flickering firelight. He had to bite the inside of his cheek when they finally joined together. Only twenty men and after five days of packing and unpacking camp, they still they did not seem to have the ability to form a line file.

It was no matter.

“Friends,” he said as he walked past, looking each man in the eye. “Tomorrow - the orders and the mission given to us is not what you think. I - I have recieved news. The threat here is not what it seems, the King himself wants you to travel back home - to your families. I will continue alone.”

A well disciplined group of men would have bowed and received the orders. This lot looked around to one another before one of them stepped forward in protest. It was Ah-Hai again. “What? But what about the bandits - and you, will you continue alone, General?”

Shun made of a show of grinding his teeth and raised an eyebrow. “Insolence!” he said and stomped a foot on the ground. “The King’s orders are final. To disobey is treason. Would you commit treason against your own country?”

The men in front of him were silent, They looked to one another - a few scratched their heads. Shun swallowed a sigh. “Tomorrow, when we break camp, you will ride with your supplies back to the capital - that is an order.” He glared at the men in front of him as hard as he could. One by one, they bowed their heads. “Yes, General.”

Shun held his rigid posture until he returned to his tent. it was only when the tent flaps rustled to a close behind himself that he allowed himself to slump onto his pallet. He tried to think back of the months prior, Lan’s warnings. What in the world had he done that this sort of royal order was necessary? He cradled his head in his hands.

So it had come to this. Tomorrow he would ride, and die, alone.

Goodbye, Lan.

Shun had at least half a day’s head start.On the back of his horse, Lan squeezed his eyes shut for a quick moment and thanked the Heavens and the Ancestors for the split decision to travel to Xu instead of Yangnan. At least he was on the right path. The afternoon faded to evening and then night. Would he reach there in time? Lan refused to think of the consequences if he did not.

The morning sun was just beginning to lighten the sky when the shadows of the mountains that heralded the Tiao-hu pass suddenly loomed out of the darkness before him.

Lan stopped on the he was riding on and looked down at the path that lead into the pass. One more hour of riding and he would be there - but where was Shun? His heart sank to the pit of his stomach. There was no sign of other men, no sign of an encampment. It had been a day and and a night since he had left Shun - was he too late? He whipped his head around and narrowed his eyes. Any sign - any trace that a small troop of men had been there -

There. In the distance, a lone rider heading toward the pass. Even at this distance, Lan could see the familiar breadth of Shun’s shoulders, the ramrod posture he held as he rode. He could not be mistaken.

Shun was still alive. He was not too late.

Nudging his horse into action, Lan raced forward.

“Shun.” He caught up with the man just as he entered the path that lead between the crack in the mountains.

Shun whirled around the in the saddle, eyes wide, mouth open. “Lan - what are you - what are you doing here?”

“I found your note.” Sheer granite towered around them. The pass stretched forward beyond them, eerily quiet. There was not even the sound of birdsong to disturb the morning peace. Lan peered up, trying to look for the caves he knew were hidden far above them. How many men could be hiding there?

“I told you to go and disappear,” Shun said with a shake of his head. He turned his horse around to face Lan.

Lan looked around. Shun was alone. He frowned and looked up at the other man. “Where is everyone else?”

“I am sure I gave more more than enough funds to travel somewhere else and not come back.”

Lan tilted his head up so his eyes met Shuns. “Where is everyone else?”

A muscle in Shun’s jaw twitched. “I sent them away,” he said.

An overwhelming urge to clobber Shun on the back of the head rose up in Lan. “You knew,” he said.

“Yes,” Shun said. “You should not have come back.”

“Do you really think that I would just let you ride to your death?”

“Then what - have you come to die with me?”

Lan opened his mouth to answer. There were other paths here, secret narrow tracks that lead through the mountain where two men could enter and easily vanish without a trace. He had needed to travel between Xu and Jin as a young diplomat - he knew the paths well. Why didn’t Shun just ask him?

Lan didn’t get a chance to say a single word. The skies suddenly opened in a rain of arrows.

“Lan.” Shun had his sword out. There was a clang as metal hit wood and the arrow that had been heading straight for Lan’s throat splintered in front of his face. Another clashes Shun managed to beat away two more arrows. He ducked himself down low on his horse as yet another arrow whistled past him. “Lan, get out of here!”

“No - Shun - I can get us to safety!”

There were passages close by. They were barely wide enough to fit a man and a horse in single file but the entrance would be well hidden by rockfall - perfect for their escape. The passage lead lead to a series of underground caves that paralleled the path of the pass, emerging into Xu. If these were hired mercenaries from outside the area, there was a good chance they would not know about it. If they did - well Lan and Shun were as good as dead, anyway.

Lan’s horse reared and he ducked to one side to avoid another arrow. Shun had managed to deflect another three with his sword but they were coming thick and fast. Lan reached forward and grabbed the reins of Shun’s horse. “This way.” Six paces to the right and they had almost neared the entrance.

“Lan - no,” Shun called. A hand suddenly reached out and grabbed fistful of Lan’s shirt from behind and shoved.

Lan toppled off his horse, landing awkwardly in the scrub at the side of the path. His horse screamed, and then a dull thud. Pain blossomed down his left side. Lan rolled forward before he was able to reach out an arm, grab hold of of clump of grass and stop himself from moving any more forwards. He pulled himself up.

Lan’s horse lay on its side, an arrow pierced through it’s neck. He looked beyond it - and his heart stopped.. Shun sat on his horse, slumped forward, two arrows protruding from his back. Lan ducked and ran foward, bent at the middle as more arrows whistled past them. It was with a shaking hand that Lan finally managed to reach out and grab the reins of Shun’s horse. Three steps and a squeeze through a hole barely the width of Shun’s horse and then they were plunged into darkness.

Beneath Lan’s hand, Shun was still warm. When he touched the other man’s back, his hands came away wet and sticky. In desperation, Lan groped for Shun’s wrist. A pulse. Thin and thready, but there was still a pulse there.

Lan let himself indulge in a quiet sob of relief. Shun was not dead.

Blood was steadily soaking into Shun’s back and dripping down his sleeve. The closest help would be Huiqing. It was at least half a day’s travel to Huiqing’s estate. Leaving the arrows in might bring infection but if Lan took the arrows out, Shun would bleed to death. Lan took a breath in and gave Shun’s hand a soft squeeze. He would leave the arrows in and take his chances. They needed to get to Xu as quickly as possible.

Chapter 20

Chapter Text

There was heat and darkness. Voices drifted in and out of Shun’s hearing. A dreadful burning pain seared through his back then faded into a dull and steady ache. Shun wanted to bring a hand up to massage it or at least hold the area but his arms and legs were too heavy. He was pinned down to a bed -- or was it to a board? In any case, he could not move.

Ghosts drifted past him; their voices strange, hollow, and alien. Cool china was pressed to his lips and bitter liquids forced down his throat. Hands came from the darkness to prod at the wound in the back of his shoulder. Their fingers were needle sharp. It felt as if they were stabbing him with little swords. Shun tried to twist away from them. He opened his mouth to cry out but no sound emerged.

Where was he?

Was he dead?

Which of the eighteen levels of hell had he come to for his purgatory? Why had he not passed by the Judge’s Hall on his way down here?

Shun was in a furnace. He burned. Sweat soaked his hair and rolled down his back in big fat droplets-

Shun was surrounded by ice. He froze with teeth-chattering cold. He tried to bring the blankets tighter around himself but his arms were still held down. Sweat - despite the cold - slid down his face and soaked into his clothes.

He was burning again.

When would it all stop?

A face flickered at the edge of his vision. Was it Lan, looking down on him? Shun was so, so tired but he gathered all his strength like a ball inside of him and tried to open his mouth. No sound. He squeezed his eyes shut and willed his arms to reach up. They would not obey him. He gasped, winded despite not having moved a muscle. When did someone take away his arms and given him back useless implements, full of lead?

There was a droplet of moisture that rolled down the side of his cheek.

Was Lan crying?

Lan - please don’t cry.

Lan, I’m sorry.

More voices. Something cool was pressed to his forehead. More bitter liquid. It burned as it poured down his throat. Someone was behind him, holding his head up. Lan’s voice. Lan’s voice was at his ear but Shun could not understand what he was saying. More warm wetness on his cheek.

Lan - Lan - how do I make you smile again?

Lan’s face faded into the blackness. It was all a dream. Lan was gone. Lan hated him.

The manors of Xu were different to those of Jin. Located in a far warmer climate, their courtyards were smaller, with long sloping roofs which covered them and gave some much needed shade from the hot sun. Small holes in the roof directly above the courtyards, called sky wells, allowed the rising hot air to dissipate and the cool air to flow in.

Unlike the pastels favoured by their Jin counterparts, the people of Xu prefered deep, rich colours, embroidered with silk and gold - influenced by the fabrics the Xiang people - nomadic travellers from the Western Kingdom - brought to their cities on occasion for trade. Very little was known beyond the mountains that framed the Western Kingdoms. There were always stories and rumours, of course. Some even believed that entire empires existed beyond the borders forced by those towering mountains.

Lan had walked with Shun, one hand guiding Shun’s horse, the other on the jade pendant that he had worn on a thong around his neck ever since Huiqing had gifted it to him. He could not lose it. It was Shun’s only hope of being able to live.

Lan had never thought he would be grateful for the maroon uniform that differentiated Generals from common soldiers. Shun’s sleeve crunched with dried blood by the time they left the caves. It was a good thing that Lan could not see it. He had given the other man’s hand a soft squeeze. Shun’s hand had never felt so cold before but the pulse - thready and weak - was still present. Lan had closed his eyes, sent another silent prayer to the Ancestors and continued onwards.

When the sight of the towering walls that surrounded Huiqing’s Ximen manor finally came into Lan’s line of sight, he was ready to collapse to the ground and cry. He walked to the gate, pounded on it to open - was was met by the points of half a dozen spears.

Slowly, Lan’s fingers had unfurled themselves from the piece of jade he wore. He held it to the light. Thin, translucent and impossibly white with three characters carved into it: 蔡惠慶 - Cai Huiqing - the Eighteenth Prince of Xu’s own personal name.

“I need to speak with your master - with Prince Huiqing.”

The effect was instantaneous. The fierce, armored men before him fell to their knees in unison just from the sight of that little token. Lan had been rushed in and Shun carted away. Messengers had been sent to find the physicians available.

Three days had passed since his arrival, and Shun looked no worse, but also no better. On the eve of the first day, he had spiked with a fever that waxed and waned. Every time he tossed and turned, Lan was terrified that Shun would split his wounds open. When his eyes opened they were fever fogged and without recognition. The words that he said made no sense.

Lan sighed as he leaned against the railing in the hallway that overlooked the central courtyard of Huiqing’s manor. He stared out at the pond that was the central centrepiece: at the cloud of swirling goldfish it contained.

Would Shun’s fever ever abate? Would he recover?

A voice interrupted his thoughts. “You look as if you have not slept for days. No - actually, I know you have not slept for days.”

Lan whirled around, dipping his back into a low bow. “Your Highness.”

Huiqing rolled his eyes. He clasped Lan’s elbows and helped him straighten back into standing position. “Have you eaten anything? I know that fasting and praying is meant to be placating to the Heavens, but you wasting away to nothing more than a shadow is not going to help things if the General recovers.”

If.

Lan flinched. It had been three days and all the physicians that Huiqing could summon had left Shun’s rooms shaking their heads and muttering to themselves. No matter the powders that were sprinkled onto Shun’s wounds, how much of those bitter concoctions they poured down Shun’s throat, or the hours of acupuncture that Shun endured, nothing had changed.

Huiqing sighed. From his sleeve he drew out a dark red fruit. “The season’s first plum. Summer comes a little earlier here than in Jin, although it’s not quite as sweet as you usually like them.” It was pressed into Lan’s hand. Of course Huiqing would remember what Lan’s favourite fruit was.

“Eat,” he looked searchingly at Lan’s face. “You know, when he wakes up, you’re not going to be enjoying each other’s company if your bony elbows and behind are going to be digging into him when you lie together.” He raised an eyebrow.

It forced a snort of laughter from Lan. He turned away and bit into the fruit. Tart juice with a hint of sweetness filled his mouth.

Huiqing walked beside Lan and leaned heavily against the railing that framed the raised walkway. He rested his chin on his palm. “I hope he returns your love.”

Lan turned away from Huiqing, looking into the the main courtyard. The multitude of fish in red, orange and yellow swam in the pond below. Under the golden rays of the afternoon sun, they made the water look as if it were on fire.

“He…” How to say it? “He has always loved me far more that I did him.”

It was a truth that needed to be said. A younger Lan had enjoyed Shun’s attentions but it was Shun who had always been utterly devoted to him - even past that day on the palace steps, it seemed, when Lan had taken Shun’s heart and handed it back to him in a thousand pieces.

“Does he know that you love him?”

“No.” They were just three little words. Shun had said it to him, albeit in a drunken stupor but never in their childhood, adolescence or now had Lan said it back. It had always been a hidden message behind sit down, I’m going to read to you, or I’m bored, let’s go to the markets together, even just the word idiot. Now Shun was tossing with fever in a darkened room, his wounds red and angry and the physicians could not say whether he would live or die. Did Shun know? Was he still able to understand what Lan said?

What if Shun died before Lan could tell him?

A hand touched his shoulder. “He will live, Cheng Lan,” Huiqing said. “I have heard many things about General Wei. The songs of his deeds have reached even the courts of Xu - his bravery, his valiance, his tactics. The man who managed to survive the Northern War and outwitted the Lord of Dali thrice in his own territory will not succumb to a few simple wounds.”

Lan nodded slowly. He let out a long sigh. “Thank you,” he said, wishing he could believe his friend. He turned to Huiqing. “How are things with your new husband?”It was Huiqing’s turn to snort softly. “I haven’t seen much of him,” he said and shrugged. “It is a marriage for the state and nothing more. We are fortunate that we both realise this. I have never had any ambitions for my father’s throne and marrying a man means that there is no pressure for either of us to produce children. It is not as if I do not know Prince Mingyu’s reputation. I believe he is forming quite the name for himself in the surrounding towns..”

Lan’s lip twitched at that statement. He gave the man beside him a slight nudge. “That is slightly dangerous, Highness. What if the two of you end up sharing a lover at some point?”

Huiqing rolled his eyes. “Oh for Heaven's sake, Lan - we both know how to be discreet! I haven’t heard reports of any unwanted pregnancies yet and both the males and females he has bedded don’t appear dissatisfied. As long as he is not prone to jealousy, we will both be fine.,” He smirked, “ Other than the brief time in Kejing for the marriage we have remained largely in Ximen. He has not met the households of my brothers just yet.”

It was Lan’s turn to roll his eyes. “I’m surprised you do not have a whole train of children following you from your affairs.”

Huiqing tossed his head back and laughed. “Well, I only have to be careful with the women, you know. There is an advantage with sleeping with men,” He glanced at Lan. “Speaking of sleeping - I was serious when I said that you looked like you have not for days.”

Lan scowled at Huiqing and moved away a step. “I don’t want to leave Shun.”

“You know he’s asleep most of the day, and I have a whole army of servants seeing to his every need. I mean it, Lan - what if, on the day he wakes up, he opens his eyes to see you crumple at his feet in exhaustion?”

Lan frowned. He looked at the pip of the plum he still held in his hand. He ran his thumb along it’s rigid length. “What if the fever breaks and he wakes up - and I’m not there?”

“If his fever breaks and he wakes up, it means that he is recovered and there will be plenty of time for you to see him.” Huiqing harrumphed and shook his head. “What sort of man is he that he would expect you do run yourself down like this waiting on him at every moment?”

Lan answered that with a shrug. Sleep away from Shun had been difficult even though his room was just down the hall. All food that he tried turned into ash in his mouth and he could not stomach more than a few bites before his stomach clamped down in protest. If Shun - if Shun saw him like this he would most likely yell at Lan for being a fool, and then try to cajole him into eating something.

“Look, if sleeping away from your lover is a problem, I can set up a cot for you in his room,” Huiqing said. “Just - Lan - sleep and eat? I certainly don’t want the good General Wei chasing me down the corridor with his legendary spear when he wakes and finds that his love has melted into a bag of skin and flesh.”

Lan looked at at Huiqing’s face. The words were spoken sincere and true - there was no teasing or mockery there. He nodded slowly. “Alright - I’ll try,” he said.

Huiqing’s hand clasped his shoulder again. “Good,” he said and gave Lan’s shoulder a soft squeeze. “I will make the arrangements.”

Lan managed to answer that with a wan smile before turning his stare back to the the fish that swam and swirled in the pond in the courtyard. When would Shun wake up? Would he ever do so?

The burning heat and sweat that soaked his sheets faded into a comfortable warmth. It no longer hurt so much when the strangers came to move him. The bitter liquids that were tipped down his throat changed into something with a hint of sweetness. His arms grew less leaden and the darkness that surrounded him grew lighter. Was he moving into a new part of hell?

Sometimes, Lan’s face would still appear in front of him but it would disappear before Shun could lift an arm and touch it.

Lan. Shun remembered now. He had sent Lan somewhere safe. Lan could not possibly be here. Lan could not be dead too.

There was a creaking sound above his head and a cool breeze rushed past his face. A chattering of voices floated past.

Shun opened his eyes.

“Oh! You’re awake!”

If this was hell it looked strangely like the mortal world. He was in a room, in a bed. The curtains that surrounded the bed were dyed a deep purple and the quilt tucked around his arms was the blue of sapphires. He could hear birdsong outside.

Where was he?

Shun’s head turned to the source of the voice who spoke. A young maid dressed in deep pink, her hair pinned up in the two buns on either side often favoured by servant girls. She carried a plate with five shiny deep red plums.

“What - where - ”

The servant girl set down the plate and walked to his side. She laid a finger on her lips. “I’ll let the senior physician know that you are awake,” she said. “But please - our master’s young friend has just fallen asleep.”

Shun’s eyes followed her gaze to the corner of the room. There, on a simple cot, Lan lay. His hair was undone and the long black locks spilled across his pillow. He looked so pale. His chest rose and fell with the slow breaths of sleep.

The servant girl curtsied and moved away, but Shun did not even notice. His eyes could not leave Lan’s sleeping face. It had not been all a dream. It was true. Lan was here and, it seemed, they were both still alive.

It was as if Lan knew he was being watched. He stirred, turned over, and then yawned, sitting up and rubbing at his eyes. “What - what time is it?” He muttered under his breath before he lifted his head up and met Shun’s eyes. Lan’s eyes grew impossibly wide.

“Shun.”

Before Shun knew it, Lan had crossed the room and was at his side. “Shun you are awake.”

Lan had lost weight. His face was pale and his skin taught, as if too tightly stretched across the points of his cheekbones. A frown marred his forehead. Shun managed to raise a heavy arm to touch the other man’s cheek.

“Lan,” He said. It seemed that in the time he lay asleep his tongue had also grown thick and heavy and difficult to control. “Lan, I’m sorry.” His thumb traced the side of Lan’s cheek where he had struck him,although there was no longer a mark to tell what had been done.

Lan raised his hand to cup Shun’s. His long, elegant, musician’s fingers curled around Shun’s own thick and clumsy ones. They were cool to the touch as Lan’s hands always were.

“Shun….” Were they tears that were welling up in Lan’s eyes? Shun shook his head. What had he said - or done - to make Lan cry? The memories flooded into his mind. What hadn’t he said?

“Shun - Shun it’s alright, I know what your meaning was.”

“N- no,” If only his mouth wasn’t so dry and his tongue so fat and stupid! He had to make Lan understand. “I said some - horrible things to you. Lan. I’m sorry. I hit you. I’m -”

Cool fingers closed over his mouth. Lan scrubbed an arm over his face and shook his head furiously. “You have nothing to be sorry for. You were just trying to protect me right?”

Shun looked up at Lan’s face. He wanted to run his fingers through the other’s hair but his arm was growing so heavy he was forced to drop it to his side. Slowly, Lan’s fingers left his mouth.

“Lan - do you hate me?”

Lan’s eyes widened and then he was on top of Shun, arms curled around him, his head tucked under Shun’s cheek. “No - no, Shun, I could never hate you. I - I....” Relief flooded Shun. Lan was still speaking but Shun could not hear what was being said. He could feel the warmth of the other man’s body against his and that was all that it mattered. Lan was safe. He let his eyelids droop closed and the darkness embraced him.

He wasn’t sure whether the next words were truly spoken by Lan or part of a new dream.

“I love you, Shun. I love you, I have always loved you and I am sorry that I did not say this sooner.”

A memory floated past him. Mid autumn festival. Shun’s fifteenth autumn and Lan’s thirteenth. Two pieces of mooncake wrapped hastily in a silk handkerchief and pressed into Shun’s hand. Lan’s face, bright red. “I - I don’t like mooncake, Shun. You eat this for me instead.” It was lotus seed mooncake. Shun’s brow had furrowed. “Isn’t this your favourite?” Lan’s responding scowl had been darker than a stormcloud.

Shun could feel the softness of Lan’s hair spilling across across his chest into his palm.

When the sky had turned dark with the rain of arrows, and Shun had thought himself alone, he had turned and round Lan had been - impossibly - there. Even when he had been sent to be in safety, far away.

Shun’s fingers closed around Lan’s hair. He curved his lips into a soft smile. Of course you always have.

Lan lay with his head down on Shun’s chest for long moments after the other man had drifted back to sleep. His heart felt so swollen, it felt as if it would burst. Elation bubbled through him. He wanted to run down the halls of Huiqing’s manor yelling and telling everyone he met that Shun was awake. He wanted to run to the physician’s rooms and grab them by their arms and pull them in here to check on his Shun. He wanted to interrupt Huiqing at his barracks and drag him back here, point to Shun and say - see? - Shun was awake!

If he left Shun, though, would everything change? Was this a dream or some sort of strange hallucination he had from lack of sleep?

Shun’s heartbeat was loud in Lan’s ear and his hand was still curled around a lock of Lan’s hair. Every now and then, a finger twitched as if it was stroking the soft strands. No,this was not a dream. Shun had really woken up. It had been two days since his last fever and the physicians said that his wounds appeared as if they were healing well. Shun was recovering. He was going to survive.

Lan yawned. His limbs and eyelids felt strangely heavy. The way Shun’s chest rose and fell under his cheek was soothing. He let his eyes drift close for a moment. Just one more moment to stay here and be with Shun.

Lan fell asleep.

Chapter 21

Chapter Text

By the end of a week in bed, Shun no longer cared about how much the physicians of Xu frowned, or Lan glared and implored - he was not spending a moment longer in bed. The wounds had closed over nicely by all accounts and as long as Shun was careful not to overstretch his arm or the skin of his back, the pain was minimal. As long as he was careful. Shun knew he wasn’t ready to start drill training - not yet, anyway.

Shun had been very fortunate to escape with as little injury as he had. They had not told him directly, but he knew he had lain in bed in the first few days days too heavy limbed and light headed to move. Two arrows in the back. One had penetrated at the top of his shoulder where his armour just fell short, stopped only by the presence of his shoulder blade. The other’s path had been slowed by the presence of steel plate and came to rest just under the eight rib. A hair’s breadth further and it would have entered his lung. The arrow had nicked the bundle of blood vessels that ran directly underneath each rib and Shun had bled steadily every step of the way to Xu. Lan’s decision to leave the arrows in had likely saved his life.

Shun closed his eyes and let himself take in a deep breath of the heavy morning air. When the first rays of light had finally appeared that morning, they revealed a world shrouded by pale grey. Shun was out in the main walkway. He should have been able to look past the railing into the central courtyard but all he could see was swirling mist. The infamous Xu fog. Still, it was better than being confined to a bed.

“Ahh - I see why Lan asked me to remind you of your health the next time I saw you,” A voice drifted towards him from the greyness before the outline of Prince Huiqing appeared in front of him in the walkway. “I’m surprised he has not tied you down to the bed. Good morning, General.”

Shun turned and bowed. “Good morning, Your Highness.”

Huiqing inclined his head and smiled. “I’m surprised to see you out of bed - and so early in the morning, General. Last I heard you were recommended another week of bed rest?”

Shun did not realise had pulled a face until Huiqing laughed.

“I don’t think I would be able to spend two weeks in bed either, General,” Huiqing said and then looked around. “Is Lan still in bed?” He grinned and shook his head, “He was never an early riser.”

Shun stiffened. Lan had never actually confirmed it but it was hard to ignore the familiarity this foreign prince used to referred to Lan. This was more than just a friendship between a visiting young diplomat and a prince. “He enjoyed the plums you sent,” he said.

Huiqing raised an eyebrow and shrugged. “Well, they are, as you know, his favourite fruit.”

The nonchalance in Huiqing’s answer made a muscle tic in Shun’s jaw. He said - slowly, “I see that you also import tea from Rong, here. Tie guan yin.”

Huiqing’s smile was all teeth. “Mount Wudang in Rong does grow the some of the finest tea in the Four Kingdoms. What sort of friend would I be if I forgot Cheng Lan’s favourite type of tea?”

Shun scowled before he remembered that it was Huiqing’s kindness and hospitality that both he and Lan now depended on. He turned away and tried to school his features into a more suitable expression. His hands were clenched into fists behind his back. “I am glad the two of you are such close friends.”

There was silence behind him for a moment. Shun frowned. Had he truly offended this Prince of Xu? Then - a snort followed by a hoot and what sounded like...laughter? Shun spun back around. Prince Huiqing, the eighteenth Prince of Xu, was bent forward at the waist, face red, one hand leaning on a railing. His whole body shook with peals of laughter.

“What - ”

Huiqing held up a hand. It took a few gasps before he managed to get out, “Yo-you-your expression. Your expression.” He broke off, shaking his head before pulling himself back up to stand. “Oh - my dear General - how much has Lan said to you of me?”

It was Shun’s turn to shrug - stiffly, “He has said that you are a good friend.”

Huiqing wiped his eyes with the back of his sleeve and nodded, face still tinged with pink. “Yes, I do consider him as a good friend.”

A good friend. Shun’s eyebrow quirked. “Nothing more than that?”

Huiqing smirked. “What do you mean by that, General?”

Shun ground his teeth together. “He refers to you without formality and title.”

The smile spread across Huiqing’s face. “Oh...does he now? Well, it is good to know that he listens to my suggestions from time to time.”

“It is a rather intimate form of address.”

“Intimate….?” Huiqing paused. His lips twisted into a smirk again and he co*cked his head to the side as he regarded Shun. “Are you asking, General, if we were lovers?”

Shun snorted and looked away into the distant mist with another shrug. He winced as his shoulder twinged. Was this a question that he wanted to know the answer to?

Huiqing moved next to him, leaning forward on the railing. “I first met Cheng Lan late at night on Orchard Street in Kejing. It is an area very well known for its….houses of entertainment,” He huffed a small laugh. “Lan had so much to drink, his face was glowing as red as the lanterns that were lit outside nearly every establishment. He came towards me, out of the darkness, and tripped on the pavement. When he fell on top of me there was only one name on his lips - ‘Shun’.”

Shun stiffened. “What -”

Huiqing held up a finger. “Lan never mentioned the name again. It was not until much later that I found out about a certain Lieutenant who had disappeared without a word for two years and then one day returned seemingly from the dead as a Captain.” He huffed and smiled, “So - have we been intimate? We lay together, yes, but at the time we both knew that our hearts already belonged to someone else. His, I gathered, belonged to a certain captain that he was convinced was lost to him forever.”

Shun’s face flushed. He shook his head. “I don’t understand,” he said finally. “He - he was that upset? He was the one who said no.”

The mist was lifting now. The sun’s rays sliced through the dense greyness and Shun could see the beginnings of the faint outline of a pond and a small bridge over it. Huiqing leaned over and patted his arm.

“The two of you haven’t spoken about it yet? You should ask him - once he wakes up. You may have much to speak about. I’m sure things aren’t quite what you thought.”

Shun frowned and turned, “How do you know this for sure?” But the Prince was already gone, his back a shifting shadow in the fading mist.

Lan slowly emerged from the black warmth of sleep. Something - someone was tapping in the distance. He groaned, turned over, and tried to bury his head into the pillow. What time was it? Who would be so cruel as to be knocking on their door so early in the morning?

Calling Shun’s name to see who was at the door was on the tip of his tongue before Lan remembered that Shun was injured and should keep to his bed as much as possible. He groaned again and reached out next to him for the familiar warmth of the other man, anyway. His hand met nothing but cold air.

Shun - ?

Shun’s blanket had been flung aside and, other than the rumpled sheets, there was no sign of his presence in the room. The incessant tapping outside the door continued. Lan groaned and rubbed a hand over his eyes. Of course Shun would use his advantage as a morning person and slip out before Lan could notice or protest.

He dragged himself up and managed to find a tie for his hair and a robe to pull around his bedclothes before he opened the door. “Yes - yes I’m coming.” Lan knew he was really only half decent but any servant who was banging on their door so early in the morning would just have to cope. He flung the doors open - and his eyes widened.

It was not a simple servant who was standing outside his door. There was only one man in this household who would require a wool cloak despite the fact that they were well onto their way to summer.

“Your - Your Highness.”

All the members of the royal family of Jin were slim and slight in their build but the Ninth Prince, Mingyu, looked gaunt. His pale, translucent skin was stretched tight over a pair of razor sharp cheekbones. Dark circles marred the skin underneath his heavy set eyes. Despite the warmth of the late Spring morning, he kept the thin wool cloak wrapped tightly around himself. Lan could see only a glimpse of pale, thin, fingers.

“Good morning, Cheng Lan.” Mingyu’s smile was faint as he inclined his head. “May I step inside? The morning is rather cold.”

Lan made sure to close the doors behind himself as the prince entered and sat down at their table. What was Mingyu doing here? The Ninth Prince’s reputation - the Wastrel Prince - was known so well it had even filtered down to the slave keepers.

In some ways, Prince Mingyu’s drinking habits and his long string of lovers were well matched to Huiqing’s own preferences for entertainment. The difference was that Huiqing spent most of the year with his men defending Xu’s northeast borders. Prince Mingyu’s childhood illness had left his lungs weak and unable to cope with heavy exertion. It was unlikely that the prince had ever picked up a sword or a bow in his life. He had never shown any interest for matters of court - it was well known he preferred the gambling dens.

Lan reached to pour them both a cup of tea.

Mingyu waved for Lan to sit. “I understand you know about my brother.” He said.

Lan’s heart skipped a beat. He carefully schooled his features into a frown. “I don’t know what you are talking about.”

Ming-yu leaned forward and took a sip of tea. “I did not know that we had tea from Rong here,” He said. “Tie guan yin. My Fifth Brother, Mingsong, likes this too.” He smiled. “Did he offer it to you when you visited his apartments?”

Lan had his cup of tea halfway to his lips. He set it down carefully. “The Fifth Prince keeps pigeons,” he said. “He told me that it was a hobby that his mother practiced. I understand that Your Highness and he shared the same mother.”

Mingyu smiled, “Mother did keep pigeons and I rather liked them when I was growing up,” he said, “Although, not as many as my husband and his men keep. This business of having pigeons as pets seems rather popular in Xu.”

Lan’s fingers played at the cup of tea on the table. He turned it slowly. “So you know about the pine trees, then?”

“My father named my Fifth brother. My mother always said that his name spoke of the pines on the Huangshan Mountains whose peaks reach beyond the clouds,” Mingyu drew his arm a little further out of his sleeve. Lan blinked. The copper silk sleeve was embroidered with an edging of pine trees.

Mingyu’s smile widened. “It was only natural that once he had amassed enough support, that this could be a symbol of solidarity to find others similarly inclined.”

Lan sucked in a breath and turned away. “What I don’t understand is - how is it that the king and the Grand Duke do not know.”

“My eldest brother?” Mingyu snorted, “The king, Ming Wang - my eldest brother - could never see the things that were not out in front of his face - and even then... he does what he is told. As for my uncle - he knows, of course. It is the only reason why my Fifth Brother is still under house arrest and not dead. He can see all of those who bear the pine tree motif and he knows what he risks if he hurts the Fifth Prince.”

Lan whipped his head around, eyes incredulous. “So then why doesn’t he do anything, then - when Jin is being torn apart by excessive taxes and civil unrest?”

“You don’t understand,” Mingyu sighed, “My eldest brother was king but we all grew up together as brothers. We were all just boys, once.” His fingers tapped the table briefly, then stilled. “As long as my eldest brother is alive, my Fifth Brother will not mobilise his supporters.”

“Your uncle killed the Second Prince! He framed him for treason and then had him executed.”

“My second brother, Mingan, was always too impulsive. We - we tried to tell him that he needed to keep some of his opinions to himself. I am sorry that your family were caught up in it.”

Lan’s breath choked for a moment in his throat. He closed his eyes and then opened them again. It had just been a simple conversation, overheard. “I am sorry, too,” he said. “But how -”

Mingyu’s eyes met Lan’s. His chuckle became a laugh, which morphed into a fit of coughing that shook his shoulders. He leaned heavily on the table and sucked a breath into his body with a loud wheeze, before pulling out a handkerchief and pressing it to his lips. By the time it stopped, Mingyu’s chest heaved with the effort of breathing and his face was a bright red. He reached out a shaking hand and swallowed a mouthful of tea. “You - you are wondering why I know - I am, after all, the Wastrel Prince,” he said. “But, being confined to bed all winter leaves oneself a long time to read, and to think.”

Lan let a a long breath and moved to refill Mingyu’s cup of tea. “So you are a part of all of this too?”

Minyu shook his head. “Me? No - there is a reason why I have my reputation, and besides, I am a coward, Cheng Lan. I have but one ambition in life: to live at least another eleven years - until I see thirty summers. Unfortunately, ambition in Jin’s court for a Prince is usually not compatible with a long life,” he smiled ruefully and motioned to himself, “Now that I have moved to Xu this may actually be an achievable goal. The winters of Xu not as harsh as the winters of Jin, I believe.”

“Then why are you here?”

“I am here - ” Mingyu’s lip quirked, “To ask you a question as one last favour to my brother. What is your stand in all of this? My uncle, it seems, thinks your General enough of a threat to send him into a valley with a hundred arrows trained onto him - all because of his relationship with you.”

Lan’s fingers tightened around his teacup. He thought of his father, his brothers, their wives and children buried under an unmarked convict’s grave. Their deaths, neglected. What was the fate of their souls as they journeyed through the eighteen levels of hell into the next life? If he could only clear his father’s name and be able to honor them in the open. What would his father think if he knew about the taxes, and the riots? How much longer could Jin hold on?

Then, there was Shun. Shun who had bought books on agriculture and irrigation because he wanted to help the villages of Yangnan, even though he hated reading. Shun who had not yet understood the undercurrents in Jin’s Court. Shun who had been sent into a trap just because he cared for Lan.

If Lan were to become more involved again - how much more danger would he plunge Shun into?

Shun’s mother, Yuzheng, had asked Lan to call her ‘ah-yi’ even though Lan had been convicted of treason and was now Shun’s slave. Yuzheng was waiting back in Yangnan for them. Would these events also put her at risk?

Lan let out a long breath. “I am afraid, I, too, am a coward,” he said. “I do not think I can wait until your brother, the Fifth Prince, is ready to move. Shun’s mother is in Yangnan and may very well be in danger. We need to find her first and then - disappear.”

Mingyu nodded and then raised his cup of tea as if it was full of wine. “To cowards, then,” he said.

Lan raised his in return and together they tipped their head back and let the the scalding hot liquid run down their throats.

Footsteps sounded outside the door. “Lan?” Shun’s voice could be heard in the distance. Mingyu rose to his feet and Lan followed.

“It is time for me to take my leave, Cheng Lan,” he inclined his head and then added, “Please - do not tell my husband about these things that I know. I much, much, prefer to be simple Mingyu who is more interested in f*cking and wine than anything else.”

The bedroom doors slid open and Shun’s figure appeared at the doorway.

“Good morning, General,” Prince Mingyu ducked his head and slid through the doors, out into the fading morning mist. A frown flickered across Shun’s face but it melted as his eyes turned towards Lan. “It’s early for you to be awake. Why was the Ninth Prince here?”

Lan looked for a moment out into the foggy distance. When he turned to Shun, he made sure it was with a smile. “I think he just misses Jin,” he said softly and then reached out a hand for the other. His fingers looped around Shun and he pulled the other man to himself. “You left early. You shouldn’t be exerting yourself like this.”

Shun snorted and rolled his eyes. “I am fine,” He hooked a finger under Lan’s chin and tilted his face up. Lan poked a hard finger into Shun’s chest.

"You had better be - or at least not complain that the wounds hurt months later because you didn’t rest properly.”

Shun’s chuckle vibrated through his chest. Lan leaned his head against it and closed his eyes. He could feel Shun’s fingers slide through his hair.

“I spoke to Prince Huiqing this morning.”

Lan stiffened. His fingers tightened around the cloth of Shun’s hanfu. A thousand things that Huiqing could possibly have said flashed through his mind. “Did you?”

“He said that the two of you were lovers.”

“Yes.” Where was this going?

“He said that you were rather upset when you first met. That you were drunk, you fell on top of him, and then you said my name.”

Lan’s face burned. He pushed himself away from Shun and stumbled backwards. He couldn't meet Shun’s eyes.“That might have happened,” he said. He remembered walking into an inn and demanding the strongest baijiu wine they had. He remembered saying Shun’s name - crying - and when he had woken, Huiqing had been beside him.

“Why - if you cared about me then, why say no?”

“I have always cared for you,” Lan eyes snapped up and he took a step forward. “You have the same memories I do - you know that I cared for you.”

Shun’s eyes flickered down to hold Lan’s gaze. “Then why say those things to me, Lan? A simple yes would have been enough.”

Lan’s breath hiss as he drew it in. A simple yes. If only if it had been so simple.

“You - you left me when I was sixteen. You left for war with the other soldiers as a first rank lieutenant in your shining new armor - and I did not hear back from you for two years.”

“I was in battle!”

“It was two whole years, Shun! “ Lan shook his head. “What was I supposed to think?”

Shun’s jaw tightened. “I said that I would return. Have I ever broken my word to you?”

“You promised to write!”

“It is hard to write when I am trying to stay alive - for you!”

Lan closed his eyes. He clenched and unclenched his fingers. “Do you remember Xiao Hu - the son of father’s steward?” His chest heaved as he took a breath in. “He wanted to fight - he enlisted. He rode out with you.” A pause. Lan’s breath out was loud in the silence. “A year later, a bloody dog tag bearing his name was delivered to his parents. The news killed his mother.” The words hung in the air for a moment.

Lan whirled away from Shun and tried to blink the sting from his eyes. “I thought you had died, too.” He failed to keep his voice from cracking.

“...Lan?” Shun’s fingers closed around his wrist but Lan wrenched his hand from the other’s grasp. He pushed against Shun’s chest - hard enough that the larger man was forced to take a step back.

“You - you promised to write.” His voice was so soft, Lan could barely hear himself.

“Lan. Lan - I - I tried, but it was hard and then the days and months blended together - ”

“-so you suddenly appeared out of the blue two years later, smiling and glorious with your new rank of captain as if nothing had changed?” Lan’s head snapped back around. He glared. “I had changed, Shun. I had moved on. Was I meant to take you back and go through all that pain again?”

“Lan…”

Lan turned away and scrubbed his hand across his eyes. He was surprised when it came away wet. “It hurt too much the first time. ” It was not supposed to hurt even more after Shun had walked away.

Warm arms encircled him. He could feel the softness of Shun’s cheek against his own. “I’m sorry,’ He could feel the warmth of Shun’s breath as it ghosted past his ear. “I didn’t meant to hurt you so. I’m sorry - it was all my fault, wasn’t it?”

Lan couldn’t answer. He felt Shun’s shoulders rise and sag as he sighed.

“You...you don’t want this anymore, do you?” Shun started to pull away. Lan grabbed at Shun’s arms and pulled him back.

“No - you idiot.” One hand closed over a fistful of the Shun’s shirt, The other pounded into Shun’s chest. “I meant what I said to you.”

“What?”

Lan yanked Shun’s face down until they were eye to eye. “I love you.” He said, and then again - “I love you.” Lan reached up and cupped Shun’s face. “You didn’t stand there and move my lips and force me to yell those words at you. You did not deserve that.”

Shun leaned down. A wide smile had broken across his face. His thumb braced against Lan’s cheek and then his lips met Lan’s. Lan leaned forward onto his tip toes. His fingers curled into the softness of Shun’s hanfu. Shun’s scent flood his nose - grassy musk, as his tongue brushed past his own. Lan felt the groan vibrate down Shun’s throat to Lan’s fingertips that were still resting on Shun’s chest.

They were half breathless when they pulled apart. Lan looked up. Shun’s eyes met his, soft and brown. His cheeks were slightly flushed, mouth open. The front of his hanfu was wrinkled where Lan’s fingers hand crumpled it. A wild impulse rose up in Lan. He gave Shun a push backwards. “The bed.”

Shun blinked owlishly at Lan’s words. “What? Lan - are you - are you sure?”

Lan entwined his fingers in Shun’s hand and gave it a determined yank. “Bed.”

“But after - after last time.”

Lan turned around. “I thought you died, and you thought I had died - and just then - you nearly died. I am not going to wait until one of us truly leaves for the King of Judgement before we f*ck.”Shun’s eyes widened comically. Wordlessly, he allowed himself to be pulled to their bed and pushed down against it.

Lan’s fingers pulled at the ties that held the other man’s robes closed. “No moving,” he said, and he leaned down to kiss and lap at the hint of collarbone that was exposed. “I don’t want to risk re opening your wounds.”

Shun reached up. With a tug, the tie holding his hair back came undone and Lan’s hair cascaded down his shoulders. Another tug and the robe Lan had haphazardly thrown on came undone. The late spring air was still cool against the skin of his chest. Lan smirked and reached for Shun’s top knot. He wanted to feel the other’s silken strands through his fingers.

“So I just lie here and enjoy it?”

Lan nipped Shun’s bottom lip. “You’re the injured invalid,” he said. “So you lie back and let me do all the work.”

Shun raised an eyebrow and allowed Lan’s hands to press his shoulders down on the bed. Shun’s skin was soft under his fingers, and Lan traced out the line of a scar that crossed a pectoral muscle down the to Shun’s sternum and then another at his side.

“See? This becoming wounded business is nothing new.”

Lan placed two fingers over Shun’s lips to shut him up. “We are not talking about you being wounded right now,” he said. He slid his fingers down and traced a path across the hardened planes of Shun’s abdomen and then gave the other man’s erection a long, hard stroke.

Shun gasped. His fingers grazed Lan’s cheek and then moved down his arm. They brushed the edge of the hated tattoo. Lan jerked. His hand flew up over Shun’s.

“Lan,” Shun said.

Lan entwined his fingers through the Shun’s hand. Shun gave it a soft squeeze.

“I never thought - ”

Lan brought the back of Shun’s hand to his lips and then laid it down next to them. He leaned forward, a thrill of pleasure as his own length rubbed against the other’s - and brushed a strand of hair from Shun’s forehead.

“I know.” He said. Shun’s lips twitched then Lan was being pulled down. Shun’s arms were around his neck and he was suddenly pressed against the other man, chest against chest. He could feel Shun’s erection against his thigh. The softness of Shun’s lips was odd against the scrape of day old stubble. Shun, Lan thought tasted of a Xu morning - musky and heavy and yet fresh, all at the same time. His nose bumped against the other’s as they broke apart.

“I love you too,” Shun said.

Lan rolled his eyes and huffed against Shun’s cheek. “I know.” he said, “Idiot.” His teeth grazed the edge of the other’s jaw before his lips reached Shun’s ear. “Now, now more moving,” he whispered. “My Lord General isn’t allowed to over exert himself.” A soft snort of laughter was Shun’s only response.

Lan grinned and slid back across Shun’s body, kneeling back onto his heels as he straddled Shun. Two oil slicked fingers plunged inside himself for preparation and Lan was lowering himself on top of the other. He looked up and met Shun’s eyes as they watched him, pupils slowly darkened in the morning light. When Shun was inside and buried to the hilt, they both groaned - a soft outlet of breath - all at same time.

It was like this, the first time and Lan’s chest swelled with the memory of it.

Lan raised himself up, then back down and hissed at pleasure of the the burn. Shun’s answer was a low groan. He shifted under Lan’s body - a subtle clenching and unclenching of muscle. Lan stopped. He pressed his fingers a little harder against Shun’s shoulder - enough to get the other man’s attention.

“What did I say about moving?”

“Lan - “ Lan smirked. There was definitely a whine at the end of that word.

“What did I say?”

Shun scowled up at him. Lan trailed his fingers down the Shun’s jaw and over his lips. “I don’t want you getting hurt.”

The scowl darkened. “Then get on with it before I explode.”

Lan laughed. He leaned down and stole another kiss. It may have been years since their bodies had known each other, but they still fit just as well. Lan’s his co*ck bobbed, red and tight as he moved and Shun slid in and out of him again.When Shun tried to tilt his hips and buck under him, Lan pressed fingers down against the other man’s jaw. “No.”

Shun rolled his eyes and then took Lan’s hand again, but the rest of his body stilled. Skin tingled where they touched. Lan grinned and shifted slightly - just a little change in the angle - and started moving again.

“Shun - ” he couldn’t hold back that half gasp, half moan at the sensation of it all. Beneath him, he could see the way that Shun’s muscles rippled and shook with the effort of keeping himself still. Lan splayed his fingers across Shun’s chest. His thumb brushed a nipple.

“- tease - ” A word strangled out of Shun’s throat.

Lan moved his hips a little faster. He could feel his fingers press down through the softness of Shun’s skin into the hard muscle. Shun groaned again and reached a hand out. When Shun’s fingers curled around his length and gave it a slight tug, Lan couldn’t help the gasp of pleasure that was wrung out of him.

“Ah - Ah-Shun.”

“Lan,” Shun said. Lan could feel Shun’s hands around at his hips, his thigh. Sweat slid down his back. Lan tossed his head back as pleasure lanced through him with each shift and each movement as they moved together towards the peak. When the explosion came, it was theirs at the same time: white and hot. A tug at Lan’s arm and he fell onto Shun’s chest. They gasped their names into each other’s lips.

Later, when the sweat had evaporated off their bodies and their spending had cooled on each other’s bodies, Lan opened his eyes and stroked a finger down Shun’s chest.

“What do you want to do next?”

“Nggh?” Shun opened one eye. “Do you want me to clean us up? Or go again?”

Lan rolled his eyes and huffed a small laugh into Shun’s chest. One of them really should get up, get a towel and moisten it… “I meant, about - the situation. Your mother is still in Jin but I don’t think the Capital will be friendly if we were to return.” He kissed the roughness of the other man’s jaw. “We should find her at least.”

Shun’s eyes were closed but his body was stiff under Lan’s hand. Lan nuzzled the hollow just above Shun’s collarbone. He should have waited - but this was a decision that he had to have.

“What do you think we should do?”

Lan pressed his cheek against’ Shun’s chest and listened to the heartbeat there for a few moments before answering. “You were sent into a trap meant to kill you. Reporting back to the Capital would be suicide. Yangnan, though, is three days ride from the capital. We could return there unnoticed, find your mother and…” He closed his eyes and remembered that scrap of paper buried within a bag of silver. “We could just - disappear.”

It was not a hero’s choice, but Lan had chosen once to be a hero and then lived the consequences for four long years. He held his breath and waited for Shun to answer.

Finally - “If it is what you want - if it is what you think is best.” Lan opened his eyes. Shun was gazing down on him, wide eyed and trusting. Shun had never ever truly refused any of Lan’s requests. Not when they were children, not even when Lan was Shun’s slave. Lan forced a smile on his face and pecked Shun’s cheek.

“It is a plan, then. We can leave when the physicians deem you safe to ride.”

Shun rolled his eyes and snorted. “If they ever do.” He shrugged and threaded his fingers through Lan’s hair. A tingle of pleasure went down Lan’s spine as Shun’s fingers ghosted over his scalp. “I think I will be alright in a week. You are right about my mother - we should make sure she is safe.”

Lan closed his eyes again and nodded, pressing his face into the other's chest. A week was a long time. The physicians were pleased with Shun’s progress. There was no need to pick fights when Shun didn’t press him for why. One week to prepare, then to ride to Yangnan, find Yuzheng, and they could leave and forget the troubles of Jin.

Chapter 22: Epilogue

Chapter Text

The morning they were to leave was one of the rare, clear, blue-skied mornings of Xu where not even a cloud could be seen. It was a good omen, Lan thought as he pulled himself up onto his horse. Perhaps it meant that their path would be clear from now on.

In the last week, Shun had not shaved and he was already sporting the beginnings of a beard. It softened the squareness of his jaw somewhat and made him look older - a little less recognisable. Shun kept his down, tied away from his face with a simple piece of leather. When Lan had moved to braid his hair that morning Shun had scowled at him. “If we are going to disappear anyway, I’m not having you along with me as my slave.”

He was right. The King may well be on the the lookout for a man and his slave. The words though, coming from Shun’s mouth, created a warm fluttering sensation inside Lan that was present even now. He had smiled back at Shun’s scowl and tied his hair back up into a rough topknot. The clothes they wore were of rough cotton. They were two simple travellers and nothing more.

“The offer to stay here still stands.” It was decided that their departure would not be widely announced. Huiqing was the only one who had come to see them off. He crossed his arms as he looked up at Lan. “You could take a different name. The Civil Service Examinations will be open again this autumn - I am sure you would be able to pass them.”

Lan glanced at Shun. The temptation rose up in him and he squashed it immediately. Lan shook his head. “We need to make sure that the Lady Yuzheng is safe first,” he said, “I - I will find a way to send word when we are safe.”

Huiqing frowned. “You take care of him,” he said to Shun. “Keep him safe and out of trouble.”

Lan rolled his eyes at that. “I am not a child,” he said to both men and shook his head. “We will keep each other safe.”

Shun smiled, “I will protect - ow,” He scowled at Lan when he was jabbed in the side. “We will protect each other,” he finished. He was rewarded with a flash of Lan’s grin.

“Well, goodspeed and a safe journey to you then,” Huiqing said, with a small bow. Lan smiled and clicked his teeth. He waved as he urged his horse into action.

“ Wait .”

Lan looked up. Coming down the front steps of Huiqing’s manor was Prince Mingyu. In the morning light swathed under a wool cloak, Mingyu looked younger than his nineteen years. An unnatural flush of pink coloured the pallor of his cheeks. In his hand he held a cage.

“I have a parting gift.”

“Pigeons?” Huiqing scoffed and shook his head. “What will they need with pigeons?”

Mingyu shrugged. “Well, they will need to be able to send you word of their safety, won’t they, husband?” His eyes met Lan’s for a moment and then he smiled again as he turned to Shun. “Besides, they can be very useful to signal for help - if the need arises.”

Lan stilled. What did the Ninth Prince mean by those words? Mingyu was already fastening the cage to his saddle. A pack of seeds for feeding the birds went into a saddlebag. Lan bowed - stiff. “Thank you your highness,” he could feel Shun’s and Huiqing’s curious eyes on his, “I hope we won’t ever need their assistance.”

Mingyu smiled up at him - all light and emptiness - and inclined his head. “Just release them when the two of you and the good Lady reach safety. They will know their way home.”

As they turned to ride away towards Jin’s border, Lan couldn’t help but turn his head. Huiqing had his hand raised in a wave. Mingyu stood by his side.

I am a coward, Cheng Lan.

That was what the Ninth Prince had told him, but now Lan was riding back to Jin with two trained messenger pigeons strapped to the back of his saddle. How much, really, was Prince Mingyu involved in all of this?

In front of him, Shun called out. Lan turned his head back to the road to find that he had fallen behind. He shook his head with a grin. Never mind the Ninth Prince’s involvement - they were no longer involved. He grinned and urged his horse to join Shun’s. Four days and he could forget about all of this entirely.

Four days ride to Yangnan, and then a new life.