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“I just want to understand the stakes,” he countered.

“It’s finished. We both lost.”

He regarded me in silence for a moment. “I did not think you would run. I never took you for a coward.”

The silken bite in his tone stung. It was what he wanted, to goad me into retaliation, into saying something I should not, but I reined in my emotions. “I am not a coward, just not a fool.”

He sighed. “I don’t want to fight with you, Xingyin. I wronged you. I wish to make amends if you will let me. If there is anything you desire, you have but to ask.”

He was so proud, I never thought to hear such an admission from him. Even knowing all I did, my pulse quickened, a familiar ache rising within. If only I could erase the foolish, sentimental part of me that still cared, that should have died the moment I learned his true nature.

But could we truly hate those we had loved before? I was learning that such a transformation was not as seamless as I had hoped. Wenzhi was right; I had wanted to hurt him, to chase him from my home, to cut him from my life … yet I did not really want his death. Not then, and not now. However, forgiveness was a different matter. I was still furious; I could never trust him again. Any tenderness I had felt, any hope for a future was irrevocably destroyed. Yet I could not deny that his offer tempted me, for I was not one to toss away an opportunity. If danger lay ahead, I would do all I could to arm myself against it.

I walked to the balustrade and rested my elbows against the cool stone, staring at the luminous earth that stretched beneath us like the starlit sea. “I am only speaking to you now because you let Liwei and me go, because your plan failed. If you had truly cost me my freedom and that of my mother, I would shoot you now without hesitation.”

“Would you really?” His voice lifted with challenge.

Anger seared me as I spun to leave, but he moved in front of me.

“Wait. I’m sorry.” He stretched his arms wide. “You may aim at your leisure.”

I glared at him, my fingers tightening around my bow. “That I don’t, for now, does not mean we’re friends or even less than enemies. Nor do I despise you any less.”

“Not friends. Less than enemies?” A mocking lilt to his tone. “You are generous indeed.”

“More than you deserve. But know this: I will never forget your treachery. I will never forgive you. This is as far as things will ever go between us.”

He inclined his head. “I understand, though I will endeavor to change your mind.”

The wind surged then, tossing my unbound hair, our robes fluttering wildly. He shrugged off his outer robe and offered it to me. I did not accept, staring at it like it was a venomous snake.

“I need information,” I said instead. “What recent news have you heard of the Celestial Court?” As the heir to the Demon Realm, his reach went far; they would be certain to keep close watch over their greatest rival and foe.

He sighed as he pulled his robe back over himself. “There was another reason I came tonight. Why I was more … insistent. Beware the newly elevated Celestial general. According to my sources, he has a keen interest in you.”

“General Wu? Beyond the fact he wanted the emperor to sentence me to death?” My gut clenched. Wenzhi was not one to issue such warnings lightly. Moreover, I had been unsettled ever since learning of Shuxiao’s troubles. “Why do you believe this?”

“He keeps a careful eye on those close to you, on your home. He studies books of this place. He has turned the emperor’s attention here.”

A coldness spread from the pit of my stomach. Part of me wanted to confide in him, just as I used to. Though I bore the scars of his deceit, he might know something of use. Slowly at first, I told him of the laurel, my words flowing easier toward the end.

“Was the intruder trying to destroy the tree or harvest its seeds?” he asked.

The first possibility had not occurred to me, but I recalled Master Gang’s deliberate pause after each strike. This had been no frenzied attack intent on destruction. “He wanted the seeds. Fortunately, it seemed a laborious task, taking several blows to dislodge one. There was blood, his blood, staining his hands and the tree.”

“Why don’t you show me the laurel?” When I did not reply, he added, “I just want to help you. I swear this on my life.”

“You have sworn many things to me before.”

“I am not who I was then.”

I did not believe him, already probing his face and tone for trickery. I did not think he had changed; he would say anything to obtain what he wanted. However, I wanted the assessment of his keen mind. Something gnawed at me, that it would be a betrayal of sorts to allow him into my home—both of Liwei and myself. But I was on the alert; I would not be caught unaware. And if he betrayed me again, he would pay in full this time.

ALL WAS SILENT, EXCEPT for the careful tread of our feet. I was relieved for the lateness of the hour, that everyone was asleep, that I did not need to explain his presence to my mother or Ping’er. Wenzhi stared at everything intently—whether a silk-paneled lamp, the painted screens, or a carved wooden table. Outside, he paused, gazing at the silver roof, the glowing earth, the forest of moon-white osmanthus.

“I have wondered about your home,” he said quietly. “It is beautiful.”

I nodded curtly in reply, unwilling to engage in conversation with him.