Page 24
“He’s of the right age. He carries a bow of our realm. He knew my past and my mother’s.”
“Many a fortune hunter will claim anything for the chance to win an immortal’s aid,” he cautioned.
“I know my father here.” I pressed my fingertips to my chest.
Liwei clasped my hands in his. “You want to believe him, Xingyin—but this could be mere coincidence or contrivance. Many mortals are familiar with your parents’ tale, countless more are of the right age. Perhaps he obtained that weapon from Kunlun Mountain. At least consider the possibility that this mortal is not who he claims to be.”
His reasoning was sound, though his doubt stung. Yes, I wanted this to be true, yet I was not oblivious to the facts. Once before, I had allowed this to happen. But while my trust was bruised, I believed the part inside me that sensed the truth—my father was alive.
“He is my father. The Jade Dragon Bow—”
“Are you asking about the elixir for him?” Liwei’s grip tightened. “It’s too dangerous. We must find out more about this mortal; this is not something to rush into.”
My father’s cough rang through my mind, his crimson blood staining the cloth. Time was something I did not have. “He is ill. He needs the elixir.”
“My father will not yield it, neither to you nor me,” Liwei said heavily. “We have few allies left in the Jade Palace, and we cannot act rashly. Don’t risk yourself until you know for sure.”
My lips formed a smile as I nodded in seeming assent, despising myself for the trickery. Liwei did not believe the mortal was my father—I could not blame him for the dragon had told us he was dead, and it was impossible to explain the certainty of a feeling only I sensed. I could not ask more from Liwei, nor could I add to his concerns or pit him further against his family. And the greatest reason I held my tongue—one I shied from myself—was the worry that he would object to my plan, that he would try to dissuade me … and that I would proceed regardless.
He was right; the emperor would never give me the elixir, which was why I would take it from him. And if I failed, it was safer for my loved ones if they did not know, for I was certain the Celestial Emperor had his ways of extracting the truth.
“Have you decided what you will do?” I asked him, shifting the conversation to safer ground. “I met the Keeper by chance in the Mortal Realm. He said there are many at court who would support you, should you return.”
“I have no plans to return. Not yet.”
I breathed easier, though there was little joy in that which caused him pain. “I know your family is precious to you; I never wanted to make you choose.” I paused, asking, “Do you regret it?”
“No. This time there is no threat to the kingdom, no pressing alliance to secure. This time … you will not be rid of me so easily.” His eyes darkened. “Though I wish I had not parted with my parents on such terms, to have disappointed them.”
Your father disappointed you, I wanted to tell him. Liwei need not have been forced into a choice where all would undoubtedly lose.
“I meant what I said to you those years before, in the market.” There was a wistful note in his voice.
The stalls in the clearing. The woody fragrance of tea winding through the air. A white shell nestled in my palm. His words drifted back to me as though it were yesterday: We could travel the realm, stopping where we choose and leaving when we grow restless.
“It would be a good life.” I repeated what I had said then.
“As long as we’re together.” His dark gaze held mine, my heart quickening. “Though I fear for myself sometimes, wanting to bind myself to one as fierce as you.”
“It’s not too late.” My tone sharpened. “I have not agreed. You are free to make your escape.”
“I will never be free of you.”
Drawn by the warmth in his tone, I tilted my face up to his. He lowered his head, his lips brushing mine tenderly, then pressing harder. His hand cradled my cheek, his fingers threading through my hair. Heat kindled in my veins as he drew me closer. I melted against him, reveling in his touch. Neither of us spoke again but for the language of our tangled breaths, silencing the voices in my mind, burying all thoughts of the perils that lay ahead.
At least for now.
Our morning meal was a quiet affair with no guests to entertain. The sisters from the Golden Desert had left, perhaps sensing our unease or having heard rumblings of the emperor’s displeasure. I was glad, in no mood for idle conversation. My mother placed a bowl of congee before me, the rice cooked to a silken texture, dotted with crimson wolfberries, tendrils of ginseng, and tender pieces of chicken. Salted egg slices with vermilion yolks adorned the surface, along with a handful of roasted peanuts and shavings of spring onion.
As I lifted the porcelain spoon to my mouth, the wards pulsed in warning through my mind. I stiffened, turning to my mother and Liwei. “We have visitors.”
Liwei set his bowl aside. “How many?”
I pressed a hand to my temple, trying to discern the new arrivals. “A dozen or more.”
“We will make our excuses,” my mother said tersely. “After that fraud ‘Master Gang,’ we will shelter none beneath our roof.”
I had told her of his true identity, and how he had maligned us to the Celestial Court. I did not want her to be caught unaware by his trickery again.
