🎎 Chapter four: Escape and Revelation 🎎
(Escape, Poison, and Memories)
Fuyao frowned as she assessed her odds. No matter how skilled she was with a dagger, she was still nothing compared to Zhang Chuan and the elders. One wrong move, and she would die. Yet cooperating with such ruthless people seemed just as dangerous—especially after seeing how mercilessly they treated Zhang Wei.
Still, the fact that she was alive suggested the Zhangs hadn't yet decided to kill her. That, at least, gave her a small sliver of hope.
"What is your motive in approaching Zhang Wei?" Zhang Chuan asked, his eyes narrowing with suspicion.
Fuyao's lips pressed together in annoyance. The question implied that they expected her to admit some romantic connection to Zhang Wei. Playing along seemed her only chance of survival.
"I didn't approach Zhang Wei with any motive," she said evenly.
"Then you don't mind telling us who you truly are? An ordinary maid wouldn't handle daggers so skillfully unless…"
Zhang Chuan paused, searching her face for any flicker of deceit. Fuyao's eyes remained firm, but her heart raced. Revealing her Fu clan heritage could mean certain death. The Fu clan, though not dominant, was influential due to their special abilities—a target for those who knew even a fragment of their secrets.
When her family had been murdered and her home destroyed, she assumed the Zhangs were responsible. Only A Ji Ya truly knew the Fu clan's secrets. The hatred she once felt had faded upon realizing the Zhangs were innocent. She could hardly forgive herself for ever plotting Zhang Wei's death.
Now, gravely injured and cared for by Zhang Wei, Fuyao realized she had no reason to die just yet. Tossing her dagger aside, she lifted her wrists in surrender.
"I hold no ill will toward your family nor toward Zhang Wei," she said calmly. "I surrender."
The elders whispered among themselves.
"Do you think that surrender guarantees your life?" Zhang Chuan asked, irritation creeping into his voice.
"If you wanted me dead, I'd already be gone," Fuyao replied, her voice steady. "Since I'm still alive, it proves you have use for me."
Elder Mi shouted in anger, but Zhang Chuan only smiled darkly. "Clever… but I had no intention of killing you… not yet. I planned to do that in front of Zhang Wei."
A chill ran down Fuyao's spine. If she truly were Zhang Wei's lover, dying before him would crush him utterly. But she wasn't—and she had no intention of dying. Her mind raced, forming a plan.
A soft chuckle escaped her lips. Zhang Chuan raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "At times, I wonder why Miss A Ji Ya eloped with a monk. Seeing you now, I understand her choice," she teased, watching his expression twist. Men were predictable, after all, and rivalry with a monk stung more than any shame.
She rolled to the side, reaching for her dagger—only to feel a vice-like grip clamp around her neck. With a swift motion, she slashed her wrist, blood dripping onto the floor. The wound was enough to give her the strength she needed to act.
Meanwhile, Zhang Chuan paused, sniffing the scent of sweat and poison. He leapt back, creating a protective barrier around himself and Elder Mi, leaving the rest bewildered. Ning rushed to shield the unconscious Zhang Wei, his expression hardening into a silent threat.
"Puppet poison!" Elder Mi gasped, coughing blood as black veins spread across his hands. Quickly, he and the other elders sat cross-legged, forcing the poison from their bodies. But the maids, servants, and even low-ranking knights weren't so lucky—their pupils darkened, leaving them blank, controlled by the toxin.
Zhang Chuan's laugh cut through the chaos. "So my suspicions were right," he said, watching Fuyao vanish like the wind, leaving only the lingering smell of poison and blood behind.
Zhang Wei, still unconscious, suddenly found himself standing on a vast, endless white bridge. The emptiness stretched in all directions, ethereal and silent.
"Where am I?" he murmured, stepping forward cautiously. As he walked, a strange warmth flowed through him, a sensation unlike anything he had felt before.
Then came a sound—a baby's cry. Zhang Wei scanned the area and spotted a cradle, only to halt when he realized it wasn't a baby but an energy core floating midair, pulsating with three colors: red, purple, and black. He stared in awe, feeling time slip away.
Something within him urged him forward along the bridge, yet a single question lingered: What awaits on the other side?
A wave of energy washed over him, old memories stirring deep within.
"Mother…" he whispered, his mind flooded with truths long sealed away.
Flashback:
He hadn't always been weak. His strength had once rivaled that of his siblings. But A Ji Ya, fearful of his talents, had subtly sabotaged him as a child, damaging his core sea at age five. Her reasoning was cruel yet simple—she didn't want him competing for the heir's title.
Though she never raised him personally, she had watched from afar, her twisted sense of love blinding her. Her actions left him sick and fragile, forcing Tang to intervene. Zhang Wei's meridians had been sealed, poisoned further by the Fu clan leader, yet Tang defended him, taking punishment in his place.
At twelve, A Ji Ya's obsession turned murderous. She attempted to drain his life to save his elder brother Ning. He remembered the pain, the black hair turning gray, the suffocating fear that he might die. Yet, despite the suffering, Zhang Wei could not hate her—not entirely. He was a modern soul in a cruel martial world, understanding right and wrong differently.
He recalled that night clearly: stabbing A Ji Ya with her own sword, the look of shock on their faces, the smell of blood and incense, and the arrest that followed. The memories were bitter, painful, but enlightening.
Gone were the false happy memories. The truths left him wary but resolved: he would survive, live quietly, and make the most of his life.
Yet reality pressed in—his sole core, damaged but still sustaining him, was fading. He wondered if he had a chance to wake from this endless bridge, this strange liminal space between life and death.
Zhang Wei's eyes snapped open, determination burning anew. One path remained before him, one chance to reclaim his life, and the journey ahead promised both danger and revelation.
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