BUT TU'AN QINGHE made no move to attack.
He took two steps inside; Ming Yue unthinkingly made way to let him enter. Tu'an Qinghe walked straight over to Kuhezhen's corpse and crouched down. Disregarding the gu swarming over the corpse, he reached out to touch Kuhezhen's face.
Ming Yue almost yelled at him to stop—yet as he watched, he found himself stunned into silence. The gu didn't leap toward Tu'an Qinghe as expected; instead, they wriggled away, evading him like he was a scorpion. Tu'an Qinghe showed none of the expected shock, nor did he direct his anger at Ming Yue. He merely brushed his hand over Kuhezhen's eyelids.
The seventh prince's most celebrated feature had always been his deep blue eyes. Upon his arrival in the Sui capital, his handsome face and beautiful eyes had drawn much attention. The people of the Central Plains looked down on him in public for his Göktürk lineage, yet this didn't stop them from admiring him in private.
Now his eyes and face were an unrecognizable horror.
But when Ming Yue saw Tu'an Qinghe bend to pick Kuhezhen up, he couldn't stop himself from crying out, "No!"
Tu'an Qinghe looked at him calmly, murder glinting in his gaze. Ming Yue was a top-tier martial artist; he didn't fear death, and he wasn't afraid of fighting Tu'an Qinghe. But Tu'an Qinghe's bloodlust was so palpable he was shaken.
"He's covered in those gu worms," he tried to explain. "Maybe they won't harm you, but if you take him out of here, the gu will go everywhere. Innocent people will be harmed!" He paused. "You may be a Göktürk, but all martial artists strive to free their hearts from attachments. Surely you don't wish to stain your hands with such a terrible deed."
Tu'an Qinghe stared silently at Kuhezhen's corpse. For a long time, he said nothing.
Kuhezhen had always been particular about cleanliness.
The Göktürks were nomadic. Even their nobles found it difficult to be as stringent in this regard as their Central Plains counterparts. But perhaps due to his mixed heritage, Kuhezhen was different. He'd been sensitive about it since childhood—whenever his brothers threw mud at him and stained his clothes, he'd silently cry for hours.
On one occasion, Kuhezhen had hidden himself in a secluded cave to sob. Tu'an Qinghe, who had happened to be training there, became irate at the child for interrupting him—this was their first meeting.
As they grew older, Kuhezhen had established himself in the upper echelons of Göktürk society and was apprenticed under the tribe's shaman. He'd learned to bury his emotions, but with his longtime friend Tu'an Qinghe, he showed something of his old self. Tu'an Qinghe didn't approve of Kuhezhen's unscrupulous methods, but the prince had chosen his path, and there was no turning back. Kuhezhen had taken that road to its dark end.
So be it.
Given Kuhezhen's love of cleanliness, he'd surely have hated the idea of being consumed by filthy worms after his death. Tu'an Qinghe went to grab more firewood from a corner in the kitchen and piled it around Kuhezhen's body.
Ming Yue was momentarily taken aback at how cooperative Tu'an Qinghe was being. He rushed to help. A makeshift pyre swiftly took shape. Without further ado, Tu'an Qinghe lit a torch and tossed it onto the wood pile. The flames sparked and sputtered, spreading rapidly as the fire roared to life. Soon, not only the shed but the entire kitchen was engulfed.
The two men retreated outside to watch.
Ming Yue cupped his hands in gratitude. "Thank you for your understanding, Tu'an Qinghe-xiansheng."
"I didn't do it for you."
"I know," said Ming Yue. "It doesn't matter what your reasons are. As long as the outcome benefits the common people, it's still a meritorious deed. So thank you." He performed a deep bow.
"Go get a box," Tu'an Qinghe said.
Ming Yue started, but quickly realized what Tu'an Qinghe intended. He went into the house and found a clean box of appropriate size, then lined it with velvet.
By the time the fire burned down to embers, it was approaching noon. The charred, black walls of the kitchen emitted an unpleasant odor. Both Ming Yue and Tu'an Qinghe had been standing there since dawn.
Tu'an Qinghe entered the smoldering woodshed, where he picked up the charred remains, piece by piece, and placed them in the box.
Ming Yue didn't offer to help; he sensed Tu'an Qinghe wouldn't appreciate his intervention. Once all the bones were collected, Tu'an Qinghe turned and left with the box.
As the Imperial Guards stepped forward to stop him, Ming Yue raised a hand. Even if they all attacked Tu'an Qinghe together, they had no chance of victory. Box in hand, Tu'an Qinghe departed the seventh prince's residence, disappearing with a few swift leaps into the vast blue sky.
Barring any further upheaval, he would return to the Khaganate to lay his old friend to rest.
Ming Yue breathed a sigh of relief. He knew nothing of Tu'an Qinghe's pact with Feng Xiao, but even if he had, he wouldn't have tried to stop him. The city had just begun to settle. If they had to fight a formidable adversary like Tu'an Qinghe now, peace would come at an even steeper price.
***
Zhangsun, Yu Qingze, and their men descended into the dry well.
Not far from their starting point, they came across a fork in the passageway. Zhangsun pointed them down the side he'd yet to explore—if Cui Buqu was down the other, Zhangsun would have run into him on his way out.
This second passageway was deeper and narrower. Echoes rebounded off the walls and funneled into their ears. Zhangsun and Yu Qingze were unaffected, but the soldiers behind them grew anxious. Though they stepped as lightly as possible, they could hear a constant, rustling echo, as if some creature was creeping after them.
At the end of the passage, a magnificent bronze dais rose up before them.
Everyone gazed at the dais in awe. They had no idea the traps had already been triggered by Cui Buqu and Xiao Lü—if not, Zhangsun Bodhi would probably have been the only one to emerge alive.
Zhangsun was first to spot the cave above the platform. He leapt up and stumbled upon the bodies of Xiao Lü and Yuwen Yihuan. If they were dead here, there was a chance Cui Buqu had escaped. Zhangsun didn't stop to think. He instructed Yu Qingze to lead the others out the way they'd come, then dashed back through the cave.
Halfway down the passage, a blast of wind gusted toward him. He countered reflexively, only to discover that his opponent's internal cultivation far surpassed his own. Their palms met, and Zhangsun staggered back, blood roiling in his chest.
"You?" His opponent withdrew his hand. Feng Xiao's face came into view.
His freshly bald head was conspicuous in the lanternlight, but even more striking was his disheveled appearance. The normally fastidious Deputy Chief Feng was covered in dust. Though it didn't obscure his handsome features, the novelty of the sight shocked Zhangsun Bodhi speechless.
As Feng Xiao shifted, Cui Buqu came into view on his back.
"Lord Chief!"
Cui Buqu slumped wearily against Feng Xiao's shoulder. His eyes were tightly shut; it was impossible to tell whether he was dead or alive. Zhangsun's heart thudded. He stepped forward to take Cui Buqu, but Feng Xiao held up a hand.
"He's fine." Feng Xiao's voice was hoarse; he'd been down in the stale air of the labyrinth too long. "I examined him earlier. His breathing is weak but stable. Let's bring him out before anything else."
Zhangsun pursed his lips. "Thank you, Deputy Chief Feng. Allow me to carry him."
"No need." Feng Xiao raised his chin. "Lead the way."
Zhangsun nodded and said no more. He turned and led them back the way he'd come. The journey was almost bizarrely uneventful, and the three of them quickly exited the sunless labyrinth.
When the first rays of light hit him, Feng Xiao thought the sun had never felt so good before. Even better was this: He and Cui Buqu were both alive.
Now that they were out, Zhangsun thought he could finally retrieve his superior. He silently held out his arms. But instead of handing Cui Buqu over, Feng Xiao said, "I'll take him back to the Jiejian Bureau and have a doctor look him over there."
This time, Zhangsun Bodhi objected. "Thank you for your kindness, Deputy Chief Feng, but the empress has sent an imperial physician to the Zuoyue Bureau. He's waiting to treat the lord chief now."
Feng Xiao didn't wait to be invited. "Then let's get back to the Zuoyue Bureau." Before Zhangsun could respond, Feng Xiao had ordered someone to bring him a horse. He helped Cui Buqu into the saddle first, then mounted behind him and swiftly galloped off.
Zhangsun Bodhi was left speechless.
***
Though Xiao Lü had given Cui Buqu the Jade of Heaven Lake's essence, it'd entered his body along with Xiao Lü's old poison. Fighting poison with poison wasn't recommended; physicians considered it a treatment of last resort. But for someone like Cui Buqu, ravaged by chronic illness, the pain was hardly worth mentioning.
Cui Buqu remained unconscious for a full three days and nights. At times his breathing grew shallow, and his pulse weakened. It was only thanks to everyone's vigilant observation and timely infusions of true qi that he passed safely through the danger.
On the third day, he finally opened his eyes.
Upon seeing the bald head by his bedside, he first thought he was still at Daxingshan Temple. But he quickly recognized Feng Xiao.
It seemed a beauty would always be a beauty, regardless of hairstyle—or lack thereof. After staring at Feng Xiao's bare head for a while, Cui Buqu found it had an ascetic elegance. It helped that Deputy Chief Feng seemed to have thrown himself wholeheartedly into the act: He was dressed in a plain white monk's robe, which enhanced his aura of ethereal untouchability.
Of course, that was only if he kept his mouth shut.
But this was asking the impossible. The moment Cui Buqu shifted, Feng Xiao's eyes, which had been trained on the flowers outside the window, fixed upon his face.
"How long did I sleep?" Cui Buqu asked, his voice so hoarse as to be almost unrecognizable.
Feng Xiao pursed his lips and suppressed a sigh of relief. He quietly poured a cup of warm water, then supported Cui Buqu so he could drink.
Even the imperial physician had been helpless to alleviate Cui Buqu's suffering. There was no medicine he could prescribe. All anyone could do was take turns combating the poison with true qi when it flared up. Yet the treatment they'd devised had worked. That Cui Buqu had awakened at all was a great fortune among a sea of misfortunes. After surviving this tribulation, he still might not live to a ripe old age, but he'd no longer be on the verge of death.
"Three days," Feng Xiao said at last.
Cui Buqu felt as if half a lifetime had passed, yet it had been only three days.
How fortunate.
"Now that you've seen me," Feng Xiao said deliberately, "don't you have something to say?"
Cui Buqu looked at him in confusion, as if he had no earthly idea what he was talking about.
Feng Xiao was instantly suspicious. Cui Buqu possessed an eidetic memory; he couldn't possibly have forgotten. At the same time, he'd been on death's door during that conversation. Perhaps he'd taken it for a dream or hallucination, to be forgotten on waking.
"In the cave, while I was carrying you. The things we talked about." Deputy Chief Feng was as arrogant as an immortal in the clouds looking down on the people below. His tone carried a hint of magnanimous bafflement. "Could Chief Cui have truly forgotten every word?"
Cui Buqu pretended to be intently trying to recall what had happened. "I remember…you said I wasn't allowed to die."
"And then?" Feng Xiao asked coolly.
"That's all," Cui Buqu said innocently.
Feng Xiao sneered. "Good, wonderful, excellent!" Each word was heavy with sarcasm. "Cui Buqu," he said savagely. "Let me say this: I'll never look at you again for as long as you live, even if you beg!"
Then he saw Cui Buqu smile.
Feng Xiao had never seen Cui Buqu smile like that before: serene and genuine, without any hint of mockery. It was the joy of someone who'd struggled through innumerable tribulations, traversing fire and ice to be greeted, at last, with paradise.
"To live and see you again is a wonderful thing," Cui Buqu said.
Feng Xiao's heart instantly softened.