Seventh Prince's Mansion – Inner Chamber. Morning After the Wedding
The next morning, Xu Xiaolan woke to find Jian Wushuang gone.
So much for marriage, she sighed inwardly.
Ji-Lie soon entered, and with the help of the servants of the prince's mansion assigned to Xu Xiaolan, she was bathed and changed. Breakfast was served quietly in the room, the servants standing off to the side with lowered gazes.
Ji-Lie was about to sit and eat with her when Jian Wushuang walked in. His clothes had been changed, his hair left loose down his back. Clearly, he had been awake quite early. Xu Xiaolan frowned as he took his seat.
The man beside him bowed his head in respect and stepped back.
Xu Xiaolan picked up a chopstick.
"You left early," she said coolly. "Did you perhaps want the entire court to know how little of a performative man you are?"
Wushuang choked.
Wine sprayed violently into his sleeve as he coughed, utterly losing the composed, lazy elegance he had entered with.
"…Kgh…!"
He bent forward, coughing hard, one hand braced against the table.
Behind him, the man who had entered with him Lianju froze for exactly half a second.
Then he turned his head away very deliberately.
His shoulders shook.
Wushuang finally managed to swallow and lifted his head slowly. His hair was loose, dark strands falling over his shoulders, his robes simple but clean, the image of a prince who had indeed been awake far too early.
He stared at Xu Xiaolan.
Another cough followed.
"Wife."
He reached for the teacup instead, far more carefully this time.
"You wound me," he said dryly.
He glanced pointedly at Ji-Lie, then at the servants, who had very wisely already left.
"Announcing such things at breakfast."
Lianju cleared his throat and bowed again, shoulders still trembling.
"This subordinate apologizes… I will… stand farther away."
He took two steps back. For professionalism.
Wushuang leaned back slightly, eyes flicking over Xu Xiaolan with open amusement.
"As for leaving early.... "
He shrugged lazily.
"I was taking a morning stroll."
A pause.
Then, with infuriating calm.
"And don't worry."
He smiled, sharp and bright.
"The court is very confident in my… stamina."
Lianju lost the battle entirely and let out a snort.
Wushuang shot him a look.
"You're dismissed."
"Yes, Your Highness, congratulations on your stamina."
Lianju vanished at record speed.
Wushuang turned back to Xu Xiaolan, resting his chin on his hand.
"Now," he said pleasantly,
"are we eating… or are you planning to stab me with the chopstick first?"
Marriage, it seemed, was already off to a violent start.
Xu Xiaolan smiled faintly.
"I can do both, husband."
She waved Ji-Lie off. Ji-Lie bowed and excused herself, but not before giving Jian Wushuang a death stare.
Wushuang followed Ji-Lie with his eyes as she backed away. The look she gave him could have frozen steel.
The door slid shut.
Silence returned.
"She doesn't like you much. Give her time." Xu Xiaolan said calmly
Wushuang hummed thoughtfully.
"Mm. I noticed."
He glanced toward the door.
Earlier, when the servants had served the food, Xu Xiaolan had poured a drop of the bone-chilling poison her father had given her into the wine vessel beside him. It had no smell, no trace, no way to detect it.
Death was certain.
Her mission had been sure.
And yet, why had she spoken?
She had seen him pour the wine. She had seen him take a sip. And then she had said something that made him spill it.
Jian Wushuang looked up at her.
Xu Xiaolan tore her gaze away quickly and took a bite of her food.
Next time, she told herself.
Next time, she would do it properly.
*************************************************
Crown Prince Tian li Mansion – Inner Pavilion
Silk brushed marble.
Bare feet moved in perfect rhythm as a courtesan danced at the center of the pavilion, bells chiming softly at her ankles. Sleeves flowed like mist, her body bending and turning with practiced grace beneath lantern light.
Tian Li did not look at her.
He reclined against the couch, fingers tapping slowly against the armrest once, twice, three times, each beat measured, controlled.
Fury coiled beneath his calm exterior.
To his left sat the Third Prince, wine cup in hand, brows knit in irritation.
To his right, the Fourth Prince lounged back, feigning ease while watching Tian Li carefully.
The courtesan spun closer.
"Leave," Tian Li said coldly.
The music stopped instantly.
The dancer paled, bowed low, and retreated without a sound. Servants followed, the doors sliding shut with a final, echoing thud.
The Third Prince slammed his cup down.
"He should never have been released."
Tian Li's smile was thin.
"No. He should never have survived."
The Fourth Prince leaned forward.
"Yet Father not only frees him, he marries him into the Xu Clan."
A scoff followed.
"That woman is dangerous."
Tian Li's eyes darkened.
"Yes."
He rose slowly and walked toward the window overlooking his vast mansion.
"That is why I allowed it."
Both princes looked at him sharply.
"Allowed?"
Tian Li turned, necromantic shadows flickering faintly at his feet before vanishing.
"Xu Xiaolan might be useful."
A pause.
"And blades either kill their target… or break."
He folded his hands behind his back.
"If she kills Jian Wushuang, the problem ends."
"If she fails....."
His smile curved, cruel and satisfied.
"The Xu Clan will burn with him."
The Fourth Prince frowned.
"And if the Seventh Prince survives?"
Tian Li's eyes gleamed, dark, predatory.
"Then I'll confirm what I already suspect."
A soft laugh escaped him.
"That the Jian bloodline is far more troublesome than we thought."
He turned back to the window, gazing over the capital.
"Either way… I win."
Behind him, unseen, a faint whisper curled through the shadows.
The game had begun.
***********************************************
Back in Wushuang's mansion.
The door closed.
Only then did Jian Wushuang exhale.
The smile vanished.
His laziness dissolved like smoke.
What remained was cold, and sharpness.
He stood before a wall of unlit lanterns, hands folded behind his back, posture straight as a blade in its sheath. Shadows clung unnaturally to the corners of the room, responding to his presence.
Lianju knelt on one knee.
No jokes.
No grin.
"Your Highness."
"Report."
"The Shadow Guards are ready."
A pause.
"Three hundred dark shadows. Handpicked. Trained quietly over the past five years."
His fist clenched.
"Cold Palace guards. Servants. Prisoners who owed you their lives."
Wushuang's eyes darkened.
"They answer only to you."
A slow nod.
"Deployment readiness?"
"Immediate. Silent. No trace."
Wushuang turned.
His eyes held no warmth only depth and calculation.
"Good."
Lianju inhaled.
"As for the Xu Clan…"
He hesitated.
"Crown Prince Sima Li is their backer."
The room darkened.
Wushuang's lips curved, not in humor, but satisfaction.
"I thought so."
He moved to the table, fingers brushing over a map of the capital marked with nearly invisible symbols.
"Father's silence. The Xu Clan's arrogance in recent years. The timing of the marriage."
He tapped a point.
"Too neat."
"And the Princess Consort?"
Wushuang paused.
For the first time, his expression shifted, subtle, unreadable.
"She's a weapon. Useless to me."
A beat.
"But not his. She's a pawn for him."
Azura flame flickered faintly beneath his pupils.
"If Tian Li thinks he can kill me using Xu Xiaolan…"
A dangerous smile formed.
"Then I'll let him keep trying."
"Activate the shadows. Quietly."
"And if the Crown Prince moves?"
"Then the dead will start whispering his name."
***********************************************
Ancestral Temple – Night
The temple doors closed without a sound.
Old incense and stone worn smooth by centuries of kneeling emperors and forgotten ghosts.
Jian Wushuang sat on the cold floor.
Legs folded.
Spine straight.
Hands resting on his knees.
He closed his eyes.
Darkness came easily.
Steel tearing through flesh.
Screams ripped open by fire and blade.
Blood soaking jade tiles meant for celebration.
His mother collapsed into his arms.
Her blood coated his hands as she tried to smile.
"shuang'er…"
A blade flashed.
His elder brother staggered, eyes wide, mouth opening.
The sword drove through his chest.
Wushuang's jaw clenched.
His fingers curled into fists and his eyes snapped open.
A soft chuckle echoed behind him.
"You still meditate like you're preparing for war."
"You're late."
Footsteps approached.
An old man stepped into the dim light, robes plain, hair silvered, eyes sharp.
"Your anger grows heavier every time."
He sat across from Wushuang.
"If you don't let go of the past, it will consume you."
Wushuang laughed.
"Let go?"
He rose slowly, shadows curling at his heels.
"I don't plan on living a happy life. Anger is all I have left, and I will not waste it pretending I can forgive."
He stepped closer.
"Everyone who raised a blade against my family "
"Everyone who watched and did nothing"
His smile turned wicked.
"I will drag them with me to the underworld."
The old man sighed.
"Then you walk a path with no return."
Wushuang inclined his head.
"I crossed that line ten years ago."
He turned back to the altar. As if waiting for an answer.
His ancestors did not answer.
They were waiting