But Bian Lingbai seemed to catch himself, reconsidering his words: “…a desperate man. After assassinating the late emperor, he fled to Western Liang. But they didn’t dare shelter him, so he fled here to Tong Pass. Ay…”
Listening to his heavy sigh, Duan Ling almost sympathized with him. Though he wanted to press forward with more questions, delving too deeply might arouse Bian Lingbai’s suspicions.
When they’d set aside their bowls, Bian Lingbai turned to Duan Ling. “Well, now that it’s only the two of us left in the manor, go tidy up. I’ll call you in a bit, and we’ll go for a ride.”
Assuming Bian Lingbai wanted to check whether his treasure had been disturbed, Duan Ling readily agreed. Just as he was about to leave the table, Bian Lingbai asked, “Do you have any other uncles?”
Duan Ling shook his head. “The whole Zhao family is gone.”
“Then I’ll be your real uncle from now on. We’ll tell the others you’re my elder brother’s son, who came to Tong Pass to seek refuge with me.”
While Duan Ling nodded gratefully, inwardly he thought, My real uncle is in Xichuan. Careful: Once you’re a ghost too, my grandpa’ll beat the crap out of you.
After staying up all night, Duan Ling could hardly keep his eyes open. The instant he returned to his room and lay down in bed, he passed out, dead to the world. Time passed unmarked as he slumbered, and somewhere deep in his dreams, the melody of “Joyful Reunion” echoed once again.
It was strange. Duan Ling had heard this tune played by four different people: Lang Junxia, Xunchun, Li Jianhong, and Wu Du. The two occasions it had resonated with him most deeply were his first day at Ming Academy and that final time in Xichuan. The entire world had seemed to hold its breath, the stillness breeding a quiet loneliness in Duan Ling’s heart as he’d leaned against the door and listened to Wu Du play.
Lang Junxia.
The name made Duan Ling shudder whenever he remembered it. He refused to let himself think of that person’s face—let alone his name. He rolled onto his side, unconsciously reaching out, but his hand didn’t find Wu Du beside him. He opened his eyes. The flute’s melody lingered in his ears as though it was real, but the moment he woke, the music had stopped.
Wu Du wasn’t there.
It was the first time in all these months he’d been parted from Wu Du. Whenever Duan Ling was awake, whether Wu Du was training outside in the yard, watering the flowers in the garden, or tidying up the room, he was always there. But now, only an empty room greeted him when he opened his eyes. He found himself strangely unsettled as the sun’s dying light filtered in.
Today was the first day. There were still six more to go.
Duan Ling sat up and stared blankly out into the courtyard. Autumn had arrived, bringing a somber desolation to Tong Pass as the first wave of yellow leaves crackled in the wind, skittering off their branches and drifting down onto the ground.
“Wu Du…” Duan Ling mumbled.
“What?” Wu Du replied out of nowhere, startling Duan Ling badly. He crouched, seated on his haunches, at the foot of the bed.
“You’re not gone yet?!” Duan Ling exclaimed.
“Shh.” Clad once more in his black clothes, Wu Du put a finger to his lips. His gaze swept over Duan Ling and darted around the room, alert.
“I couldn’t help worrying,” Wu Du said. “Why don’t we go together after all?”
“I can’t,” Duan Ling said.
Wu Du frowned. “It’s too dangerous here. I really can’t leave you behind.”
“If we both leave, then what about Bian Lingbai?”
“I mixed a dose of Seven-Day Mania into his porridge,” Wu Du replied. “It should cause him to have a seizure, foam at the mouth, and die bleeding from his seven orifices. If we head back to Xichuan now, we can still make it in time.”
“What if Prime Minister Mu has other plans?” Duan Ling asked. “Not to mention Helan Jie will be coming back.”
“And what if he finds you here and kills you?” Wu Du countered. “What will I do then?”
For some reason, Wu Du’s words made Duan Ling’s heart race. He knew Wu Du was genuinely weighing their options. Whenever Wu Du got serious, he became calm, displaying none of his usual impatience.
Brows knit in a slight frown, Wu Du continued, “The first thing I did when I left the hall was poison his porridge, then check if he’d eaten it. I was worried he’d come after you the second I was gone.”
“But look, I’m fine, aren’t I?” Duan Ling said. He turned his eyes toward the yard and asked, “Where did he head off to?”
“He’s talking to Mister Fei right now. He’ll be coming to fetch you soon,” Wu Du said.
“Do you still remember what the late emperor told you?” Duan Ling asked. “‘There are some things you must do, even if it means certain death.’”
Wu Du fell silent. His eyes were deep and beautiful, and his brows had taken on a slight arch as he gazed at Duan Ling. He chuckled. “You’ve got guts. But even the most careful man can make mistakes—you forgot something, did you realize that?”
“What?” Duan Ling asked, racking his brain.
“What will Bian Lingbai do if he realizes his secret ledger is missing?” Wu Du said.
Shocked, Duan Ling muttered, “You’re right, I messed up—I should’ve put a copy back in its place. It’s too late now, though. If he asks, we’ll just have to play dumb. Without solid evidence he’ll have to relent.”
“Mister Fei already forged one for you. I stuck it in the hidden chamber earlier this afternoon,” Wu Du said.
Oh, thank heavens! Duan Ling’s back was soaked in cold sweat.
“I was already out of the city when I remembered,” Wu Du added. “I turned back to deal with it—and to let you know.”
Wu Du stared pointedly at Duan Ling, and Duan Ling laughed.
“So…” Wu Du trailed off.
Duan Ling was sitting up in bed looking mildly dazed, dressed only in his snow-white underrobe and trousers.
Wu Du gave him another once-over before saying, “I’m off, then.”
“You… Be careful. Go safely,” Duan Ling said.
“I know you can use a bow. Run if there’s danger. Keep yourself safe,” Wu Du instructed him. “And you…be careful too.”
Wu Du was a tall man, but he crouched low as they stared at each other, the silence between them broken only by their soft breathing. Outside in the yard, a single leaf detached from its branch and fluttered through the air before alighting on the flower bushes. Disturbed by its landing, a nearby bee buzzed into flight.
Without another word, Wu Du hopped off the bed and dashed out the door. He hooked a hand on the eave and leapt up, vanishing over the rooftop.
Duan Ling sat at a bit of a loss, words long unspoken drawn from him by their parting. Memories of that other voice crashed over him like a tidal wave, bringing with them his once-endless sorrow—yet, like the tide, the waves that had surged into his heart also gently receded.