“Capture the queen—that blue one there!” Yuan Kun ordered. He blasted the insects with lightning from his palms while Hongjun merged his knives into a long saber and slashed.
Light flashed, and the queen shattered like a brittle piece of amber. Instantly the teeming swarm of insects exploded into a mist that dissipated into the air.
Gasping for breath, Hongjun inadvertently caught a whiff of the sweet fragrance of this poisonous mist. Uncontrollable tremors began coursing through his body.
Watching Hongjun shiver, Yuan Kun remarked coldly, “You shouldn’t have killed it. This will only waste more time. But what’s done is done.”
Xiangyu rushed forward and dropped to one knee before the divine kun, imploring, “Please, Your Majesty, save my sisters’ lives!”
Yuan Kun scoffed. “Whoever ties the bell to the tiger must be the one to untie it.”
The sun was setting by the time Li Jinglong stumbled into the Department of Exorcism headquarters in Luoyang, panting as he supported Hongjun with an arm around his waist.
“Sirs!” Wen Bin jumped to his feet to help them, only for Li Jinglong to brusquely shove him aside.
“What’s wrong with him?”
“None of your business,” Li Jinglong snapped. “Get out of theway.”
“I can’t—” Hongjun moaned, clawing at any part of Li Jinglong he could reach.
As Wen Bin peered around outside, he saw a blindfolded man enter the courtyard and exclaimed in surprise, “It’s you!”
Yuan Kun hummed in response as he strode into the main hall and sat down without so much as a by-your-leave. Befuddled, Wen Bin asked, “Who are you?”
“Silence,” Yuan Kun snapped. “Who I am is none of your business.”
Wen Bin was at a loss for words.
More visitors entered the courtyard—this time a group of laborers pushing two handcarts through the gate.
A woman’s voice called cautiously, “Wen Bin?”
“Xiangyu!” Wen Bin cried out in surprise.
Xiangyu had the men unload the peonies—pots and all—from the carts and set them down in the courtyard. Wen Bin asked, “Where did all these flowers come from?”
Xiangyu shot Yuan Kun a tentative glance before replying. “Look after them for me. Some had their roots cut, so take good care of them and make sure they don’t die.”
“Sure thing,” Wen Bin said with a smile. “I’m a master gardener, after all.”
Approaching Yuan Kun, Xiangyu began, “Your Majesty—”
“Don’t worry about Li Bai,” Yuan Kun said. “Let him stay in the Galaxy for now.”
“Then…the other two…”
“You can’t help them,” said Yuan Kun. “The poison Wan Jue emitted before his death will take at least three days and nights to wear off. They’ll recover naturally after that.”
Xiangyu nodded. “I’ll go make dinner then.”
Yuan Kun sat quietly in the main hall while Wen Bin arranged and counted the pots—one hundred and eight in total. Satisfied, he wandered into the rear courtyard to help Xiangyu in the kitchen. When he asked her what had transpired, she merely spoke a few teasing words, which made him so shy he didn’t ask any more questions.
As night fell, Xiangyu lit the oil lamps and set the table for dinner. “The other two…”
“Don’t mind them,” Yuan Kun replied. “Just prepare some congee and deliver it to them tomorrow morning.”
Xiangyu’s expression turned strange as Wen Bin asked curiously, “Are the two of them…?”
“Just eat your dinner,” Xiangyu huffed. “You ask too many questions.”
And with that, Wen Bin had his answer.
Fast asleep in the middle of the night, Hongjun dreamed. An abundant stream of images flashed past, each dissipating in the blink of an eye: his mother singing softly while cradling him in her arms, his father holding his tiny hands and supporting him as he toddled on unsteady feet. A young Li Jinglong’s arm around his shoulder as they searched under a parasol tree for a cicada that had shed its shell…
“I’m really envious. You’ve been to so many places,” Li Jinglong was saying.
“Every time we move, my parents forbid me from going out,” Hongjun replied. “No matter where I go, the only thing I see is walls.”
“When I grow up, I’ll take you on an adventure. We’ll go to all the places we’ve never been and eat all the delicious food we’ve never eaten,” Li Jinglong said.
“Where should we go first?” Hongjun asked.
Li Jinglong grew solemn, urging Hongjun to pick. Although Hongjun had lived all over, he’d never truly experienced the prosperity and liveliness of the mortal world. After lengthy consideration, he said, “I think Chang’an is pretty nice already.”
“We should go to Luoyang!” Li Jinglong suggested. “Everyone says Luoyang is the divine capital, with a palace in the heavens and a galaxy of stars that goes on for miles…”
“Luoyang, then!”
Dream and reality overlapped. He’d never expected that when Li Jinglong finally fulfilled his promise, the galaxy they visited would be entirely different from what he’d imagined as a child.
Hongjun was beyond exhausted. Most of Wan Jue’s poison was out of his system by now, but he still fidgeted restlessly in his sleep, waking Li Jinglong. Each time this happened, they’d talk quietly and make love once again until they dropped back off, and the cycle would continue.
The next morning, Li Jinglong left the room wearing nothing but a thin robe, leaving a swath of his chest bare. When he saw a breakfast tray left for them outside the room, he carried it inside and ate with Hongjun. The door to their room remained shut for the rest of the day.
That night, Li Jinglong carried Hongjun out to the rear courtyard so they could bathe before helping him back to their room with an arm around his waist.
When dawn broke the next day, Hongjun sat up in bed, the flush almost gone from his face. “I can’t do this anymore! If this goes on, I’ll die before the poison is out of my system!”
“Oh, come now,” Li Jinglong said with a smile. “Was it really so tiring?”
“Yes!” Hongjun felt like they’d barely stopped for a moment—his body had been left a sticky mess on several occasions these past few days.
As Li Jinglong helped Hongjun wash, he heard Wen Bin and Xiangyu talking outside. Li Bai had returned, it seemed. Li Jinglong dropped a kiss on Hongjun’s ear and helped him into his robes, then took his hand and led him out of the room.
Xiangyu, laying breakfast on the table in the main hall, looked up with a smile. Li Jinglong swallowed and returned her smile awkwardly. Li Bai looked pale as well as he sat down and nodded at the company. He tucked into his breakfast without even asking for wine.
Hongjun was so ravenous he was about to keel over. Yuan Kun glanced at him. “Qing Xiong said you were too impulsive, and he was right. If you hadn’t killed the gu ape, we wouldn’t have lost these days.”
“Perhaps it’s a good thing,” Li Jinglong replied. “Life is uncertain; there’s no way of knowing if this turn of events will help or harm us.”
Yuan Kun hummed absently. After a moment, he conceded, “Now that I think about it, you may be right.”
This confused Hongjun once again. He was bursting with questions, but before he could ask even the first of them, Li Jinglong stopped him with a look—eat first; we’ll talk later.
Xiangyu ladled a bowlful of congee for Hongjun and held it out to him deferentially, with both hands. “It’s all thanks to you, sir.”
Hongjun waved her gratitude aside. Even now, he didn’t quite understand how Xiangyu and Wen Bin had arrived at their present circumstances. His gaze darted between them curiously. “How long have you two known each other?”
Xiangyu turned to Wen Bin and produced a few coins. “Go fetch some fermented bean curd from the store.”
Wen Bin took the money with a smile and obediently went.
“I’ve known Wen Bin for four years,” Xiangyu said. “He was a gardener at Qili Pagoda.”
That’s right, thought Hongjun. Xiangyu had mentioned she and her flower yao sisters had once lived on Mount Baima, where peonies thrived.