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The sharp scream of the beast is the only warning the entourage receives before one of their horses jumps.
The shock transpires in a blink of an eye, spreading like wildfire as one of the guards in the forefront screamed, effectively stopping the whole group in their steps. There is something very gruesome about seeing a chopped-off head, with dried speckles of blood across the cut of limb and the seven orifices. The act itself is nothing compared to the horror of seeing the lost head of the lord of the south that was robbed a full moon ago. Also, on his way back to the capital.
“On guards-“
Woosh! Thuck-
Another guard’s scream cut short when arrows begin flying from two sides, hitting the neck like a bull’s eye. With the hot, burning star standing proud and clear on the crispy fall sky behind his back, the bandit jumps and takes the momentary blindness to strike his first offence to the stunned men. He is lithe in his manoeuvre of the jian, manipulating the double edges to his advantage as he finishes the people around him on one slashes and stabs. All the while with more arrows whooshing past his head, the archers expertly avoiding their man as their weapons do not even spare the animals.
Before the guard can even recover from the shock, more bandits emerge from the hill, all with their face covered in worn clothes, some even donning weimao to cover their heads. Their weapons are variations of stolen goods of the nobles, a promise in equal quality as their opponent’s. If there is one thing apparent, the nobles do not train their guards enough to be prepared for an ambush as their men got cut down with no mercy, bloodshed even in front of a trembling and begging mistress.
She, also, is not spared.
The leader, judging on the Aquila perches on his broad shoulder, steps slowly – almost silently, to the back of the carriage before he kicks it open to reveal yet another man in such a pathetic condition. Curling up and hiding behind his flabby arms and wide sleeves. There is a sword sheathed on the nobleman’s side, but the bandit knows it is as useless as a blank talisman. This is probably another poor scholar sent to the warring states near the border. The bandit scoffs disgusted at the thought of the amount of stuff the kingdom is taking back to the capital from people who are already at the brink of their existences.
“D-dregs,” the man mutters as he cowers further on the floor of the carriage.
“What is it? I can’t hear you?” The bandit calmly mocks, finishing with a blowing kick that makes the rich lord tumbles backwards, revealing a patch on the floor. He snickers at the obvious display of fear. “B-bao da-wang!” The old man quickly gets on his knees, kowtowing in front of the tall man. It is the same man that begins the close combat with the now-dead guards.
Upon hearing his infamous nickname, the Leopard King crouches down, adjusting the mask obscuring his nose, mouth, down to his neck. A dangerous glint flashed in his dark eyes as he raises the trembling lord’s chin to stare into his soul. “Any last word?”
So, to say, the man does not get to let anything other than a gurgle of blood rush into his mouth as he gets stabbed on his heart, the blade sticking out his back like he is a skewed animal.
Wang Yibo makes sure he gets all his men in the creek first before heading back to the small valley they call home. Because the first thing that will greet them as they get back is a bunch of children ready to fall into their arms as they bring more supplies for the coming winter.
“Da-ge! I couldn’t sleep waiting for you. You promised to teach me how to braid meimei’s hair!” The boy in his arms pouts. For someone nearing his ninth year, the child is clearly too small and light. Despite that, Yibo coos and pinches at the little amount of fat clinging to his soft cheek.
“Really? I’ve only been gone for three days.” It is precisely five days and six nights, but the boy has no way of knowing it. Or maybe he does and neither of them cared about it. At the end of the day, Wang Yibo is home after yet another successful ‘mission’.
The boy wiggles in his arms and Yibo loosens his hold to let the boy jumps. The young child does not lose contact with his ‘da-ge’ for long as he grabs Yibo’s calloused hand and begins pulling him to the area where a bunch of little girls is playing. He almost forgot he has some wooing lesson to do once he got home.
The centre of the valley is lightened up with a huge bonfire, the crackling sound of burning firewood intermingling with boisterous laughter of men and continuous chiding from mothers as they remind their children to not get too far this late at night. The crowd is small, but the spirit of festivities is still there as they share the food that has been prepared since morning by the ladies and gentlemen of the valley.
Yibo has a small jar of baijiu in his hand, half-emptied as he watches the gathering in the small courtyard from the dimly lit veranda of his house. The building so shabby that if you ask him, he will just call it his humble hut. There is not that much inside other than what he needs to stay alive as he sleeps at night. Most of the building materials were given to the people in the community but they were stubborn in giving the leader the largest house to signify his status. Wang Yibo did not have that much energies to continue arguing so he gave in and here he is now.
He definitely does not jump when someone suddenly slaps his shoulder, emerging from the shadow. He just hisses because the man spots his latest injury. “Hello to you too, Gao da-ge,” sarcasm dripping in his tone as he glares at his right-hand man. The man only snickers as he grabs the jar from the younger man, finishing the content. Last he checked, there is definitely a whole crate of clear wine of the finest quality in their latest ‘find’. But Yibo does not say anything as he glares harder, lacking malice but full of familiarity.
“Have you got that treated?” Taiyu points vaguely to the area he slapped just now. There is a small spot on the fabric now but with the poor lighting, one might mistake it for a wet patch. Taiyu is not a fool though. You cannot go into a battle without sustaining at least a blister. Yibo is lucky this time one of the blades sliced through the skin of his shoulder instead of penetrating the area. The older man is expecting the answer that Yibo gives him, a small “Mn.” Something that does nothing to convince him of the blatant lie that it is.
“Should I get Qing-er for you?” It is Yibo’s turn to quirk his brows with something akin to amusement crossing his face. “Just yesterday it was Wanqing. That was quick, ge.” He snickers when Taiyu glares and threatens to squeeze the injured area. He barely ducks when Taiyu moves to hit him upside his head instead, breaking into goose-croaking laughter.
“Your darling is going to kill me instead,” Yibo states good-naturedly. Mu Wanqing is the resident doctor, who is as precise with her knife and needles as she is with a dao. They met her when she was on the run from the imperial academy, meeting at the crossword where Gao Taiyu was leaning almost lifelessly on a much younger Wang Yibo during one of their failed missions. To say it was a pleasant first meeting is an exaggeration, both sides were hostile towards each other. But they ended up with Wanqing treating the open wound on Taiyu’s thigh and Yibo brought her back to their secret valley. The rest are history, or maybe history in the making. It seems to Yibo that the relationship of his ge and the quiet but feisty woman is growing steadily.
“At least you die trying to survive instead of dying from a slow death of a possible infection or a misfunctioning limb.” Yibo once again rolls his eyes, scoffing as he bites back, “stop hanging out with her. You’re getting more dramatic day by day.”
The conversation is cut short when one of the elderly walks in their direction with a tray in his hand. Yibo quickly tries to take it from his hand as the man looks so fragile that Yibo is scared he trips if the chilly night wind dare blows his way.
“Young men, you guys should join us. We have a lot of baijiu to last the entire season! Hahaha!” His laughter is cut short as he gets into a fit of dry coughing. Taiyu gets closer as he urges the man to take a sit with them.
“Aiyo, Yang-jiujiu. Don’t bother about us young men. We have a long life ahead of us to enjoy all kind of baijiu of the middle kingdom,” Yibo says with a wide playful grin plastered on his face. The old man turned to him with a hard look, chiding, “are you calling me old?” Yibo raises both hands in defiance meanwhile Taiyu watches both with an amused expression. “Eh, are you accusing me of such mortal crime? I didn’t say anything!” Yibo once again cackles when Yang Cang grabs a jar and pretends to threaten him with it.
Taiyu pushes the injury to the back of his mind as he shakes his head at the younger man’s mischief. He can get Wanqing to check on Yibo first thing tomorrow morning. Right now, they have a trayful of baijiu that the old man has kindly brought over to enjoy as they watch the party goes on until late at night.
Yibo wakes up the next morning to the sound of his eastern imperial eagle dropping carrion on his table. Taiyu probably came earlier that morning to open the window of his house. Yibo is not exactly the kind to sleep in or a late riser but the booze from last night really knocked him out good. His body that he has been rebelling against finally compensating on the well-needed rest.
He is planning to go to the creek again today, to give himself the shock to get rid of the remaining alcohol running in his system as well as to clear his mind. The obvious drop in temperature lately has been bothering him as they might be facing a harsher winter while running on the usual amount of stock.
He barely gets one arm into his sleeve, biting the hiss as his muscle pulls on the wound on his shoulder when Wanqing comes barging in with a handful of medicine, looking all welcomed in front of her unsuspecting host. Yibo grimaces at the smell of strong herbs immediately permeating in the small enclosure of his house.
“Welcome, come on in. Make yourself at home,” Yibo says to the young woman with sarcasm dripping in his tone like pure honey. “Thank you. I’m deeply humbled to be invited into Your Venerable house. This lowly servant is at your service,” Wangqing bites back, dipping her head in a bow mockingly. Despite the tone, there is a lack of intent in their behaviours.
Yibo discards his undershirt again, turning slightly to the side to let Wangqing do her job.
“Is this really Wang Yibo? What did Lao-Gao feed you?” Wangqing is a bit taken aback by the lack of fight. She usually spends half a day chasing the younger man around before he relents. And that is after he gets surrounded by his men who insist he gets treated properly before their next endeavour.
“Shut up and make it quick. Also, can you pick up that hare? I haven’t given Wang E her morning kiss yet so she’s craving some attention,” Yibo tells Wangqing, his mouth pointing like a duck’s beak to where the bird of prey is perched on the sill, looking curiously their way. “Eew,” Wangqing shrieks, “no way am I touching that stuff. Also, stop insulting this poor animal. You can give it a better name instead of calling it a goose.”
Yibo’s eyes widen comically, looking insulted when yet another person complains about his choice of name for his loyal pet. “Excuse me, Mu-guniang. You are literally about to insert heaven knows what into a gashing, open wound on my body and you can’t even feed the carrion to my darling? Also, what’s wrong with goose? That’s such a backhanded comment. You’re looking down on the waterfowl.” Yibo brightens up when the animal lets out a shout and sharp scream, almost like she is participating in the conversation.
“Okay, okay, enough. I will get this done quickly so you can do whatever you want with xiao-E,” Yibo’s face cracks in half as he grins at the imperial eagle still watching curiously their way and looking guarded when her master suddenly yelps when Wangqing begins her treatment without any warning.
Yibo arrives at the creek when the sun has risen higher on the cloudless sky. The warmth barely reaching him as the cold wind blows all around him, sweeping the red leaves off the forest floor into the steady stream of water. The area is quiet with no sign of another human, proven in the many encounters he has with wild, unsuspecting deer whenever he decides to visit the creek. To be fair, the valley they live in is already quite a distance away from the main trade road. This creek that Yibo always comes back to is even further than that, requiring one to waltz through the thick greens that on full bloom, you cannot even peek at the sky, and try to not get lose or killed by predators on the way.
The bandit has sent his Aquila to escort a group of bandits that have been out of town for a solid week now. And that is after a lot of feeding to make sure Wang E behaves without him nearby. His men will need the Aquila to deliver messages to him quicker.
He immediately sheds his upper garment and boots once he arrives by the shore, arranging them on one of the wide river stones. Contrary to his robust image, Yibo likes his things really organise. And honestly, that merits him the title of the bandit leader after they founded the small village. What he lacks in strength or precision, he makes up with his brain to strategize. You will not survive as long as they did if you rely on instinct and barbaric behaviour alone.
Yibo holds himself back from a full-body shiver on his first step into the bone-chilling water. The advice to keep his wound dry by Wangqing earlier that day thrown out the window as he sits behind a huge stone, where the current cannot sweep him down the stream as he concentrates on his running thoughts.
The mood of festivity from last night is not going to last long, he realises that. And Yibo knows deep down the people know it too. It was merely a poor attempt at feigning ignorance at the brewing storm coming their way, the survival of the fittest. With the little education he picks up on his travel and the people he met in the village, Yibo notes that the weather changes quite early this year. There is even a sign that winter is coming real soon, a promise to bury them in feet-deep snow. Not only that, but they also must be on the lookout twice as much compared to previous years, looking for targets that are decreasing in number with war brewing in every corner of the kingdom. It is rare that the villagers pick up on the news regarding the kingdom they left behind, but the political brawl is bad enough to even reach the farthest civilisation.
Despite the circumstances they live in, it is still hard even to Yibo himself if they must bury more villagers this year during the cold season. It is always the hardest around this time of the year. They have elderlies that are ready to pass on anytime soon among them, pregnant ladies, young children, even former bandits that could no longer go on a mission after sustaining a grave injury. As much as he hates to admit it, Yibo does not want to lose more of his men. He has no intention of going back to be a civilian of the royal kingdom.
Time goes by as his body finally adapts to the low temperature surrounding it. The cheery chirping of birds on bare branches and the steady current slowly lulls him into a peaceful state of meditation. Letting his mind wanders, visiting memories he does not realise he still has.
“Xiao-Bo, come here.” The small puffy-cheeked child waddled to a woman; whose face obscured by the fog of his fragmented memories. He barely made out her outfit, maybe it was worn down by times, maybe it was the texture of the fabric.
“Xiao-Bo, leave,” Just when the child reached the woman, he was suddenly pushed, landing on his back as the woman let out a shrill scream.
Haw!
Yibo jerks when the scream turns into a shriek from the sky above. He squints and notices a huge beast circling the sky before coming his way. Instead of landing on his body, Wang E settles on the pile of clothes Yibo left on the boulder at the riverside.
There is a small parchment tied securely on one of her talons. Yibo quickly rises from his seat, dripping wet as he climbs up the shore and retrieving the treat pouch to feed the Aquila before retrieving the note on her.
He recognises at first glance the clean scribble. The four strokes for ‘WANG’ can only mean one thing.
Yibo feels light in his steps, almost like floating, as he speeds back to their hidden village. No one pays attention to him despite the clear excitement radiating off him. After putting his clothes back on, Yibo immediately sent Wang E back to his men before leaving the creek with thousands of possibilities playing out in his mind.
It does not take long for him to weave through the small village, dodging kids playing chase and villagers milling around either with a basket of laundry or a pile of wood, to get to Taiyu. The older man is perched on the sturdy bark of a plum tree a little to the north of the courtyard. Yibo follows his line of vision and sees Wangqing doing a check-up on a pregnant woman in a small house not far from where they are at. Yibo almost feels half-bad for the news he is about to tell the other man.
“Hey, I got good news.” Taiyu just quirks his brows without moving his eyes, arms still crossed on his chest. His face is void of any obvious infatuated look, but the tips of his ears are a little red as he keeps staring at the doctor. “Coming from you? There’s never good news,” he replies absentmindedly.
Ignoring the jibe, Yibo continues explaining, “Maihua just got back to me.” At the mention of the bandit’s name, Taiyu perks and finally moves from his position, staring at the younger man with something in his eyes. “Took him eight nights to finally reach out, huh.” Yibo completely misses the way Taiyu’s tone seems to be holding something back.
“We should meet up with him soon. I think we’re about to get our biggest catch ever yet.” There is finally concern written over Taiyu’s face as he looks closer at the mirthful glint in the younger’s clear dark eyes.
The band consists of only a dozen strong and lithe men, all dressed inconspicuously as they pull on the leashes of three stallions to blend in with the merchants crossing path with them. Yibo had quickly gathered his best men after informing Taiyu about the ‘good news’ to meet up with the other dozen stationed at a town three-quarter of a day walk away. It is a busy town but not too big to be considered a city.
The whole ordeal is still bugging Taiyu that he can still see Wangqing’s furrowed brows and feel her strong grip on his arm. There is nagging at the back of his mind and when he tries to confront Yibo about it, he just brushes it off.
“And now I suddenly have to care about the heir of the throne? Tsk. Listen to yourself, ge,” was Yibo’s reply word-by-word when he objected to the idea of kidnapping a royalty. There has been word of mouth going around for a while now that the king has been sending his princes to negotiate with the autonomous cities near the border. With the brewing political tension, the young leader of the bandits thinks it is the perfect time to threaten the royalty. Taiyu on the other hand is worried about the risks behind causing more frictions in the already course situation.
“Gao Taiyu stop thinking. I can hear your brain rattling,” Yibo whispers without turning his head. His sharp eyes focus on the path ahead of them. With the slowly retreating sun, the road has become less crowded as people usually avoid travelling at night. The older retaliates by pulling on the swishing ponytail of the younger, also a way to ease the tension that is also slowly growing between them due to the difference in opinion.
“Talk for yourself,” he whispers back, and they continue the journey after that with less talking unless necessary.
The band of twelve bandits arrives at the town the very next morning, not stopping for long even when their only companion is the full moon hanging over their head. They are people that are much more comfortable moving in the shadow after all.
Yibo leads them to an alley, walking deeper until they arrive at an inn that is less auspicious and looking more beaten compared to the others scattered along the main road of the town. The young teenager that is sweeping the dry leaves immediately look up from his task when he sees the boots of the bandit leader. His young face immediately splits into a wide business smile as he ushers the rugged-looking men into the inn.
Compared to the shabby exterior, there are several other patrons enjoying their wine silently on the first floor by the lobby. Yibo lets his right-hand man settles the stuff with the owner staring at them from behind a counter as he makes his way further back, to where he can see Shou Maihua’s head peeking in the darker corner. He has a bowl of rice and two jars of baijiu served on the low table, only looking up when Yibo stops directly on the stool opposite him.
“How have you been?” Maihua smiles when he hears the other’s greeting. Yibo settles into the stool and takes one of the baijiu before chugging the content straight from the jar. “Not going straight to business, lao-Wang?” The other man teased. There is nothing on him that can give away his real identity as one of the notorious bandits. Maihua has his hair pulled into a low bun at the back of his head, some strands falling on the side of his face, chin freshly shaved. But Yibo knows better than to not be fooled. The older man probably has knives of varying sizes and shapes hidden in the lapel of his shirts and even his boots if the bow and arrows he always carries fail to keep people away.
“We can catch up later. Taiyu probably assigns the three of us in the same room again.” This time Yibo has a familiar grin tugging on his mouth, finally displaying his familiarity with the other guy. Shou Maihua is actually his longest companion, they escaped their old lives together and only months later when they finally found refuge in the village where Gao Taiyu came from, did they meet the latter. Maihua is the first elder brother that Yibo has, not to mention he is even older than Taiyu by a good year.
Maihua’s bright expression does not waver as he slides a piece of paper across the table. It is a notice by the mayor notifying the people about the soon arrival of an important figure. He continues munching on his rice and side dishes as Yibo scans the poster, again and again, gear whirring in his head. It is written two days ago. Maihua probably took a day to verify the identity before reaching out to him.
They still have two days before the prince arrives in town. They have enough time to scout the place and plan everything. Yibo feels the jitter in him, something close to excitement. As well as a fear he tries to ignore that has been planted by Taiyu’s constant objection. He had told the older man to stay behind if he really does not one to be part of the plan, but the latter insists, he will not let his younger brother out of his sight when he is about to jump straight into the tiger’s cage.
Yibo is accompanied by Maihua as they walk around the busy town centre. Taiyu decides to stay behind, maybe have a talk with the others as they plan their moves. He has a great skill at raising people’s spirit. Yibo on the other hand would probably to blunt, his words may backfire.
“What do you think?” Maihua suddenly asks, his face looking straight ahead, relaxed, with his hands tucked on his back. “About?” Yibo asks, confusion clear in his tone. This time, Maihua turns to face him, a gentle smile still on his face. Sometimes Yibo himself cannot imagine this is the same man that beheaded his old master with an axe Yibo used to chop firewood. “About what you’re going to do to the prince.”
The younger takes his time to ponder on his answer. He has taken all night, maybe even his entire waking moment, thinking about the way to milk everything out of this mission. There is no guarantee and for the five years that he has spent doing this job, he knows not to have such a high expectation and to always be prepared for anything. Their target may not be what they thought would be.
“I don’t know,” he breaks the silence after a while. He repeats it again and Maihua seems to be satisfied with his answer, nodding and smiling before turning his face back to their surroundings.
Wang E is perched on Yibo’s broad shoulder as he peeks from behind the bamboo. The forest is thick, a few li away from town, and it is still quite early in the morning. But he can already see the ostentatious palanquin, symbolising high class and wealth. There is a lot of burly men surrounding it, one in particular looking like the royal personal guard, walking side by side with a eunuch.
Yibo can see Maihua and his guys ready with their gong and nu a little further in the darkness, where the archers can shoot their arrows precisely without being seen. Taiyu is much nearer to the clearing, ready with his jian. But out of all twenty-four of them, Yibo is much easier to spot if one looks closely at their surroundings. He is much further in front of the royal entourage, where the bamboos grow sparsely.
The young man readjusts his mask covering the lower part of his face, he pulls his douli further down as he counts the steps of the approaching man. By seven, he stretches his arm out so Wang E can be ready before he releases her at ten.
The imperial guards’ reflexes are much faster than their usual victims, but within the short amount of time that they managed to stun the men, the bandits have managed to at least shoot down three of the guards, ending them instantly. One of the crossbowmen manages to shoot at one of the carriers. The palanquin shakes before the guard falls onto his knees as he grunts at the pain shooting up his spine.
The swordmen quickly emerge, not wasting time or waiting for Yibo because they know the imperial guards are not easy opponents. Yibo spares a glance at his Aquila perch on a tall branch. After making sure she is safe, Yibo quickly jumps in front of the royal entourage, his aim clearly for the palanquin.
He only manages to behead a guard and amputate another one before he receives a strong kick to his gut that almost sends him falling on his back. He comes face to face with the fu-wielding personal guard. The guard is built lean, but still taller than Yibo as his face is hard as he swings the fu the latter’s way.
Yibo has his jian raised but it was met with nothing as Taiyu counters the attack, successfully averting the guard’s attention.
This time Yibo makes quick work, letting him get a little more savage than usual, every swing of his sword whooshing with murder intent. All the time arrows have not stopped flying around them as some guards finally start moving to where the archers are positioned.
Yibo waltzes his way around the palanquin, avoiding swords and blades, letting himself be bathed in blood, both of his brothers and his enemies before he arrived at the opening of the vehicle. He kicks the eunuch that is trying futilely to block his way. Stepping on his chest as Yibo reaches his arm inside. He tries pulling the arm he catches out but receives a fight in return. The prince does not budge so Yibo peeks his head inside.
He does not expect to come face to face with a defiant looking man dressed grandiosely. His pupils shrink in fear, but his mouth is set hard into a thin line as he fights back the tug on his limb. Yibo himself is growing irritated at the display of stubbornness. He is not trying to kill the prince, but the urge is slowly bubbling up inside him. Before he loses his patience, Yibo tries tugging one last time. His grip is tighter this time that the prince cannot help from stumbling out of the palanquin.
The commotion immediately halts when they realise the bandits have got their hands on the prince. Not just his hand, there is a jian rested against the jugular vein of the royalty. Yibo moves his weapon a bit, breaking the skin and letting the slightest amount of blood trickle on the silver blade.
The eunuch that was trying to stop him before rises to his knee and goes to hug Yibo’s leg. The young bandit is already pissed as is, so he is very grateful when one of the archers quickly gets rid of the person clinging to him.
“Yan Song!” the prince screams as he witnesses the death of the eunuch. Another bandit that is standing nearby stabbed him right through the chest. The prince inside Yibo’s arm struggles some more, leading to a deeper cut on his neck.
“Your Highness!” reprimands the personal guard. There is finally a shift in his face, he has not moved a step after seeing the threat on his prince. “Calm down or you will get killed!” his voice is raised even higher when the prince continues thrashing in the bandit’s hold. “I don’t care-“
The man’s rambling is cut short when the guard once again yells at him and mention his father. “Alright, alright. Enough yelling. You’re obviously at a disadvantage here, big guy. You know what to do,” Yibo mocks under his mask, he points with his covered chin at the weapon in the man’s hand. The fu is discarded almost hesitantly by the body of one of the bandits.
“Good boy. Now get on your knees.” Yibo finds amusement in humiliating the imperial guard as the prince breaks down into a pile of sobbing mess, gripping tightly on his arm with his smaller hands. “I honestly prefer not having to spare you but you’re the only one here that can finish the job for us.” There is an evil glint in his eyes as he steps backwards a few times with the prince still secure in his arm. The distance grows along with the tension in the guard’s shoulder. “Go back to your master and tell them we want everything, treasure, gold, medicines. We give you time until the next full moon. Same place, same time. Or this pretty boy is going to lose his head.” The guard tenses at the last threat before the bandits retreat slowly into the forest, leaving him alone kneeling on the cold forest floor.
“Let me go, you lowly scum!” The prince struggles again in the hold of two men on his side. They both have each end of the rope that binds his torso, pulling the knot tighter every time he fights back. Yibo still has his mask on despite already putting away the douli. His hair is let loose, flowing down his shoulders as he walks in front of the pack.
The prince is barely afraid anymore, currently seething in anger at the way the bandits do not hesitate to kill people, not sparing even the defenceless one.
“We’re going to camp out for the night, find a place to bury them and recharge before we head back at dawn,” Yibo finally turns around when they get even further from the main road. The men who have been pulling the carriage with the bodies of the fallen bandits nod once before parting with the band. “And you. Don’t tempt me to gag your pretty mouth.” His glare is sharp, making the prince squirms under the intensity.
After making sure their surrounding is clear and safe to camp for the night, the bandits pull down, or even remove, their masks, including the leader. Wang E quickly lands on his shoulder right after, cawing for a treat.
Taiyu, who looks beaten himself, throws a pouch at Yibo. The younger mutters his thanks as he pulls out a slice of meat for the Aquila. The beast flies back to rest on the tree after getting what she wants. All the while, the prince’s face contorted, probably in disgust. Yibo decides to mess with him and reach out to put the meat right under his nose, “what are you looking at? Do you want it too?” He smirks when the prince scoffs, face red from trying to hold his breath.
Much to the crown prince’s surprise, the bind locking his limb slowly loosen until the rope falls into a heap by his legs. He is caught in his shock that he does not realise Yibo has taken one of his wrists and locking it to a bulky handcuff connected to the latter’s opposite hand. “Got to keep the pretty young prince away from the wolf,” he whispers close to the prince’s face.
After making sure everyone has settled as comfortably as they can manage, Yibo pulls his captive along with him to the direction where his men came back after cleaning themselves. He feels grimy himself, dried blood on his clothes and maybe even some on his face.
The crunches of leaves under their feet are sporadic as the prince tries to stand his ground. “Xiao. Zhan,” Yibo seethes through his teeth, turning around to glare sharply at the crown prince. The tall prince’s jaw goes unhinge when he hears his birthname slipping past the bandit’s chapped lips. Yibo takes that opportunity to literally drag him down the hill until they arrive at the river.
The bandit throws the sack containing a change of clothes onto the boulder, turning around to stare at his captive dead in the eyes. “I’m going to uncuff you so we can clean up before we head back to the village. Don’t do anything stupid or I will do an unimaginable thing to you. Understand?”
Xiao Zhan continues staring until Yibo raises his voice and repeats his words. “Yes, sir!” Xiao Zhan stammers dumbly.
Satisfied, Yibo goes to reach into his undershirt to pull out the key hanging on his chest. However, Xiao Zhan immediately does the most stupid thing he has ever done right after that. The bandit has pinned the prince under him almost in a blink of an eye when the latter takes a step back, attempting an escape. The prince’s face grows a little red from how Yibo is pinning his neck with his strong arm, his whole body hovering dangerously above Xiao Zhan.
“Try that again and I’m going to devour you,” Yibo leans closer to the prince’s face, their lips a breath width apart, subsequently making Xiao Zhan grows redder in the face.
And that is how Xiao Zhan finds himself stripped to his pants before getting hauled into a pair of strong arms and dropped into the cold river like a helpless boulder. He quickly emerges on the surface, gasping at the sudden change in temperature. “What the- Holy! Are you trying to kill me?!” Xiao Zhan shrieks louder when he comes face-to-face with Yibo who is deliberately taking off one garment at a time while keeping eye contact with the drenched prince.
“What? Want me to bath you too, now?” Xiao Zhan feigns a scoff as he turns his reddening face away, muttering under his breath, “Cutsleeve.” Yibo’s brows jump upon hearing this, a slow smirk appearing on his face while he blatantly checks out the shivering prince. “Yeah? And you got any problem with that?”
Xiao Zhan is so baffled that he shuts his eyes tightly when Yibo who is still leering at him finally walks into the body of water, looking completely unfazed by the low temperature. He can feel the water swishing gently around him as the man waddles closer to him, but he dares not to open his eyes until he is sure the man has stopped moving.
The prince gasps scandalously when he sees the other shirtless man sitting an arms width away from him, looking nonchalant as he washes the grime off his toned body.
They arrive at the valley by midmorning. Xiao Zhan has not stop fussing about the dull clothes he had been forced to change into, but after getting a glare from Taiyu, the prince immediately lowers his voice before transitioning to griping inside his mind. There is a pout prominent on his cherry lips that seems to amuse Yibo who is walking right behind him. Xiao Zhan has been trying his best in ignoring the looming presence behind him. They are so near that sometimes their shoulders would brush and Yibo slowing down his pace so he can remain behind the prince.
What Xiao Zhan does not expect, however, is the bandits’ lair to look like… a normal village. From atop the hill, by the steps entering the valley, he can clearly see some kids playing chase, the women doing laundry and some men who are carrying loads scolding the children for almost bumping into them. He feels a nudge on the small of his back which successfully pulls him out of his thought. Yibo is breathing down his neck as they receive stares from the other bandits who are already halfway down the wooden stairs.
“What place is this? I don’t think I’ve seen it in the map of the kingdom,” Xiao Zhan turns to the bandit standing beside him. Yibo looks at him sceptically, cynical as he replies, “yeah? Well because we’re not part of the kingdom.”
The prince does not know what to make out of that. He is baffled, to say the least. How can a place that is so obviously still within the border, not be a part of the kingdom? Instead, he blurts, “but, isn’t that illegal? You’re not paying taxes like the others.” This manages to pique the other’s interest as he stares funnily at Xiao Zhan that the latter begins to feel self-conscious. He dumbly runs his hand on his face when Yibo still does not say anything and continue staring at him. “Well, Your Royal Highness the Crown Prince, I’m sorry to break it to you but renegades exist outside of your peaceful and colourful life inside the palace. And why would we worry about paying taxes when we never get a lick out of it? It’s not like we have much interaction with the outside world,” Yibo explains before he drapes his arm over the taller’s shoulder, urging him to keep moving.
“You literally rob other people from the outside world,” Xiao Zhan tries again. Everyone around them seems unfazed by his arrival as they make their way further into the village. He suspects most of them probably does not know who he really is, especially the young kids. “Oh, you got it wrong there, darling. We don’t rob just from anyone. We rob the real robbers so we can feed ourselves.” Xiao Zhan fights back the shiver he feels when Yibo’s gaze turns to him with something akin to sadistic malignant intent.
“Now, get yourself comfortable at your new home. I will send someone to fetch you later,” Yibo says and without preamble, pushing the prince until he stumbles up the steps to the house they had stopped at.
When Wang Yibo said ‘someone’, Xiao Zhan immediately has the image of yet another one of the fearsome-looking bandits. Not a child who is just half his height, staring up at him funnily as the kid props his hands on his waist in front of the prince. “Da-ge says we have a new brother, and I was so excited to finally have someone call me da-ge,” the child grumbles as he continues looking at Xiao Zhan critically. The prince is part amused and part sympathetic to the kid’s fate. But he is also curious about the guy the kid just addressed as ‘da-ge’. He has the impression that the bandit is so much younger than him judging by his look but why does it seem like he is the elder of the village.
“Da-ge? Who’s da-ge?” Xiao Zhan baits the kid, who he himself has not introduce his name to the newcomer. “Wang Yibo-ge, of course! Anyway, why do you care so much about Bo-ge? You’re under my care now. I’m Xiao Yifeng.” Xiao Zhan perks up at the kid’s introduction as they begin walking to the village centre, although it looks more like a courtyard where everyone is doing all kind of things.
“Oh? What a coincidence! I’m Xiao Zhan. I guess I can call you Feng-ge, after all,” the prince declares cheerfully to the utter confusion of the boy. “You’re weird,” is his only reply as they make a swift turn to the left where more communal buildings seem to be located.
“That’s the infirmary,” Yifeng points to a wooden house built at the end of the road. The windows are open and the wind blows along with the smell of herbs and other unnamed medicines. “You guys even have an infirmary?” Xiao Zhan turns to look down at his guide as he inquires. Yifeng stares at him for a good minute before answering, “of course. This place may be small, but we have everything. We even have Wangqing-jie who can cure any illnesses and even teach us how to write on her free days.”
Just then, a woman with long flowy hair walks out of the infirmary, holding a small pouch in her hand. Xiao Zhan’s brows peak when Taiyu emerges from behind, looking a little dishevelled. The prince notes how the woman suddenly flushes as Taiyu clears his throat before going on his way.
“Hello, Qing-jie! We were just talking about you. Here, meet Zhan-ge. Da-ge said he is going to stay with us at the dorm,” Yifeng introduces him without preamble so Xiao Zhan hurries to salute the superior-looking woman. “O-oh. Hello, Wangqing-laoshi. I’m Xiao Zhan.” When he looks up, he sees the woman in question looking at him with a judging expression, though there is nothing bad behind it. More like she is assessing the newcomer.
“You don’t look like you belong in the orphanage. What exactly did that kid Yibo do this time?” One time everyone is addressing the bandit with such a tremendous amount of respect and the next there will be a person who looks at him like he is a mere teen who just got hit by puberty, which gives Xiao Zhan whiplash. “Ah- umm… well.”
Xiao Zhan is saved from his dilemma when the man himself suddenly appears beside them.
“Come on, jie. What’s wrong with living with the boys. They have extra beds there anyway. What, you rather leave me alone with such a beautiful man?” Yibo flashes a smirk and an attempted wink that does not fail in making the prince blush. “Stop being a creep, Yibo. Here, Taiyu wants me to prepare this for you. Just try to not get killed for once, will you? You’re using up too much of the medicine we have left,” Wangqing scolds as she hands the pouch earlier to the grumbling man.
“A-Feng, what are you still doing here? Didn’t I tell you to show the new guy around?” Yibo suddenly turns his attention back to the two spectators. Yifeng quickly scampers off, tugging on Xiao Zhan’s sleeve as they leave the infirmary to finish the tour around the village.
After finishing the round around the village, Yifeng has left Xiao Zhan with a group of elderlies who are collecting water from the well to do the laundry and prepare the dishes in the communal kitchen. The boy said he needs to get back to Yibo to continue their lesson on braiding hair. Xiao Zhan did not manage to get out of his stupor from the sudden revelation in time when the kid already dashed to where the bandit being mentioned were spotted with a bunch of kids.
Xiao Zhan definitely does not feel his heart suddenly stuttering when he sees Yibo pulling Yifeng to sit beside him while he braids the hair of a little girl who is seated in his laps, face bright with a youthful smile.
“A-yi, don’t you think this is too bland? Why not add some more chilli into it? It would help in this weather,” Xiao Zhan gulps when the old lady turns to look at him and clicking her tongue. His hand however has not stop stirring the congee, afraid of getting hit again. “Aiyah, this kid. Can you be more obedient and stop asking so many questions. You’re not the only one who’s going to eat this,” the old lady huffs, leaving the prince sulking in front of the wok.
After scooping the food into individual bowls, the old lady suddenly scoots closer and clears her throat, catching the prince’s attention. “Ahem… A-Bo cannot tolerate spice, so we have to adjust the food to his liking. You can this into your dish later.” She slides a small ceramic jar towards the unsuspecting prince, the latter beaming at her but before he can thank her, she goes back to her strict demeanour.
After distributing the food, Xiao Zhan goes to take his seat beside his ‘Feng-ge’. The kid is so busy stammering over a sentence that he does not even spare the prince a glance. Letting his amusement at the child’s innocent crush fades, Xiao Zhan turns his head around to find the other familiar faces. It is only with a little squinting does he finally spot the man. But he quickly looks away when he realises the man on the veranda is already staring at him.
Xiao Zhan kinds of losing track of how many days has it been since he was ‘kidnapped’. It’s not like he never tried to escape but every attempt he made failed due to him underestimating the bandits’ ability. He even found himself punished one time. Not in a harmful way, but he was still tossed into the infirmary where Mu Wangqing was sorting her herbs and one familiar Yibo with his nose deeply buried in a book. He was forced to transcribe excerpts from books – that were very likely to have been stolen from officials – until Yang Cang’s roosters cluck at the break of dawn.
He did not just spend days thinking about how Yibo had silently helped him finish at least half of the task. There was no doubt Wangqing knew about it, with the way her brow quirked when Xiao Zhan handed the papers. Yibo has the handwriting of a toddler while Xiao Zhan’s is what you may expect from someone from his class.
More often than not he feels himself being stared at while going around, helping the villagers, and sometimes even visiting the infirmary to learn some stuff from the doctor. Xiao Zhan even accompanied Yifeng to his ‘Braiding Class with Yibo da-ge’ one time. And that is the opportunity for Xiao Zhan to stare back at the man who has been watching him as an eagle would to a prey.
Xiao Zhan bites the back of his hand to stifle his giggles. Yang Cang emerges from his small house to check on his frantic chickens. Yibo only managed to pull out a couple from the coop before the prince pulled him to run up the hill right behind the house. They managed to duck behind the bush when the old man realises someone has been messing with his animals.
“You’re so mean!” Xiao Zhan accuses the bandit in a small voice. The old man looks a little disgruntled after being woken up by his chickens screaming in the middle of the night. He looks around, looking for any sign of a human in the dead of the night before rushing back inside his house. The chickens have been safely locked inside the coop again.
“Hey! You said you were bored so I’m taking you out for some entertainment. I didn’t expect you to want a whole play instead,” Yibo mocks back. There is a playful grin on his face, his youthfulness amplified by the way his long hair is tied high on his head with a dull blue ribbon. Xiao Zhan hits him on the shoulder and stares at the younger man with wide eyes. “I didn’t say that. And I do not condone bullying an old man.”
Yibo scoffs and rolls his eyes playfully. “Yang-jiujiu won’t mind. He is a youthful old man, you know.” The younger man feels his heart swells when the prince’s eyes crinkle adorably again, feeling proud for successfully tickling Xiao Zhan’s funny bone. “Yeah, right.”
“Hey,” Yibo suddenly calls out when Xiao Zhan is so immersed in looking at their surroundings. There is actually no guard in this area. Probably because as Yibo mentioned earlier, the forest is thicker on this side of the village and guarding against a human intruder is better than fighting against nocturnal beasts.
Xiao Zhan hums as he turns his head to the side. Yibo is already staring at him like the moon is hanging on his face and that effectively makes him flush from the neck up. The prince would rather the blood rush down south so the thick layer of his robes can obscure it from other’s view but of course no- Xiao Zhan curses internally.
“I’m sorry,” the bandit suddenly whispers. Xiao Zhan strains to hear it but he still has confusion written all over his face. “For kidnapping me?” He intends it as a joke but winces at Yibo’s crestfallen expression. “Well, that too. I’m sorry for bailing on our session this afternoon.”
The prince takes a while to process the information. He goes through the stuff that has been going on lately. He has never been this busy in his life before but somehow despite the increase in the number of chores, he does not feel as stressed as when he was handed another report about some political feuds within the kingdom.
The lightbulb moment comes a minute later, and he does not manage to stop his face from expressing his real feeling when he realises how Yibo looks even more guilty now. “Oh… don’t worry about that. I know Maihua has been with you the longest. Of course, you have to prioritise his need.” Xiao Zhan convinces himself that he is not sounding like he just chugs a crate worth of vinegar when he remembers stumbling upon Yibo being kissed so roughly near the storage hut when he went looking for him that afternoon.
“But I want to spend time with you, instead!” Yibo quickly defends himself. He looks eager as he goes to take Xiao Zhan’s hands. There is a tint of red on the apple of his cheeks, but Xiao Zhan cannot make it out clearly as they only have the moon shining down upon them. It is true they have spent a lot of times together lately and their relationship – friendship – consequentially grows. One particular task he always looks forward to is when he has to teach Yibo how to write properly. The progress is slow, but the strokes is much better than the chicken scratch that they were before. In return, Yibo gifted him a small dagger that the younger had taught him to carve wood with. He does not expect someone like Yibo to be interested in any form of art, but it is something they bonded over.
And that is why he squeezes the hands holding his while giving the young bandit a tender smile of his own. “Mn, I like spending time with you too.”
When the night grows colder and they ran out of villagers to mess with, not even sparing the fierce doctor of the village, Yibo pulls Xiao Zhan into his house instead of sending him back to the house located at the back of the village where the prince is ‘kept captive’ with young orphans.
“Wow! I can’t believe I didn’t realise it’s so cold outside.” Xiao Zhan rushes to the fire pit where a kettle is hung right above it. Yibo follows right behind him, shedding the thicker layers as he enters the comfort of his own house. It is a pretty small house, but the lack of furniture and ornaments make it looks sparse.
Yibo holds back from cooing at how adorable the tall man bundles up by the fire. “Hey, let me comb your hair. It will help to warm your neck,” he offers, already hovering behind the prince.
Xiao Zhan turns his head to look up at the younger man, his expression innocent as he grants him permission. After receiving the green light, Yibo walks to his dresser and retrieves a small wooden comb with his mother’s name etched on it. He has never let anyone uses it, but Xiao Zhan is not just ‘anyone’.
With nimble fingers, he slowly unpins the bun on top of the older’s head, keeping it in the lapel of his shirt. He runs his fingers down the smooth length. It used to be so silky and straight, but the stay has changed the texture of the prince’s hair into a slight wave. For Yibo personally, it really does something to enhance Xiao Zhan’s already-ethereal beauty.
Yibo does not realise he began humming a tune while combing and detangling the long dark locks of the prince until the latter stops him by taking his hand into his hold.
“What song is that?” There is a serious look on Xiao Zhan’s face when he turns around that it takes Yibo a bit by surprise. He stammers an answer, “I-I don’t know. I think… I think I heard it from my mother.”
This is the first time Yibo ever voluntarily mentions his biological family. Not even Taiyu knows much about his past. Yibo himself prefers to never bring it up, only occasionally letting the bits and pieces of his childhood memory consume him. And that is when he fully lets his guard down and getting so deep in his thoughts.
Xiao Zhan repeats Yibo’s words in a low whisper, looking like he’s trying to rack his brain. “Why do I think I’ve heard it before?” Upon saying it, he does not miss the way Yibo visibly flinches and pales. There is something the man is clearly not telling him. And it is something that he probably thinks is his biggest weakness.
“I- I…” Xiao Zhan stays quiet, pulling the man to sit beside him, huddling closer so they can share the warmth. He does not push but lets his stare linger on Yibo’s sharp profile. Up close, he can see why Maihua is so infatuated with the man. The sudden thought jerks him into a state of jealousy that he almost misses Yibo’s tiny, quiet voice.
“My mother is a royal concubine. Was… I think. I have a feeling she is no longer here with me,” Yibo whispers the secret like only Xiao Zhan can hear it and not even the ground beneath them or the sky above can know. “Royal concubine…” Xiao Zhan does a little calculation inside his mind, and gasps when he finally connects the dot. His father has been the king ever since he began having memories. “Oh… I didn’t know,” is what Xiao Zhan says in return.
The prince knows very well it sounds dumb and he does not know if saying sorry would suffice. After all, he is not the one in Yibo’s shoes. It is strange for the palace to take in a woman with a child as a concubine. Unless the king is really infatuated by the lady. And that never means well. Xiao Zhan began seeing his parents as human instead of parental figures at a very tender age. He is both lucky and doomed for being exposed to the truth so early. That is probably why he is not really favoured in court apart from being the son of a concubine.
But that leaves the possibility of…
“Stop making that face, ge. I don’t think we share the same mother. If I remember correctly, she could not get pregnant again after having me. But I don’t know. It was probably because my father died in the war,” Yibo rambles. He sounds unconvinced himself. “Eh, I don’t think you share any similarities with her at all. She’s pretty, well at least I think she is. And you’re beautiful.”
Xiao Zhan whacks him with his sleeve, the laughing man barely dodging the attack. “How does that make any difference?” The prince scoffs but smiles himself. “Well, my mother is still alive, and you said you knew your mother has passed on. So, I don’t think we’re siblings.” He spontaneously grabs Yibo’s hand and intertwines their fingers while looking nonchalant.
“I think I heard that song when I got lost in the palace one day. There is these hidden quarters, far from the main court. It is actually off-limit, but I manage to escape from my attendants. I remember it having a lot of magnolias. It looks very pretty in spring, you know. I’m saying this not just because spring is my favourite season,” the prince pauses his story to nudge at the silent man beside him. Yibo gives him a gentle smile to which Xiao Zhan is so tempted to taste.
“Despite the countless warning to stay away, the quarters were pretty bare. There were barely any servants there, there might be a guard or two, but I didn’t stumble upon them, luckily. That was how I managed to get far enough to peek at a lady that was playing a qin in the pavilion. It was so quiet I could hear her voice clearly from behind the shrub. Since then, I kept coming back whenever I could sneak until one day Zhao Han stopped me.” Yibo stares at Xiao Zhan with a funny expression by the end of his story, “so you were found since the beginning.”
Xiao Zhan just shrugs, a silly smile on his face before he breaks into a fit of giggles. It is both endearing and contagious as Yibo joins him.
The two bring the feeling of nostalgia back to Yibo’s bed that can barely fit two grown men – two tall and well-built grown men, to be precise. Xiao Zhan uses his free hand to draw constellation on the ceiling, explaining to Yibo the stuff he must learn as the crown prince while the latter stares at his profile.
Yibo barely notices the fading of Xiao Zhan’s voice until his eyes meet with the latter’s. It is not clear who moves first but Yibo finds himself leaning on his arm as he turns to kiss the prince gently on his mouth. It is the sweet, gentle, close-mouthed kiss. There is no rush as they explore the feelings that explode upon contact.
The kiss feels so different from when Maihua pushed him against the tree just a few days ago. This kiss feels right and reciprocated.
Xiao Zhan slowly opens his mouth to allow entrance into his warm and wet cavern. Yibo, being the enthusiastic learner that he is, tentatively prods on the elder’s front teeth and swipes behind it before he feels Xiao Zhan letting their tongues collide.
The bandit does not resist when he feels the prince gently pushes him onto his back before he climbs and plops himself on top of Yibo’s torso. Yibo’s large hands slowly snake up the prince’s thighs, caressing the firm legs and bathing in the shiver before he rests them on the cinched waist. Xiao Zhan pulls away first to gasp for air, hiding his face in Yibo’s neck, inhaling the musk radiating off the man. He finally relaxes his grips on the bandit’s sleeve when Yibo shushes in his ear while taking those smaller hands into his bigger ones.
“Do you… do you want to…” Yibo halts his whisper, pulling lightly on Xiao Zhan’s hair so he can turn to look him in the face. Xiao Zhan forces the lump back down his throat, he does not know why he got so emotional all of a sudden. “Well, I want you,” the prince whispers before kissing the younger starting from his forehead to his flattering lids, down to his button nose and ending on the side of the lips. “If you want me, of course.”
Yibo does not hold back from crashing his lips on the prince’s already bruised lips. No one ever told him or record how… magical kissing can be. He intends to do it a lot with this man from now on. But right now, he wants more.
After reversing their positions, Yibo rises from the bed to retrieve a jar of oil from the dresser just like the prince told him to. Xiao Zhan has managed to strip down to his birth suit in record time, looking alluring with the front of his robe open, draping scandalously over his private part with the sleeves threaten to fall off his narrow shoulders. Yibo gulps and with a shaky hand places the jar by the pillow to do the same.
Yibo basks in temporary pride when Xiao Zhan gasps quietly while staring at his lower region. “Have you done this before?” The prince suddenly asks when he has scooted close enough to wrap his hand around the semi-erection. It takes everything in Yibo to focus on answering, only managing to shake his head. “N-no. Gege…”
Xiao Zhan bites his bottom lip when hears the man moans his name. “I- me too. But… I’ve read, well, books.” He reaches forward, placing a kiss on the dripping slit, not daring to go any further. He is not sure how it’s supposed to feel or done. And he is scared the hung member will not fit in his mouth.
Yibo quickly wraps his big hand at the back of the prince’s head, dark locks bunching in his hand as he pulls lightly. That manages to illicit the first moan from the older. “Ge, don’t do that. I feel like I’m going to combust.” Xiao Zhan nods and falls back on his back, letting the younger hovers above him.
The bandit wants to scream at his ancestors for not giving him enough strength to face lust and worldly temptation. Xiao Zhan looks sinful, like a menace, all flushed and spread beautifully under him with dark hair spreading like an inky black curtain behind him. “D-dip your fingers in the oil a-and… warm it up,” the prince stutters. Yibo gulps once, twice before nodding dumbly.
His hands shake as he does as he was told. The way Xiao Zhan is looking at him makes him feel small like Wang E’s prey. “Calm down. Take it slowly,” the older man says again in his low, sultry voice. Grabbing the bandit’s hand and helping him with the task before leading it to his most intimate part.
Yibo almost panics when Xiao Zhan winces at the first contact. He does not even breach the tight furl yet, but the prince stops him from pulling his hand away. “I’m okay. It’s okay. Just… take it slowly, okay? Kiss me.”
The order is not much of a task as Yibo gladly complies. When he manages to distract the older enough, he tries pushing his middle finger in again, succeeding this time. The moan he receives is to die for, so he tries to move it and Xiao Zhan does not hold back. Feeling brave, Yibo trails his kiss lower, stopping on the prince’s slender neck. He can feel the muscle move under his ministration before he bites down and sucks a bruise.
Xiao Zhan lets out something akin to a short scream when Yibo leaves bruises on his throat the same time his index finger wiggles into his hole. “Yibo… Bo-ge, it feels so good.” He cannot care less if he is drooling at the moment because it does feel good and he is dying from it.
Yibo, the attentive lover that he is, raises his head a little but instead of going up, he goes down to lather kisses all over the man’s shapely pecs. God, the prince looks so strong and sexy, with perky dark nubs and considerably huge areolas surrounding them. Feeling a bit sadistic, he bites down on the left nub, which he figures to be the more sensitive one based on Xiao Zhan’s reaction, at the same time he slides another finger in the stretched hole.
His hand moves faster as he fingers it open, aiming for that small bundle of nerve he finds that can get Xiao Zhan to get even louder and squirming under him. The older has his knees lock on Yibo’s side by the time the latter is four fingers deep inside him.
“Please… please, I’m ready. Put it in.” Xiao Zhan cannot hold back his tears of pleasure as he tugs on Yibo’s head to stare into the younger’s eyes. Yibo does not delay in lathering his angry, fully erected cock with excessive oil before positioning himself between those welcoming thighs again.
“Fuck…” they groan in unison. The sensation overwhelms every nerve ending in their bodies. Yibo himself feels like crying. He is bursting with feelings that he has not feel for a long time. It is something he remembers from his childhood but not quiet. When he finally calms down, he realises what it is.
He is falling in love with the prince.
If not already in love with him.
Not wanting the older man to see his vulnerable expression, Yibo dives down to capture those sinful lips in a wet, open-mouthed kiss again. He tries to move his hips, and lord heavens! It feels glorious! The wet and tight slide giving him pleasure that not even his tight fist can deliver. He doubts he can jerk off normally after having sex with the prince.
“Yes, like that,” Xiao Zhan urges. Yibo does not expect him to be the dominating kind in bed but he is not complaining. He likes learning new things. He likes it even more if what he is learning is useful for pleasuring his loved one.
“You like that?” Yibo pulls out and leaving only the head inside, catching on the rim, before bottoming out again roughly. He does not care that the resulting scream wakes up the entire village. He wants to hear it more. So he sits on his haunches and wraps those long, hairy legs around his waist, locking the slim ankle on the small of his back.
Xiao Zhan’s skin is glistening from sweat in the candlelight, his gaze hazy as his mouth remains open semi-permanently in the hazy fog of lust. Yibo begins to pick his pace until the sound of slapping skins rival their moans, grunts and groans. He hopes his bed can handle the force as the two men races to reach their peaks. All the while, Xiao Zhan has his hands bunching on the sheet by his head, weeping cock red and unattended. Yibo is not going to help him with the situation as he subconsciously sets the goal to make the prince comes untouched.
And he succeeds.
The older shoots streaks upon streaks of creamy, white cum on the ridges of his forming abs. He is crying freely while Yibo fucks him into oblivion and borderline hypersensitivity. Xiao Zhan is about to kick the younger one away when he finally feels something hot being pumped into his abused hole. He moans once again, weakly this time. It sounds more like a whimper to Yibo’s ears as he empties himself inside the other man.
He can walk for a whole day but having sex with Xiao Zhan? Yibo is ready to pass out.
Yibo wakes up the next morning to a ruckus in front of his house. Yifeng looks both scared and maniacal as he paces in front of Yibo’s door.
“What’s happening?” Yibo asks with one eye still squinting as he wraps his robes loosely around his naked body.
“Zhan-ge is missing!”
That manages to wake Yibo up and that is when he realises the population of the valley has begun to surround the area, looking curious in equal measure. Xiao Zhan takes that moment to emerge from the house, hair tousled but skin glowing in the bright morning sun. He is still rubbing his eyes and bumps into Yibo’s back.
Someone in the crows finally breaks the silence with an understanding, “oh.”
Yibo hurries back inside with the prince after shooing the astounded boy away.
“So, what are we going to do now?” Yibo looks up at the voice over his head. Luo Cheng, one of the oldest bandits, sends him a serious look. Taiyu on the other side glares at the man as Yibo remains silent in his seat. He has his chin in his hands as he ponders over their next move.
Just yesterday, Wang E came back with a report from the men he sent to the town where they kidnapped the prince. Yibo and the others were notified about the absence of the royal entourage. Honestly, the bandits never meant any harm, especially now since Yibo has developed a budding relationship with their ‘captive’. They just want the goods for the upcoming winter in exchange for the prince. In fact, Xiao Zhan has made a promise with him in the privacy of his bed-chamber to help the poor more once he resumes his duty.
All the while, Maihua has his eyes trained on Yibo who is so deep in his thoughts he does not seem to pay attention to the growing tension between Taiyu and Luo Cheng. Yibo speaks up on time before the yelling turns into a fistfight in the small kitchen. It is midday and everyone including the prince – who is their main concern at the moment – had their meals earlier and left to do other things in the village, leaving the communal kitchen empty and perfect for their meeting.
“Quiet, you two,” the authority dripping in his deep voice resonates until the bickering stops instantly. He heaves a sigh before closing his eyes, making his mind even when it seems almost crazy. “There is no way we can get those stuff anymore now. It already begins to snow in some area. We will send the prince ourselves to the nearest city. He can meet with the officials there himself.”
It is very selfless of Yibo to come to this decision, but he knows the prince does not belong with them who are just a bunch of renegades.
They begin their journey in a small group a few days later. The city is even further than the town and in a whole other direction, so they opt to ride horses, Xiao Zhan who has a cloak covering his entire being on the same stallion as Yibo. The latter blatantly ignores the stare he feels at the back of his head from the way he wraps his arms so tightly around the prince to grab the leash.
“You must be so light that both of us can fit on this stallion.” Xiao Zhan rolls his eyes and fights back a smile from breaking on his face.
By midday, the sun is already standing higher on their heads, casting the bare minimum of warmth through the early winter season. The snow is not thick yet that their rides have a problem going through the road.
Wang E, which Yibo has left behind with Yang Cang suddenly emerges in the sky. Her signature screams gaining the attention of the small entourage waltzing through the thick forest. Even with no leaves, the trees are still standing strong, obscuring their visions.
Yibo immediately halts their movement, raising his hand to let the Aquila lands on his heavily wrapped arm. He turns to look behind him, an equally serious look exchange between him, Taiyu and Maihua. He has not been talking with the eldest of the three for some time now but at the moment, it seems like they manage to communicate telepathically.
There is a deep frown etches on his forehead when he recognises the red string on the bird’s talon. It is of the same material that their doctor usually used to pack their medicines.
With Wangqing in mind, Yibo hurriedly open the letter, revealing a quite long note with unusually messy scribbles. Wangqing is not that kind of person, so Yibo feels his heartrates pick up some more as he hurriedly tries to read the letter. But he seems to be very distracted that he hands it to the curious prince to read it for him.
Xiao Zhan warily accepts it before reading aloud the content, “We’re ambushed. By the time I woke up, half the village has been burnt down. Your house and the surrounding area were a lost cost. I managed to get some of them out. We will head your way and build a temporary camp there. Don’t turn back. We will meet when you are done with your job. I’m sorry.”
The prince feels his hands tremble as he refolds the parchment paper. He braves a look around the group. Everyone looks like they had been struck by lightning, more so the man right behind him. His embrace loosens as shock overwhelms him.
The head of the village’s house… it is where most of the elderlies and families live. Xiao Zhan chokes on his tears as he realised what had happened.
It is in that moment of weakness that none of them sees the arrow coming their way, shooting straight on Yibo and Xiao Zhan’s horse. The two of them tumble off the horse as it neighs in pain and jumps high.
Xiao Zhan hears something cracks behind him, followed by a cough and from his blurry sideway vision, he can see boots stomping their way. Those boots oddly look like they belong to the imperial guards.
“This is all your fucking fault!”
Taiyu visibly flinches when Maihua turns his bloodshot eyes toward Xiao Zhan who is standing right in front of him after kicking the lifeless stool to the wall. The tall man’s fury is obviously not directed to him but being in his line of sight kind of spooks him because he has never since the former gets this angry before. He is usually the most level-headed between the three of them, with Taiyu being the one with the shortest temper.
“How is this my fault?! Zhao Han literally saved him from getting killed,” Xiao Zhan has his fists clench so tightly by his side, the veins pop on his fair, albeit slightly tanned skin. He looks so out of place in the shabby shack uses as the temporary infirmary because his guard insisted the prince dons something that is more befitting to his title now that they know he is safe and there is no real threat to his life.
“Yeah? Are you saying having him lying here, barely alive, for three fucking days is better? Whose fault is it that we were ambushed out there in the first place? I knew it. I shouldn’t have given up on convincing Yibo to just give you up when the deal falls through,” Maihua mutters the last part, his eyes frantic as he brushes back his hair with shaking hands. He wants to destroy something but there is barely anything in there other than the bed that is occupied by the heavily injured bandit as well as a small table fully stack with herbs and other unnamed medicine prepared by Wangqing with Yang Cang’s help.
Xiao Zhan is not any better, he is literally trying to hold back the full-body shiver he is experiencing due to the anger boiling inside him. Yibo was betrayed by his own man! He had quickly jumped from where he was hiding from the commotion when he realised the man had been pushed down the hill after getting stabbed multiple times on his trunk. And- and… what?
Maihua is right. He is angry because, above all, Maihua is right. The imperial guards had launched the attack with the impression to save Xiao Zhan when Yibo’s band of bandits are totally unprepared and outnumbered as they only intended to send the prince back to the nearest town when their plan fell through. There was no use in keeping him when the war finally broke in the northern border, the nearest border to the hidden valley.
“S-stop. Stop. Please. Stop.”
They immediately turn their attentions to the bed when they hear the meek, yet rough and dry voice. Yibo still has his eyes close, but he scrunches so hard that his forehead folds into a frown as he winces and pleas for them to stop again. “You guys are making too much noise,” he rasps, trying to raise one of his heavily bandaged hands but failing and leaving him in frustration.
“Yibo!” Xiao Zhan and Maihua call simultaneously. The prince is about to get to the bandit’s side but Maihua beats him to it, leaving him swallowing and standing rooted at his place. “Yibo, how are you feeling? Does it hurt anywhere? Taiyu, get Wangqing, quick!” Maihua orders frantically, stopping only when he feels a weak tug on his sleeve. He turns to look at Yibo in confusion when the younger suddenly shakes his head.
“I’m fine. Just… can you guys leave me alone? Please,” Yibo says it while staring at the nearest man to him dead in the eyes, making it hard for any of them to argue. After a moment, Maihua rises from the bedside and hesitantly lets go of the large hand he is holding. “Oh, okay.”
Taiyu is already at the door, Xiao Zhan following close behind and Maihua right beside him. That is when they are stopped by Yibo again. This time calling for one particular person. “Can you stay? I won’t take long.” Xiao Zhan anxiously looks at the bandit’s confidants before nodding and humming in response and walking back to the bed. He can feel the dagger-sharp glare Maihua is sending to his back but decides to ignore it and pays his full attention to the injured man.
It is with a little difficulty for Xiao Zhan to help the man up into a sitting position. He has arranged the pillow so Yibo can lean his weak body comfortably without reopening any wound that Wangqing had sutured with great care and tenderness. Then he helps the man drink some boiled water from a cup that Yang Cang had the foresight to prepare earlier before he left the three men to argue in the infirmary.
“Do you want more?” Yibo does not nod nor shake his head so Xiao Zhan takes the liberty to refill the cup and putting it near the younger’s chapped, pale lips again. Xiao Zhan cannot wrap his head around the fact that those are the same lips that had mapped out his body just a few nights ago, the bruises left behind still tender and red on his skin. He unconsciously begins to blush and only pulls out of his reverie when he feels the heavy stare on his face. Yibo has stopped drinking after downing half the content, which by the prince’s judgement, is not enough.
“I’m sorry-“
“I don’t want your apology.”
They say at the same time. Xiao Zhan stares back, flustered at Yibo’s words. “But I-“ Yibo cuts him off again, “Stop. I insist.” The prince recognises the façade that Yibo has put up, the empty look slicing a piece of his heart as he gulps down the lump in his throne. He is feeling more guilty now that Yibo is awake and Maihua is once again, proven right. Why else would Yibo not want him to apologise?
“Zhan-ge… look at me,” Yibo calls, if his hand is even slightly functioning right now, he will definitely raise it so he can cup those shrinking face with protruding cheekbones. It is partially because of the food rationing that Xiao Zhan had to go through his entire stay at the hidden valley, and partially because he has losing sleep since the incident that got Yibo at the brink of death.
The prince does not have the strength left to control the blood rushing to his head, his eyes getting blurry when he hears the younger calls him so fondly, just like back then during the beginning of their friendship – or whatever-ship they had before everything went down the drain.
“Please don’t beat yourself up for this. If you insist on putting the blame on someone, we can blame that bastard Luo Cheng, okay?” Yibo is attempting to sound light-hearted about the whole ordeal and it does not go unnoticed by the prince. Yet the latter still forces a smile and nodding, “mn.”
He grows tense again when Yibo sighs again after a moment of silence. The smile drops from the younger’s face and they turn serious again.
“After all, I only talked about the plan to kidnap you to Taiyu and Maihua. It is for my lack of foresight that this all happened. Taiyu is right, all along. There is a lot of risks from getting involved with Your Highness.” This is the first time that the young bandit has ever addressed him by his official title in such a serious manner and to say he is taken aback is an understatement. He can feel his rabid heart beating so fast he can also hear it ringing in his ears. No way-
“Yibo… what are you saying? What-“ Xiao Zhan suddenly lets go of Yibo’s hands and stands up abruptly, causing the latter to flinch to raise his head. Yibo takes a deep breath before stating clearly, “Xiao Zhan. Who are you trying to fool? You do not belong here; you do not belong with us. We are even lower than servants in this kingdom. Please, go back to where you belong. I promise we will not disturb you ever again.”
All the while the prince has his eyes tightly shut, a stray tear falling down the hollow of his cheek as he prays for all these to be a nightmare. A nightmare he can run away from just by waking up. When he opens his eyes again, it is to be disappointed because he is once again facing the determined look on the bandit’s face.
He is torn. This is the man he loves, a very intelligent one just from spending a month beside him. He is very rational too. And Xiao Zhan himself is very aware of the consequences, of his own responsibility. Especially now that the war is spreading with the death of His Majesty, the prince’s father. He, as the first-born and legal heir to the crown, had been overthrown by his younger brother who gained support in the court by raising the issue of his bloodline. Xiao Zhan is the son of a concubine, while Xiao Yu is birthed by Her Majesty the Queen Consort herself.
So, after making his mind, Xiao Zhan swallows the bile rising in his tightening throat, nodding in understanding. “Mn. I understand. I will leave with my men as soon as possible. But please. I have one last favour to ask of you.”
Xiao Zhan finds his grip to be so weak that when he tries to swing the jian it almost flings out of his hand. It is partially contributed by his nerves that has kept him up all night in the past couple of days. Xiao Zhan had Yibo agreeing to let him do one last favour for the latter. After a short deliberation, Yibo had asked Xiao Zhan to do one thing that the younger knew very well the prince was not comfortable doing.
When the sun rises higher and casts more rays on the snow-covered ground, the remaining survivors of the hidden valley emerge from their tents and huts. They slowly gather around where Xiao Zhan has been standing the entire morning with Yibo’s weapon in his hand.
After the leader himself emerges from the infirmary with the help of his two closest confidants, a couple of villagers walk to the centre with a bounded man who already looks so beaten after being locked up for almost a week. Xiao Zhan is not sure whether they fed the man or not, but the prince is about to end his misery, so it does not matter anymore.
Zhao Han, his loyal guard suddenly walks up behind him. His face is as frozen as the lake but there is clear concern drawn all over his face. “Your Highness. Let me do it.”
The prince does not know how many conversations it will take for the older man to finally understand that he must do this himself. Instead of wasting any more time having empty arguing with his bodyguard and further delaying their departure from the refugee encampment. “I can do it,” he mutters, more to himself than people surrounding him this early in the cold winter morning.
The sun is warm above their heads, a good day for people to be outside. And the more Xiao Zhan spends his time sweating in his regal attire, the more he will suffer from the weight in his hand.
“We don’t have all day,” Shou Maihua’s voice suddenly cuts sharply on the silent atmosphere.
After taking a deep breath and stopping himself from glaring at the man who just spoke or just looking in the general direction where he knows Yibo will be, Xiao Zhan slowly makes his way to the centre. There, the traitor has his head locked between two planks with a woven basket right under it, a clear indication of what the execution will be and who is the executor.
Xiao Zhan is so nervous that on the first swing, he missed the target, instead, leaving Luo Cheng in an immense amount of pain as the blade sweeps the back of his neck. The man’s scream of agony is cut short when Xiao Zhan raises the sword with both hands this time and closes his eyes tightly.
There is a dull thud, and everyone slowly releases the breaths they have been holding the entire time. The prince drops the sword on his side, opening his eyes when he finally turns away from the gore image in front of him. His hands are still shaking, and he does not dare to smear the blood that has spattered on his face.
The prince leaves with his entourage without sparing turning to look back even once.
The delegation that was sent to meet with the autonomous people of the highland comes back with the first good news in a long while. The prince who has grown stubble over time finally lets a smile breaks on his face. They are still trying to find as many allies as they can while also delaying the arrival of the enemies from the border.
To say that the mountain people are totally into the whole plan is a blatant lie. Xiao Zhan knows he is pulling people who is not related to his personal turmoil into his plan to reclaim the throne from his maniacal and tyrannic half-brother. There are also the enemy kingdoms that are trying to infiltrate right after his father’s sudden death.
He just finishes discussing their new strategy in one of the bigger tents in their base when a young soldier runs in his direction. Xiao Zhan has his hand on the young man’s shoulder instantly when the latter stops right in front of him, heaving. The spear in his hand means he is currently on duty at the front gate.
Just that moment, Xiao Zhan suddenly hears a familiar scream of a bird flying right above their heads. It is a sound he has not heard for a long while, but he dares his little heart to hope a little. There is no way he can make out whether the eagle is exactly Wang E with the glare from the winter sun, but the soldier once again catches his attention when he calls for the prince.
“Pardon, Your Highness. Someone wants to meet you. They said they come with peace.”
Zhao Han is pulled along by the prince when he just finishes his round of scouting the outskirt of their base. Xiao Zhan oddly finds comfort in the stoic man’s presence.
The royalty halts his step a few feet away from the opened gate. There is slight disappointment teasing his heart, but it is stomped down by the amount of surprise that engulfs his entire being. Xiao Zhan tenses, quickly grabbing his personal guard’s muscular arm for support when the man in the very front of the group steps closer yet still not crossing the threshold. After all, the soldiers have crossed their spears in front of the gate even when the man makes no more move.
“Gao Taiyu?”
“Your Royal Highness,” the man does the fist and palm salute, followed by the men behind him. One of them is Shao Maihua himself.
“We have been dispatched here to help His Royal Highness,” Taiyu begins without even touching the tea serves in front of him. The entire time, Maihua has been staying by his side silently. His gaze is void of any familiarity with the prince. All of them, including Zhao Han himself, knows who is behind the whole surprise but decides for the better to not explicitly mention it, coming to a telepathic agreement.
“But why?” It is the first time Zhao Han has voiced his own opinion when the prince takes too long to respond. “We are much more familiar with this area.”
The prince’s side remains silent, they formed an alliance with the mountain people for the exact same reason. “After all, we have proven many times that we are much better at guerrilla than anyone else in this kingdom.”
The prince as well as his highest officials finally perk up, exchanging looks before turning to look at Taiyu who looks smug even without the smile on his handsomely rugged face.
Xiao Zhan wishes Wang E has not left so quickly. He is so desperate to hear any news from Yibo now that the younger had sent his friends to assist the Crown Prince. How is he doing? Are they still looking for refuge after the soldiers burnt down their home? He wants to apologise for destroying everything, even when Yibo does not accept it. Most important of all, he wants to thank Yibo for preparing him for all the bloodshed he has to go through during the war and rebellion.
Wang Yibo rises from his knee after dipping his fingers into the pond. The water is cold, almost the temperature he is used to back in the hidden valley. The memory of the place brings about a bittersweet smile onto his face. It has been two full moons since the whole place was burned down due to the war, leaving them stranded. Yibo has dismissed the band and let them find the new life they deserve in places scattered across the kingdom. The throne itself is still adjusting to the new ruler and the aftermath of a fate-changing war.
He stares at his own reflection on the sparkling surface of the water. There are some plum blooms floating already, the spring season going full force, blowing snow and the smell of bloodbath away.
His head wanders to the wedding he attended just a fortnight ago. Mu Wangqing looks ethereal in her humble bridal attire; it was nothing compared to the one promised if she never decided to run away from her wealthy political family. But the smile on her face as Gao Taiyu raised her veil was enough. Yibo had never seen such bright happiness on her face it was contagious. They didn’t have any relatives, but they had Yang Cang. The old man laughed whenever someone commented on how he survived for such a long time in such a bad condition. He even teased about sharing his secret to long life if he reaches a century old. Yibo is convinced that is possible with how their living conditions have improved since the end of the war and the beginning of a new united kingdom.
Wang E, the ever-loyal imperial eagle, landed on the branch of the plum tree, looking soft for her kind in between the light petals. Yibo’s gaze turns to her reflection. Just the sight of the bird of prey reminds him of one particular person. After his confession, Shou Maihua had decided to end their lifelong companionship. Before that, he had apologised multiple times for impulsively stealing Yibo’s first kiss even when he knew Yibo’s heart would not waver and never belong to him. Yibo was not happy about the older’s decision, so he made Maihua promised that they will meet again one day. The latter relented albeit hesitantly, promising that once he came back, he will tell Yibo of all the stories from his journey across the middle kingdom.
Yibo is so deep in his thought, mind flashing from one person to the other that he does not realise someone is approaching behind him. His shoulders jerk when a cough breaks through his reverie. He turns around to see the newly coronated emperor. The regally dressed man hides his laugh behind a fist. But what really catches Yibo’s attention is the position he is in.
“Your Majesty!” Yibo stammers to pull the emperor up from his kneeling position. Xiao Zhan, having cultivated enough strength throughout the climax of the war, does not budge. Instead, his gaze hardens when he hears Yibo addresses him so formally.
“Wang Yibo,” Xiao Zhan uses the authoritative tone that he just began to practice, to warn the younger. The man in question just sighs in retaliation. “Xiao Zhan.” Those two syllables come out akin to a whine that if Taiyu hears him, he would instantly baulk. “Yibo,” the emperor calls back just as sweetly, his gaze softer and glinting with deep adoration. He reaches for Yibo’s calloused big hands and stares at them for a while.
“Yibo,” he begins, “I have something to ask of you. And I will not move until you give me an answer. I know it seems like I’m threatening you, but I promise you. I just want you to be by my side.” Yibo waits, silently reciprocating the hold on his huge hands. From the corner of his eyes, he can see the silent loyal personal bodyguard of the emperor standing a safe distance away to keep an eye on the monarch while still being out of hearing. That is the same man that Yibo humiliated last fall, also the same man that saved him when he was betrayed by one of his own men. Zhao Han bows his head a little in Yibo’s direction while his face remains stoic.
“Come on, I would rather you bruise your knees some other way, Your Majesty.” This time Xiao Zhan does not scoff at being addressed by his title, but he can feel the tips of his ears slowly warming up.
“Get your head out of the gutter for a moment, Bao Da-wang.” Xiao Zhan squeezes the hands again to regain the serious atmosphere. He can see Yibo’s Adam’s apple moving as he gulps nervously, awaiting.
“Will you be my general?”
It takes a while for his question to be processed inside of Yibo’s hyperactive brain. He looks stunned, to say the least. But Xiao Zhan is totally not expecting the younger to let go of his hand. His heartbeat begins to race, pounding on his ribcage as he expects the worst possible outcome based on the younger’s initial reaction.
“W- Xiao Zhan!” This time Yibo does not hesitate to use his strength to pull the emperor up to his feet. The latter winces when blood begins to rush to his lower body. He can fill his toes tingling in his boots, feeling a lot like a thousand and one armies of ants crawling in frenzy. “What are you thinking? Have you ever been thinking? I’m—your people won’t agree with you. And- and what about Zhao Han?”
Xiao Zhan stops his stammer by cradling his face into his warm hands. “Wang Yibo, will you just please stop thinking about others for once?” Yibo scoffs but does not make any move to remove the hands squishing his face, avoiding the intense stare of the emperor. “Aren’t you a citizen of this kingdom too? You have a lot of friends and families that would be glad to know you have a place here in the palace. I’ve talked about this with Han-ge too.”
The taller man continues smoothing his thumb onto Yibo’s soft cheeks. Truth be told, he is feeling a little guilty about offering the position to the younger. He knows deep down the real reason he offers it to the young man is not because of his prowess, but more to because he cannot have a male consort publicly. This is the safest way they can resume what they have before the war blew out of proportion. Xiao Zhan even went as far as coming clean to his new queen – whom he was forced to marry as a compromise with the court – on their first night.
“Wang Yibo, please. We will – we can make this work. All of these are for nothing if I cannot have the only thing I truly love,” Xiao Zhan pleas. Yibo finally moves, taking his hands in his as he let out a sigh. He seems to be searching for answers in the emperor’s determined eyes. “You’re supposed to exile me. Your court is going to go crazy over your decision,” Yibo laughs wetly. After all, the whole kingdom now knows the look of the notorious bandit.
“I can always pardon you. No one can go against the emperor’s words,” Xiao Zhan tries again. “How about I give that a try?” Yibo retorts, face scrunches up in a gummy smile. “Yibo, I don’t care what kind of history you have, but no one can ignore the fact that you have played a huge role in letting us win the war.”
Yibo can see Xiao Zhan’s wavering determination, the glint in his eyes dimming a tiny bit. “Need I remind you; we literally began a rebellion to assassinate your brother who took the throne from you? I helped because it was all our fault that your brother took advantage of the situation.” The emperor, who looks defeated, slowly lets his hands fall back to his side, giving the former bandit a small smile. He takes his words back, there will always be one person who can go against the emperor’s words.
To his surprise, it is Yibo who takes his hands this time, affectively pulling him closer when he tries to take a step back. “I will always be with you, if not physically, I know you keep me well secure in your heart. You don’t need to jeopardise what you have shed blood and tears for someone like me. Xiao Zhan, really. I’m fine if you want to keep me hidden and away from other people. I’m totally okay if you ask me to be your secret affair. But my guilt won’t let me serve the kingdom that you have fought so hard to rebuild. It will take an entire lifetime for me to atone for my sins. So please, let Zhao Han takes the position.”
He pulls the tall emperor into his embrace, tightening his hold on his thin waists when the man slowly reciprocates by wrapping his arms around his shoulders. “Yibo… you’re not going to leave me too, aren’t you?” Xiao Zhan sniffs, burying his face in the cape draping over the man’s broad shoulders. “What makes you think that after all I just said? I was literally telling you better ways to have me by your side.”
Yibo puts a distance between them, wiping the tear-stained cheeks before placing a warm kiss on the emperor’s rosy lips. “You’re going to make a great leader. With or without me by your side.”
“Mn,” Xiao Zhan nods.
The reconciled lovers retreat early that night, diving into a much more exciting activity to rekindle the old flame in the emperor’s chamber. Xiao Zhan wakes up the next morning to send Yibo off to his new quarters, the secluded Magnolia Palace, where Yibo’s late mother and the favourite concubine of the previous king resided in her short life.