ZE ZHI WEI (萴智危)

  Day 1, 5th Month of the Lunar Calendar, 6000th Year of the Yun Dynasty, Taishan Province, Tian’an Sect

  The trap was laid for one person. And one person alone.

  It would kill them. And it would most certainly hurt, but it was nothing like the elaborate chaos of the bīnghuǒdú poisoning incident. I wasn’t trying to make a spectacle this time. Just…precision.

  Quiet and quick, if I could manage it.

  The setting worked in my favour, at least. Since its inauguration, the Imperial Autumn Hunt had always been held in the mountains owned by the Taishan Sect. The woodland stretched across the northern edge of Shuishang Province, a territory famed for its intense, fire-aligned climate. But not here. Not in these woods.

  Here, the air was cooler, slower. The terrain leaned toward yin rather than yang, making it perfect for raising immortal beasts with icy temperaments and for hunting them. Pale mist clung to the forest floor even in daylight, curling around the roots of black pine trees and trailing off the edge of jagged cliffs. Thin, winding streams cut through the rock, gleaming like spilled silver as they ran beneath wooden bridges and through open fields where medicinal herbs grew wild and unbothered.

  Birds rarely sang here. Instead, the wind made all the noise. It howled along the cliff face, tugging at robes and whistling through the tree branches with a voice that always seemed just shy of human. If I listened too long, I might start hearing things.

  That’s right. Wind.

  A real archer would never forget.

  An experienced archer would’ve measured the wind speed before choosing their angle. Or checked the terrain for cross-drafts. Or even tested a shot first. I, on the other hand, had done none of that.

  I sighed, unslung the bow from my shoulder, and gently pulled the arrow free from where I had it nocked. It was a decent arrow: one of the good ones Yu Haifei had handed me when we left camp. Broadhead, balanced weight, nothing fancy. Originally, the plan was simple: wait until they came through the mountain pass and fire the moment they turned the corner. No time to react. Clean. Efficient.

  That was the idea, anyway.

  I held the arrow up to the light, inspecting the point like it would offer advice. It didn’t. The metal just winked back at me in silence.

  Everyone who participated in the Hunt had to pass through this route on their way back to the main trail. At least, that’s what Yu Haifei had said. He seemed confident about it. I’d taken his word for it. Not because I was certain, but because there wasn’t much else to go on. All I needed to do was be in position, out of sight, and release the arrow he specifically prepared.

  Still, my hands were steady. That had to count for something.

  Cautiously, I peeked over the edge of the ridge, glancing back down at the bend in the path below. The moment was coming. I could feel it. Slowly and measured, like the curl of wind threading through pine branches overhead.

  I just had to be ready. Or at least, pretend I was.

  I traced the edge of the arrowhead with a finger, careful not to touch the actual tip. Everyone always said you could tell how deadly a weapon was by its shine. But this one didn’t gleam. It was dark, almost dull, like burnt coal under moonlight. It didn’t need to glint.

  I shuddered.

  I remembered the way Yu Haifei had described it to me—how the poison would seep through bone the instant it pierced skin. Once inside, it wouldn’t just kill. It would scream. That was the word he used. It would scream through the bones of the victim, hollowing them out with pain until even breathing became unbearable.

  It had a name. gǔtou.

  The poison was rumoured to have first been brewed by the former Blossom Deity of Huadu Sect. When her disciples later fractured, some stayed true to her teachings, others twisted them for personal gain. Now, all of her alchemical texts were banned now and most of them were formally destroyed.

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  But I suppose Yu Haifei found a way.

  bīnghuǒdú promised death.

  gǔtou (骨頭) promised suffering.

  I sniffed and rubbed at my face. The tree bark was doing wonders for my sensitive nose. All my orifices were dripping mucous with more excitement than I was comfortable with. Meanwhile, a horrible itch crawled up the back of my neck again, like ants building a palace under my skin. I reached up to scratch, trying to be gentle, but it felt like something was writhing beneath my scalp.

  If I wasn’t going to die from screwing up the assassination of the Crown Prince, I might just die from the itchy humiliation of an allergic reaction.

  Oh. There he is.

  From my perch, I could make him out at last, just barely. A shimmer of white among the green, but unmistakable. His robes looked like they’d been woven from starlight itself, flowing as if water followed his every step. The rest of us blended into the woodland. He didn’t.

  He never did.

  Perfect.

  Untouchable.

  Immaculate.

  Behind him, Jiang Feng walked like a ghost, bow on his back, eyes moving sharp and steady. A hunter in every sense. Even the arrow beneath my fingers seemed to twitch in anticipation. Or maybe that was just me sweating all over it.

  Who was I kidding?

  I was a chicken trying to peck a phoenix.

  I tightened my grip. No. I made a promise. To my mother. To Yu Haifei. To myself.

  I raised the bow, nocked the arrow, and aimed. I didn’t breathe.

  Then—release.

  The arrow flew straight, driven with a purpose that I didn’t even know I had imbued into it.

  But I didn’t look to see if it hit.

  My feet moved before my thoughts did, carrying me down from the treetop like a falling leaf, fast and quiet. I had to be back before someone noticed I was gone.

  Too late, they know you’re missing.

  Did the arrow make its target?

  Of course, you missed because you suck at aiming. You suck at everything.

  I probably hit. I had to have hit.

  Gosh, I should’ve checked.

  Did I see Yijun earlier this morning or was that my mind’s trick?

  It’s going to work out.

  It’s absolutely not going to work out.

  Stupid brain, think! Focus!

  I froze in place. My hands were still gripping the tools of my crime.

  Why?

  Why was I still holding them?

  Idiot.

  I brought the bow down across my knee. It splintered in two, too loud for comfort. Frantically, I scanned the forest floor for the least suspicious place to dump it. The glint of water caught my eye: a stream cutting through the brush. Perfect.

  I tossed the fragments in, watching them drift away like tiny boats carrying secrets downstream.

  If only guilt could float away that easily.

  I tore through the woodland for what felt like an eternity.

  I need to get back. I need to get back. I need to get back.

  The thought looped over and over, louder than my heartbeat, louder than the rustling leaves and snapping twigs beneath my feet. The woods blurred around me—dark greens, bark browns, patches of sun-scorched gold that flickered like ghosts between branches. My breath rasped in my throat, sharp and dry like I’d been swallowing smoke. Every step jarred my knees, scraped my palms, tore at the fabric of my sleeves.

  It felt like the forest was deliberately stretching itself longer, wrapping me in paths I didn’t remember taking. I’d run this way before. Or had I? I couldn't tell anymore. Everything looked the same now. The same gnarled tree roots, the same hanging moss, the same half-rotted log I could’ve sworn I passed an hour ago.

  Time was slipping. My sense of direction was slipping. I kept going anyway. I had to.

  Sweat clung to my back like a second skin. My boots squelched in soft mud and caught in hidden roots, threatening to send me face-first into the undergrowth with every stride. I stumbled—once, twice, then too many to count—and caught myself on a tree trunk, only to keep moving before the bark even stopped shaking.

  The forest was quiet. Too quiet. Not a bird call. Not a squirrel. Only the sound of me crashing, gasping, panicking.

  My body ached. My legs burned. My stomach churned with nerves and the sharp memory of what I’d done. I could still feel the bow in my hands, though I’d broken it. I could still feel the cold shape of the arrow before I loosed it.

  Could still hear the snap of the string.

  Did anyone see me?

  They’re going to find out. They already know. You took too long.

  Bramble thorns raked across my shins. I didn’t stop. My lungs were on fire. My breath came in short, wheezing sobs I tried to muffle with the back of my hand. The air smelled too green, too alive. I could feel it clawing at my skin.

  A branch caught my hair and yanked me back mid-stride. I snarled, more in fear than anger, and tore it free with trembling fingers. My vision swam. Dappled light blinked like false stars above me, and for a second, I thought I might faint. Just drop here. Let the moss eat me. Let the birds carry me back to camp in pieces.

  But my legs kept going.

  I’d made a promise.

  To my mother. To Yu Haifei. To myself.

  And if I was caught now—if they found me with blood in my eyes and no alibi on my tongue—it would all be for nothing.

  Then, at last, I saw it.

  The brush thinned. I caught a glimmer of the stream I’d used earlier, its current slower now, as if tired too. Beyond it, the faint sounds of people. Voices, the clink of armour, the low rumble of animals and orders. It was the camp.

  I was almost there.

  I wiped my mouth with my sleeve and forced my spine straight. I didn’t know how long I’d been gone. I didn’t know what I looked like. But I had to look normal. Just another servant returning from some menial tasks. Not someone who’d just attempted to assassinate the Crown Prince.

  Just breathe.

  I pushed through the last curtain of branches, stumbled from the tree line, and into the Royal Hunting Entourage.

  I made it. Now all I have to do was pretend I’d never left.