As the sky darkened, it transformed into a dazzling display of sparkling lights and rich, dark colours of purple and charcoal. The bustling noises of the palace quietened and Disung relished the peace. Since his father’s return, he remained in a state of bewilderment. He couldn’t pull himself out of the depths of amazement. My father lived! My father lived! My father is alive and is the Fox you fear! He wanted to scream it at the top of the mountains. Yet, he had to kill this excitement otherwise, risk making a mistake in the palace. With the end near, he wouldn't be the one to ruin everything. Therefore, he decided to take time to evaluate and celebrate everything with a pot of wine and Joaolong.

He looked down at his friend, whose eyes glared at the perplexing path onto the roof. To reach the spot, he had to use a low, protruding branch on a tree to lift himself up, then climb higher until he could jump onto the roof. Apparently it was a difficult task. Disung laughed hysterically as he watched the attempts from his friend. When Joaolong finally joined him, his stomach had cramps.

“Fancy peach wine?” Disung asked, passing over the pot and catching his breath.

Joaolong half-smiled and drank mouthfuls of the liquid without a break. This led him to violently cough as it burned his throat.

“Rough day?”

“Rough days,” Joaolong corrected. “I feel like we haven’t spoken in weeks.”

“The baby is demanding," Disung replied, referring to Huli. "I am always at his beck and call.”

“Does he still want my head on a platter?”

“He wants everyones head on a platter. I only see or hear what he wants but occasionally, I wander on some serious discussions. His plans are ridiculous. The kingdom is doomed if we don’t throne the Lost Prince.”

“Be careful where you speak such words.”

Disung rolled his eyes and muttered a curse under his breath. He hated keeping tight-lipped and restricted. It felt like he couldn’t take a dump without the emperor breathing down his back or an informant watching him. They were so close to freedom yet, it seemed like the palace restraints tightend around him.

“So, why is the usually sober Joaolong drinking tonight?”

“My first friend in the Lotus Palace killed the person I loved most.”

He finally is accepting the truth. Disung had been waiting for Joaolong to crack his tough armour. As the weeks passed since he discovered who killed Yenay, Disung worried more about Joaolong's indifferent appearance. “Well I can beat you. My betrothed never told me my father was alive.”

Joaolong nodded, processing the confession, and handed the pot back. “My parents were killed by a plague and fires.”

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The wine passed between them again. “My village was destroyed by a mad man.”

“I studied poisons because I got poisoned so much.”

“I joined the army because I was poor, not because I supported it."

“There hasn’t been a year where I’m not assassinated over my status or mind.”

“The Fox didn’t kill my father.”

"Oh"

"Who wins?"

Joaolong took the wine back. “No one. Only the gods win in this twisted game of life.”

“Bastards!” Disung replied. “Should we play our own twisted game then?”

“What do you suggest?”

***

Just as anticipated, Tai laid on the mat in his chamber, fast asleep. Disung and Joaolong giggled like young girls while they threw pebbles at him, trying to wake him, and not the other servants, up. Sluggishly, he stirred and sighed when he saw the drunk masters. However, he followed them without complaint.

Back in Joaolong’s chambers, the men drank wine together; they cheered as their vision blurred, laughed at their failing movements and groaned at their slurred speech. The drinking games blended together, somehow changing without the men realising when this occurred. First they praticed their memory, secondy made up poetic songs, challenged their counting and then, played truth games.

“First: I beat up a soldier because he touched my sister. Second: I ate five bowls of rice in one sitting. Which rings true?" Tai asked, swaying in his spot with unfocused eyes.

“First rings true,” Disung deduced, grinning at Tai’s terrible poker face.

“Agreed. First is true,” Joaolong said. “Because you only ate four bowls of rice in one sitting with me! Drink!”

Tai laughed merrily and finished the remainder of the pot in front of him. By the time he put it back down, he fell onto the floor. The suddness of the action made it look like a performance rather than reality.

“Is he dead?” Joaolong asked.

Disung poked him, provoking a snore from Tai. “No. Little Wu just can’t hold his liquor. I can’t believe he can sleep with that pot resting on most of his tiny body!”

“He can handle anything. Tai will always amaze… He does not deserve a life like this.”

“I know. Drinking with you is no different from being haunted by a demon,” Disung joked, twisting Joaolong's meaning. As he spoke, he stared at the fallen pot and comrade. Slowly, a foolish idea sprouted in his head. “Joaolong, how about another game? Whoever puts more on Little Wu, before he stirs, wins.”

“I'm intrigued. What will the prize be?”

“Winner pays for drinks and dances at a tavern?"

“No. It isn’t worthy enough. How about…”

Joaolong crawled over to his bed. In the wooden frame, he reached up, moved his hand around as if sliding a loose plank, then revealed his treasure. In the candlelight, Disung saw the long jade pendant, adorned with a lotus flower carving, along with the words ‘True Prince’. He hadn’t seen it since the hunt. When did Mingzhu give back? Should I even be surprised? he thought. She hides everything from me.

“Joaolong, that is a risky prize.”

“Then it is worthy!”

Disung grinned and crept closer to Tai. First, he placed cushion on the eunuch. Joaolong raised an eyebrow and added an ugly wooden Fox, to which Disung responded with two scrolls. They continued to add objects on Tai, becoming more daring when he remained still. At one point, Tai’s loud snores ceased and they both bit their laughter, begging him not to move. They heard their beating hearts. Tai made a choked noise. Seconds ticked by. Then, the snores continued and signalled their game to commence once more. By ten minutes, the last objects in the room were a half-empty pot of wine and the table they drank at.

Joaolong held the table in a tight grasp and wobbled closer. A droplet of sweat trickled down his face as he attempted to delicately place the furniture on the pile of loose items. As soon as the weight pressed down and Joaolong let go, Tai rolled over and crashed the tower. The objects stretched across the floor, creating a huge mess for the morning servants. Disung and Joaolong fell on their backs and lost themselves in laughter. Meanwhile, Tai continued to sleep without complaint.