It took a few weeks for Shi Xiu to heal well enough that would’ve allowed him to fight free-form. Every movement he made had to be careful, controlled, his recovery an agonizing dance. Despite the pain that lingered, the grinding ache of his muscles and the tightness of his injuries forced him to push forward.
As he continually practiced, the pain was fleeting, but not too cumbersome that wouldn’t allow him to survive. Prince Tian Jin tending to his wounds, adding to his skill set.
“This isn’t princely duties,” Shi Xiu told him.
“I’m not a prince right now,” He told Shi Xiu, “I’m your nephew,”
As much as Shi Xiu appreciated the prince, he knew he wasn’t worthy of such treatment, he was a dingshe, a man secretly protected the imperial family, as all dingshes were meant to do as part of the Black Cauldron.
After Shi Xiu was ready for travel, they made their way to the gates of Faizou. The weight of their journey seemed momentarily lifted. The weeks they spent traveling from Longyan to Yangzhou, then from Yangzhou to Faizou was at end, now they just needed to meet with Prince Liang, Prince Jin’s cousin.
As the city loomed before them, a bustling metropolis that pulsed with life, was it any different from Longyan? No. It was all the same, just more merchants selling their wares every corner. Strangely enough, Faizou was cleaner than Longyan which left an impression on Shi Xiu and Prince Jin.
As citizens made through narrow streets, their eyes fixed on their tasks. However, Shi Xiu noticed the heavier presence of soldiers here, compared to the rest of Huaxia. He understood though, the barbarians always trenched upon the walls of Huaxia and there was no better to handle it than Faizouans.
The air was thick with the smell of incense, roasted meat, and the unmistakable scent of adventure. “Faizou,” Shi Xiu muttered under his breath, as his eyes scanned the city before him.
“Stay here, Ren,” Shi Xiu instructed, “I will find us shelter and assess our next steps. Keep your head down, and do not draw attention to yourself.”
The prince nodded, “Do what must be done.”
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Three days passed and Shi Xiu moved through the city like a shadow, observing, listening, and gathering information. Faizou was labyrinth-like. The alleys and side streets were like veins running through the flesh of an ancient beast. He took note of every soldier, every guard, and every route that led to the most important place in the city—the Bone Palace, Prince Liang’s residence.
The name had a bone chilling aesthetic to it. Shi Xiu sat on one of the rooftops, sitting down smoking as if he were a mater of Jianghu.
In the short distance, the Bone Palace was made of iron and stone, but it was one rich with luxury. It had many palm trees spread across the grounds, with matching courtyards.
The Bone Palace, perched on the edge of the city, but covered a portion of the wall, ensuring the guards towards can see when people could attack from all directions, whilst guards were posted at every corner.
But Shi Xiu had come up with a plan.
He made his way into the Bone Palace and surveyed it for three days. Once he’d memorised the habits of the guards, he moved on the maids, gardeners then its officials. Once he was satisfied, he informed the prince of his findings.
Shi Xiu had spent the next two days familiarizing himself with the inner workings of the palace. His goal was simple: find a way to get close to Prince Liang. And he had found his opportunity—a daily tea ritual that Prince Liang performed at precisely the same time every day. The ritual was a moment of vulnerability, and Shi Xiu had arranged for Prince Tian Jin to become the tea pourer.
Once he was satisfied, he brought the prince along with him, but left him within close vicinity.
He infiltrated the Bone Palace through one of the smaller walls and landed perfectly, he made his way to his ambush spot and waited for the shift to change.
A group of soldiers gathered as they changed shifts. He hid himself in the shadows and waited.
A guard passed him and he grabbed the man by the collar, pulling him into the shadows with him. He knocked the guard out without hesitation. Shi Xiu stripped the soldier of his uniform, donning it. It fit him perfectly, broad-shouldered. He hid the guard in the corner of old shed he found and prayed no one found him.
The guards on duty wouldn’t question him. He was one of them now. As he moved deeper into the palace, Shi Xiu's mind raced. He had also noticed a young attendant, a boy who worked in the palace, delivering messages and serving the prince.
Shi Xiu made note of his existence, and now he just needed his robes. He slipped through a side door silently and found the boy in the hallway, collecting discarded plates.
He grabbed the by arm and pulled him into a secluded corner. The boy yelped in surprise, but Shi Xiu quickly covered his mouth, his grip unyielding. “I mean you no harm,” Shi Xiu whispered. “But this will hurt.”
The boy’s eyes widened with fear, and Shi Xiu knocked him out before he could even acknowledge. Shi Xiu hid the and stripped of his clothes and returned to the prince.
The prince dressed himself in the boy’s robes and made his way into the Bone Palace, showing them his plaque, Shi Xiu not too far behind.
Shi Xiu watched as the prince gave his best impersonation of a boy-attendant. Even after all these months, seeing someone born of luxury try their best was always intriguing to him, especially in the Bone Palace.
They descended the staircase; he polished banister felt smooth as oak. As Shi Xiu caressed his hands across the oaken, it shaped into carved intertwining dragons.
The steps led them deeper into the heart of the palace. With each level, the air grew cooler, the silence heavier. “Do you think he’ll recognize you?” Shi Xiu asked softly as they approached the lower halls.
“I’ve never met him and they say I look like my mother, so I highly doubt he’ll recognise me.”
Shi Xiu’s lips twitched, but he didn’t respond. He motioned for the prince to keep his head down as they entered the servants’ corridor. The atmosphere shifted here—no chandeliers, no intricate tapestries. The stone walls were bare and practical, the floor a plain slate. The sound of distant activity grew louder as they neared the kitchens.
The kitchen itself was a hive of movement. Cooks barked orders as steam billowed from massive pots. The scent of roasted duck, spiced lamb, and freshly brewed tea mingled in the air, creating a heady aroma. Servants rushed in and out, balancing trays laden with delicacies or carrying pots of steaming broth.
“The tea is prepared near the centre,” Shi Xiu told Prince Jin, “gold tray,”
Jin nodded, adjusted his posture his posture and folded his hands neatly in front of himself and approached the tea station. A polished gold tray stood out with its reflective shine. An attendant placed the teapot on the tray, then turned to Prince Jin.
“Your timing is impeccable,” the attendant remarked, not looking up. “This is for His Highness. You know the drill—“
Prince Jin watched as confusion painted itself across the attendant. “Who are you?” He asked confused, looking around. “Where’s Lei—“
“Ill” Shi Xiu cut in, “ Shou Long will provide his eminence with his tea.”
The attendant looked at Shi Xiu and confusion was still painted across his face. Shi Xiu looked the attendant in his eyes, to see what type of person he was. The attendant shied away after two seconds, letting him know all he needed to know. ”If a single drop is spilled, it’ll be on your head.”
Prince Jin bowed his head slightly, masking his disdain. “Yes Sir,”
Shi Xiu stood a step behind, his hand resting casually on the sash of his stolen uniform. Jin balanced the golden tray and adjusted his grip for grip. Shi Xiu placed a steadying hand on his shoulder. “Don’t overthink it,” he muttered.
“I won’t,” Jin replied through clenched teeth.
The two left the kitchen and navigating the winding halls toward one of courtyards for the Bone Palace. The corridor grew quieter the closer they got, the air heavier with the weight of anticipation. Shi Xiu felt the change in the atmosphere. This was no longer the bustling hub of the palace—this was the domain of the elite.
The courtyard where Prince Liang drank his tea was serene elegance, framed by towering bamboo groves that swayed gently in the breeze. The stone floor was meticulously laid, each tile a perfect square polished to a mirror finish. At the centre stood a koi pond, its waters crystal clear and teeming with vibrant fish whose scales shimmered in the dappled sunlight filtering through the canopy of leaves above. Stone lanterns surrounded the pond, their intricate carvings telling stories of ancient Huaxian myths. The faint sound of flowing water from a small fountain added a calming melody to the atmosphere.
Scattered across the courtyard were intricately carved wooden screens, painted with scenes of dragons dancing among clouds and cranes flying above misty mountains. They were placed strategically, both for decoration and privacy, casting soft shadows that seemed to shift as the sun moved. Potted plum trees lined the edges of the space, their blossoms adding splashes of pink and white against the muted tones of the stone and wood. The faint, sweet scent of the blossoms mingled with the earthy aroma of the tea being brewed nearby, creating a sensory harmony that seemed to lull time itself.
The tea table was placed beneath a sprawling wisteria tree, its cascading purple flowers creating a natural canopy. The table was low, crafted from dark mahogany, and bore a rich sheen that reflected the care it received. Cushions embroidered with golden threads were arranged around it, their designs echoing the themes of the palace’s tapestries. Beside the table stood a small brazier, its delicate smoke curling upward, carrying the faint fragrance of sandalwood. Everything about the courtyard spoke of Prince Liang’s cultivated tastes—an oasis of peace and beauty within the fortress-like Bone Palace.
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Prince Liang sat at the head of the table, his posture regal yet relaxed. He was a man of refined features, his sharp eyes betraying a mind that missed little. He wore robes of deep crimson and gold, the fabric shimmering as he moved. In his hand, he held a thin brush, its tip resting against the parchment in front of him. A half-finished poem lay there, the characters bold yet elegant.
As Jin and Shi Xiu entered, Liang’s gaze lifted, his brush pausing mid-stroke. He studied them with a quiet intensity, his expression unreadable.
“Tea,” he said simply, his voice smooth but commanding.
Jin stepped forward, his movements precise as he knelt and began pouring the tea. The liquid flowed smoothly, filling the delicate cups with practiced ease. Shi Xiu stood nearby, his stance casual but ready, his eyes never leaving the prince.
Liang picked up the cup, his fingers lingering on the porcelain’s intricate design. He took a sip, his gaze never leaving Jin. “What is your name?” he asked, calmly.
Jin’s heart skipped a beat, but he answered in a steady voice. “Lin Wei, Your Highness.” He finished with a bow.
Liang raised an eyebrow, setting the cup down. “Lin Wei,” he repeated, as if tasting the name. His gaze shifted to Shi Xiu. “And you? What’s your name?”
“Han Sheng, Your Highness.”
Liang leaned back, his sharp eyes narrowing slightly. “Interesting,” he murmured. “You see, I know everyone who serves in this palace. Every name, every face. And yet, yours are unfamiliar to me.”
The room grew colder and Shi Xiu’s muscles tensed instantly. He brushed his hand against the edge of his sash where his sword lay.
Jin kept his expression calm, but a bead of sweat trickled down his temple. Liang’s lips curved into a faint smile, though his eyes remained hard. “Tell me, Lin Wei and Han Sheng…are you just another set of assassins, sent to kill me?”
“Ass—“
“Kill them,” Prince Liang said coldly.
Ten foreign Qi’s exploded around them, forcing Shi Xiu to ignite his Soul, Core and Mind Dantians. Three guards appeared in front of Prince Liang, whilst the remaining seven advanced towards Shi Xiu and Prince Jin.
He performed an instantaneous step, appearing to Prince Jin’s defence in an instant. He parried and deflected the blades that burrowing toward the prince and pushed him into air. “Close your eyes” He barked.
A guard lunged his spear at Shi Xiu’s chest. He sidestepped, then twisted his body fluidly. The spear glanced off his sword with a metallic screech of metal, forcing Shi Xiu to pivot into a downward slash, severing the shaft in half. He slid to the spearman’s left, bringing his elbow into the guard’s jaw. A a sickening crack echoed through the courtyard and the man crumpled, unconscious before he hit the ground.
Three guards thrusted their spears and swords, noticing that Shi Xiu had left himself exposed. He inhaled deeply performed another instantaneous step, appearing below Prince Jin. He caught the prince and half-turned to him “You remember where the imperial seal is?” He whispered.
Prince Jin nodded in response, “Get up, I’ll handle these men.”
A guard broke off from his other men, clearly trying to impress Prince Liang. He appeared to Shi Xiu’s left, bringing his sword down to Shi Xiu’s exposed side. Shi Xiu shifted his stance, letting the attack glide past him as his sword traced an arc of silver. The flat of the blade smashed into the guard’s temple, sending him sprawling onto the stone tiles.
Two down, Shi Xiu muttered under his breath as his eyes flicking toward the others as they tightened their formation.
One of the guards aiming for Jin thrust forward with a short sword. Shi Xiu intercepted, his sword gleaming in the sunlight. Jin scampered across forcing Shi Xiu to cover him. He intercepted the second attacker’s slash and sparks flew as the blades collided.
Shi Xiu stepped into the attacking, dodging varied thrusts, he slapped the spearman’s spear up, then tapped the acupoint on his chest and thigh, immobilising him. “Get Behind the tree, now!” Shi Xiu barked at Jin.
Jin obeyed, retreating behind the wisteria tree as Shi Xiu turned his attention to the seven guards circling him. They moved as a unit, their steps measured, their weapons glinting ominously.
Shi Xiu forced the man’s weapon upward, using the momentum to spin and deliver a punishing kick to the first guard’s stomach. The man staggered; the tray Jin carried clattering to the ground as the prince stepped away from the melee.
Another guard appeared from nowhere, bringing his halberd down at a chaotic angle, forcing Shi Xiu to duck. Another guard lunged low with a spear, the point streaking toward Shi Xiu’s legs. Shi Xiu leaped, twisting midair to avoid the blade, and landed in a crouch. His sword lashed out like a striking viper, its flat edge smashing against the spear’s shaft and shattering it.
The halberd-wielding guard pressed forward, swinging his weapon in a powerful arc. Shi Xiu deflected the attack, his muscles straining against the force of the blow. He slid forward into the man’s guard, slamming his hilt into the man’s ribs. A pained grunt escaped the guard as he staggered back.
Shi Xiu turned, his blade meeting the edge of a third guard’s sword. They locked eyes, the intensity of the moment palpable. Shi Xiu broke the deadlock with a sharp twist, his blade catching the guard’s hand and forcing him to drop his weapon.
But the remaining guards weren’t idle. They converged on him with ruthless precision, attacking from multiple angles. A sword arced toward his shoulder, while another blade aimed for his exposed flank. Shi Xiu blocked one attack, his arms vibrating from the impact, and twisted his body to avoid the second.
Despite his skill, the numbers began to weigh against him. His muscles screamed in protest, as his Qi drained intensely at the wound in his side. He still wasn’t one hundred percent, but he expected this much. Another blade slashed toward his thigh, and though Shi Xiu deflected it, the attack left him off-balance.
The guard nearest to him seized the opportunity, delivering a punishing hit with the hilt of his sword against Shi Xiu’s ribs. Pain exploded through his side, and he stumbled, coughing up mouthful of blood.
As he gritted his bloodied teeth, he defiantly stood up, not letting his body falter by parrying another sword slash aimed at his head. He countered with a counter-slash, knocking the guard’s spear from his hands.
Shi Xiu charged in, but another guard tackled him from behind, forcing him to the ground. “Damn you!” Shi Xiu hissed, struggling against the weight pinning him down.
They guards swarmed him, kicking his sword from out of his hands and began pinning him down with spear, swords, knees anything that forced him to stop moving. He tried thrashing his strength, but as his wounds were seeping his Qi, he couldn’t surmount enough strength to push them off.
“Enough Alright,” Prince Liang said sharply, voice cutting through the chaos.
The guards froze in place, as Shi Xiu’s chest heaved back and forth. Liang rose from his seat, his gaze sweeping over the scene with icy detachment. His eyes met Jin’s own and a devilish smirk appeared on his face.
“You’ve caused quite the commotion. Now, tell me, Lin Wei and Han Sheng…or whatever your true names are. What’s your purpose? You could’ve killed to of my guards but didn’t.”
Silence fell on the courtyard like a thunderstorm. The cold calculated eyes of Prince Liang gave nothing away. Shi Xiu had heard of perceptive he was, but to see it in the flesh, was something else entirely. How do we get out of this…the prince didn’t reach the seal.
“We come seeking asylum.” Prince Jin said softly.
Prince Liang’s narrowed his narrowed, scepticism clouding his expression as he walked toward Shi Xiu. The guards pressed their weapons harder against Shi Xiu, ensuring he stayed pinned to the ground. However, Liang’s gaze switched between the Jin and Shi Xiu.
“Asylum,” Liang repeated, his voice laced with disdain. “Do you realize what you’ve done to earn this audience? Guards injured; weapons drawn in my courtyard. And now you expect me to believe the ramblings of two would-be assassins?”
“I am not here to take your life, cousin,” Prince Jin snapped. His voice carried an air of authority, despite his young age. It startled not just Prince Liang, his guards, but also Shi Xiu. It’s been a while since he spoke with such authority in confidence.
“Cousin?” Prince Liang scoffed,
“Yes…” Prince Jin said coldly, “But I do not expect you to believe me without proof.”
“Proof?” Prince Liang echoed. “And what proof could you possibly have to justify this intrusion?”
Liang’s kept an impassive, though the faintest flicker of curiosity sparked within his eyes.
Prince Tian Jin reached for the hem of his robes. The guards tensed, their weapons rising in anticipation of treachery. Shi Xiu grunted from his position on the ground, his teeth gritted against the weight of the men holding him down. “Wait,” Jin said calmly, looking to Liang with unnerved confidence. “If you know the truth of your bloodline, you will recognize what I am about to show you.”
Liang raised a hand, halting his guards. “Very well,” he said, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. “Let’s see what story your ‘proof’ tells.”
Jin Tian loosened the upper part of his attendant’s robe; he turned around exposing his back. An intricately designed dragon tattoo appeared on the prince’s back, its scales inked in rich crimson and gold hues that seemed to shimmer in the light. The dragon’s coiled body wrapped around his shoulders, its fierce eyes staring forward as if challenging all who dared approach. The design was unmistakable—a mark reserved only for the direct bloodline of the Imperial Family of Tian.
A murmur rippled through the guards. Even Liang’s composed mask cracked, his eyes widening in recognition. “The Imperial Dragon…” he whispered, his voice barely audible. For a moment, it seemed as if the weight of centuries pressed down upon him, the significance of what he was seeing rooting him in place.
Jin turned slowly, ensuring everyone could see the tattoo clearly. “This is not a forgery,” he said quietly. “You know the meaning of this mark, Liang. It is the symbol of the descendants of the Imperial family, passed down through generations. It is proof of who I am—Prince Jin Tian, the last living son of the emperor.”
“The dragon tattoo is impressive, but not irrefutable. Many would die for the chance to claim such a legacy falsely.” Liang’s said coldly.
A knowing smile flashed across Prince Jin’s face. Then, He bent down, picking up a small intricately carved wooden box from the garden. The box’s surface bore the Imperial Crest of Huaxia, its gold inlay glinting in the sunlight. “Would this suffice, cousin?”
Liang narrowed his eyes as Jin opened the box. He picked up the Imperial Seal of the Jin Dynasty. The jade seal, carved with meticulous precision, bore the unmistakable marks of the Imperial Family. Its base was etched with the dragon motif, identical to Jin’s tattoo, and the grooves of its carvings were filled with a rare black ink that never faded—a technique known only to the imperial artisans.
The guards closest to Liang inhaled sharply, their grips on their weapons faltering. Liang himself took a step forward, his hand hovering over the seal as if drawn to it by an unseen force. He hesitated, then reached out and traced the grooves of the carving with his fingertips. His expression shifted from doubt to something far more complex—a mixture of awe, recognition, and the faintest trace of fear.
“It is real,” Liang murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. He looked up, meeting Jin’s gaze with an intensity that could have cleaved stone. “You… are who you say you are.”
“We aren’t assassins Prince Liang, we come seeking refuge for the prince.”
Liang’s sharp gesture signalled his guards to release Shi Xiu. The men hesitated, reluctant to let go of their captive, but obeyed. Shi Xiu rolled to his knees, coughing as he pushed himself upright. His eyes locked onto Liang’s, filled with restrained fury.
Jin Tian stepped forward, reclaiming the box that held the Imperial Seal and tucking it safely into his sash. “I came to Faizou because I had no choice,” he said, his voice firm but tinged with weariness. “My father is dead. My brothers are dead. The throne of Huaxia is empty, and the empire teeters on the brink of chaos. I have no army, no resources, and no allies. But I am still a prince, and I will not abandon my duty.”
Liang studied Tian Jin, his expression inscrutable. “And you expect me to offer you sanctuary? To pledge my resources to your cause, knowing the risks involved?”
“I expect nothing from you but a chance to prove myself,” Jin replied. “What I ask for is not charity, but a partnership. Huaxia’s survival depends on unity, and I will do whatever it takes to restore order—whether with your help or without it.”
The silence that followed was heavy, each word lingering in the air like a blade poised to strike. Liang turned away, his gaze sweeping over the courtyard. His lips pressed into a thin line, and for a moment, it seemed as if he would dismiss them outright.
“You have courage, cousin. And you have proof of your bloodline. That earns you the chance to speak further. But understand this—if you fail to convince me of your worth, I will not hesitate to cast you out. Faizou does not take sides lightly.”
Jin Tian inclined his head, his posture composed despite the tension in his shoulders. “That is all I ask.”
Liang waved a hand, signalling his guards to stand down completely. “Take them to the guest quarters,” he instructed. “Ensure they are treated with respect. We will speak again tomorrow.”
“Thank you, your Eminence,” Prince Jin said with a bow. “With your care, we can live to see tomorrow…”