There are many forbidden places deep within the palace, corners where even the midday sun could not penetrate.
Han Zhen pushed open the heavy palace doors, but all he brought into the long-abandoned hall was a faint trace of light.
His footsteps echoed through the silence. At last, he stopped a few feet away from the couch. After an almost inaudible sigh, he called softly,
“Ming Zhang.”
A faint clinking of chains broke the silence. The person behind the curtains trembled at the sound of his voice, then fell quiet again, seemingly unwilling to meet him.
“Ming Zhang.” Receiving no reply, Han Zhen knew he was listening. “Just tell me. Where is Third Young Master? His Majesty will remember the bond you shared since childhood…”
“I’ve already said I don’t know.” The voice was remarkably calm. “Did you come here just for this?”
“Why?” Han Zhen wanted an answer. “Why would you do this when you knew it would expose you?”
“I did it for the realm and its people. Other than that…” Ming Zhang trailed off, pausing for a moment.
“King Yan is among the rebels anyway, and I was completely certain that even if I were exposed, Li Xuanjing would never kill Yan Yihuan. Besides, do you really think he would believe the map I sent? I…”
I was almost killed by him.
“Ming Zhang, don’t bother giving me these lofty excuses.” Han Zhen cut him off, his voice carrying a chill Ming Zhang had never heard before. “How about I tell you what you were really thinking?”
The silence did not last long. The chains rattled once more, and a flat, emotionless voice came from the couch.
“Go on.”
“You chose your timing well. His Majesty is currently feigning illness and remains out of sight, his movements restricted, unable to appear before the public.” Han Zhen drew a deep breath. “Now that King Qin is about to reach the city, His Majesty cannot expose this for the sake of the nation. And more importantly…”
Han Zhen paused, “You didn’t send Third Young Master Yan just because he was the best choice; instead, you wanted to use this opportunity to send him to the crown prince of Qin. If he truly followed them, he would have betrayed His Majesty. But given Third Young Master’s temperament, there is a really high chance that he would be exposed. Perhaps, as you said, Li Xuanjing would not kill him, but he certainly would not spare him either.”
A faint scoff came from within the curtains.
“So that’s what His Majesty thinks as well?”
“Ming Zhang, His Majesty has already grown suspicious. I begged him to give you one more chance, and he agreed. But do you think it was my plea that changed his mind? The truth is, His Majesty wanted to give you another chance as well.”
“So the two of you deceived me. You said you had gone south, but you were actually watching me all along?”
“Yes. But your scheme truly caught everyone by surprise.”
They had considered every possibility but never imagined that Ming Zhang would arrange for Yan Yihuan to deliver the map. Even less had they imagined that he could send him away from the depths of the imperial palace in broad daylight.
“His Majesty has disbanded the Youluo Jian and dealt with nearly half of its members,” Han Zhen said coldly. “After such a long time, I’m afraid they’ve already forgotten who they truly serve.”
“Then let it be disbanded. His Majesty probably won’t have any use for my service anymore.”
The calmness in his voice finally shattered the anger Han Zhen had been suppressing. He strode to the couch in a few quick steps. The moment his hand seized the curtain, the person inside finally reacted. Chains clattered in panic as Ming Zhang shouted sharply,
“Don’t open it!”
Han Zhen’s hand froze.
The shout sounded stern enough, but the slight tremor in Ming Zhang’s voice betrayed his fear. After a moment’s thought, Han Zhen slowly lowered his hand.
Ming Zhang stared tensely at the hand clutching the curtain until it finally let go. Only then did his ragged breathing gradually steady. In the darkness, he reached for the chain that never seemed to grow warm, just like the heart he could never reach no matter how hard he tried.
Perhaps Han Zhen was the only one left who would still come to see him.
But what was the point? Just so he could see how wretched he had become?
Ming Zhang gripped the hard, icy chain tightly until it dug painfully into his palms. His lowered lashes concealed the sorrow in his eyes, yet the words that left his lips were as cold as the hard iron chain itself.
“Since I did it, I’ve considered all the consequences before I acted. What right do you have to say any of this to me? Because you begged like a dog underneath me that day?”
Silence fell outside the bed curtains.
Ming Zhang lowered his head, the corners of his lips curving into a bitter smile. Words that venomous should have enraged him. He would surely turn and leave without a moment’s hesitation.
Yet in the next instant, light he had not seen for so long pierced his eyes like needles. Ming Zhang had no time to react. He could only squeeze his eyes shut and let out a low cry.
Han Zhen had not left. He threw the bed curtains aside in one swift motion, only to freeze on the spot.
This was no longer the spirited, lofty, and arrogant Ming Zhang of before. His ankles were bound in dark iron shackles, with a chain fastened to the foot of the bed. His entire body was sunk into the bed, and the instant the curtains were pulled open, he raised an arm to cover his face, as though unwilling to let anyone see what he had become.
“Ming Zhang…”
Just moments ago, Han Zhen had still been able to rebuke him through the curtains. But faced with this sight, the pain surging through his heart tightened his throat until everything he wanted to say was caught there.
It had only been a few days, yet his wrists looked so fragile they seemed as though they would snap with the slightest squeeze. His skin was so pale it almost seemed translucent. Most of all, those eyes that had always shone like brilliant stars were now clouded over, their light extinguished.
“Do you think Yan Yihuan was the only one you destroyed? No. You destroyed far more than that…” Han Zhen forced down the ache in his heart. “You destroyed yourself, and you destroyed…”
Destroyed me as well.
For the first time, Han Zhen saw him at his most vulnerable state, and Ming Zhang simply let his arm fall. A sharp, piercing look flashed across his eyes. He had even prepared harsher words, intending to drive Han Zhen away with anger. Yet Han Zhen merely stood there in silence, his expression growing calmer by the moment.
A quiet sense of distance spread between them. It hurt Ming Zhang far more than any rebuke. Panic, unfamiliar and inexplicable, rose within him, forcing him to lift his head and meet Han Zhen’s unwavering gaze.
There was no anger in those eyes as they rested on him.
“Do you really think I ever cared whether I was on top or on the bottom? Ming Zhang, I told you back then.” In his gaze there lingered pain, love, and pity. “I didn’t care. I only cared whether that person was you.”
Beneath the covers, Ming Zhang’s hand clenched the bedding. The faint rattle of the chains still betrayed the involuntary trembling of his body. Somehow, he knew what Han Zhen was about to say. He wanted to stop him, but Han Zhen continued calmly,
“You never turned back, so I couldn’t turn back either. But that one time was enough for me.
“Ming Zhang, those who walk different paths cannot make plans together[mfn]道不同不相为谋 – A Chinese idiom that means ‘people of different aspirations or principles cannot get along together.'[/mfn]. You no longer have to be annoyed about me always following behind you.
“From now on, I won’t follow you anymore.”
Han Zhen’s resolute turn away shattered every last piece of Ming Zhang’s composure.
An unprecedented wave of panic engulfed him.
The person who had followed him since they were kids, the one he had always assumed would never leave, the one whose presence annoyed him whenever he looked back but whom he had never once thought of driving away, no longer wanted him.
What gave him the right to follow whenever he pleased, then leave whenever he pleased?
And what gave him the right to say he cared, only to walk away so decisively!?
“Han Zhen!”
It was the first time he had called that name with reluctance and fear. But all it did was make Han Zhen’s steps falter for half a pace before he continued walking forward.
The chains clattered violently, echoing throughout the palace hall. In panic, Ming Zhang crawled to the edge of the couch, but a sharp pain in his ankle forced him to stop where he was. Helplessly, he watched that figure walk farther and farther into the light before disappearing beyond the palace doors as they slowly closed.
Ming Zhang vaguely realized that this was the first time Han Zhen had ever shown him his back, and only then did he realize that this was what Han Zhen saw when looking at him all along.
The narrow beam of light grew thinner and thinner until it was no more than a thread. At the instant it vanished, Ming Zhang heard a faint yet unmistakable sound in his mind.
It was like a taut string, stretched far beyond its limit, suddenly snapping. The force of its recoil left him heavily wounded. A low laugh echoed through the desolate hall with startling clarity, along with a choked sob so faint it was almost impossible to hear.
