A beat of silence. Then—the room explodes into muffled laughter and scandalized gasps from both Xian Tian and Kai Fu nobles alike.
Wang Lee can't take it anymore. The laughter and gasps echo in his ears until they're a roar, the room suddenly feeling like a prison. He shakes off Jiyin's hand and walks out, ignoring the way the crowd parts for him like startled birds.
It's the first time he's done something like this—leaving in the middle of an important banquet, abandoning all etiquette. Wang Lee doesn't care, though. He just needs to get out.
He walks through the hall in quick, angry strides—almost running. The courtiers and guards bow as he passes, but he doesn't even glance at any of them.
that kid just said he wanted to marry him? It was the most ridiculous thing Wang Lee had ever heard.
Wang Lee slows his steps, chest still heaving with frustration. The thought worms into his mind—sharp and sudden.
"...Did I humiliate him too much?"
He stops walking entirely, fingers flexing at his sides. Jiyin was just a kid—five years old! Wang Lee had never make any boy cry before... but what if he's bawling now? What if that little prince is sitting in there sobbing because Wang Lee stormed out?
Wang Lee finds himself in the market square, his sandals scuffing against dusty cobblestones. The sounds of merchants hawking their wares and children laughing should be comforting—but all he feels is a gnawing guilt.
He shouldn't have run. That kid was just... being a child. Wang Lee shoves his hands into his sleeves, scowling at nothing. "Stupid," he mutters to himself, "I didn't even do anything wrong."
His steps slow as he feels a prickle on the back of his neck—that familiar feeling of being watched. Without pausing, he turns into an alley to get away from the crowd, ducking into a nearby deserted corner. It's darker and quieter here, away from the chatter and noise.
Wang Lee leans against a cold stone wall, arms folded as he tries to calm his racing heart. "Come out," he says coolly, "I know you're there."
Wang Lee's eyes narrow as a figure wearing a black robe steps into the shadows. A glint of steel—a blade!—and something in him snaps.
He dives to the side as the sword slashes at the air, sparks flying. The attacker is fast—not quite blurring, but close.
Wang Lee's back hits the wall with a gasp—he's never had a fight like this before. But there's no time to pause. He draws on his cultivation, feeling qi rush through his veins.
Wang Lee grits his teeth, pushing off the wall as golden qi crackles around him—raw and untamed. The air shimmers with heat distortion.
"Fool," he snarls, "I don't need a sword to kill you."
The assassin turns tail and runs, disappearing into the shadows with a howl of pain. Wang Lee lets out a sharp exhale, adrenaline still singing through his body. "...Coward," he mutters under his breath, watching the dark streets.
His breathing slows, the energy in his veins finally beginning to settle into a steady burn. There's a new cut on his cheek, stinging as blood trickles down his face—but otherwise he's just a little winded.
The sharp sound of clapping echoes through the alley—slow, deliberate. Wang Lee whirls around, his breath still ragged from battle.
And there he is.
Jiyin.
Five years old. Ponytailed white hair. Clad in pristine silk robes too big for him as he stares at Wang Lee with wide eyes and a small smile on his chubby cheeks. "Wow...." he says softly, "...Thank you."
You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.
Wang Lee stares, something dark in his eyes. "He was trying to kill you?" he whispers, almost disbelieving. Jiyin nods casually, as if being targeted with assassination attempts was the same thing as a scraped knee.
"It happens sometimes," he says. The look in Wang Lee's eyes softens with a strange mixture of anger, worry... and something almost like pity
Jiyin pulls something from his robes—a bright red gemstone. It has an almost translucent quality, like blood, and it gleams in the alleyway.
Wang Lee stares at it for a moment—it looks too precious for a kid like this to be holding it so casually. Wang Lee glances back at Jiyin. "They're after that?" he asks, voice quiet.
Jiyin reaches into his small robes and pulls out a ruby—the kind you'd find in any market stall, polished but ordinary. It doesn't hum with qi, doesn't glow unnaturally. Just a pretty red stone.
"They're after me because of this," he says seriously, as if it makes sense. "Mom says only I can have it."
Wang Lee takes the gem from him—turns it over in his fingers. No energy pulses through the ruby at all... not even traces of spiritual resonance. "Hm." He tucks away suspicion behind narrowed eyes: "So his mother lied to him... and for some reason Jiyin isn't supposed to know why they really want him dead."
Jiyin reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small figurine, a miniature Qilin carved from jade. It's an old charm, the kind of thing kids have as good luck amulets. He smiles faintly as he holds it up.
"When I use this huluisi, our Qilin comes to save me."
Wang Lee frowns. "Huluisi?"
Jiyin holds the ruby tighter, his small fingers curling around it like a lifeline. "This gem gives me powers," he says softly, "It's like my life. If I lose it... Mom says bad things will happen."
Wang Lee stares at him for a long moment—then exhales through his nose, something unreadable flickering in his eyes. "...Hm. Beautiful" He repeats quietly—not mocking, just... uncertain.
Jiyin tilts his head, studying Wang Lee's face with those big, unreadable eyes. The ruby glints dully in the dim alley light as he holds it out slightly. "Do you like it?" he asks—soft and curious, like a child truly wanting to know.
Wang Lee hesitates. He looks at the gemstone—the cheap imitation of something supposedly powerful—and then back at Jiyin's hopeful expression. His throat tightens for a second before he forces out: "...Yeah." A pause. "It's... pretty."
Jiyin shoves the ruby into Wang Lee's palm, his small fingers closing around the gem. "Then take it," he repeats, determined.
Wang Lee hesitates. He stares at the kid, the ruby, the way the light reflects off its red surface. His breath stutters in his throat. "H-Hold on," he finally replies, "It's... your life. Your power. The thing that keeps you safe."
"Why would you give it to me?" he asks, looking down at the ruby. It's just a pretty red stone. There's no special energy humming through it, no sign of anything magical or powerful. It's just a child's toy that Jiyin thinks is his life.
A heavy silence hangs between them. "Just... why?" he repeats, quieter than before.
Jiyin simply shrugs, looking up at him with those guileless, big eyes.
"You like it, right? You said it's pretty," he asks, as if his logic is obvious—and this answer should be equally simple.
Jiyin tilts his head, completely deadpan. The ruby is still clutched in Wang Lee's palm as the little boy stares at him expectantly.
"...Now will you marry me?" he asks.
Wang Lee stares, speechless for a moment. Then he finds his voice, and the words come out hoarse and strangled. "I can't... I'm a boy," he says weakly.
Jiyin just blinks at him, completely unbothered. "So?" he asks.
Wang Lee gapes at the kid—a thousand questions on the tip of his tongue but all he can manage is a disbelieving; "You. You're five years old. You don't... how do you not understand this? Boys don't marry other boys."
Jiyin tilts his head again, looking genuinely puzzled. "So? Who makes that rule?"
Wang Lee feels a mix of despair and incredulity bubbling in his chest—two emotions that shouldn't coexist, yet somehow do. "What do you mean, who... it's just... a rule, alright? It's how things are."
"And who made these 'rules'? You?" The kid doesn't seem mad or upset, more curious—like a child asking why the sky is blue.
Wang Lee wants to scream. "No! No one made them, they... they just are!" he sputters, his usual composure completely gone.
Wang Lee takes a deep breath, trying to gather his thoughts—and his dignity. "And... even when we get older, we're both boys," he says slowly, trying desperately to make the kid believe this. "Boys can't... not with other boys."
Jiyin studies him, unblinking. "And if there were no rules... if you could marry anyone..." he murmurs, "Would it be me?"
Wang Lee's mouth opens—then shuts. His fingers curl around the ruby like a lifeline, but it doesn't answer for him. The silence stretches between them until finally—finally—the prince lets out a slow breath. "...Yes."
The next day,
there's a procession of carriages winding through the city streets. The people gather, watching as the Emperor and Empress' carriages roll past. Servants run alongside the wheels, scattering flowers on the cobblestones. And at the very back, one little carriage carries only one child—Jiyin.
He stares out at everything, silent and serious, his hands resting in his lap. There's a new charm hanging from his robes; a bracelet of red thread.
Eight-year-old Wang Lee stands frozen at the edge of the courtyard, clutching that worthless ruby in his palm. His knuckles are white from how tightly he's gripping it—like if he lets go, something irreversible will happen.
Morning when...Jiyin's carriage rolls past him... The little prince leans out slightly—just enough for their eyes to meet one last time. "Keep it safe," he says quietly... as if Wang Lee is being entrusted with more than just a trinket.
(A week later)
Wang Lee is still staring out his window. The city spreads out below—a sprawl of rooftops and courtyards and sprawling gardens. He should be focused on his studies. He should be training. He should be anything but what he is, but...
He's thinking about Jiyin. About that little boy with the quiet eyes. About the ruby in his hand and the weight it somehow feels like it carries.
Time passes....
"Empreror's DEATH?!"
The news hits Xiantian like a shockwave. The Emperor—the man at the very center of everything—dead.
.....
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