🥀 Whispers of Danger
Cheng Yi embraced a life of freedom unlike anything he had known before, journeying alongside the three children toward their father. Laughter echoed around them, their bond growing stronger with every step. Returning to the home they had left behind, they knelt at their late mother's grave. Cheng Yi's heart clenched at their quiet devotion, and he bowed his head in silent gratitude for the children who had become more than friends—they were his family now. A deep ache settled in him, the longing to have known their mother more, to have thanked her properly before she passed.
Back at the hut, Tian Ke took charge of cooking while Qian'ai eagerly carried in their fresh catch, ready to assist. Yun Yuhua trimmed vibrant greens from the village gardens, her hands moving gracefully. Cheng Yi stood at the doorway, content as he watched the easy flow of their work, the quiet unity of their bond filling the space with warmth.
"Cheng Yi, our father wouldn't mind if you joined us... Have you given it any thought?" Tian Ke asked, the sizzle of oil underscoring his words.
Cheng Yi smiled, feeling the weight on his shoulders lighten. "Well... I'd just be another mouth to feed," he teased. The children's laughter bubbled up, light and melodic, filling the air with joy.
"That's fine. When have we ever turned down feeding you? You're family to us," Qian'ai grinned. Cheng Yi's heart swelled with warmth, wishing the moment could last forever.
"Tian Ke's right. Baba would be glad to know we've made a friend," Yun Yuhua added, her eyes shining with sincerity.
Qian'ai nodded his voice firm. "We've wandered the countryside, never truly settling... but it's time to build a home together."
Tian Ke and Yun Yuhua exchanged a smile, their hearts brimming with warmth.
"Home is wherever we are together," Yun Yuhua murmured softly.
Qian'ai's expression softened with contentment. "Always," he affirmed, his quiet promise wrapping around them like a comforting blanket.
When dinner was ready and the steaming bowls set on the table, they gathered in a circle, sharing a moment of joy and gratitude.
"Chi fan le!" they cheered, reaching for their chopsticks in unison. That night, Cheng Yi shared a room with Qian'ai, while Tian Ke's bunk lay between theirs and Yun Yuhua's. As he lay side by side with Qian'ai, Cheng Yi gazed up at the rough-hewn ceiling, marveling at how far they had come.
"How did you cope with the trauma of losing your mother?" Cheng Yi asked, his voice soft in the darkness.
Qian'ai turned onto his side, offering a soft smile as he sighed. "I... I just did. Ke Gege wanted to be strong, and I did too. I pushed myself to train, so no one I care for would suffer as I did. The thought of losing someone else... it was too much to bear."
Cheng Yi offered a small, knowing smile. "Yet I lost someone else, just as suddenly…"
Qian'ai's sigh deepened. "It's hard to understand... What must your father have gone through to become like this?" he asked, his tone full of genuine concern.
Cheng Yi closed his eyes. "I'm not sure… Mother said he loved another woman, and wanted to marry her. When she refused, something inside him broke."
Qian'ai's voice softened. "I hope he's found soon... You deserve answers."
Cheng Yi nodded, the moonlight casting soft shadows on his face. "I do... but I fear they'll bring more pain than peace."
"Don't regret asking," Qian'ai whispered. "Give your heart some rest."
Cheng Yi thought of Tian Ke, Qian'ai, Yun Yuhua—their laughter, their kindness. A gentle peace washed over him, and he closed his eyes. "Sleep well," he murmured.
Everyone in the hut drifted into slumber. Outside, deeper in the forest, another figure moved under the moon's cold gaze. Hao Jian knelt beside a fresh kill, the crack of bone under his teeth echoing in the still night. Animal eyes glinted from the underbrush as he tore into raw flesh with bloody hands, his face streaked with gore. No fire warmed him, no servants to tend his needs—only the hunger that drove him on. He lifted his head, moonlight catching the savage glint in his eyes. He thought of Yun Yuhua's bright smile and felt his pulse quicken. Not for his son anymore, but for himself, he vowed he would return for her.
The next morning unfolded like any other. Qian'ai rose at dawn to hunt for food while Yun Yuhua pinned damp clothes to the line in the backyard. Cheng Yi watched her from the doorway and stepped forward.
"I can carry that," Cheng Yi offered, reaching for the basket.
Yun Yuhua hesitated a moment, a gentle crease of reluctance on her brow. "I—thank you, but I've got it."
Cheng Yi brushed aside her protest and lifted the basket with ease. "It's heavy. Let me."
She smiled, relief in her eyes, and together they secured the garments on the string. Cheng Yi couldn't help but grin at how light she seemed, even in the smallest of tasks.
"Yuyu!" Tian Ke's voice rang from the kitchen.
"Here!" Yun Yuhua called back.
"Baba sent a message for you!" Tian Ke announced, holding out a sealed note. Yun Yuhua's smile blossomed, and she bowed slightly to Cheng Yi.
"I'll be back…" she murmured.
Cheng Yi nodded, warmth in his chest. "Okay."
She darted inside to retrieve the letter. From across the yard, Cheng Yi watched her bright expression and wondered what news could lift her so. He returned to the clothesline, letting her moment rest unspoken.
Soon, Qian'ai returned, breathless from the hunt. He caught Tian Ke's sleeve, voice low.
"Ke Gege…"
Tian Ke set down his knife. "Is everything all right?"
"I found a carcass in the woods," Qian'ai said, eyes dark. "It was hollowed from the inside—no claw marks, no signs of fire. Whoever—or whatever—did this cut it clean, then ate the entrails raw."
Tian Ke glanced toward the hut, then back at Qian'ai. "Then how?"
Qian'ai swallowed hard. "I don't know… but it wasn't an animal."
They exchanged a grim look, the forest suddenly feeling too close.
Later, after Tian Ke and Qian'ai prepared breakfast, Cheng Yi and Yun Yuhua sat down to eat. Tian Ke's gaze lingered on Cheng Yi long after his bowl was empty, the silence thick with unspoken dread.
"Is everything all right?" Cheng Yi finally asked, meeting Tian Ke's eyes.
Tian Ke looked to Yun Yuhua, whose hand trembled on her cup. He sighed, voice heavy.
"We may need to move tonight—or by dawn tomorrow. What do you think?"
Yun Yuhua's smile faltered; she glanced toward the tree line. "If we wait, it could be too late. We should leave tonight."
Cheng Yi's heart thudded. He shared a look with Qian'ai, then nodded. "Tonight."
Tian Ke's lips curved in a tense smile. "Good. Qian'ai and I will hunt on the way. You two keep things ready here."
After the meal, Yun Yuhua quietly gathered the bowls and washed them. Cheng Yi filled several empty bottles at the riverbank, the sun climbing overhead.
Behind him, a shadow moved. Hao Jian stepped into view, silent as a ghost. He watched Cheng Yi stack the bottles—so many, not just for water. Why so many bottles? Not just for him… Could it be—her? She's here? A chance to reclaim what was denied, not for his son, but for him.
Hao Jian's lips curled as he closed the distance, the forest falling silent around them. Cheng Yi remained at the river, still filling the bottles. Not far off, Hao Jian scanned the trees until his eyes caught movement—Yun Yuhua walking toward the clearing with a small bundle in her hands. She didn't notice him at first and passed by. As the faint scent of her passed him, Hao Jian's smile deepened. He turned and spoke:
"Excuse me, young lady."
Yun Yuhua stopped and turned, surprised to see him. She bowed her head slightly out of habit. "Yes, elder? Do you need something?"
"Forgive the intrusion," Hao Jian said with a faint smile. "I was wondering… do you happen to know a man named Cheng Yi?"
Yun Yuhua hesitated. "I do. Why do you ask, elder?"
"I've been waiting to hear from him for quite some time," Hao Jian said calmly. "Has he… ever spoken of marriage to you?"
She blinked, taken aback. "No, he hasn't."
"Ah," he murmured, stepping closer, voice low. "Then perhaps… you would consider someone else. Someone who sees your worth more clearly."
Yun Yuhua recoiled a step. "This young woman is flattered, but such matters are not so simple."
She turned to leave, but he yanked her wrist. Pain flared, and she froze.
"I won't harm you… I'll honor you," he crooned. Fear choked her—Cheng Yi was still at the river, her brothers lost in the woods, and her dagger lay useless back in the hut.
"Please… release me. You're wounding me," she pleaded, voice quavering.
His grip tightened, knuckles white. Memories of Xian Lian and Zhiyong flickered through his mind—how he'd lost her touch. He hissed, "You think you can slip away again?" His words dripped with menace.
A shout cracked through the trees. Bottles clattered as Cheng Yi lunged into the clearing. But as he stepped closer, he saw the last face he wanted to see—Hao Jian.
"Ba!" Cheng Yi's voice cracked as he shoved the bottles aside and lunged, shoving Hao Jian off Yun Yuhua. "What are you doing here?"
Hao Jian's eyes blazed. "Cheng Yi…" he snarled.
Cheng Yi planted himself between them, arms raised. Yun Yuhua trembled behind him. "Stop hurting them! Face the consequences of your actions!"
Hao Jian stood silent, fury coiling in his chest. Cheng Yi's panic broke into desperation; he punched Hao Jian's breastplate. "I lost… I lost everything! Leave me—leave them alone!"
A resounding slap echoed. Cheng Yi's cheek burned as he sank to his knees. Yun Yuhua gasped, horror freezing her blood.
"Useless. Pathetic," Hao Jian spat, voice cold. "You were never meant to live."
Cheng Yi's world tilted. Born? Who gave me life?
Yun Yuhua slipped behind him, her small hand resting on his shoulder, reminding him he was not alone. Summoning her father's courage, she squared her shoulders.
"Leave," Cheng Yi said, voice firm. "Or the Emperor himself will bring you to justice. You are my father—I will not lose you again."
Hao Jian's chest rose and fell. He closed his eyes as if listening, but then—
A boot slammed into Cheng Yi's stomach, sending him sprawling to the ground. Yun Yuhua screamed and rushed to him. "Cheng Yi!"
Blood blossomed beneath his ribs, pain shooting through him. Hao Jian turned to her, a wicked grin spreading across his face. "You're coming with me," he purred, yanking her arm.
Cheng Yi wheezed, struggling to push himself up. His hand trembled as he reached out. "Ba… let her go…"
His voice cracked with desperation, the reality of the situation crashing into him. The man he had called father was now his greatest enemy. Yun Yuhua flinched, her eyes filled with a heartbreaking helplessness. She couldn't strike his father, even at this moment. Hao Jian dragged her past Cheng Yi, who could only watch in agonizing helplessness, clutching his side, unable to do anything.
"Stop! Release me!" Yun Yuhua's cry pierced the stillness of the clearing, a raw sound filled with both anger and fear.
Tian Ke and Qian'ai burst through the underbrush, swords drawn. They halted as Yun Yuhua's scream tore through the air.
"Yuyu!" Tian Ke roared, his voice thick with panic. Qian'ai swung at Hao Jian's back, but Hao Jian turned quickly, catching the blade with terrifying precision and tossing it aside like it was nothing.
Qian'ai didn't hesitate—he seized the sword again with his other hand and slashed fiercely at Hao Jian. But Hao Jian's foot collided with Qian'ai's chest, sending him flying backward. Qian'ai hit the ground hard, his sword clattering away, landing right next to Hao Jian's feet.
"Li'ai!" Yun Yuhua screamed, the sound cutting through Cheng Yi's soul. She yanked her wrist free of Hao Jian's grip, her eyes wide with determination. Tian Ke lunged at Hao Jian with another desperate strike, but this time Hao Jian's reflexes were too quick. The strike missed, and with a flick of his aura, Hao Jian struck Tian Ke's gut, sending him crashing into Qian'ai.
Cheng Yi's heart pounded in his chest as he lay there, watching everything spiral out of control. His friends—his family—were being hurt by the man he had once trusted. The weight of his helplessness hit him like a wave. He couldn't let this continue. He couldn't just watch them all fall.
Yun Yuhua snatched Tian Ke's fallen sword, her eyes blazing with defiance. She struck at Hao Jian, her blade catching his arm—but it wasn't enough. He moved with that same terrifying ease, the same cold precision that haunted their past.
Cheng Yi staggered, blood in his mouth, vision swimming—but his heart screamed a single command: Move. Do something.
And then—
Yun Yuhua turned the blade on herself.
Steel kissed her throat.
"Enough," she said, voice trembling but clear. "Take one more step—and I end this myself."