Now that everything had reached this point, now that his memories had returned, scheming had once again become instinct and meticulous calculation had seeped back into his very bones. All of Nalan Xuan’s former confusion and bewilderment vanished like smoke. Why had Yelü Zhen been so shocked—even losing control of his emotions—when they first met on the battlefield? Why, though they had all been captives, had Yelü Zhen rejected anyone else who approached him, willing to die rather than submit, while making an exception only for Nalan Xuan? Why, when Nalan Xuan first entered the palace, had Yelü Zhen been the one to immediately recognize his pregnancy? And why had Yelü Zhen been the first person to tell him about the Changyu Clan? In truth, everything was very simple. If one looked carefully enough, Yelü Zhen’s appearance alone was already powerful evidence.
“So what am I supposed to call you now—my paternal cousin, my maternal cousin, or General Yelü?” Blood relatives held absolutely no significance in Nalan Xuan’s eyes. If anything, kinship only made him more wary and guarded. To him, the world was divided into enemies and strangers. A stranger might one day become an enemy, but once someone became an enemy, he could never return to being a stranger.
“Since you already know who I am, you must leave this place. The Changyu Clan was never meant to remain in Hua. Xiliang is our homeland. You belong to Xiliang, and Xiliang is where you should return. That is why, even after losing the war, I endured the humiliation of staying alive. I have to take you back to Xiliang. It is my responsibility and my mission.” Yelü Zhen ignored Nalan Xuan’s obvious expression of So what? and mechanically recited the duty he believed rested upon him.
“Belong? Return?” Nalan Xuan laughed softly. Few words in the world could have sounded more foreign to him. “Did I hear you correctly? We’re nothing more than relatives in name. We’re hardly close, are we? You have no responsibility toward me, and I have no obligation to obey everything you say. Even if you saved my life, you still have neither the right nor the ability to control it. If you feel the bargain wasn’t worth it, you can take my life whenever you like. Though I suggest you do it soon. I’m in poor condition right now, so I could probably be captured without resistance. Give me time, however, and I can no longer guarantee either your casualties or your chances of succeeding.”
The phrase “silent until he astonishes everyone” could hardly have suited Yelü Zhen better. One moment he could treat Nalan Xuan like empty air and talk entirely to himself, and the next he could erupt in fury like a storm. “Don’t think you’re the only miserable person in this world! You suffered a few setbacks and hardships and suddenly think everyone under heaven owes you something. Let me tell you, you have no right to despise the world, and even less right to act as though you pity all creation. Stop thinking so highly of yourself! What I gave you was a decision, not an invitation to negotiate. There is no room for an arrogant brat who knows absolutely nothing to interfere!”
Birds of a feather truly did flock together. Had there been a third person in the room, and had that person witnessed Nalan Xuan’s attitude toward Nalan Jian when he decided upon his scheme, there would have been no doubt whatsoever about the blood relationship between these two men. The same arrogance and stubbornness ran through their bones, along with the same refusal to tolerate disobedience.
“Of course. When you’re under someone else’s roof, you have no choice but to lower your head. It’s only Xiliang, not the underworld. I suppose I should even thank you for your mercy.” Nalan Xuan raised a brow and shrugged indifferently.
Yelü Zhen naturally understood some of what Nalan Xuan was thinking: endure the humiliation, bide his time, and wait for an opportunity. They were too much alike. Precisely because they were so alike, Yelü Zhen knew exactly where to strike. “Don’t waste your time thinking about escaping. Believe me. Once we reach Xiliang, even if I try to drive you away, you won’t take a single step out.”
As though that were not enough, Yelü Zhen kindly added another blow. “The person who left you—the person you searched for in secret without ever finding, the person you even believed might be dead—is actually still alive and well somewhere in this world. Perhaps one day you’ll discover that someone you thought was far beyond the horizon has actually been right before your eyes.”
Only Nalan Xuan knew what kind of storm those words stirred within him, but Yelü Zhen understood perfectly well too. That was why Nalan Xuan’s forced composure only made Yelü Zhen more certain that he would come willingly. “There’s no need to doubt me, and no need to pretend you don’t care. You do want to know, and you care far more than you admit. You don’t even have to guess. I’ll tell you directly. The person I’m talking about is someone I should address as my younger uncle. And you should address him as Father.”
“Impossible!” The mask of calm shattered beyond repair. Nalan Xuan sprang to his feet like a cat whose tail had been stepped on. Elegance, composure, pride, aloofness—every last trace vanished, leaving behind only a ferocious roar.
“I’ve said everything I came to say, and I’ve already given you all the advice I can. Whether you believe me and what exactly you choose to believe are entirely up to you.” The situation reversed in an instant, their attitudes exchanging places. Yelü Zhen was now the relaxed one, even beginning to stroll leisurely around the room. “But you should think carefully about what you truly want and where you can obtain it. And before that, don’t forget that there is a country called Xiliang—a country tied to you by blood, and one that will remain an unwavering source of support behind you.”
He stopped there. When it came to whetting someone’s appetite and leaving them hanging, Yelü Zhen was not the slightest bit inferior to Nalan Xuan.
There was no need for anyone else to explain the interests at stake. Nalan Xuan had already understood them perfectly. Unwillingness, rage, the desire to make every person who had betrayed him experience agony a hundred times greater than his own—at present, the only thing capable of giving him that opportunity was the Xiliang Yelü Zhen described. All because of so-called family affection, so-called blood ties, even though Nalan Xuan had never believed in relationships that seemed designed only to invite betrayal and hidden blades.
Yet Yelü Zhen’s bait was far too tempting. Tempting enough that even a dragon’s pool or a tiger’s den would be worth entering. His father, who had suddenly vanished from the world one day, had been the only person capable of convincing Nalan Xuan that some final trace of warmth might still exist in familial love. That man had left behind only a simple letter bearing two words—“I’m tired”—and then disappeared without another sound. Nalan Xuan had long grown accustomed to separations, betrayals, and having no one left to rely upon, but this man alone, this man called Father, was someone whose reasons he still wanted to believe in. He wanted to ask him why. As for the man beyond that single wall, seated high above everyone else and sleeping amid countless beds of beauty, Nalan Xuan only wished for him to remain alive and well, living happily and harmoniously. Because the happier and more perfect his life became, the more people obeyed his every command, the more unbearable the pain and regret would be when everything suddenly changed and even heaven itself could no longer save him. The mere thought of it made an eager smile rise uncontrollably across Nalan Xuan’s devastatingly beautiful face.
But the elegance and gentleness were gone now. He remained dazzlingly beautiful, yet there was something colder and more vicious in him, like a poisonous poppy—something one knew one should never approach, yet could not help being drawn toward like a moth into flame.
He walked beneath the city gate. One step separated inside from outside. From the instant he had leapt from the palace wall, Nalan Xuan had known he should sever himself completely from everything within the city. Apart from resentment and revenge, he should leave no regret and no reluctance behind. The pain of losing his child would be returned tenfold, a hundredfold. He had believed he had thought everything through clearly, yet at the precise moment he was truly about to leave, his footsteps stopped.
The first time he had left this city, it had been to march westward to war, leading thousands upon thousands of troops at the head of the army. This time, he was leaving for hatred and pain, in the dead of night, carrying a body covered in wounds.
Perhaps he had become too accustomed to Ning Xuan’s way of thinking—too optimistic, too straightforward. Even now, some part of him still wanted to turn his head and look once more at those palace walls that were so close and yet impossibly distant. But that impulse was immediately strangled by Nalan Xuan’s pride and replaced by fury. Beneath the night sky, the only thing he left behind for this imperial capital tangled with countless grudges and attachments was an icy smile.
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