Xue Feiyan froze, his gaze falling to the sword in his own hand. Damn it. If this escalated, Murong Jin would be guilty of treason, but he would be just as guilty for threatening her. In a dynasty that prized filial piety above all, his crime might be seen as the greater of the two.
"My apologies, Sister-in-law," he said, sheathing his sword.
"It's fine. We're family," Murong Jin said, gritting her teeth as she forced herself to stand, a smile on her face.
Xue Feiyan returned the smile. His finger tapped once on the hilt of his sheathed sword—a small, deliberate sound. Then he turned and left with his guard. The heavy door slammed shut, cutting off her view.
Little Dingzi returned to his post at the end of the corridor.
Murong Jin let out a long breath, but when she turned, she found Xue Liulan staring at her, his face a mask of fury.
"What?"
He didn't answer, his eyes fixed on her arm. A thin line of red was seeping through her fingers.
"Why didn't you dodge? He was the one who drew his sword." His voice was a mix of concern and anger.
She just smiled. "If this ends up before the Emperor, it's better to have real evidence—the kind that stands against an accusation of breaking a husband out of prison." She glanced at the gash on her right arm. "It's just a scratch. It'll heal."
She spoke so lightly, he didn't know whether to be angry or relieved. He shook his head and pulled her close through the bars. "It's not a pleasant feeling," he whispered, "watching your own woman get hurt."
A blush rose on her cheeks. "And watching your husband suffer isn't a pleasant feeling, either."
"You… I don't know what to do with you." He smiled. "The incense has almost burned down. You should go."
"What's your plan?" she asked.
He thought for a moment. "I still need to sound out Guo Shangzhong." He hesitated.
"What else?" She had seen the doubt in his eyes. "Is it about Die Man?"
"Yes. She's been helping me since I had nothing."
"And so you feel you owe her."
"I do. If this endangers her, can you promise to protect her?" he asked. It was a difficult request. He wouldn't blame her if she refused.
She was silent for a moment, then smiled. "Within my power, I will ensure her safety. Don't worry."
She had agreed. He was stunned.
"She helped you, which means she helped me," Murong Jin said. "Her safety is my responsibility. Besides, she controls your hidden forces. It would be a waste to lose them."
He looked at her, at the bright, clear light in her eyes, and a warm smile spread across his face.
An emperor must be without feelings. But thankfully, she is worth feeling for.
Xue Feiyan walked through the empty streets. He didn't walk fast, but Ling Yan kept her distance, as if she might vanish into the darkness.
She was still coughing. It had been half a year. Nothing had helped. The illness had only grown worse, affecting even her skills.
He sighed. He didn't care about the loss of her skill. But he knew she did.
"Don't worry about what happened. I wasn't going to do anything to her," he said, as if to himself.
The footsteps behind him stopped.
"Why have you stopped?" he asked, turning.
She stood in the middle of the street, her head bowed. The night wind stirred their hair, two separate strands, never to be entwined.
"I have a request, my lord," she finally said, her voice hoarse.
"What is it?" The hand at his side clenched.
But as he stepped toward her, she stepped back, keeping twenty paces between them.
"Speak," he said, his voice laced with anger.
"Please, my lord, release me from Night Blade." She fought back tears, her voice a cold, flat line.
He gritted his teeth. "You know the rule. Once you join, you can only leave by death."
"I… know." Her heart felt as if it had been plunged into ice.
"And you still wish to leave?"
A desolate laugh escaped her. She looked up. "Take care, my lord."
His eyes widened. A flash of cold light. He was moving, an arrow loosed from a bow.
Their wrists met. The tip of a steel needle was less than half an inch from her throat, its point grazing her skin, lifting a single, cold bead of sweat.
"What are you doing?" he roared, snatching the needle and hurling it into a nearby pillar.
"I don't want to be a burden," she whispered. "If I hadn't become your weakness, you would have had the princess brought before the Emperor for her crime today."
So she took it to heart.
"My weaknesses," he said, his hand on her shoulder, "are mine to protect. You are still in Night Blade. This is your new mission."
"What?"
He smiled gently. "Protect my weakness. Don't let any harm come to her. When I succeed, you will be rewarded."
She stared at him, then shook her head. "I have already decided. Please, my lord, grant my request."
His smile froze. His hand tightened on her thin shoulder. "If I don't," he said, his voice chillingly cold, "will you kill yourself right here in front of me?"
"Yes," she answered, her gaze unwavering.
"Hah. Good. Very good." He let her go, his anger so great it turned to laughter. "Spoken like a woman who has been with me for eight years."
His voice trembled slightly, and the sound sent a wave of pain through her. She looked away, biting her lip.
Shing. His soft sword was in his hand. He grabbed her hand, pressed the hilt into it, and took a step back, the tip of the blade at his own heart.
"My lord!" Her hand trembled.
"Since you have made your choice, then I will join you," he said, his eyes cold, and took another step forward.
She stumbled back, horrified.
"For eight years, you have been a part of my heart. If I am destined to die of a broken heart, then it is better to end it now." He even managed a faint, detached smile.
"No, no," she sobbed.
"I told you, you are not just a subordinate. You have forgotten. So I will remind you." He continued to walk forward. The sharp tip pierced his outer robe. A drop of blood welled at its point.
"My lord, I beg you, don't force me," she cried, and let the sword fall. She collapsed, her head in her hands.
He knelt and pulled her into his arms. "It is you who is forcing me," he whispered. "Ling Yan, do you truly not understand?"
"My lord, I only ever wanted to help you from the shadows. Now, even that is gone." She clutched his robes, as helpless as a lost child. "I don't want to be a burden."
"You are not a burden." He pressed a kiss to her forehead. "Silly girl, from the day you entered my service, you were destined to never leave my side. That was my choice."
"But I've lost the most important thing for an assassin. I've lost the right to stand by your side."
"Ling Yan, what does it mean to be my sharpest blade?" he asked, pulling her to her feet.
She didn't answer.
"It means we stand together, in life and in death," he said, his voice low and firm. "A warrior never abandons his blade, no matter how broken."
"And I," she whispered, her voice barely audible, "am still your blade."
High on a nearby rooftop, a figure sat watching.
"Now," he murmured with a smile, "it gets interesting." With that, he rose and vanished into the night.