The warmth of the noodle shop, the comfort of full stomachs, and the fragile trust built over miles of road vanished in an instant.
Feng and Lusi were done eating. The simple meal felt like a celebration, a silent acknowledgment of the truths shared between them. He was a prince. She was the daughter of a legend. And yet, in that small restaurant, they were just Feng and Lusi.
"Wait here," Lusi said, brushing crumbs from her robe. "I will go check for an inn to stay for the night." "Okay.Go on," Feng replied, giving her a small, reassuring smile.
He watched her go, a slender figure weaving through the evening crowds of Zhejiang. He sipped his tea, his mind replaying her words. Ding Lisu. The name echoed like a war drum in his memory. The pieces of her—her strength, her independence, her defiance of courtly gossip—all clicked into place. She was her mother's daughter.
He was so lost in thought, watching the space where she had disappeared, that he didn't notice the shadows detach themselves from the alleyway. He didn't see the hard, calculating eyes of men from a rival kingdom, men who had been searching for the lost Second Prince for days. They saw their prize, distracted and vulnerable. As Feng's gaze followed Lusi, one of them moved with serpentine speed, tipping a vial of clear, odorless liquid into his teacup.
Feng took another absent-minded sip. The world began to soften at the edges before he even registered the strange heaviness on his tongue. His head spun; the chatter of the restaurant melted into a distorted hum. He tried to stand, to call out, but his limbs were leaden. The last thing he saw before darkness claimed him was the wooden tabletop rushing up to meet his face.
---
Lusi returned a short while later, a satisfied smile on her face after securing them good rooms. Her smile died on her lips.
The restaurant was in shambles. A table was overturned, bowls shattered on the floor, and the owner was wringing his hands, his face pale with fear. Patrons huddled in a corner, whispering nervously.
"Lusi!" the owner cried out, spotting her. "We were looking for you!" "What happened?"she asked, her voice sharp, her eyes already scanning the room for Feng. "Who did this to your restaurant?" "Leave it about the restaurant!Some people took your friend away!"
Lusi's blood ran cold. "Away? He went with them?" "No!They fought a lot! They... they kidnapped him!"
Her mind, usually so full of maps and travel routes, cleared into a single, cold point of focus. Feng. Taken.
"Hăo," she said, her voice unnervingly calm. "About your restaurant, I will pay for the mess." "It's those men who did this,so no need! We need to find your friend!" "Don't worry about it.Which direction did they go?" "Right." "Hăo.Xièxie."
The owner called after her, "Take some men!" but she was already gone, a streak of motion vanishing into the twilight.
---
The night was cold. Feng came to his senses with a bucket of water thrown in his face, gasping and choking. He was in a derelict hut on the outskirts of the city. His head throbbed, and his mouth tasted of bile and the bitter dregs of the drug. He tried to move, but rough ropes bit into his wrists and ankles. A filthy gag was stuffed in his mouth. Panic, cold and sharp, seized him.
A man loomed over him, his face cruel in the flickering light of a single lantern. "You are done for. There is no one to save you now."
Behind him, four more men stood in a grim, straight line, their hands on their sword hilts. This was it. This was how the Second Prince of the Ming Dynasty would die: nameless, bound, in a forgotten shack.
Suddenly, a thwip-thwip-thwip-thwip sound cut through the air. It was followed by four wet, choking gasps. The four men standing clutched at their throats, where a deep, precise cut had already ended their lives. They crumpled to the floor like sacks of grain.
A single, elegant throwing knife was embedded in the wooden column behind them, its blade glistening.
The lead man spun around, his eyes wide with terror. "Who's there?!"
A calm voice answered from the darkness above. "How did you think you could take my people away without my permission?"
Feng's heart leaped. He knew that voice.
Lusi was perched on a roof beam, silhouetted against the moonlit sky coming through a hole in the roof. She looked like a avenging spirit, her expression cold and utterly focused.
The man, recovering from his shock, yelled to his remaining thugs, "Attack her! Kill her!"
Lusi dropped from the beam, landing silently. As she fell, her hands went to her waist. With a twin shing of metal, she drew the two swords Feng had previously mistaken for small, decorative daggers. They were, in fact, perfectly balanced, deadly blades.
She didn't wait for them to come to her. She moved.
It was not a brawl; it was a brutal, efficient dance. She was a whirlwind of controlled motion, her blades extensions of her will. She parried, spun, and struck with lethal precision. She didn't waste a single movement. Within moments, the thugs lay disarmed and disabled on the ground, leaving only the leader.
He lunged at her, desperate. Lusi sidestepped his wild attack with an almost bored grace. In one fluid motion, she was behind him, one arm locking around his neck, the point of her sword pressed against his temple.
"Who sent you?" Her voice was low, a deadly whisper in his ear. "I will not spout anything!"he snarled, trembling in her grip. "Hăo a."She didn't hesitate. "Then die."
She ended it. Quickly. Mercilessly.
She wiped her twin blades clean on the man's robe, sheathed them, and ran to Feng. Her cold mask melted away, replaced by urgent concern.
"Don't worry. All good now." Her fingers, so deadly moments before, were gentle as she sawed through his ropes with one of her knives. As she helped him to his feet, her hand brushed his back. He flinched, a sharp hiss of pain escaping his lips.
Her eyes narrowed. She turned him slightly and saw the dark, ugly bruise and the cut on his back where they had hurt him. A flicker of the cold fury returned to her eyes, but she pushed it down.
"Come on," she said, her voice soft again. "Let's get out of here."
She slipped his arm over her shoulder, supporting his weight, and led him out of the shack and into the cleansing cold of the night.
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