[Yao City · Western Street Mouth]
Fire rolled in waves. In the distance, the clocktower trembled in the night, as if it might collapse at any moment.
Li Yan strode over broken tiles and ash, lifting his gaze to the towering Yao Tower.
At the tower's crown, the Yao sigils were pulsing with an unnatural light. It wasn't the steady rhythm of stabilized Yao energy, but a bizarre, irregular throb, bright then dim, like a heart skipping beats in panic.
His brows drew tight. "...This isn't right."
A deputy stepped forward. "General, that light… it looks like someone tampered with the array-veins."
Li Yan's eyes darkened.
"The Yao Tower is the city's array-core. If anything happens here, the illusion array won't just trap people. It'll backlash against the entire Yao City."
He made the decision instantly. "Pass the order. Seal off the western street mouth. The rest of you, up the tower with me!"
The soldiers moved at once. The clatter of metal echoed through the firelight. Li Yan advanced in full armor, footsteps heavy and unwavering.
He stared up at the tower. The flames drew a bright line across his pupils.
A battlefield warning.
[Yao City · Inner Court of the Yao Palace]
The wind howled. The blaze painted the whole sky red.
Within the palace's high walls, banners of gold and crimson snapped violently in the gusts. Tens of thousands of Yao-armored troops held formation, disciplined as a drawn blade.
Si Chengxun stood atop the palace steps, gaze piercing through layered rooftops toward the Yao Tower's strange glow in the distance. Firelight reflected on his armor, calm as stone.
"All troops, hear me," he commanded, voice like iron. "Seal the Yao Palace's three inner gates. Deploy the outer perimeter to the North Alleys and East Cliff."
"No one enters without my order."
The horns sounded. The Yao-armored ranks moved in flowing black, spear and halberd raised as one. The sheer momentum made the palace walls seem to tremble.
He turned to his deputy. "Report from Changle Palace and the East Pavilion."
The deputy clasped his fist. "The Eldest Princess has sealed Changle Palace and stationed close guards. The Crown Prince remains in the East Pavilion, personally regulating the eastern array-veins to stabilize the flow of Yao energy. All palace troops have been deployed as ordered along the four corridors and the imperial stairways. No external enemy breach so far."
Si Chengxun gave a small nod, but his expression never loosened.
"Guarding isn't only defense." His voice dropped. "If the Yao Tower falls, the palace will be first to take the strike."
He paused, lower still, each word measured. "If the array-veins reverse, evacuate Changle Palace and the East Pavilion immediately. The Crown Prince and the Eldest Princess must not come to harm."
"And the Realm Emperor and the Yao Empress in Yunhua Palace, assign troops to protect them as well."
"Yes!" The deputy hurried away.
Wind swept through the long corridors, lifting ash across the stone.
Far off, a heavy bell tolled. It was Yao City's highest alarm.
Palace Defense: Full Lock.
[Changle Palace]
The flames reddened the palace eaves. The wind carried smoke and the bitter taste of burning.
Si Yirou stood on the high steps of Changle Palace, watching the fire beyond the walls, her chest tightening in quiet waves. In her hand, the jade hairpin Li Yan had given her was clenched so hard her fingers had gone pale. Still she did not let it go.
"…That fool. He's already gone to the Yao Tower, hasn't he."
Her whisper scattered into the wind, but the sharpness between her brows couldn't hide her unrest.
A close attendant reported carefully. "Your Highness, the general has sealed the western street mouth. We heard the sigils within the tower are backlashing. He—"
"Enough." Si Yirou cut in, turning her back to the firelight. There was a tremor pressed flat beneath her voice.
"I don't need 'we heard.' I want results."
She closed her eyes and drew a steady breath, putting the familiar cold dignity back on like armor.
"Notify the shadow guards. Continuous reports on the tower. If Li Yan…"
She stopped midway, lips tightening.
"If he dares die before me, even in the Yellow Springs, I won't forgive him."
The attendant lowered their head, too wise to speak.
Firelight lit the side of her face, revealing a softness she would never admit to.
She walked to the palace wall and lifted her eyes toward the distant Yao Tower.
"You said you'd protect my peace for a lifetime," she murmured. "Then don't let me see you break your vow."
[East Pavilion]
Inside the East Pavilion's array chamber, Yao energy churned like a tide.
Si Moyan sat cross-legged, both hands pressed to the ritual disk. From his fingertips, golden veins of light emerged inch by inch, threading into the array.
A counselor rushed in. "Your Highness! The tower-core tremors haven't stopped. The fire has spread into the central wards! The households have fallen into panic—"
Si Moyan opened his eyes. The gentleness there couldn't hide the pain beneath it.
"Evacuate the elderly, women, and children from the market wards first. Open the southern canal gates, draw water to reduce heat. Guide citizens into the inner streets. The troops hold formation. I'll stabilize the tower's breath."
The counselor paled. "If the Yao energy goes out of control, you'll be backlashed—"
Si Moyan only shook his head, voice calm.
"If I can't even protect the people, what right do I have to call myself Crown Prince?"
He rose and pushed open a half-latched window. Night wind and ash poured in. Far away, streets burned, cries breaking on and off like frayed rope.
He watched the sea of fire, expression complex, grieving and resolute.
"This city was built with lives. The bloodline in the palace matters, yes. But without the people… what does any of it mean?"
He returned to the disk and placed his fingers down, steady as oath.
Yao energy surged again. Golden light flowed like a vast current, running through the eastern array in all directions.
Outside the chamber, palace attendants knelt in hurried rows, staring at his luminous silhouette as if at a god.
Firelight flickered across the gold tracery of his armor and caught a hard glint in his eyes.
Not hunger for power.
Compassion for all living beings.
[Yunhua Palace]
The music was slow. The palace lamps swayed.
Mu Yao's fingertips drifted over the strings, the zither's sound like water, gentle enough to make one forget a war was burning outside the walls.
Si Chengjing reclined on the couch, sipping warm wine. He smiled, humming softly along.
"A-Yao… today your playing is steadier than ever."
Mu Yao's hands paused for the briefest beat, then continued, forcing calm into her voice. "You've had too much to drink, A-Jing."
He only laughed, eyes soft in a way that felt almost unreal.
Just then, a clamor of footsteps erupted outside the hall.
The melody snapped.
A note cut off like a dream shattered by a hand.
Si Chengjing frowned, setting the cup down. "What is that noise? Why all this commotion?" His tone still carried that gentle, withdrawn warmth, but impatience and confusion bled into it.
Moments later, a guard stumbled in, soot and blood on his body, dropping to one knee.
"Your Majesty— the Yao Tower's veins have erupted! The city fires are out of control! Prince Chengxun has declared full palace lockdown and ordered us to protect you!"
Si Chengjing blinked, lost. "The Yao Tower? Lockdown? Who's making jokes at a time like this?"
He waved, as if dismissing a bothersome servant. "Withdraw. Don't startle A-Yao."
The guard looked up, frantic. "Your Majesty—!"
Mu Yao rose. "Wait outside and hold the perimeter."
Her voice was gentle, but it carried the weight of command. The guard froze, then had no choice but to retreat.
The hall fell quiet again, except for the firelight flickering through the window cracks, painting their faces in restless orange.
Si Chengjing turned slowly toward her, brow furrowed like a child's. "A-Yao… why is there fire outside?"
Mu Yao walked over and filled his cup again, tone smooth as silk. "Perhaps the wind knocked over a lantern. Don't be afraid."
He stared at her, his expression briefly disordered, then gradually eased. He sighed.
"With you here… I fear nothing."
Mu Yao lowered her gaze, fingers tightening around the cup.
Outside, shouts and horns swelled in waves. The firelight was already reddening the palace walls.
She sat back down at the zither. Her fingers returned to the strings, her voice lowered into something like a prayer.
"Then let your consort play this once more for you…"
The music rose again, but it no longer held its former ease.
The flames and wind swallowed the notes whole.
The melody did not stop. Incense drifted.
Si Chengjing reclined with the wine cup in both hands, eyes fixed on Mu Yao's back. His expression was serene, mouth curved as if he were floating in a time long gone.
"A-Yao… this tune," he murmured, "isn't it the one you played for me in that winter snow?"
Mu Yao answered softly, "It is."
Si Chengjing seemed satisfied. He nodded, smiling like a boy.
"Good. Then remember to have them prepare osmanthus wine for you. You love that flavor."
Mu Yao lowered her lashes. "Yes."
He rocked the cup gently and spoke as if to himself.
"You always said… osmanthus smells like the taste of autumn wind."
He laughed, a gentle, distant sound.
Mu Yao listened in silence, a single flicker of light crossing her eyes and vanishing.
She knew his illness would never be cured.
The memories he spoke of were all details from his days with Mu Yunzhao. Sometimes, even she began to blur at the edges, unsure whether she was Mu Yunzhao or Mu Yao. These days of companionship were sweet, and yet beneath them was a quiet sourness she could not name.
This was not a poison-born hallucination.
It was a prison built of memory.
The dream-drug gnawed at his consciousness, leaving him forever stranded in youth.
He remembered everything that had been.
He could not recognize what was now.
So in his world:
He was still the spirited Second Prince.
Yunzhao still lived.
And Mu Yao was only a mistaken shadow.
Outside, firelight reddened the palace walls. The guards' cries drifted near and far.
Mu Yao sat before the zither, watching him.
Hands that once held the realm now trembled faintly, clinging only to a wine cup.
She spoke softly. "A-Jing. It's late. You should rest."
Si Chengjing lifted his eyes, muddled yet tender. "A-Yao… don't go."
Mu Yao's chest tightened. She moved to his side and answered gently, "I'm here. I won't go."
She tucked his robe closer, her touch feather-light.
He leaned into her shoulder and laughed under his breath. "You're so good…."
Mu Yao's lips moved, but only a quiet response came out. "Yes."
Firelight slipped through the lattice windows, outlining the two of them leaning together:
An emperor asleep in the past,
and a woman awake, yet unwilling to leave the dream.
Outside, the wind screamed.
Inside, the dream continued, quietly, stubbornly,
until the fire truly entered the chamber,
until illusion and reality could no longer be told apart.