Chapter 10#
Fate#
The firelight blazed bright, illuminating the night sky — and the stunned expression on Lu Yan’s face.
Xiao Bai was beside himself. “Heng-ge——!”
Yin Yuheng didn’t seem to hear. He stood unmoved in the gusting night wind, white-robed and bow in hand.
Where the arrow had struck, a column of fire erupted skyward, accompanied by a piercing, agonized shriek.
“You’re dead!”
A figure burst out of the flames. A storm of silver needles came screaming from every direction. It was the demon who had been hunting Lu Yan from the shadows.
Yin Yuheng gave a cold laugh. “A common demon, daring to make trouble in my Chaoge?”
He set down the bow and flicked his wrist — a sword was in his hand.
Ding ding ding — the needles coming for him were batted away by the blade and rained to the ground.
“Just a Golden Core brat—” The demon, badly wounded by that unexpected arrow and blind with fury, forgot everything else and came surging toward Yin Yuheng in a frenzy.
The full weight of a Yuan Ying stage demon’s power bore down. Something sweet surged in Yin Yuheng’s throat. A thread of blood crept to the corner of his lips.
“Heng-ge!!” Xiao Bai’s voice shook.
In that critical instant, someone behind Yin Yuheng grabbed his wrist and pulled him back. At the same moment, a beam of sword light swept across, interposing itself between Yin Yuheng and the demon’s raking claws.
Yin Yuheng found himself half-cradled against the other person’s chest.
“…Lu Yan?” He turned his head.
The firelight played across Lu Yan’s profile in shifting light and shadow. Yin Yuheng could see the tight set of his lips and his half-lowered eyes. Wind roared around them, the clash of weapons rang without pause — and through all that noise, Lu Yan’s voice came to him in fragments.
“Bai Heng…”
He knew Yin Yuheng’s real name by now. Yet he called him Bai Heng anyway, by instinct.
“This bow — is it yours?”
There it is.
Yin Yuheng’s voice curved slightly upward. “It is.”
You know the truth now. So what will you do?
He couldn’t quite name what he was feeling — something like a hidden, furtive thread of anticipation, and beneath it, the detached composure of someone watching events they had long since predicted unfold.
——
Yin Yuheng was twenty-one years old. He had been in this world for twenty-one years.
He was the third child — one older brother, one older sister. His brother was steady and composed, cool-faced but soft-hearted. His sister was free-spirited, gone from the palace for ten months out of every twelve, but every time she returned she remembered to bring Yin Yuheng all manner of trinkets and novelties to make him smile.
He was the Li Dynasty’s pampered little crown prince, and more than that — he had family who loved him in earnest.
The distance he’d felt at first gradually dissolved. In time, Yin Yuheng came to truly think of this place as home.
He hated solitude. He hated the empty apartment from his past life. He hated the smell of antiseptic in hospital corridors. He loved the warmth of the everyday world, loved the noise and texture of ordinary life — and everything he loved, he had found here.
Even if this world is just a book, Yin Yuheng thought, that’s all right.
He grew up slowly, without worry, everything proceeding in its natural order.
Until he was thirteen, and Xiao Bai suddenly reminded him: the story was about to begin in earnest.
Like waking from a beautiful dream with a start, Yin Yuheng remembered — this was a tragic romance novel, full of suffering and torment, and he was the protagonist shou, the one destined to be hurt and broken by a series of faithless gong.
He had come to this world to take the protagonist’s place. Every misery, every cruel entanglement — he was meant to live through all of it.
Thirteen-year-old Yin Yuheng was still naive enough to flip through the plot and think: who in their right mind wants to carry out a ridiculous task like this? If he simply never went to Fengliang Prefecture, never encountered Li Guanghan — none of what came after would happen. How could a tragic fate trap him if he refused to walk into it?
Yin Yuheng made up his mind not to leave Chaoge. He believed this was enough to prevent the disaster.
He hadn’t anticipated that an assassination attempt would suddenly rock the capital, that he would be gravely wounded for no apparent reason — his heart meridians damaged, leaving him unconscious.
And so he was forcibly sent to Fengliang to recuperate.
The moment he woke in Fengliang, Yin Yuheng felt a bone-deep chill crawl up his spine, as though his blood had frozen in his veins.
That was the first time he truly understood: fate could not be defied. The plot would happen regardless.
In Fengliang, he encountered Li Guanghan exactly as written. He had tried to strike first and gain the upper hand — and failed.
He “saved” Li Guanghan, just as the story decreed.
He refused to accept it.
It was then that he found a small blood slave in the Fengliang Prefect’s manor. He looked at the child’s fragile body, the terrified eyes, the trembling shoulders — and something in Yin Yuheng stirred with sudden, unexpected pity.
You are called a slave. I am called a crown prince. We seem as different as heaven and earth. But neither of us has a choice. Under the hand of fate, we are not so different after all.
I cannot change my own fate. But perhaps I can try to change yours.
And so he rescued the little blood slave — tended his wounds, taught him to read and write, granted him his freedom, and helped him take revenge.
The child’s eyes would light up bright. He would cling to Yin Yuheng and call him gongzi, and sometimes, in a small soft voice, call him gege.
When Yin Yuheng left Fengliang, he felt glad. He had changed at least one person’s life, he thought. Though his own fate was full of suffering, knowing he had helped someone made it bearable — even worthwhile. Not a wasted journey through this world.
Afterward, Yin Yuheng lived through event after event, large and small. No matter what he wanted, no matter how hard he tried, the plot always found another way to reassert itself. What was the plot? he wondered. A destination reached by a thousand different roads. An inescapable cage.
That helpless, hollow sense of powerlessness finally peaked the day Zhu Anning appeared.
Zhu Anning — the one who would bring him endless suffering — was the same little blood slave he had once saved with genuine care.
I thought I had saved you, at least. I didn’t know you were already part of heaven’s calculation.
I pitied your suffering. I didn’t know you were meant to be one of my sufferings.
It was fate’s cruelest joke at his expense.
That day on the Star-Gazing Platform, Xiao Bai had sensed the shift in his mood and anxiously told him not to be sad.
Yin Yuheng had smiled and said: I’m not sad.
And truly, he wasn’t sad. He felt a flicker of anger, yes — but nothing that could be put into words.
——
The fire was dying down. The night wind carried with it the acrid scent of char. Yin Yuheng leaned against Lu Yan, watching from a place of cool detachment, wondering what Lu Yan would do next.
What was there to expect, really?
The same as always. What had to happen would happen.
Demon Clan in turmoil — the Shao Jun, Lu Yan, forced to flee the Three Wilds, running all the way to Chaoge. Here, he would chance upon the discovery that the one who had shot him was the Li Dynasty’s Crown Prince, and the seed of a calculating idea would take root.
The gentle, soft-hearted Crown Prince of Li — powerful, uniquely positioned. What a useful piece on the board.
He could serve Lu Yan’s purposes. And in the meantime, there was still that arrow to repay.
And so Lu Yan would deliberately draw close to Yin Yuheng, earn his trust, and use the Crown Prince’s power and influence to shelter himself from those hunting him. He would promise that if he ended the Demon Clan’s civil war, he would ensure a marriage alliance between the human and demon clans. With the Li Dynasty’s backing, Lu Yan would indeed return to the Demon Clan, reclaim the throne of the Demon Emperor, and become the Demon Clan’s new sovereign.
And then he would tear up the agreement.
Stripped of his usefulness, Yin Yuheng would become Lu Yan’s plaything to toy with at will — until at last he was abandoned in the frozen wastes, to die in the most agonizing way imaginable.
Yin Yuheng turned the plot over in his mind without expression. The wind seemed colder than it had been.
He heard Lu Yan murmur, as if to himself: “I see. That explains why I happened to meet you when I was injured.”
So now you know. What are you going to do about it?
Stay, make use of my position, and pursue your own ends?
Yin Yuheng watched as Lu Yan bowed his head and looked at him — looked at him with genuine attention — and then, all at once, broke into an expression that was equal parts bewildered and amused.
“You saved me… it wasn’t out of guilt, was it?”
…Hm?
Yin Yuheng blinked.
Lu Yan’s expression shifted. Something in him seemed to release — and then a quiet, unguarded smile spread across his face. “Somehow I feel a little relieved.”
Yin Yuheng: …?
Lu Yan blinked, a little sheepish. “Before — you were inexplicably kind to me. I was grateful, but it also felt… a little unsettling. And a little strange.”
“If it was because of the arrow — because you wanted to make it up to me — then everything makes sense.” A low, quiet laugh.
Yin Yuheng didn’t know how to respond.
“…You’re not angry?”
“Why would I be angry?” The arm Lu Yan had wrapped around Yin Yuheng tightened slightly, doing his best to shield him from the demon still raging nearby. “I exposed my demon aura near Chaoge. Of course you would have attacked.”
“Saving me, on the other hand, wasn’t the obvious move,” Lu Yan said with a soft exhale. “You really are too soft-hearted. Did it ever occur to you that if you didn’t finish the job, I might turn around and take revenge on you?”
Yin Yuheng: “…”
Something is wrong with this plot.
Yin Yuheng managed, with difficulty: “You—”
Before he could finish, a burst of demon power came crashing down. Lu Yan instinctively shielded Yin Yuheng beneath him and took the full force of the blow.
The color drained from Lu Yan’s face.
“You’re hurt?” Yin Yuheng startled.
Lu Yan let go of him and pushed him aside.
“Go. He’s coming for me.” Lu Yan swallowed down the sweet-iron taste rising in his throat. “Go, now.”
Yin Yuheng stared at him.
Lu Yan flashed him a brief smile, then turned and began moving toward the city gates — drawing the enemy with him.
Yin Yuheng understood what he was doing. He was trying to lead the danger away.
Amid the rushing wind, Yin Yuheng could hear his own heart beating, loud and insistent.
A strange, unfamiliar feeling surged through him.
In that moment, something kindled inside him — an intense, unprecedented curiosity about Lu Yan as a person.
“Don’t go.” Yin Yuheng reached out and caught Lu Yan’s arm, his gaze darkening. “You’re this badly hurt. If you leave now you’re walking into your own death.”
Lu Yan tried to speak. Then, without warning, his vision went black. He pitched forward in a slow, weightless fall.
“…Rest now.”
Just before he lost consciousness, Lu Yan felt Yin Yuheng catch him.
…
Yin Yuheng steadied Lu Yan and turned a cold gaze on the demon still attacking in a frenzy.
In an instant, countless threads of gold appeared in midair — weaving and crossing like the bars of a cage — and locked the demon in place.
The demon’s body seized rigid.
Every thread was a blade waiting to fall. He could feel it: one rash move, and the next moment he would be sliced to ribbons.
From the darkness nearby, two figures came hurrying forward.
One carried the bearing of command, a long saber at his waist. The other held a ceremonial whisk, his manner deferential.
Commander Qin and Eunuch De.
“We were late in protecting Your Highness — please forgive us!”
The wind had stilled. The bright moon was sinking in the west. Stars stretched in their thousands overhead.
Before long, the horizon would begin to pale.
Yin Yuheng glanced at Lu Yan and said, without particular emphasis: “Take him back with us.”
Commander Qin and Eunuch De exchanged a look of surprise. “Back to the palace? Your Highness, he is a demon. It would be against protocol…”
“I know what I’m doing. Bring Lu Yan to the Crown Prince’s Eastern Palace.” Yin Yuheng’s gaze swept to the demon suspended in the golden web, his tone flat and indifferent. “Throw that one in the Heavenly Prison. Have him questioned.”
Commander Qin and Eunuch De looked at each other once more, then answered in unison: “As you command.”
Yin Yuheng narrowed his eyes. Inside his chest, an enormous, unfamiliar curiosity stirred to life.