Chapter 23#
Slave#
The searing branding iron melted the skin. All sound disappeared from He Lan Feng’s ears; all he heard was Jin Yang’s scream. The wounds on his chest and legs throbbed with pain, his body burning yet cold, barely able to stand. Yet from somewhere he summoned a fierce strength and shoved the Grand Shaman away.
The two men restraining Jin Yang loosened their grip. Jin Yang collapsed into his arms. He Lan Feng tried to hold him, but Jin Yang gasped and shoved him away violently.
The Grand Shaman clasped his hands in salute, bowing to Zhe Weng and A Wa. He Lan Feng was knocked to the ground, his entire body aching. Trembling, Jin Yang stretched his arms flat, knelt prone on the ground, and bowed his head deeply to Zhe Weng.
“Hmm?” Zhe Weng asked. “What did you say?”
“Thank you, Heavenly Sovereign, for the mark.” Jin Yang’s voice was broken; he paused after each word. He needed to breathe deeply to control the trembling and pain in his arms. Three inches above his left wrist was a bloody, mangled brand. The pattern was indiscernible. The fire had seared open his skin, and he smelled the scent of his own burning flesh.
Zhe Weng departed satisfied, the Grand Shaman following him. A Wa dismissed the others. Within the Hall of Long Plenty, only he and the Princess Consort remained, along with He Lan Feng and Jin Yang.
The Princess Consort pressed healing medicine into He Lan Feng’s hand and arranged a carriage to quietly send the two back. Jin Yang bowed to her in thanks. The young Princess Consort whispered a reminder not to let water touch the wound and to apply medicine promptly.
Candles burned inside the Hall of Long Plenty, but outside the sky had grown bright, scattering drifting snowflakes. Returning to the hall, the Princess Consort saw A Wa sitting on the carpet, nodding his head and muttering something unintelligible. As she drew closer, she heard him humming a song.
“Go lie down,” she said, wishing she could pull him up at once. “How could Father do such a thing in the Hall of Long Plenty? The smell of blood and burning—I dislike both.”
“He was angry because Beirong has no one like Jin Yang, and because Jin Yang dared to refuse him. If the Grand Shaman had been a moment slower, both the Da Yu men and the He Lan family would have died.” A Wa pulled her down to sit beside him, leaning against her. He took a relieved breath. “We’ve known each other for years. Has anything ever happened that you’ll remember for the rest of your life?”
“Of course. Why?”
“Once the warmth lingers, it’s unforgettable…” A Wa recalled how He Lan Feng had been unable to strike the blow and chuckled softly. “When a person gains true feeling, they become very interesting.”
Outside the Hall of Long Plenty, loyal ministers and attendant slaves scattered. The carriage carrying He Lan Feng and Jin Yang left the royal city. Two slender figures, previously hidden in a corner of the hall, now departed under cover of the snow haze. The carriage prepared by the Cloud Continent Princess Consort still held clean cloth strips. Gripping his teeth through a cold sweat, Jin Yang sprinkled medicine powder on the burned area himself and bit down on a cloth strip to bind it tight.
Operating one-handed proved difficult. He glanced at He Lan Feng before him. He Lan Feng hurried to help him tie it securely, a bit awkwardly. “I thought you were angry. That you wouldn’t let me touch you.”
“You shouldn’t have helped me then,” Jin Yang said, leaning against the carriage wall. He recalled the lively journey toward the Northern Capital with their party. “The Heavenly Sovereign was furious—couldn’t you tell?”
“I could,” He Lan Feng answered. “But I couldn’t not help.”
“How could you help a beast from the Chasing Vast Plain?” Jin Yang sneered, tucking his injured hand into his sleeve.
Silence filled the carriage for a time. He Lan Feng carefully extended his legs. Whether from cold or pain, Jin Yang’s face was pale. He patted his uninjured thigh. “I’m warm. Lean over.”
Jin Yang leaned against him. After a moment, he asked, “You have a fever?”
“Mm.”
“…What exactly are you here for?” Jin Yang’s heart was restless. He clenched his molars in frustration. “What can you possibly do?!”
“I have the Cloud Continent King’s token of passage. A small lie gets me into the royal city. Once inside, I can at least find you and get you out.”
“…What if you couldn’t get in? What if you got in but couldn’t save me?” Jin Yang shouted. “How could you be so reckless! Why didn’t you think it through more carefully before acting?”
“There was no time,” He Lan Feng said, looking at him. “Saving you was enough. I didn’t have time to consider the second possibility.”
“…You’re a fool,” Jin Yang turned his head away, unwilling to say more.
He Lan Feng took the Wolf Arrow from his robes and said softly, “Look—I have the Wolf Arrow.”
He recounted the previous night’s events to Jin Yang in detail. The Wolf Arrow’s shaft was black, save for a patch of dark red on the white fletching that wouldn’t rub off. Jin Yang took the arrow and examined it from all sides. This was a used Wolf Arrow—the tip had once pierced stone. Yet it remained undamaged. The diamond-shaped arrowhead was sharp and smooth, without a single flaw.
He couldn’t help but recall the Gao Xin Arrow that Jin Mingzhao had treasured.
Though Jin Mingzhao treasured it, he was rarely home. Jin Yang and his sister would run wild in the house, often brandishing the Gao Xin Arrow carelessly. Later, when Jin Yang began learning archery from his master, he once used the Gao Xin Arrow to shoot fruit for his mother. After being scolded, he cleaned the arrow and put it away quietly. That was when he discovered its extraordinary hardness—no matter how many times it pierced wood or earth, the shaft and tip sustained no damage. Washed clean with water, it looked brand new again.
“Will this be yours now?”
“The Cloud Continent King gave it to me.”
Jin Yang lifted the small window curtain. Light, along with fine snowflakes, poured into the carriage. He caressed the Wolf Arrow with meticulous focus. He Lan Feng watched him. For a fleeting moment, he remembered their first meeting—Jin Yang sitting in a carriage, watching the snow.
“Jin Yang,” He Lan Feng said urgently, wanting to tell him something. “I killed someone.”
Jin Yang’s head snapped up. He didn’t ask for details. His gaze immediately dropped to the wounds on He Lan Feng’s chest and thigh.
In the battle the previous night, he had killed three people in quick succession. The first and third he shot with arrows. But the second had been too close. The sensation of thick blood spraying couldn’t be shaken off. Even now, He Lan Feng still felt the sticky, warm touch on his hands.
The dying man’s curse still echoed in his ears. The God of Slaughter from the Chasing Vast Plain. The enemy of the Heavenly Gods. A life of solitary suffering, a death by unnatural means. He Lan Feng couldn’t ignore it. Everyone who saw his wolf pupils showed fear.
Jin Yang unfolded his hand. “These hands killed someone?”
“Mm.”
“And these same hands branded me a slave.” Jin Yang placed the Wolf Arrow in his palm and held He Lan Feng’s hand. “These hands also saved me once. Gave me gifts.”
He Lan Feng: “…”
He suddenly stopped wrestling with last night’s nightmare. He was running a high fever, while Jin Yang’s hands and the Wolf Arrow were cool. The temperature where they touched brought him calm and comfort. He completely relaxed, his shoulders no longer tense, his back resting against the carriage wall, letting Jin Yang lean against him.
He wanted to tell Jin Yang he could come closer—it didn’t really hurt.
But remembering his injuries, Jin Yang sat up after a while, no longer leaning against him. Both heard the various sounds outside the carriage as it passed through bustling streets: vendors calling, porters shouting, horses and carts neighing—all reached their ears.
He Lan Feng could only see Jin Yang’s back. The young Da Yu man was watching the snowflakes drift and flutter into the carriage. His hand, almost unconsciously, hovered over his branded left arm.
When they returned to General Tiger’s residence, they learned that He Lan Jinying and General Tiger had been detained in the palace. Zhuozhuo, who had woken that morning to find her second brother missing, along with Ruan Buqi and Jin Yang, was wailing loudly. Hundaer and Duze found Ruan Buqi scrubbing pots in the backyard, utterly exasperated, and dragged her straight inside.
Zhuozhuo ran to Ruan Buqi. Ruan Buqi picked the little girl up, steadied herself, and the killing intent in her eyes slowly faded.
When He Lan Feng and Jin Yang entered the residence, they happened to see Hundaer and Balongge’er dressed and ready to go to the royal city to search for them. Balongge’er saw He Lan Feng’s face, paler than the day before. Cold sweat burst forth. His legs trembled, and his voice shook. “Where is General He Lan? Does General He Lan know you’re hurt?”
He turned his head and saw Jin Yang following behind. His condition didn’t look good either. Chenshuang supported Jin Yang as they followed He Lan Feng toward the rooms. Balongge’er forgot to say that a slave shouldn’t stay in the master’s house. He bustled about, arranging for someone to heat water and prepare food, and sent for a shaman healer.
Even Zhuozhuo fetched her honey candies and timidly offered them to He Lan Feng. Hundaer and Duze didn’t know what to do. Standing in the room, they spoke as if just to fill the silence. “He Lan Feng, you’re impressive—able to fish a whole person out of the royal city. From today on, you’re the great king of Yetai. We acknowledge it.”
“Have someone look at the wound on Jin Yang’s hand,” He Lan Feng said.
Hundaer went over to Jin Yang and pushed back his sleeve. The freshly bound cloth was caked with blood and yellowish fluid. He tore it off roughly, making Jin Yang flinch in pain.
“…What is this?” Hundaer was stunned. “A slave brand?”
He grew a bit angry. “He Lan Feng—didn’t your brother say Jin Yang wouldn’t be branded?”
“It was the Heavenly Sovereign’s command,” He Lan Feng answered weakly. “My brother was useless.”
“That’s not right. This isn’t an ordinary slave brand.” Hundaer kept slaves in his household and was familiar with such marks. “The Beirong slaves don’t use this symbol.”
Only now did Jin Yang feel a twinge of admiration for him. The wound was mangled and hideous, yet he could still recognize the shape and pattern. “It’s the Cloud Continent King’s household mark.” Jin Yang explained the earlier situation.
Hundaer and Duze’s expressions changed. “The Cloud Continent King?!”
After hearing the full account, Hundaer paced the room, so angry he laughed. “He Lan Feng, are you a fool? You risked your life to save the Cloud Continent King, and the Cloud Continent King brands Jin Yang with their household mark?!”
He Lan Feng didn’t understand the deeper meaning. Hundaer punched him on the shoulder. “With the Cloud Continent King’s mark, Jin Yang is now the Cloud Continent King’s slave!”
The Cloud Continent King A Wa’s visit came half a month later.
He Lan Jinying and General Tiger had barely been home. After He Lan Feng and Jin Yang were injured, they came by only twice in haste. Then both men rushed onward, carrying the Dragon Diagram and setting off for Bishan City.
The day A Wa arrived, the weather was fine. The wound on Jin Yang’s hand had healed, though the scab hadn’t yet fallen off. The slash on He Lan Feng’s chest was essentially fine. All day he limped around on a crutch, watching Hundaer and Duze fight.
Someone announced that a shaman from the Office of Celestial Oversight had arrived. Chenshuang went to answer the door. Recognizing the Cloud Continent King, he froze. A Wa, oblivious, smiled brightly and held out the neatly wrapped gift. “Is He Lan Feng here?”
He entered the residence with two attendants, his injured arm not fully healed but his mood visibly cheerful. Before he saw He Lan Feng, he spotted Jin Yang under the eaves, roasting beans for Zhuozhuo.