Chapter 156#
The Hunt 07#
Beneath the lights, his cool and composed features were gilded with a layer of ambiguous softness. The redness had yet to fully fade from Anfi’s eyes, yet his gaze drifted to some point in the empty air ahead, his pupils faintly unfocused.
Gone was the fragmented, disorienting sensation of being deep in resonance — but something still felt off.
Like he had left the past behind, yet hadn’t quite returned to the present.
“Anfi?”
Anfi finally turned to look at him, slowly. Yu Feichen’s silver hair had long since come loose, soft waves falling in disarray across his forehead, a strand slipping over his eyes. Yu Feichen reached up to brush it aside, and the instant his fingers grazed Anfi’s cheek, Anfi shivered as if shocked — his already damp lashes misting over again.
He hadn’t come back to himself yet.
Yu Feichen knew then that he’d probably pushed things too far.
At odds with the state of his body was the look in his eyes.
Though he was in a lowly position, he gazed down from a great height. His frost-blue irises seemed to hold splinters of ice. Word by deliberate word, he said: “You overstepped.”
Fair enough.
Though it wasn’t clear what had gone wrong this time, at least he’d remembered his lofty station.
“You’re right,” Yu Feichen said. “You may do with me as you see fit.”
Anfi finally recovered a little strength, picking up the glass of iced juice again and taking a few sips. The near-dehydration that had set in eased slightly.
He went on fixing Yu Feichen with a cold stare, as though genuinely deliberating on what charge to bring against him.
Then Yu Feichen spoke.
“That said,” he said, “if you can’t handle even this — you might want to work on your stamina.”
This time the glass of juice landed squarely on Yu Feichen.
The amber liquid soaked through his clothing and streamed downward along the contours of his torso, and in the lamplight, the drenched skin shone with a faint, honeyed gleam.
Yu Feichen had finally gotten what he had once imagined he might.
“Bathroom first,” he said.
There was no way Anfi was walking on his own. Yu Feichen scooped him up horizontally; Anfi’s silk sleeping robe was draped haphazardly over him, its collar loosely tied, revealing beneath it a canvas of red fingerprints and bruises.
The bathroom’s décor was just as resplendent as the rest of the room. In the enormous floor-length mirror, their reflections stared back at them.
Looking at Yu Feichen in the mirror, Anfi said suddenly: “Who are you?”
Yu Feichen turned the ornately engraved taps above the bathtub and let the water run. He flicked an adjacent switch of indeterminate purpose, and rose petals came gusting out of copper pipes in the wall, settling on the surface of the water.
He replied evenly: “And who are you?”
Anfi turned his gaze to his own reflection. “I’ve forgotten.”
Steam rose and curled. The bath was ready. Yu Feichen came to stand before Anfi and helped ease the sleeping robe from his shoulders.
Anfi looked up and met his eyes. “I am your master,” he said.
A quiet, imperceptible smile touched Yu Feichen’s eyes. He leaned down and pressed his lips to the corner of Anfi’s eye.
If you say so.
Anfi frowned with displeasure at this transgression — but in the next instant he was lifted and lowered into the water.
After seeing to Anfi, Yu Feichen crossed to the shower on the other side. When he emerged, he found Anfi still in the tub, silently watching the rose petals drifting on the surface, thoughts unknowable.
At the sound of his movement, Anfi didn’t look up.
There were only two reasons a person might not react to sounds around them.
One: they were feigning composure.
Two: they had grown as accustomed to another person’s presence as they were to their own.
“Tell me about our current situation,” Anfi said.
“You’ve forgotten everything?” Yu Feichen asked.
“Yes.”
Despite having forgotten everything, he had not somehow grown himself a pair of working hands. Yu Feichen was already familiar with the routine that followed. He took a towel from the brass rack and began drying Anfi’s hair, privately reflecting that if he had served clients at the Pleasure House with this sort of attitude back in the day, he’d have been worth a hundred times the going rate.
“Do you trust me?” he said.
“I would prefer you say less,” Anfi replied.
Yu Feichen: “…”
This felt familiar.
After a brief account of their current circumstances, Anfi was made presentable enough to go out. In the mirror: a silver-haired figure in dark robes, features delicate and impassive, bearing ice-cold, standing on the ornate hand-woven velvet carpet.
Windsor had been right — this style of décor did suit Anfi. At this moment he looked like the young, ambitious sovereign of some decadent kingdom.
Yu Feichen regarded him.
The hot water had temporarily eased his fatigue. Anfi looked functional enough now — nothing to impede movement.
The night had been full of turbulence. By the time they finally descended the hotel staircase, the sunlight outside was blazing and brilliant — nearly noon.
In the lobby, Murphy and Baisong Windsor sat across from each other, a lunch spread on the table between them, untouched.
Baisong’s expression was peculiar. Murphy had the faint shadow of dark circles under his eyes. Only Windsor looked relatively normal, engaged in idle conversation with Murphy.
In some sense, Windsor and Murphy were alike. By nature of their gifts, the world appeared differently to both of them than to others — except that Murphy saw the shape of time, while Windsor saw the essence of things.
Listening to their banter, Baisong had the strange feeling they weren’t here on some perilous venture at all, but on holiday.
And thinking of his brother Yu and Commander Anfi, who had yet to emerge from their rooms, that holiday impression only deepened.
As the minutes ticked by, the state of Murphy the Oracle was deteriorating.
After venting on the black message-board last night, he’d seemed much better this morning.
Perhaps it was only now, in the full light of day, that he’d become fully conscious of what he’d done the night before.
Baisong still had it vividly in mind:
Message after message had flashed across the black board.
**[Vincent]: Why.
**[Vincent]: Why.
**[Vincent]: Why.
**[Vincent]: @City of Mist — I’m here. I hate you.
The tagged Baisong felt a wave of despair.
He was merely an innocent relay for someone else’s messages.
[Vincent]: Let it all burn.
[Vincent]: Let it all burn.
[Vincent]: LET IT ALL BURN!!!!!
But because of the educational goodwill Vincent had built up, the people of the City of Mist all knew him well, and the board immediately flooded with sympathetic replies.
Amid the expressions of concern, another figure surfaced.
[Acri]: Hehehe, who’s made you upset~~~ How rare ~~~
[Acri]: Should I go kill them for you~~
[Vincent]: Mind your own business.
The sarcastic cadence of the exchange drew a collective intake of breath — apparently another one had gone off the deep end in the City of Mist.
Back in the hotel lobby — just as Murphy was steeling himself to go upstairs and knock on the door to ask if something had happened, Yu Feichen and Anfi finally appeared on the staircase.
Meeting Murphy’s gaze, Yu Feichen’s face was expressionless.
How was he supposed to explain to Murphy that Anfi had left the resonance but lost all his memories? The man had woken from a dream with every recollection gone — nothing remaining but a single sentence: I am your master.
So he introduced them: “They are also your subordinates.”
Anfi coolly surveyed the three people below.
“They are not my subordinates,” Anfi said.
Yu Feichen: “?”
“They are my subjects. I am their sovereign. There is a difference.”
“What difference?”
“They are governed by me but possess their freedom. You do not.” Anfi’s expression was impassive.
“If they are subjects,” Yu Feichen said, “then what am I?”
Anfi gave him a strange look. “You are my possession.”
Yu Feichen felt that something had gone distinctly off.
Lunch that followed was equally strange. Windsor and Baisong wore variously odd expressions; Murphy, after looking at Anfi, said nothing more. After a simple meal, Baisong cleared the table on his own initiative, and the group remained seated around it as if convened for some sort of round table council.
Anfi said coolly: “Map.”
Murphy and Windsor each produced the maps they had drawn previously.
The nearest landmark to their street was the site of the circus, which also sat at roughly the center of the surrounding area.
Sunlight poured through the hall. Long, slender fingers traced slowly across the map and came to rest on the circus.
“Before sundown, I want you to occupy this place.”
“Then tell everyone: those being hunted may come here and find sanctuary.”
Not a discussion. A command.
With that settled, it was time to prepare.
Murphy sought out Yu Feichen afterward. Said he had a question.
Yu Feichen expected him to ask: What happened to him?
Murphy asked instead: “Has he recovered?”
In the end, Yu Feichen said nothing at all about Anfi’s condition.
After all, he was merely a possession.