Wushuang's hand tightened around the flask. his fingers curled slowly into a fist.
"They…" he said at last, his voice low and flat. "They are dead."
The humour slipped from Lianju's face at once. "Oh."
He lowered his eyes. So that was it.
Perhaps this strange, bloodied boy had been beaten and abandoned. Was it grief that drove him to the river.
Lianju poked absently at the firewood with a stick before speaking again. "I don't have parents either," he said. "No family."
That made Wushuang look up at him.
Lianju's gaze remained on the flames. "I know what that feels like."
Wushuang looked away again
No, he thought. No, you do not.
No one could know what he felt. No one could understand what it was to lose not only his mother and brother, but his entire name, his place in the world, and whatever remained of the boy he had once been.
Yet the warmth of the fire still brushed against his skin, and the taste of meat and borrowed wine lingered in his mouth.
"Do you want more meat?" Lianju asked after a long silence.
Wushuang shook his head. "No. It tastes awful."
Lianju's eyes widened in outrage. "You... you... " He pointed the stick in his hand at him. "You ungrateful little brat. You said nothing when you were devouring it earlier."
Wushuang gave a small scoff.
Lianju hissed and rolled his eyes . "So this is the thanks I get? You save a kid from drowning, feed him, and in return he insults your cooking." He muttered
At that, the corner of Wushuang's mouth lifted in a faint smile, it was gone in an instant, vanishing before Lianju could turn and catch it.
"I am not a kid." Wushuang said at last. "Stop calling me that."
"Oh?" Lianju looked at him with open amusement. "You are not? Then tell me your name."
"That does not concern you."
"Then 'kid' it is."
Wushuang turned to glare at him. "I am not a kid. Besides, you look the same age as me."
"I am taller," Lianju said.
Wushuang frowned. "I do not think so."
"I am also more mature than you," Lianju added with a smug smile. "So you should call me elder brother."
Wushuang's expression turned cold again. "In your dreams."
Lianju clicked his tongue and shook his head like an old man lamenting the decline of manners in the younger generation. "Children these days…" he murmured with exaggerated disappointment. "tsk tsk tsk"
Wushuang ignored him completely, though the silence between them no longer felt quite as heavy as before.
"You should get some sleep," Lianju said "It's late."
Wushuang did not answer. He merely lay down on his side with his back turned to Lianju, curling into himself as though he wished to shut out not only Lianju beside him, but the entire world.
Lianju watched him for a while, the firelight casting restless shadows across the wushuang's thin frame. He did not know what kind of life this strange, wounded boy had lived, nor what grief had driven him to a river, but whatever it was, it could not have been easy.
With a quiet sigh, Lianju leaned back against the tree behind him and let his eyes drift shut.
Before long, he too fell asleep beside Wushuang.
A sharp jab against his body sent Wushuang awake at once. His eyes flew open just as the tip of a sword prodded into him again. Instinctively, he scrambled to the side, trying to put distance between himself and whoever had found him. But before he could get far, two men lunged forward and seized him, forcing him down.
"Young Master, Young Master… you truly gave us quite a fright with your disappearance."
The cold voice belonged to Hua, one of the servants assigned to attend to him in the Cold Palace.
After Wushuang had escaped the day before, the entire area had been turned upside down searching for him. Though he was a banished and forgotten prince, he was still the Emperor's son. If anything had happened to him, the heads of those responsible would have rolled.
And Hua, judging by the fury written plainly across his face, had no intention of letting Wushuang forget that.
The two men tightened their grip on him, forcing him to his knees with each of his arms pinned down. Wushuang struggled, but there was little strength left in him after the night before.
Hua stepped closer, his expression dark with anger, he drove the hilt of his sword hard into Wushuang's stomach.
Pain exploded through him.
Wushuang doubled over, his breath catching in his throat, but not a single sound escaped him.
Even in that moment, his eyes darted toward the place where Lianju should have been. It was empty. Had he left already? Or had they found him too?
The questions flickered across his mind even as pain twisted through his body.
Hua bent down and grabbed a fistful of Wushuang's hair, forcing his head back. "How dare you run away?" he hissed. "Did you think you could escape? Do you know how much trouble it caused to find you?"
His fingers tightened cruelly. "It seems you have not yet learned your lesson." He released Wushuang only to strike him hard across the face.
The force of it snapped Wushuang's head to the side. Blood filled his mouth at once, and he spat it onto the ground, the sting burning across his cheek.
Slowly, he lifted his eyes to Hua, they were full of hatred. "I did not ask you to come looking for me," he said, his voice hoarse but defiant.
For a moment, Hua seemed taken aback. Then a slow, ugly smile spread across his face.
"So our little Highness still has some spirit left," he said, laughing under his breath. "Interesting."
He straightened and turned to the guards. "Tie him up and take him back to the Cold Palace. He will receive proper punishment there."
At once, the men moved to bind Wushuang, but he fought against them with what little strength he had left. One of the guards, irritated by his resistance, struck him across the face with a hard punch.
The blow dazed him instantly and his body went limp, his strength giving out at last.
One of the men hoisted him over his shoulder like dead weight, and together they began the journey back, with Hua following behind them in satisfied silence.
Not far away, hidden among the trees, Lianju watched everything unfold. He had risen earlier than Wushuang to fetch water from the river and perhaps catch another rabbit for breakfast. But on his way back, the sound of shouting had stopped him in his tracks. Hidden behind the trees, he had seen the entire scene unfold with growing alarm.
He had heard the conversations and the evil looking man address Wushuang as Highness.
A noble? Was that strange, bloodied boy someone of rank?
But that question no longer mattered.
What mattered was the way they had beaten him, the way they had dragged him off as though he were no more than a criminal beast. Lianju's expression hardened.
Those men were trouble. Bad trouble.
The moment he made up his mind, he quietly lowered the water flask in his hand setting it aside. Then, keeping low and careful not to make a sound, he slipped through the trees and followed after them from a distance, making sure not to be seen.