Chapter Seven: The Crown Prince Saves the Emperor and Swears Brotherhood

Autumn rain fell like needles, piercing through the thin prison garments that clung to Lin Xia’s body. He huddled in the corner of his cell, the sharp clatter of iron chains against the stone wall echoing through the empty dungeon. The damp stench of mold mingled with the metallic tang of blood, filling his nostrils. This was the third full moon night since his imprisonment. The old wound on his left wrist throbbed anew—a scar torn open three years ago in the northern desert, when he had saved the Crown Prince Li Chengyu from a wolf while hunting.

“Lin Xia, come out.”

The heavy iron door groaned open. The jailer’s face, shadowed by the torchlight, was as sinister as blood-soaked liver. Lin Xia rose, steadying himself against the wall. The iron chains bit into the scabs at his ankles, splitting them again, and the warm trickle of blood slid down into his straw sandals.

He knew all too well what this meant. Ever since Minister Zhang Qinian of the Ministry of Personnel had been poisoned in his private chamber, and the jade pendant inscribed with the character “Lin” was discovered at the scene, these so-called “interrogations” had become routine.

Within the torture chamber, the branding iron glowed red-hot. The air reeked of burning flesh. The presiding judge was Wang Xian, Vice Minister of the Court of Judicial Review, once a student under Zhang Qinian. He sat idly toying with a bronze wine goblet, his eyes scrutinizing Lin Xia like a butcher gauging his next slaughter.

“Officer Lin,” Wang Xian began, his tone slow and mocking, tracing circles around the rim of the goblet, “the late Minister Zhang was found clutching your jade pendant.”

Lin Xia straightened his back, chains rattling. “I had no dealings with Minister Zhang. That pendant was lost half a year ago.”

“Oh?” Wang Xian raised his brows and flung a scroll onto the table. “Then what of this letter, conspiring with the enemy?”

The rice paper glowed yellow and eerie in the torchlight, its handwriting almost identical to Lin Xia’s. His pupils contracted—the letter detailed how he had sold the frontier defense plans to the Northern Barbarians, complete with his signature.

“Forgery! This is a forgery!” Lin Xia lunged forward, the chains snapping taut and biting into his collarbone. “My lord, see reason—such tricks are the staple of Northern spies!”

Wang Xian sneered, tossing the letter to the ground. “With both witness and evidence at hand, you still dare deny it? Minister Zhang held proof of your treason; you silenced him for it, did you not?”

The branding iron, whistling through the air, came crashing toward his face. Lin Xia instinctively turned his head; the molten metal grazed his ear, and the sound of searing flesh sizzled in his ears. The agony was blinding, but he clenched his teeth, uttering not a single cry.

He caught a fleeting flicker of surprise in Wang Xian’s eyes, quickly replaced by malice. “So, Officer Lin, you still refuse to confess. No matter. We have ways to loosen your tongue.”

A whip lashed across his back like a venomous snake, tearing his cotton shirt to rags. Lin Xia collapsed to his knees, his forehead pressed against the icy flagstones, pain blurring the edges of his consciousness. In his delirium, he was back on the northern grasslands: the young Li Chengyu was tossing him a jug of fiery liquor, laughing, “Lin Xia, when I ascend the throne, you shall be Grand General of the Realm.”

Back then, the wind was hot, the wine was strong, and a youth’s promises shone brighter than the stars.

When he next awoke, Lin Xia found himself thrown into the death cell.

It was even darker and damper here, rank with decaying straw and crawling with white maggots. From the neighboring cell, the prisoner’s silence bespoke his death; his body lay sprawled, reeking, in the gloom.

Lin Xia licked his parched lips, tasting only the rust of blood. The wound on his ear had festered, each movement sending fresh agony through his nerves. Worse still, a chill was creeping upward from his feet—the telltale sign of poison.

They never intended for him to survive to confess.

As consciousness faded, Lin Xia gazed up at the single vent in the ceiling. The autumn rain still fell; moonlight sometimes broke through the clouds, casting mottled shadows on the floor. He remembered Li Chengyu once said that moonlight was the fairest thing in all creation: prince or pauper, all could bathe in its glow.

Yet why, tonight, could this moonlight not penetrate the darkness of his cell?

Chapter Two: The Dragon’s Shadow

He did not know how much time had passed before urgent footsteps roused him.

He forced open his swollen eyes. Through the haze, he saw a squad of guards in black brocade robes at the cell door, the silver fish-shaped tokens at their waists glinting in the torchlight. Their leader stood with his back to Lin Xia, long black hair bound with a jade coronet, his figure upright as a pine.

“Have you verified everything?” The voice was cold, brooking no dissent. Even through the bars, it struck awe.

“My lord,” came Wang Xian’s obsequious tone, so different from yesterday’s savagery, “we have conclusive evidence—witnesses and proof both. Lin Xia’s treason and murder are unforgivable.”

“Oh?” The man turned, and the torchlight traced his sharply defined features—sword-like brows, phoenix eyes, a straight nose. It was none other than the Crown Prince, Li Chengyu.

Three years had wrought great change; the callowness of youth was gone, replaced by the quiet gravity of a ruler.

Lin Xia’s heart clenched. He tried to bow his head, but Li Chengyu’s gaze held him fast. Those deep eyes swept over his wounds, the bleeding shackles at his ankles, the festering gash on his ear.

“Vice Minister Wang,” Li Chengyu’s tone was unreadable, “as I recall, Lin Xia was appointed as a Commandant by imperial decree. When did he become a common prisoner?”

Sweat broke out on Wang Xian’s brow. “Your Highness, you are unaware—this case concerns treason of the highest order—”

“Treason enough to warrant beating a court officer to this state without a proper trial?” Li Chengyu cut him off, stepping to the cell door. “Lin Xia, raise your head.”

Lin Xia gritted his teeth and pushed himself upright, the taste of blood thick in his throat. He looked upon that face—familiar yet changed—and croaked, “Your Highness…”

Li Chengyu’s fingers tapped the iron bars, his gaze ablaze. “Wang Xian, bring me the case file for Zhang Qinian’s death. Now.”

Wang Xian hesitated, face troubled. “It’s been sealed, Your Highness. Only an imperial order—”

“Is my word not enough?” Li Chengyu’s eyes turned icy, the very air in the torture chamber growing chill.

Wang Xian blanched, collapsing to his knees with a thud. “I—I’ll fetch it at once!”

Once Wang Xian had hurried off, Li Chengyu waved the guards away until only the two of them remained. The soft drag of chains was especially clear in the silence.

“Does it hurt?” Li Chengyu’s voice softened as he reached to touch Lin Xia’s wound, but the bars were in the way.

Lin Xia turned aside, his eyes stinging. “Your Highness, I am… unharmed.”

“Unharmed?” Li Chengyu gave a bitter laugh. “You’ve always been like this. Even as a child, you’d break a bone and never admit the pain.”

He pulled a small jar of ointment from his sleeve, passing it carefully through the bars. “Apply this. I’ll get to the truth.”

Lin Xia accepted the cool jar—it was a salve specially crafted by the Imperial Hospital, unavailable to ordinary men. His fingers trembled as he murmured, “Thank you, Your Highness.”

“Lin Xia,” Li Chengyu suddenly said, his gaze burning, “three years ago in the northern desert, you swore you would trust me always. Do you still believe I can clear your name?”

Lin Xia looked up sharply, meeting those clear, resolute eyes. Warmth surged through him, dispelling the chill of the cell. He nodded forcefully, his voice rough with emotion. “I believe.”

Li Chengyu smiled, a smile like the thawing of ice and snow, instantly brightening the gloom of the torture chamber. “Good.”

A single word, yet more powerful than a thousand promises.

Just then, a commotion arose outside. Zhao Hu, Li Chengyu’s personal guard, rushed in, his expression grave. “Your Highness, an envoy from the palace—Her Ladyship the Noble Consort summons you to the Eastern Palace at once.”

A barely perceptible crease formed between Li Chengyu’s brows. He understood: this was the handiwork of his second uncle, Prince Jing, Li Chengze. Zhang Qinian had been one of Prince Jing’s confidants. Now dead, they needed a scapegoat—and Lin Xia, his most capable officer, was the ideal target.

“Tell them I will return to the palace after my official business is done,” Li Chengyu replied coolly.

Zhao Hu hesitated. “Your Highness, they insist her ladyship is unwell. His Majesty has ordered you to attend her immediately.”

Li Chengyu’s gaze darkened. His father’s health had been failing, and Prince Jing now dominated the court; even the Noble Consort grew ever more brazen. This was a transparent ploy to draw him away.

He glanced at Lin Xia, who sat with eyes closed, as if indifferent to all that passed. But Li Chengyu noticed his fists clenched so tightly the knuckles were white.

“Zhao Hu,” Li Chengyu’s voice was calm again, “transfer Lin Xia to the Heaven Cell. Assign trusted guards—no one is to approach him.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

“And summon Judge Li from the Imperial Hospital to tend to Lin Xia personally.”

Zhao Hu bowed and departed, and a hush fell once more. Li Chengyu gazed at Lin Xia and murmured, “Wait for me.”

Lin Xia did not open his eyes, but simply replied, “Mm.”

As footsteps faded and the door locked once more, Lin Xia opened his eyes and looked at the jar of ointment. A faint smile touched his lips.

He knew his prince would never abandon him.

Chapter Three: Under Currents

Eastern Palace, Hall of Fragrant Serenity.

Li Chengyu sat upright on a rosewood chair, listening as the imperial physician took the Noble Consort’s pulse. The chamber was thick with the fragrance of dragon musk, but it could not mask the subtle tension in the air.

“Her Ladyship is merely troubled and has poor circulation. Some calming tonics will suffice,” the physician reported respectfully.

The Noble Consort frowned, her voice tinged with dissatisfaction. “My chest aches terribly—how can it be mere melancholy?”

Li Chengyu replied blandly, “If the physician says it is nothing, please rest assured and recover, madam. His Majesty is waiting for my report—I must take my leave.”

“Stop!” The Noble Consort’s voice cut sharply. “Does the Crown Prince have no regard for his elders? I am unwell, and you would brush me aside so lightly!”

Li Chengyu turned, his gaze impassive. “I mean no disrespect, madam, but His Majesty’s health is paramount. If you are truly unwell, I shall summon every physician in the palace to examine you.”

The Noble Consort’s face went pale. She had only feigned illness to detain him; she dared not call the entire Imperial Hospital.

“That won’t be necessary,” she forced out, swallowing her anger. “I shall rest. But I hear you visited the Court of Judicial Review today and moved Lin Xia, the traitor, to another cell?”

“I did,” Li Chengyu replied openly. “Lin Xia once served under me. I trust his character and believe there is more to this case—I must investigate thoroughly.”

“How naive you are,” the Noble Consort scoffed. “With evidence and witnesses, what is left to investigate? Mark my words—this Lin Xia is wolf-hearted and may even implicate you.”

Li Chengyu’s gaze cooled. “You need not worry, madam. Lin Xia is loyal—I trust him.”

“Trust?” The Noble Consort stood, lowering her voice as she moved closer. “Have you forgotten? Lin Xia’s father, Lin Xiao, was executed for treason! Like father, like son—what good can come of him?”

The words stabbed at Li Chengyu like a needle.

Lin Xiao had been Grand General of the Realm, condemned twelve years ago for treason, his entire clan executed. Only the young Lin Xia had been secretly saved by Li Chengyu and sent to live under the care of a loyal servant. It was Lin Xia’s deepest wound, and the injustice Li Chengyu most wished to redress.

“Careful what you say, madam,” Li Chengyu’s voice was icy. “History will judge General Lin’s loyalty. As for Lin Xia, I personally recommended him to the court. If he is guilty, I alone will bear the blame.”

The Noble Consort recoiled from the frost in his eyes, but soon straightened. “Why take such risks for the child of a traitor? If this matter reaches His Majesty, it will not bode well for you.”

Li Chengyu said nothing more. He turned and left. “I take my leave.”

As his resolute figure disappeared, the Noble Consort shook with rage. She snapped at her maid, “Go, tell Prince Jing—the Crown Prince’s protection of Lin Xia will spoil our plans!”

The maid hurried off. Alone now, the Noble Consort stared after Li Chengyu, her eyes filled with venom.

Li Chengyu, you are as much a thorn in my side as your wretched mother!

Leaving the Hall of Fragrant Serenity, Li Chengyu did not go to his father’s chambers but returned instead to his study, the Hall of Enlightened Virtue.

Zhao Hu was already waiting. At Li Chengyu’s entrance, he stepped forward to report, “Your Highness, Wang Xian has delivered the case file for Zhang Qinian’s death as you ordered.”

“Good. Leave it on the table. How is Lin Xia?” Li Chengyu asked.

“Judge Li has attended to him. Officer Lin’s injuries were severe, and he was poisoned, but the treatment was timely—the crisis is past. I have assigned trusted men to the Heaven Cell; no one can get near.”

“Good,” Li Chengyu exhaled. “Now, investigate Lin Xia’s whereabouts on the night of Zhang Qinian’s death. Who can vouch for him?”

“At once, Your Highness.”

When Zhao Hu had gone, Li Chengyu picked up the case file and began to read.

The evidence was damning: the jade pendant, the treasonous letter, witnesses who claimed to have seen Lin Xia near Zhang Qinian’s residence. Everything pointed to Lin Xia, as if he were the only possible culprit.

But Li Chengyu knew this was precisely the flaw. Lin Xia was always meticulous—if he truly meant to kill, how could he leave so many traces behind?

He reached the autopsy report: Zhang Qinian had died from “Qianji Yin,” a fast-acting, colorless, and tasteless poison, impossible for ordinary people to obtain.

Whoever could acquire such a poison and orchestrate this so flawlessly was no ordinary adversary.

Li Chengyu set the file aside and massaged his brow. He sensed that Zhang Qinian’s death involved more than just a plot to frame Lin Xia.

Just then, hurried footsteps sounded outside.

“Your Highness, something terrible has happened!” Zhao Hu burst in, panic in his voice. “Officer Lin—he has attempted suicide in his cell!”

Li Chengyu shot to his feet, his face ashen. “What?!”

Chapter Four: A Brush With Death

By the time Li Chengyu reached the Heaven Cell, it was surrounded by guards. He shoved them aside and rushed in.

Lin Xia lay on the cold ground, a deep gash laid bare the bone of his wrist, the straw beneath him soaked with blood. His face was ghostly pale, breath faint and shallow—he was slipping away before their eyes.

“Lin Xia!” Li Chengyu knelt and gathered him into his arms, his voice trembling with anguish, “Wake up! You must not sleep!”

Lin Xia’s eyelids fluttered open. He saw Li Chengyu’s anxious face and managed a weak smile. “Your Highness… I am all right…”

“All right?!” Li Chengyu roared, his eyes reddening. “Who allowed you to do something so foolish?!”

“I…” Lin Xia tried to speak but coughed blood instead.

“Fetch the imperial physician!” Li Chengyu shouted.

Judge Li soon arrived with his apprentice, visibly shocked by the scene. He hurried to treat Lin Xia.

“How is he?” Li Chengyu demanded.

Judge Li felt the pulse, examined the wound, and frowned deeply. “Your Highness, Officer Lin has lost too much blood and was poisoned over time. He was already weak—now, his chances are slim.”

“I don’t care!” Li Chengyu gripped the physician’s arm. “You must save him! If he dies, I’ll see your hospital in ruins!”

“Please, Your Highness, calm yourself,” Judge Li replied hastily. “I will do all I can—but whether he survives depends on his will to live.”

He set to work, using golden needles to staunch the bleeding and antidotes to counter the poison.

Li Chengyu stayed at his side, clutching Lin Xia’s icy hand. He looked at that bloodless face, his heart heavy with guilt and rage.

It was his own inadequacy; he had failed to protect Lin Xia, leaving him to suffer so.

Time slipped by. At last, Judge Li breathed a sigh of relief. “Your Highness, the bleeding has stopped, and the poison is suppressed for now. But Officer Lin is gravely weakened and will need careful nursing.”

Li Chengyu finally relaxed, nodding. “Thank you, Judge Li. See that he receives the best care.”

“Your servant obeys.”

After the physician departed, Li Chengyu ordered Lin Xia moved to a temporary residence near the cell, closely guarded.

He sat at the bedside, watching over Lin Xia’s slumber, doubts swirling in his mind.

Lin Xia was not one to give up easily. Why would he attempt suicide?

Could someone be manipulating events behind the scenes?

Just then, Zhao Hu slipped in quietly. “Your Highness, I have found some leads.”

“Speak,” Li Chengyu said without looking up.

“I investigated the moments before Officer Lin’s attempt and found a suspicious jailer. On questioning, he confessed—someone paid him a hundred taels of silver to drug Officer Lin’s food and sneak a dagger into his cell.”

“Who gave the order?” Li Chengyu’s voice was glacial.

“He said… it was Zhao Dehai, a trusted retainer of Prince Jing.”