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Zhao Yuanzhou collapsed as if in slow motion, eyes rolling back as he fell forward. He was graceful even now, with dark blood dripping from his mouth and his own inner core floating in front of him in an ominous red cloud.
"Zhao Yuanzhou!"
Zhuo Yichen had stood and watched, paralyzed with horror, as he ripped it out of his body. Now, he and Wen Xiao cried out in unison, both of them leaping forward—but Zhuo Yichen was the faster one, managing to catch him just before he hit the ground. The impact sent him to his knees; he ignored the dull pain, flipping Zhao Yuanzhou over, frantic and filled with dread.
No no no no no. They had more time. Even if the future he'd seen was true, they were supposed to have more time.
Zhao Yuanzhou's eyes were closed, body eerily still as his head rested on Zhuo Yichen's lap. Zhuo Yichen was already gathering spiritual power, hand held out. But of course, there would be nowhere for it to go without Zhao Yuanzhou's core—without his...
"Put it back," he said to Wen Xiao, hand pressed to Zhao Yuanzhou's chest. "Quickly!"
She'd plucked the tiny red orb that now contained all of Zhao Yuanzhou's life force out of the air, and was now cradling it in the palm of her hands. Such a deceptively innocuous thing. Too harmless looking to be so powerful. Or so precious.
But instead of rushing to him, she stood still, eyes wide and mournful.
"Wen Xiao!" he snapped, and started feeding Zhao Yuanzhou power anyway. Maybe if he could keep the energy circling through his meridians just long enough, even if there was nowhere for it to go—
But there was.
Zhuo Yichen looked down in shock and found Zhao Yuanzhou's eyes open. When they met his, his mouth lifted in that infuriating half-smile of his. And then he winked.
Zhuo Yichen stared. "You—"
Quick as lightning, Wen Xiao was kneeling before him, hand pressed firmly to his mouth.
"Zhuo Yichen," she said. "This was Zhao Yuanzhou's choice."
Zhuo Yichen's flinched back, struck to the quick with this betrayal. If he couldn't trust Wen Xiao, of all people, to never to give up on saving Zhao Yuanzhou... no, it didn't make sense. He opened his mouth to protest, but she just shook her head.
"We must not let his sacrifice be in vain," she said with a peculiar emphasis, meeting his eyes intently.
Zhuo Yichen looked down at Zhao Yuanzhou's chest, where the energy he'd been feeding him was most definitely being absorbed into an intact core. Then up at Ying Lei and Pei Sijing, hovering close by with serious faces directed at him and not Zhao Yuanzhou. And he finally understood.
Wen Xiao held his eyes until he nodded at her, swallowing hard. Zhao Yuanzhou was okay. The others had been putting on a play of sorts, because someone or something was watching. She nodded back, rising gracefully to her feet. "Wait here with him," she said with just a hint of apology in her gentle voice. "I won't be long."
Zhao Yuanzhou's eyes were still open, so whatever was watching must not be able to see from this angle. But they could surely hear, so Zhuo Yichen bit back all the bitter words rising in his throat as his fearful panic began fading into embarrassed chagrin.
"Zhuo-daren—" Ying Lei said tentatively, taking a step toward him.
"Don't talk to me right now," Zhuo Yichen warned him, face hot. "I don't want to hear your voice." At least he was able to speak this truth without giving anything away.
Behind him Pei Sijing was looking away, clearly uncomfortable. She tugged at Ying Lei's sleeve. "Let's go. Give him some space."
When they had retreated to the far side of the cavern, he closed his eyes and drew in a long shuddering breath. He felt cracked wide open, foolish heart completely on display. All the others had known; they'd all played their parts perfectly, while he alone bared his true feelings.
Play or not, he wouldn't be able to forget the mountain god's accusing words any time soon.
Don't you want to save Jiu?
And he did, of course he did. But in the moment, when the choice lay before him, stark and clear? He hadn't chosen Jiu. Sweet and innocent Jiu, who idolized Zhuo Yichen. Who had a mother to be reunited with, and his whole life ahead of him.
No.
He'd chosen Zhao Yuanzhou. Who'd murdered his family. Who'd lived thousands of lifetimes and more. Zhao Yuanzhou, mysterious and deadly, kind and gentle-hearted, funny and self-sacrificing. Who loved the world and was willing to leave it forever, just to keep it safe.
Zhao Yuanzhou, who understood Zhuo Yichen completely.
Zhuo Yichen had stopped the flow of energy, but his hand was still resting on his chest, feeling the reassuring rise and fall. Now, Zhao Yuanzhou covered it with one of his own.
At the gentle touch, Zhuo Yichen opened his eyes. Zhao Yuanzhou was watching him with those calm and ancient eyes, and he felt his cheeks flush once more. But he couldn't look away again—those eyes had him pinned as neatly as a sword through the chest.
Zhao Yuanzhou smiled. His thumb had began stroking the top of Zhuo Yichen's hand, hypnotic and soothing. Zhuo Yichen wanted to pull away—wanted not to crave the childish comfort. It would serve Zhao Yuanzhou right to have to lay frozen with his head on the cold, hard stone until Wen Xiao's return.
He didn't move.
The spell that had allowed them to hear the previous meeting with Princess Longyu was still in effect, which meant they all knew it the moment Wen Xiao obtained the dragon scale. Zhuo Yichen shuddered with another kind of relief: the Cloud Light Sword could be repaired. Bai Jiu could be saved.
There would be no need for a sacrifice today.
"There now," Zhao Yuanzhou said, the danger apparently now past. "No harm done." His voice was humiliatingly kind.
"Shut up," Zhuo Yichen told him, not caring how petulant he sounded. "I don't want to hear from you either."
Zhao Yuanzhou serenely ignored him. "Xiao Zhuo was very fierce just now," he murmured. "This great demon was very moved by his sincerity."
Zhuo Yichen scowled down at him. "The next time you pull a stunt like that—" he cut the words off, memories of the vision Ying Long had shown him appearing in his mind, unbidden. "You can fall flat on your face for all I care," he finished weakly, painfully aware how unconvincing any such threat could be after his earlier display.
Zhao Yuanzhou pressed his lips together all the same, making the face he always made when he was pretending to be cowed. His thumb was still stroking lazy circles on Zhuo Yichen's hand. Zhuo Yichen did not find it endearing in the least.
He really should push his head onto the ground. There was no reason to sit here like statues now that they had obtained their goal. The others would surely be back soon, and then they would move onto the next obstacle, and the next after that—until there was nothing left but the final, terrible future he feared he couldn't escape.
Still, neither of them moved.
One day, he'd be holding Zhao Yuanzhou like this, and there would be no trick or last second reprieve. One day, he would fall with Zhuo Yichen's sword through the chest he was clutching so tightly right now. One day, his eyes would not open, even if Zhuo Yichen caught him. No matter how much energy he fed him.
One day.
But not today.