CW: suicide, graphic violence, toxic relationships.
美風 (Méifōng)—the fair wind
The skies are a pitch-black void—cold, empty, unforgiving. Far from home, the rivers of heaven have run dry, the starlight scarce in this part of Father’s empire. Passing comets die out with a pathetic fizzle, and the migrating flocks of magpies care not to bridge the gap between star-crossed lovers. Spring may never arrive in the Cosmos, but here in its dark depths, the jagged hills of Tianliao Moon World stand nigh immutable.
Flying in from the void, my hunting party descends upon cosmic rock. Our numbers are small, only four hunters with three attendants in tow. The dragonhorses’ bulging eyes flit back and forth. Their wisping manes are red like flames. I toss the reins and dismount from my own dragonhorse, hunting bow at the ready. My quiver is well-stocked with arrows and paper talismans. The others take longer to get on their feet—Jin Song fussing with his garish coat and Wenzi nagging at the servants—and I simply cannot be bothered to wait.
The dirt path leads up to a tall gateway formed from red brick and topped with glazed tiles and painted eaves. Stone lions stand guard on either side, fangs bared in warning. I hear footsteps catching up to me from behind, and my nose tickles with the familiar scent of plum blossoms.
“You shouldn’t have invited them,” I mutter lowly.
Meilin grins sheepishly. She stands half a head taller than me, her body packed with more fat and muscle than mine. “Forgive me, Princess. I just thought some company might be good for you.”
“They’re distractions. Look how they’re slowing us down already.” I turn my voice even lower, wary of any listening ear behind us. “Don’t you dare forget what we came here for, Yang Meilin.”
“Of course, Princess.” Meilin says it with a slight cadence to her tone, almost a sing-song.
Up ahead, a chilling silence greets us across rough terrain, sparse fields and crumbling soil. Soft, ghostly light emanates from the tall rocks, rainbow hues painting their cliffsides. Angel birds fall from black skies, arrows through their breasts, and the servants rush off to fetch the hunted game.
Meilin holds a bronze scope to her eye, scanning the steep slopes and hidden crevices.
“Do you see anything?”
“Not yet, Princess.”
I yank the scope from her hands and peer through the lens myself.
“The place is completely deserted,” Meilin says. “But we haven’t been walking for long—I am certain we will find something soon.” She gives a reassuring smile, which does nothing to quell my growing anxiety. I throw the scope back into her face. She deftly catches it with one hand.
“Stay alert. We’re not stopping until I say so.”
“Yes, Princess!” Meilin answers cheerfully. We proceed quickly on the winding path, footsteps light on wooden planks. We see more of the same barren landscape, but what I need is a sign. Out in the Cosmos, the realm of Chaos rules over all. Here, the laws of nature do not abide in the ways known to man. And that which does not belong points only to the greatest treasure of all.
I don’t notice our company again until we’ve circled the perimeter. I spot the long tails of Jin Song’s shimmering coat. As always, he speaks in that overly loud voice, calling me a coward and an addict, and how ten years spent as a shut-in must have rotted my spirit as much as it has dulled my skill. His tongue knows no limits.
So I take my bow and arrow. I aim straight at Jin Song’s back. Standing still, he makes the perfect target, with his large frame and colorful dress. But before I can release my grip, Meilin calls excitedly from the side.
“I see something! Over there!”
Scope in hand, she points to the base of a hill nearby. I forget my target and rush over to the spot, Meilin following close behind. There, we find an array of items and furniture set up in a neat line. A cauldron with no opening. Guzheng without strings. Joss sticks submerged in a basin of water, and a sedan chair covered in rusted nails. As we walk further down the line, more items appear from thin air. Cracked porcelain. Bent swords. Human hair.
“Good lords. What could all this mean?” Meilin asks beside me.
“A sign. The treasure must be close.” I pick out a magic mirror smudged in ink. Useless thing.
“But we passed here earlier,” Meilin says. “There was nothing of this sort.” She gestures over the peculiar spread, and I smash hard metal against her cheek.
“I kept telling you to stay alert.”
Meilin drops to one knee, blood trickling from the corner of her lip.
“My deepest apologies, Princess. Please forgive my oversight.”
I toss the mirror aside. The hills behind me have changed colors, flickering to darker greens and purples.
“If you keep making mistakes, I’ll shove this bow down your throat. Mark my words.”
Slowly, Meilin lifts her head. I take my handkerchief and hold it gently to her face. I feel her breath shaking against my wrist. When I turn my sights back to the line, the items have all disappeared. Instead, a single plate of rice cakes sits before us. Two bite-sized pieces—one coated in gold dust, the other in black soot.
The treasure calls to me.
“Which one shall you pick, Princess?”
“Which one, indeed.”
My hand reaches, and the black skies above engulf us all.
• • • •
When the light reappears a split second later, red brick walls have surrounded us on either side, spreading far out in a huge maze, while shadows swathe the floor and ceiling. We know not how we’ve come to this place, but the realm of Chaos rules here, still. The floor shakes. We hear multiple people screaming through layers of brick, loud and desperate. Then a crash.
A monstrous cry echoes from the distance.
“Run,” I say.
Wielding long chains and metal claws, Meilin takes the front for me. I keep a loose grip on my bow and arrow, prepared to stop and shoot at any moment. Every step feels like falling into a dark, endless chasm. The path leads us through countless turns—left, right, left, and left again until we pass the first casualty. A servant has been smashed beyond recognition, and blood splattered in a messy pool. Another turn. Another corpse, then another. Then we reach a dead end and find a still-living body—the scholar, Wenzi.
“Wake up, Jin Song! Wake up! Open your eyes!” Wenzi begs his partner.
“He’s dead,” Meilin says, peering over the red splatter that used to be Jin Song. “You must run, Wenzi, or you’ll be crushed too.”
“No.” I catch sight of his torn arm bleeding freely from the elbow. “He’ll die of blood loss before that happens.”
“You—you wretched woman!” Wenzi springs up to grab me. “Tianliao is supposed to be safe grounds! Why is this happening? What have you done?”
“Oh, dear.” I click my tongue, feigning pity.
Wenzi chokes. He is losing strength in his remaining hand, and I don’t even need to shrug him off. The floor rumbles again. Meilin takes on a battle stance. The pair of claws hangs from her chain, glistening with razor edges.
“Oh, never you mind, Wenzi. The affair does not concern you,” I say, slapping a paper talisman to his back. “Besides, Meilin and I came prepared to handle things. You just sit back and relax. I’ll have you join that bumbling partner of yours very soon.”
Wenzi pales, then swells with futile rage. His face reminds me so much of a grotesque puppet show, I can’t help but laugh.
The brick wall shatters behind us. A monster emerges from the dust, tall and humanoid, with spidery limbs and snow-white fur. Its eyes glow red and angry. Its long ears sag on top of its head. Standing on hind legs, the yao wields a giant mallet covered in viscera. The yao’s name is Yutu—rogue servant of heaven and bearer of my coveted treasure, the Immortal Herb.
At once, I kick Wenzi into the yao’s path. The talisman on his back activates an exploding spell, bloody chunks flying out in flames. Yutu screeches madly. Blinded only momentarily, the yao swings its mallet in wild strokes.
“Stand back, Princess!”
Meilin makes her charge, dodging the mallet with ease. She spins her chains. Flying claws latch onto Yutu’s fur and rip into flesh. The mallet swings again, nearly swiping Meilin’s face. All the while, I set myself up at a safer distance, bow and arrow aimed straight ahead. The yao moves erratically, head jerking side to side as Meilin strains to pin it down. I wait another second, pull, and release.
The arrow cuts through air and pierces Yutu’s skull, right through the eye socket.
Tied to that same arrow, a paper talisman lights up in another glorious explosion.
Yutu falls, and the brick maze crumbles into the void.
• • • •
The glowing rock of Tianliao greets us once more.
“You did it, Princess! You won! Oh, my word! That shot was marvelous! Such astounding skill!”
Meilin runs with arms stretched wide. I collapse to my knees before she can reach me.
“No. No, no, no, no! My treasure—we left it behind!” At the dawning realization, I grab my own hair, pulling in agony. “We need to get back. Find another way into Yutu’s dimension, hurry!”
“Wait, Princess, look—”
I hear the rattle of chains, razor claws scraping together. Meilin holds one claw up before me. Caught between the blades is a raggedy patch of Yutu’s skin—along with a thin, dried stalk. Wrinkled leaves. Browning stems.
“The Immortal Herb!” I cry out in relief, cradling both the treasure and all the gore in my hands. “I can’t believe it!”
“The Emperor will be so impressed! Now the throne will surely become yours, Princess!” Meilin beams at me, her usual look of pure adoration. And for the first time in our lives, I smile back, overcome with joy.
“Thank you, Meilin.”
Her mouth falls in alarm.
“Princess, you’re bleeding!”
“Huh?”
A warmth spreads near my hip, soaking through my coat.
What? When did this happen?
Ah. Perhaps the initial blast with Wenzi. The debris must have scratched me. Clumsy. But no matter—with the treasure secured, the fire burns quickly out of me. My vision blurs, and my consciousness falls deep into darkness.
• • • •
I dream of the latticed screens and polished wood of the Imperial Study.
The Emperor writes on his low desk, facing the bright and sunny terrace, while I sit far behind him, wrapped by cool shadows.
“State your matter, Girl.”
My head bows low.
“I seek guidance, Your Majesty. I wish to inherit the throne.”
The Emperor flips a page of his book. “As the thirtieth princess, what makes you think you even deserve consideration?”
“The birth order matters not when it comes to measuring our worth, Your Majesty. You’ve said so yourself, in the past.”
“Did I, now.”
“Yes. You did, Your Majesty.”
“But an addict is no better than scum.”
My jaw clenches. “It was only the one time,” I say. “My older siblings—they tricked me into taking the opiates.”
“You are a poor liar, Girl.” The Emperor scoffs.
“I speak no lies, Your Majesty. They all know I’m better than them in every way,” I say, staring straight at the floor as my fingers scratch lines into wood. “It’s why they’ve used underhanded tactics to bring me down for years. But they’ll never succeed. I’m different from those failures. Unlike them, I’m willing to do whatever it takes. I’ll do anything to prove it, Father, that I alone am the worthy successor—”
A snap of fingers, and a polearm smacks me face-first to the floor. The Emperor’s elite guard. Robbed entirely of their will, they are literal puppets of the throne. No wonder Meilin changed her mind about joining.
“I am Supreme Ruler of the Heavens,” the Emperor says. “You will not be so impudent as to address me in such a frivolous manner.”
My ribs hurt. I struggle to breathe, spitting blood with my next words. “Please, Your Majesty. Tell me, what can I do to gain your favor?”
And my tenacity must impress the Emperor, because he tells me.
He tells me exactly what to do. How a useless addict like me can still win the throne. He points to a celestial chart and gives me this one chance—my first and last. He tells me not to waste this opportunity, and to ensure that I succeed no matter the cost.
“Will you look at me, then?” I ask, trembling on the ground with tears in my eyes. “Once I obtain the Immortal Herb—will you finally look at me?”
The Emperor pauses for a moment. Still pinned down, I drag my sights higher. The sunlight is too bright where the Emperor sits; my squinting eyes can barely make out the line of his shoulders, shaking ever so slightly. I don’t see his face, but I hear his soundless laughter, mocking my very existence.
The dream ends there.
• • • •
I jolt awake on a makeshift cot. The smell of burning wood wafts across the air, and a bitter taste lingers at the back of my throat.
“How are you feeling, Princess?” Meilin sits by my side, smiling gently as always. She is without her coat, which she had used to cover the patch of grass I laid on. “You lost a fair amount of blood, but luckily your vitals weren’t hit,” she says.
I sit up straight. A stinging pain flares from my bandaged waist.
“Where is my treasure?”
“Safe, right here.” Meilin rests her fingers over my chest. I tug at the folds of my robe and find the Immortal Herb, tucked within a small cloth. “I knew you’d want to keep it close.”
“Good,” I say. “Good.”
The pain isn’t so bad anymore. Meilin helps me retie my robes. She has warm hands, and a light touch. The swelling on her cheek has subsided, though a purple mark remains from when I’d smashed that mirror into her face.
“I’m sorry.”
“For what? You’ve done no wrong, Princess.”
“I’ve hurt you, countless times.”
“And I treasure every second of it,” Meilin says in a daze, cupping the spot on her cheek.
“You liar.”
“I speak only the truth, Princess. I swear on my life.”
The campfire flickers beside us. How can she say all that? I don’t understand. I don’t understand her a single bit. No matter what I do, or how harshly I’ve treated her.
Why?
“Do you feel that, Princess?”
I nod slowly, skin prickling with dread.
“The ground is shaking.”
Quickly, we both take up arms and stand with our backs to each other, prepared for an ambush. But Tianliao is deserted. The hills are lonely, and the fields empty.
“I don’t see anything, Princess.”
“Neither do I.”
“Perhaps it was nothing, after all.”
But then we hear that deafening screech—Yutu descending from cosmic skies, its mallet forcing us to leap out of the way. A crater forms where we once stood, and Yutu stares at me with its one remaining eye, the right side of its skull blown completely off.
“Run, Princess!”
Meilin rushes in to face Yutu alone. She sends her claws flying, but Yutu moves faster this time. Wilder, possessed. It catches one claw in its mouth, biting down even as the blades shred its tongue. Meilin struggles to dodge the mallet; with every swing, it comes closer and closer to crushing her.
I scramble into position. In the heat of the moment, the pain from my injury is forgotten. I send arrows flying one after another, hitting Yutu’s chest, rump, shoulder, gut.
When Meilin is out of range, I use an exploding arrow. It lands on Yutu’s arm. The mallet falls to the ground.
We run.
We don’t make it far.
“Watch out!”
Meilin pushes me aside.
I hit the ground and watch as a thick log, tapered on one end, slams into Meilin’s side from nowhere.
“No!”
Scrambling on my knees, I hold Meilin in my arms. Her body is mangled from the waist down—spine crooked, ribs protruding from skin. Blood spurting everywhere. The light fades from her eyes. She does not smile. She does not look at me. She does not answer when I call out to her, pleading, begging her to stand. My only ally. The sun to my shadow.
If not her, who else would ever love me in all my depravity?
“You’re not allowed to die until I say so, Yang Meilin!”
I take out the Immortal Herb, crush it into tiny bits, and jam fistfuls into Meilin’s mouth.
“Swallow!” I command her. “Swallow!” With my hands clamped over her bloodied lips, I glimpse a weak bobbing of her throat. She takes in the Immortal Herb, my treasure gone just like that, and I pray to all gods that it restores her to full, immortal life.
A shadow falls over us.
I don’t see Yutu coming closer, but the log that hit Meilin rolls within sight. I look up. What appears to be the bottom of a large, rounded boulder is coming down at my head.
Of course.
Yutu’s mortar and pestle.
They’re the last things I see before the world fades entirely to black.
• • • •
I jolt awake on a makeshift cot.
“How are you feeling, Princess?” Meilin sits by my side, smiling gently as always. She is without her coat, exposing the light armor around her torso. “You lost a fair amount of blood, but luckily your vitals weren’t hit.”
I sit up straight. A stinging pain flares out from my bandaged waist.
“Where is my treasure?”
“Safe, right here.” Meilin rests her fingers over my chest. I tug at the folds of my robe and find the Immortal Herb, tucked between a small cloth. “I knew you’d want to keep it close.”
“Good,” I say. “Good.”
The pain isn’t so bad anymore. Meilin helps me retie my robes. She has warm hands, and a light touch. Warm. Just like blood. The swelling on her cheek has subsided. She stands with her back straight, no longer twitching on the ground like a crushed insect and—
“Was I dreaming just now?” I ask, the image of a violent death burned into my mind.
“Dreaming?” Meilin cocks her head sideways. “I suppose you were unconscious for a while. You had me worried.”
I laugh weakly, turning to grab my coat. The campfire flickers beside us. Yes. It couldn’t have been anything but a dream.
“Is everything alright, Princess?”
“No. Yes. Everything is just fine, Meilin. Just fine.”
But there, the ground shakes again. Prickling dread. We grab our weapons, take battle positions. No enemies in the perimeter. None until that ungodly screech returns and Yutu drops from the sky, madder than ever.
“Run, Princess!”
The rest plays out the same. We engage. We attempt escape. Meilin falls—her armor is completely useless. I force the Immortal Herb down her throat. I pray to gods for mercy.
Far over the distance, the jagged hills of Tianliao glow a bright and angry red. I look up to the same boulder falling straight over my head.
At this point, I know for certain—
I wasn’t dreaming.
• • • •
As soon as I’m awake, I grab our weapons and tell Meilin to move. Fast.
“What? Why? What’s wrong?” Meilin follows me anyway, her strides long and even against my own short, unsteady steps. “Wait, Princess! Slow down, your wounds—”
“Shut up and walk faster!” I slap her reaching hand away. “We’ve wasted too much time. It’s not safe here. We need to leave—get to the dragonhorses, immediately.”
Meilin goes slack-jawed. Her steps slow.
“What are you dawdling around for? I told you to hurry!”
“Excuse me for being so forward, Princess.”
Before I know it, Meilin lifts me up in bridal style. My arms cling to her shoulders on reflex, as if she were ever capable of dropping me. She picks up her pace, carrying me across the rocky field. No one else would ever care to do the same for me. Only her. We reach the hill just as the ground begins to shake.
“It’s coming.”
Meilin puts me down. I take my bow, aiming high to the skies, and wait for the moment Yutu appears so I can blast the hideous monster to pieces before it could ever hurt us. I wait longer. Though the screeching sounds never come, I don’t dare let my guard down.
Too caught up with the skies above, I don’t notice Yutu sprinting level on the ground at my fore—right in Meilin’s blind spot.
“Look out!”
Meilin barely notices in time. She yanks my arm. The tip of Yutu’s mallet grazes her side. My grip releases, and the exploding arrow flies into Yutu’s face. We run. I yell at Meilin to watch for Yutu’s other giant weapons, the mortar and pestle moving like an extension of Yutu’s will. But Meilin stumbles. She has sustained multiple broken ribs. Her throat makes a gurgled noise. She tells me to run, leave her behind, save myself. I refuse. I pull her over my shoulder, but we don’t make it far. We never do. The pestle swings in front of us. This time, it goes straight for Meilin. She falls. I give her the Immortal Herb. The mortar looms above me.
And over it goes, again.
And again.
And again.
• • • •
We attempt a different route. Away from the winding hills, and into the bushy trails between the rockface. It cuts a shorter path back to Tianliao’s entrance, somehow, but when we arrive at the gateway, all seven dragonhorses from our original group have begun to cannibalize each other—broken antlers, ripped scales, torn limbs. Total chaos. Yutu finds us, and it ends the same. Smashed, bludgeoned, crushed to death. Without fail, Meilin is first to go. Without fail, I try to bring her back.
Again.
Another route, we pass a stretch of stagnant waters, bordered by a woven canopy on one side. I use my paper talismans to form a barrier spell around the small structure. It never holds up against Yutu’s barrage. Next, I try folding my talismans into palm-sized zhiren instead—paper messengers to call for aid. They fly out to the Cosmos and never return with the help I so desperately seek.
Again.
I try bargaining with Yutu, the rabid monster. In exchange for our freedom, I promise to build a shrine in the Cosmos, provide a cult following with bountiful prayers, offerings, human sacrifices, all that a yao might desire. I promise to give riches and titles, even pieces of my flesh, if it so wished to feast on royal blood. But alas, there is no bargaining with a rabid monster who knows not the language of men.
Again.
I ask Meilin if she remembers the hundred other times we’ve repeated the cycle. She never does. That’s fine by me. I can find a way out of this mess myself, and I won’t let Meilin die. I’ll keep bringing her back, even if doing so restarts this hell for a thousand more times. I just need to escape that monster. Cut off its head and kill it with fire. I only need to burn that accursed mallet. Then we can be free. Surely, then, the nightmare will stop.
Again.
There has to be a way. I won’t give up. Never. I am Princess Meifong, successor to my father’s throne, future Ruler of the Heavenly Empire. Nothing can stop me from inheriting my rightful place as Empress. I will not succumb to the trials of Tianliao. I will defeat the yao if it’s the last thing I do. I won’t let Meilin die. I won’t stand by and watch her suffer a thousand crushings. In all the years we’ve known each other, I’d never once done anything for her sake. Is it too late to start now? Is it too late to give her the happiness she deserves? Is it too late to beg for forgiveness?
Are we doomed to live out the rest of eternity, trapped in this hell together?
• • • •
I jolt awake on a makeshift cot. It is the same cot I’ve woken on, a hundred thousand times over. The smell of burning wood wafts across the air, and a bitter taste lingers at the back of my throat.
“How are you feeling, Princess?” Meilin sits by my side, smiling gently as always. “You lost a fair amount of blood, but luckily your vitals weren’t hit,” she says.
I sit up straight.
“Where is my treasure?”
“Safe, right here.” Meilin rests her fingers over my chest. I tug at the folds of my robe and find the Immortal Herb, tucked between a small cloth. “I knew you’d want to keep it close.”
“Good,” I say. Then, “I’m sorry.”
“For what? You’ve done no wrong, Princess.”
“I’ve hurt you, countless times.”
“And I treasure every second of it,” Meilin says in a daze, cupping the spot on her cheek.
“You liar.”
“I speak only the truth, Princess. I swear on my life.”
The campfire flickers beside us.
“Do you feel that, Princess?”
I nod.
“The ground is shaking.”
Quickly, we both take up arms and stand with our backs to each other, ill-prepared for the same ambush that awaits us every time. Tianliao appears deserted, but Tianliao deceives us. The hills are bathed in luminous red, and the fields devoid of life.
“I don’t see anything, Princess.”
“Neither do I.”
“Perhaps it was nothing, after all.”
Then we hear that deafening screech—Yutu descending from cosmic skies, its mallet forcing us to leap out of the way. A crater forms where we once stood, and Yutu stares at me with its one remaining eye, the right side of its skull blown completely off.
“Run, Princess!”
Meilin rushes in to face Yutu alone. She sends her claws flying, but Yutu moves fast as always. Wilder, possessed. It catches one claw in its mouth, biting down even as the blades shred its tongue. Meilin struggles to dodge the mallet; with every swing, it comes closer and closer to crushing her.
I scramble into position. In the heat of the moment, the pain from countless gruesome deaths pushes me far past the brink of madness. I send arrows flying one after another, hitting Yutu’s chest, rump, shoulder, gut.
When Meilin is out of range, I use an exploding arrow. It lands on Yutu’s arm. The mallet falls to the ground.
We run.
We don’t make it far.
“Watch out!”
Meilin pushes me aside.
I hit the ground and watch as a thick log, tapered on one end, slams into Meilin’s side from nowhere.
“No!” I scream, a perfect delivery.
Scrambling on my knees, I hold Meilin in my arms. Her body is mangled from the waist down—spine crooked, ribs protruding from skin. Blood spurting everywhere. The light fades from her eyes. She does not smile. She does not look at me. She does not answer when I call out to her, pleading, begging her to stand. My only ally. The sun to my shadow. The one person who ever loved me in all my depravity.
“Die for me, Yang Meilin. Die, and free me from this torture, once and for all. I’ve tried countless times. There is no other way. The Immortal Herb is a hoax. Nothing but a trap. The treasure is useless.”
With my hands caressing Meilin’s face, I glimpse a weak bobbing of her throat. She has no strength left to speak. Even so, even in our final moments—she gives me her brightest smile, drenched in blood, the last thing I deserve.
“Goodbye, Meilin.” My tears fall over her sweet face. “Goodbye, forever.”
The world fades to black, finally, as I meet death for one more time.
• • • •
I wake up.
“How are you feeling, Princess?” Meilin sits by my side, smiling gently as always.
Murmuring to myself, I sit up slowly, shoulders hunched in.
“What?” Meilin leans in to hear. “Is something wrong, Princess? Do you feel pain anywhere?”
“Why,” I finally speak up, “why hasn’t it ended?”
“What hasn’t ended?”
I tug at the folds of my robe and find the Immortal Herb, tucked between a small cloth.
“It was supposed to stop. We were supposed to die for good.”
Meilin holds my hand. She looks at me intently, always paying close attention to my every word, no matter how vague or abstract.
“I’d never let you die, Princess. Never.”
Her shining sincerity reminds me so much of the thousand other times she’s said the same, and I can’t help but laugh in disgust.
“Where are my arrows?”
“Right here, Princess.” Meilin passes me my quiver.
“And my bow, please.”
Meilin turns to grab my bow.
In that instance, I take an arrow and drive it into my skull, right through the eye socket. The paper talisman lights up around that same arrow, and my head bursts into pieces everywhere.
There is no escape. Only hell remains, and this endless cycle of suffering.
梅林 (Méilín)—the plum grove
“I’ll shove this bow right down your throat.”
Yes, of course, Princess. I was hoping you’d do so, actually.
The truth is . . . I love whenever you’re angry at me. I love the way you seethe. The way you threaten grievous bodily harm, or casually attempt murder over the smallest insult. I yearned—no, lived to witness every vicious deed wrought by those delicate hands of yours.
From the very beginning, you were special. No one could move you. As a child, you suffocated your mother in her sleep for singing you a lullaby. Then the very next day, you tried to poison the Emperor’s tea, because he wouldn’t care to look your way. When you caught me sneaking opiates in the last New Year’s banquet, you took half of my supply then reported me to the imperial guard, just to watch them give me a beating. You were a cruelty that captivated me to the core. Like an unfeeling god. Transcendent. My goddess.
I’d been so happy to stand by your side. Every day I watched you from up close, and I would wonder what good deed I must have done in a past life to deserve such blessings. Nothing else mattered to me. I’d trained to become a knight, but when I found out I’d be serving only the Emperor, I stopped. How could I serve anyone else? You deserved the universe, and all it had to offer.
That’s why I took it. That’s why I stole the Immortal Herb from Yutu’s body. You told me you wanted it, and so I had to get it for you. In truth, you wanted it because the Emperor sent you on a quest, but your dear father didn’t tell you everything about the Immortal Herb. How it trapped the user in an endless loop, from the moment they ingested the herb, to the moment of their death—thereby granting them “immortality,” in a sense. It didn’t matter if this death occurred seconds or decades later. The user would relive that same stretch of time, dying over and over, with memories of all previous iterations intact.
It was a painstaking effort to hide all the information from you, but I’m glad I killed those archivists and burned their roomful of ancient texts. After all, nothing should come between you and your treasure. So, when you fainted from injury, I took the Immortal Herb, boiled it into tea, and poured every last drop down your throat as you slept. The thing in your pocket was just a replacement I picked from some branches in the fields.
The cycle will not end. Not unless the user vomits out the herb in its entirety, breaking the dimensional loop. But you don’t know this, Princess, and I will never tell. Why would I ruin our chance to spend eternity together? I love you so much. I may not remember each and every lifetime, but I am satisfied knowing a version of me will stay by your side, now and forevermore. I only hope you can forgive this one selfish act of mine, and live on forever as my one and only, Princess Meifong.
