Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Skies, this is boring,” I grouse. “I thought you said we would get some action soon.”

“And I would have thought,” says Qin Zheng, gritting his teeth, “that regardless of the fact that you seem barely literate on occasion, that you understood the difference between ‘soon’ and ‘now.’” I huff.

“You said soon two hours ago! Soon is now at this point!” He has nothing to say to that, so he just leaves.

It’s been a week since Shimin first woke up, and we’re still in the abandoned residence we came across when escaping from the laboratory he was trapped in. A whole seven days of watching and waiting and doing nothing. I feel like a caged bird, with no room to fly free. No sooner do I think this than I am dragged into the past, all the way back to the Zhou frontier.

What feels like a thousand swords slice through us, shaved out from the Emperor’s body. But we were ready for it.

Back to the counterattack we thought would erase the Hunduns for the rest of eternity.

A war cry bellows from our throat. Frost and fog evaporate around us, revealing a carnage of crushed trees. They erupt into real flames under our extreme heat.

Until we were betrayed. For the final time.

The Tortoise catches us, supporting us.

And then.

With a snaking grip around us and a violent tug, the Tortoise rips one of our wings straight off.

Even now, ghost pain shears through my body, eating at my throat, nearly making me double over. It’s not just the pain of seeing the Vermillion Bird so emaciated. It’s the sheer agony of my helplessness when I watched Shimin forge on alone, until his heart stopped.

I need to see him. Even after a week, I need concrete proof that he’s still here with me. But when I turn around, my blood turns to ice. The room is empty. Without thinking, I rush to it, just as it opens to admit Qin Zheng holding pieces of his spirit armor.

His presence stops me in my tracks, leaving me floundering. He frowns at me.

“Whatever is the matter with you now?” I cannot muster the sense to come up with a coherent response, let alone a clever one. Fortunately, I’m saved from having to do so when Shimin walks in right behind him.

Instantly, my paranoia dispels, breath whooshing from my lungs as I exhale with relief. Pushing past Qin Zheng, I cup Shimin’s face, thumbing his cheeks and mouth to make sure I’m not dreaming him up. He gently covers my hand with his own.

“Mei-Niang?” He asks. “Are you all right?” For a second, I can only stare at him.

“Yes,” I reply eventually. “I’m okay.” He leans into my palm.

“Are you sure?”

No.

“Yes,” I insist. “I’m sure.” As soon as I finish, Yizhi walks up, eyes widening at the scene before him. He turns to me.

“Zetian, are you—”

“For the last time, I am fine.” I take my hand out of Shimin’s.

“But are you certain?” calls a new voice from behind Yizhi. It’s Zhenyue, the former tribute turned jailer turned rebel that we allied with to break Shimin out of prison. I scoff incredulously before I catch the corners of her mouth tilting up and realize she’s messing with me. My shoulders sag.

“I hate all of you.” Qin Zheng’s eyebrow lifts, Zhenyue’s smile widens, and Shimin and Yizhi exchange bemused looks. I scowl deeply and turn away to sit back on my bed. But I can’t ignore them for long. I’m too anxious to get a move on with screwing over the gods.

“I hope you’ve come with updates,” I say to Zhenyue. She tilts her head in acknowledgement of my peace offering and then nods.

“As a matter of fact, I do.”

When Qin Zheng and I came here with the goal of freeing Shimin and upending the space station that housed the Heavenly Court, we found things in a different state than we expected to, to say the least. Upon our arrival at the divine palace, we saw the gods. And how resplendent they were, arrayed like they were uniquely born to rule the world. Except for one.

From the legends, the Jade Emperor had been a revered figure, a mortal man who reached godhood through countless good deeds in service to humanity. When he ascended the throne of Heaven, peace and prosperity were supposed to have reigned.

But that day in the throne room, of the nine gods present, the Yudi was not one of them. Instead, at the center of it all, sat a figure more beast than man, more demon than god. Chiyou, deity of war, had usurped the throne and deposed his predecessor. And now he ruled the Court and Huaxia with his six iron fists.

For at least the past two hundred twenty-one years, it must have been this way. The Huaxia of Qin Zheng and Zhenyue’s lifetime saw the same futile power struggle against the gods because Chiyou, the Heavenly Court’s new Emperor, saw that he could take advantage of us while the war with the Hunduns sucked the marrow from our bones. And we, distracted by the thought of our civilization ending only a couple thousand years after we escaped whatever hell ensnared us on our previous home planet, had no choice but to comply.

Money. Young girls. Hundun husks. They asked and asked. We gave and gave. Briefly I wonder. I’m certain all of Huaxia knows by now that its Empress and Emperor are missing. Do they know where we’ve gone? Have they stopped trying to appease the gods, suspecting that we are trying to free ourselves from their clutches?

Yizhi told me in prison that the gods needed spirit metal because it was an indicator of power. That ever since the Jade Emperor had gone missing, the Court was in a constant state of turmoil as the gods, major and minor, rammed their horns together to get more, more, more of it for their own benefit. To think capitalism plagues even the divine.

Bile rises to my throat, and I press my hand to my mouth to keep from retching. I take a deep breath in. A deep breath out. In. Out. Inhale. Exhale. I only look up at Zhenyue once I am sure my heart has ceased its galloping. Although, no one looks particularly impatient with me, so perhaps I have not been in my head for that long. Zhenyue senses something off with my expression, and her lips part, as if to express her concern. But then she stops. I’m relieved. I don’t know what I would have said had she asked again after my well-being.

“Tell us,” I say. “What updates have you got?” She nods.

“I hadn’t planned anything like this originally, but it happened to work out this way,” she begins. “I wasn’t the only servant who worked in the palace prisons. I could manage you both from the security feeds and in person because there were only three of you, and the prisons are basically impenetrable without outside help. But ordinarily, there would be more people like me on duty. That is, if the prisons weren’t mostly empty.” My eyebrows shoot up.

“Now that I think about it, what need do the gods have for jails anyway? Who could they possibly need to lock up?”

“Offered girls like me, at least initially,” she answers, her voice tight. “And any and all gods who got in Chiyou’s way.” A grim silence follows the statement.

“So?” Qin Zheng eventually asks. “Why is this important?” Zhenyue appears to measure her words before replying.

“One of the girls that worked with me noticed that I disappeared at the same time you did, and put two and two together. I am not entirely sure how she found us, and she is only willing to give us so much aid, but at the very least we can trust her not to rat us out, even if she won’t explicitly help us.”

“And what is she willing to give us?” She nods at me.

“She came to me today while I was getting supplies to tell me that she may have a clue about the Jade Emperor’s whereabouts.”

Chapter Text

I have no idea what time it is when we finally leave our hideout. The “outside” portion of the Heavenly Court (if it could reasonably be called an outside) has vast windows. But the view hardly changes, with our home planet dominating one side, and an endless wasteland of starlit space surrounding the other. The lights of the prison we were trapped in at least turned on and off to indicate a curfew. But it’s been a while since we were there. With no discernible days and nights, one week was all it took for my sleep schedule to crumble to ash.

Qin Zheng and I have donned our spirit armor. As always, I can’t help but marvel at the way the weight vanishes as soon as the armor’s needles prick my spine. Unconsciously, I straighten, standing a little taller despite the heavy burden on my shoulder.

After Zhenyue told us we had a chance at finding the Jade Emperor, we all knew it was time to act without having to say anything. We all instinctively felt that if we didn’t overthrow Chiyou while we were still here, we’d never get another chance to free Huaxia from his influence. So we gathered our provisions, split them evenly among us, and tied them up in blankets to carry with us. Transferring my makeshift sack from one shoulder to the other, I almost want to chew someone out for making me carry it, but I hold my tongue. I know better than to assume that we’ll have easy access to more food and water. And besides, I’m not the only one with a heavy load.

We’re headed for a building on the outskirts of the palace, one that Zhenyue says houses the servant barracks. The area is monitored, but not as heavily as other parts of the palace. As far as the gods are concerned, anyone unfortunate enough to get offered up to them probably has nothing better to escape to. The thought makes my lip curl, but I can’t dismiss the truth of it. Everyone forced to work here is a girl who wasn’t wanted. They may not be married, but all the same, they are water hurled out the door.

As we walk, we pass house after house, shimmering in bright, spirit-metallic hues against the rainbow grass and the void beyond. They’re all one-story, with sleek features. They’re also all empty, with no clear indicator that they were ever lived in. Not for the first time, I wonder why they are here. If all of the gods live in the palace, who were these built for? I don’t get any more time to think about it, because we’ve arrived.

The servant barracks look surprisingly imposing compared to the rest of the palace. The sides are still impossibly smooth, and bright Metal-white, but where the palace and empty homes are more curved and flowing in nature, its lines are harsh and utilitarian, and it towers over everything nearby. In addition, its roof is flat, like that of the prison Shimin was kept in, as opposed to the sloping, pagoda-style roofs of the other nearby buildings. I almost have to crane my neck in order to take it all in.

I let out a low whistle at the same time Qin Zheng raises his eyebrows. Even Shimin looks a little taken aback. Interestingly, Yizhi appears unimpressed. But then, he grew up in Chang’an, so I suppose he’s used to buildings that are just as impressive, if not more.

Zhenyue, who fell behind as the rest of us crowded in to examine the barracks, pushes forward again and pulls out her microchip from behind her ear. She bends forward to examine a specific spot, before seemingly finding whatever stretch of wall she was looking for and holding the chip up to it. From somewhere, I hear a beep, then an entire section of the wall slides out of view, revealing a hallway in the same Metal-white as the outside of the building. Instead of going in, she pauses and faces the rest of us for an endless minute, as if waiting for someone else to lead the way.

“Those… microchips seem… handy,” Shimin offers, trying to dispel the sudden awkwardness that’s descended upon us.

“Sure,” Zhenyue replies casually, “if you like knowing your movements could be tracked at any moment.”

“...Ah.” He clears his throat self-consciously. Qin Zheng frowns.

“Isn’t that a security risk then?” She shrugs.

“I won’t say that it is risk free.”

“But?” I prompt.

“This chip is the only way we can retain access to the majority of the buildings we may need to visit,” she finishes. “And, our locations aren’t often monitored, despite the fact that they could be. The gods know, more by design than by trust, that we have no reason to engage in misconduct. It wouldn’t get us anywhere.” Qin Zheng considers that.

“Okay.” With that, he steps inside, leaving the rest of us to follow him.

The barracks, unlike the divine palace, is seemingly straightforward and easy to navigate. On the left side of the hallway is a straight line of doors that Zhenyue says are the servants’ quarters. I’m curious as to which one is hers, but I decide not to ask for fear of making her uncomfortable. Towards the end of the hallway is a fork, with the right side leading towards what looks like a mess hall. We take the left hallway, which brings us to a set of double doors. Zhenyue scans her microchip again, and in we go.

The first thing I see when the doors open is another large room, probably around the size of the mess hall. A gigantic workbench that’s lined with holographic screens spans the left wall. Several young women are seated in front of them, chipping away at whatever tasks are keeping them busy. The rest of the room is filled with scattered desks and chairs that a few people are eating at.

Zhenyue walks over to a slim, dark-haired girl near the end of the workbench and taps her on the shoulder. She startles and twists around, hand clutching her chest. Now that I’ve got a good view of her, I notice she’s got high cheekbones and lips that are turned slightly down at the corners, just like her eyes, which look especially brown in the fluorescent lighting of the room. She relaxes initially when she sees Zhenyue’s face, but her expression quickly morphs into shock. She glances around furtively.

“You should not be here!” she hisses, thin eyebrows knotting together.

“I need your help,” Zhenyue replies, glancing back at us. “Rather, we need your help.”

The girl takes us in as if she hadn’t noticed us until right this second. Her eyes dart from face to face uncomprehendingly.

“We? Who are these people? Where did you find them?”

“They have the same goal as us, Cailing.” Cailing puts a finger to her lips in warning.

“You know we aren’t allowed to use names,” she hisses. “Be careful of your words.” Zhenyue’s brows knit together in disapproval, but she obediently lowers her voice. “And three of them can control spirit metal. We need them.” Cailing’s eyes widen. She bites her lip in consideration.

“...Three, you said?” Zhenyue nods slightly.

“The fourth is a strategist, and all four of them currently have considerable power in Huaxia.”

“Then— they could—”

“Yes.” Cailing swallows, looking reluctant. Zhenyue puts the final nail in the coffin. “After they reinstate the Jade Emperor and return the Heavenly Court to its original state, they’re willing to help us escape.” There’s a long silence while Cailing deliberates. But finally, she looks up into Zhenyue’s eyes, and I know she’s been won over.

“Alright,” she says finally. “I did tell you I had a clue to the whereabouts of the Yudi. I suppose I should help you make good use of it.” Zhenyue’s shoulders sag with relief, and I can hear small sighs coming from Shimin and Yizhi.

“Hey,” Shimin says quietly. Cailing looks over to him. “For whatever it’s worth to you, thank you. I know it’s not easy to put yourself at risk like this.”

“You know, do you?” He offers her a small, sad smile.

“I do.” She presses her lips together in a thin line as she stares him down. He meets her eyes with an even gaze. Finally, she gives him a small nod and stands. As she does, I notice others in the room casting glances so carefully incurious, I suspect they must be dying to know what’s going on. It’s clear most of them recognize Zhenyue, and I don’t want to know how many of them have guesses as to who Shimin is. None come over to ask, however, choosing instead to let us be on our way.

Cailing leads us out of the workroom (as I’ve mentally dubbed it) through a door on the opposite side of where we came in, then turns to us.

“What I am about to show you cannot leave this group.” She motions in a circle. “I need you to tell me out loud that you understand.” We hesitate just for a moment, and then—

“I understand,” Yizhi says softly. Taking our cue from him, the rest of us chime in. She nods. And with that, it’s finally time. We’re going to find the Jade Emperor.

Chapter Text

Cailing takes us down a set of stairs positioned in what seems to be a remote corner of the barracks. The steps are steep and narrow, and the area is dimly lit, forcing me to focus solely on my feet the entire way down. Soon, the sides of my vision blur away until all I can see is the next step and then the next, only vaguely aware of the others behind me.

We’re almost to the end of the staircase when Shimin stumbles into me, nearly sending me to an early grave.

“Skies, Shimin, careful!” I snap. I scrabble at the wall for purchase and just barely manage to stay standing thanks to Yizhi, who wraps his arms around my chest from behind to keep me from falling. Several seconds after I recover, I can still feel my heartbeat in my mouth.

“Sorry,” Shimin mumbles. “I don’t have my glasses anymore, and it’s kinda dark here.”

“Okay, well, just watch your step,” I reply, somewhat mollified. As soon as he says something, I instantly remember seeing him wearing spectacles with the thickest lenses known to man and feel a little guilty for my reaction. Months of not seeing him has caused me to forget the little things, like how bat-blind he is without his glasses. Inwardly, I feel a sudden pang.

Our initial reunion with Shimin after he woke up in the hideout had been everything I imagined and more. Sheer relief and joy had lubricated the interaction so that it felt like no time had passed at all between the Zhou counterattack and now. But after that?

Two days after Shimin first woke, after the novelty of his rescue had worn off, he asked to talk to me in private. Qin Zheng had gone to another room to recharge his qi, and Yizhi had accompanied Zhenyue on one of her trips to increase our store of supplies. That meant it was just us two in the bedroom.

Wordlessly, Shimin motioned for me to sit, then took the bed across from me. He opened his mouth to speak. Closed it. Opened it again.

“Zetian,” he eventually began. “There’s something you’re not telling me. You and Yizhi both.” He absentmindedly rubbed at the side of his wrist. “What’s going on?”

“It’s— it’s like I said, Shimin,” I said. “Like I told you. After I used the Yellow Dragon to reveal the truth about the Chrysalis piloting system to everyone, I took over Huaxia with Qin Zheng, to try and reform it. To try and make things better for everyone. That meant coming here to save you and to upend the current Heavenly Court.” He brushed that aside.

“You’ve said as much. But I could tell that you held back when you were explaining what I missed. There’s this— new— tension, in you. I see it when you interact with Qin Zheng. Which, by the way, it’s absurd in itself that he’s even here to have tension with. Isn’t he two hundred-something years old?” I huffed a laugh at that, half amusement and half panic. Shimin shook his head as if to clear his thoughts. “But it’s not just him either, Zetian. I wouldn’t mind so much if it was just him. There’s something amiss between you and Yizhi.” He waited for me to confirm or deny it.

“I—” couldn’t do either. I choked on my words, desperate both to deny it and spare his feelings, and tell the truth to clear the air. The only thing I felt capable of doing at the moment was avoiding answering altogether. “What makes you say that?” He grimaced.

“Don’t do that to me, Mei Niang. Just don’t.” Well.

“Using my pet name isn’t playing fair,” I muttered under my breath. He let out a small chuckle.

“You’re not being so fair right now yourself, you know.” I sighed. He was right. There was no more hiding it. Shimin deserved to know, and all of a sudden, I felt tired of dancing around it.

“It’s a doozy of a story,” I warned. He nodded.

“I am ready.” So I told him. About the surgery to change my lotus feet back to normal, functional ones, and how despite the fact that I could walk mostly pain-free now, it was still an invasive procedure I hadn’t had a choice in. How utterly frustrating it was to rule while fighting an ignorance born of nearly two decades as a frontier peasant girl. How uplifting it was that there were now female Chrysalis pilots, and how horrifying the thought was that I might be condemning them to a different form of hell. And how, when Huaxia demanded an heir from me, Yizhi had betrayed me, forcing another woman to bear a pregnancy in my stead, then got captured by the Heavenly Court before I could fully come to terms with what he’d done.

Shimin listened quietly, asking no questions and offering no words of false comfort, but I could feel his horror mounting behind his calm facade. When I got to the part Yizhi played, I saw his fists clench tightly, then unclench when he noticed me looking at them.

“I see,” he said eventually, his voice unnaturally quiet. “So that’s what happened.” I nodded, feeling the last of my energy seep out of me now that I had finished.

“That’s everything. For real this time.” He got up and sat next to me, reaching for my hand. For a moment, we sat in silence, finally free of the weight of all the things previously left unsaid. Then every so gently, he took my chin in his hand and tilted my face upward.

“Zetian, my Charming Lady.” He pressed a soft kiss to my forehead. “Chin up.” Then he wrapped his arms around me, and I let myself melt into him, managing to hide my face in his chest before the tears started to fall.

Ever since that conversation, things have been awkward between the three of us. I don’t know whether Shimin ever pulled Yizhi aside like he did with me, but I feel like it’s a distinct possibility. I don’t know what Yizhi told him, and likely never will, but whatever it was, it clearly changed something about their relationship. I’d never pry, but sometimes it kills me that I don’t fully understand what’s happened between them.

Briefly, my mind flashes to when Sima Yi accused me of cheating on Shimin with Yizhi, and I had told him that the triangle was the strongest shape. I don’t want to think about what he might say if he saw the current state of said triangle.

We all make it down the steps without further incident. At the foot of the staircase is a door that Cailing unlocks first with her own microchip, then a retinal scan. The door beeps and swings open, revealing a small circular area lined with cubbies that lay flush with the wall. Cailing bends down to reach a cubby in the bottom-middle. After punching in a code, she reaches in to grab what looks like a red envelope, then briefly passes us to close the door behind us, bathing us in darkness for the half second it takes for automatic lights to flicker on.

“This,” she tells us, “is the clue I was talking about.”

“What’s inside it?” Yizhi asks.

“I don’t know.” Qin Zheng frowns.

“What do you mean, you ‘don’t know?’ Then are you certain it is a clue to the whereabouts of the Yudi?”

“Yes,” she replies flatly. “I work as a technician for all of the advanced technology that the gods deign to send down to Huaxia on occasion. This envelope is a well-kept secret between me and my predecessors, who kept it safe for four hundred years in anticipation of an uprising that I personally thought would never come. I couldn’t have imagined that I’d be the one to open the envelope.”

“Whoa, hold on,” I say. “Back up. Did you say this was kept safe for four hundred years?”

“Yes.” I look at Zhenyue.

“I thought I remember you telling me that the unrest started around twenty years ago.” She looks up, as if trying to remember what she said.

“I did not say that,” she responds. “But I suppose I could have clarified a bit further. I said that it started about twenty years before I arrived on the Heavenly Court. That was about two hundred fifty years ago maybe, around the time of that specific altercation with the Hunduns I mentioned. For the one hundred fifty years before that, I hear Chiyou’s reign was at least marginally better.”

“Oh.” I inhale sharply. I’d known that Chiyou had to be in charge for at least two hundred twenty-one years, because Qin Zheng had lived and fallen fighting against assailants from all sides, including the gods. But four hundred? Cailing’s voice breaks me out of my reverie.

“I was told, when I first received this envelope, that the person who wrote the clue was one of the first to be sacrificed to the gods, by the direct will of Chiyou. Back then, he had only just taken over, and was still trying to establish control over the Heavenly Court. It was as chaotic as it was messy, and I believe security and monitoring of all tributed servants was much less of a priority, and therefore established later.” I can guess where this is going.

“So this first woman set out to investigate?” She nods curtly.

“What she found was the location where the Jade Emperor was imprisoned. But knowing she could do nothing to save him, she was forced to bide her time until the day Huaxia would be ready to rebel.” Shimin has a slightly worried expression on his face.

“What happened to her?” Cailing looks at him, but looks away almost as fast.

“She died,” she says finally. “Killed, for— I don’t know, exactly. But she was made an example of to the few other servants who were present at the time. I don’t think Chiyou knew about her discovery,” she adds quickly. “I think it was just a further attempt to maintain his power over this entire domain.” She gestures around. “I never met her, and I’ve only met a few of the women who came after her.” I glance at Zhenyue, confused.

“How so?” I ask. “Zhenyue implied that she’s technically as old as Qin Zheng, and she’s still here. I assumed that meant you stop aging while you’re on the Court.” Cailing purses her lips.

“That’s not untrue. But it comes with caveats.” She too looks at Zhenyue, who explains.

“The Heavenly Court is so qi-dense that it acts like a preservant, keeping your life force from slowly diminishing after you reach adulthood. As long as you are not a child and have stopped growing, you will also stop aging. But unnatural means of death will still kill you. I may not die of old age while I am here, but I would still be gone if I were to be shot.” I nod, processing that information.

“Then were most of the technicians who came after her killed prematurely?” Cailing shrugs uncomfortably.

“That is the most likely possibility. But I am comparatively a latecomer, and those of us who bore witness to those times do not speak of them.” The room is quiet for a moment before Qin Zheng breaks the silence.

“Open the envelope,” he says. Cailing hands it to him by way of answering. Without waiting, he slits it open with his fingernail, and carefully pries out a tattered piece of paper. He frowns.

“It’s in calligraphy.” My eyebrows shoot up involuntarily.

“You don’t know what it says?”

“You know my past,” he says irritably. “When would I have learned?”

“Give it here,” Shimin interjects, reaching out a hand for it. “It’s been a while since my last high school class, but I may be able to read it.” Qin Zheng cuts him a sharp look.

“I am educated,” Shimin says defensively. “Seriously, let me try.” Wordlessly, Qin Zheng hands it over, letting Shimin squint over it. The rest of us wait for him to finish. After about thirty seconds, he looks up again.

“It’s… a riddle.” Yizhi blinks.

“A what?”

“A riddle,” Shimin repeats drily. “You know, a puzzle composed of words.”

“Yes, I got th— never mind. Just read it.” Yizhi waves a hand toward him. I frown. I’ve never heard either of them take that sort of tone with each other. I’ll have to think about it later.

“It goes like this,” Shimin begins.

“Past the sprout of the uprooted seed,

Under the false invaders of yore,

The Feicui ruled by the mortal’s creed,

Confined to his namesake forevermore.”

There’s an awkward pause when Shimin finishes speaking. Yizhi is the first to break the silence.

“Where’s the rest of it?”

“Rest of what?”

“That can’t be all there is. Read us the rest of the riddle.”

“That’s it.”

“That can’t be right.”

“See for yourself.” He offers Yizhi the paper, and we all watch as his face transforms from disbelief to dismay.

“So,” I say, “can anyone guess what this means?” They all shake their heads.

Well. We’re done for.

Chapter Text

We didn’t remain long in the secret storage room. None of us could resist staying long enough to ponder the riddle at least a little, but Cailing was getting increasingly anxious about our presence in the barracks, and eventually she kicked us out, saying she’d done all she could for us and that we were on our own from here on out. I couldn’t help thinking she was a little spineless for trying to reap the benefits of our expedition without doing nearly as much to help us as Zhenyue had, but the latter thanked her so sincerely that I reconsidered voicing the thought.

Since none of us understand the riddle, we have no choice but to hide away again until we figure it out. I’m already getting sick of seeing my bed. The room it’s in doesn’t even have windows. I sigh dramatically and slump against the wall. We’re closer than ever to fixing the cause of all our problems and yet it feels like we’ve never been so far away. Qin Zheng gives me an indifferent glance at the sound.

“And what are you looking at?” I snipe. He raises an eyebrow at me, but doesn’t get annoyed.

“You,” he responds, catching me off guard. I try not to let it show.

“Well, stop.” He scoffs in amusement, and I realize that he knows I’m not actually mad at him. “...You’re just as bored as me, aren’t you?” He looks away, which is an answer in and of itself. Not that I needed to ask. If he were actually busy, he’d never let himself be baited into pointless arguments. Both Shimin, who was napping, and Yizhi, who was watching him look up for a brief moment, then settle back down. I sigh again, quieter this time, and shift into a more comfortable position.

Without meaning to, my thoughts center on the riddle. The only line I can really make sense of is the third, “The Feicui ruled by the mortal’s creed.” Feicui is another word for jade, and it is well known that the Jade Emperor was a mortal who earned immortality through his endless good deeds. But since we already knew the poem was about him, it’s a supremely unhelpful line even in prose.

I can’t make heads or tails of “the sprout of the uprooted seed,” and the “false invaders” sounds familiar but isn’t ringing any immediate bells, so I move on to the last line, “Confined to his namesake forevermore.” This time, Qin Zheng, Shimin, Yizhi, and Zhenyue all look over, and I realize I must have spoken out loud.

“Have you figured something out?” Zhenyue asks, tilting her head delicately. Her long, inky hair swishes off her shoulder with the motion, cascading down her back. She smooths out wrinkles in her black qipao absentmindedly as she waits for an answer.

“Nothing more than we already know.” I purse my lips in frustration. “Just that the third line refers to the Jade Emperor. And that the fourth line implies that he’s trapped somewhere, which we guessed.”

“Why mention his namesake?” Yizhi muses. “Is he trapped in something specific? And if it’s forevermore…” his face turns pale, and his voice lowers to a whisper. “Is he dead?” We all stare at him.

“But that doesn’t seem likely,” Shimin counters, sounding as if he’s trying harder to convince himself than Yizhi. “After all, if the woman who witnessed the coup thought he would be impossible to save, why write the riddle at all? There must be something more going on.” He nods vigorously, looking more reassured with every passing second. “Maybe we are missing something. What are the chances the clue was preserved completely perfectly for four centuries. That’s a lot of time for an accident to happen.”

“You’re not wrong,” Zhenyue says thoughtfully. “But if there is something else, we may have to go looking for it ourselves. I doubt Cailing has anything more than what she’s already given us.”
“Even if there isn’t more,” interjects Qin Zheng, “we simply do not have the time to worry about the consequences. Dead or alive, the Yudi must be found.”

“The first two lines must be the ones describing where he can be found,” I say. “If we can figure those out, we might at least get a general sense of where to go next. If I were…” I trail off, a thought coming to my head. It couldn’t be.

“If you were…?” Zhenyue repeats. I hold up a finger to her, my mind whirring. It seems impossible to believe, and yet it’s the only explanation that makes sense.

“I think the Jade Emperor is in Huaxia.” Now it’s my turn to be stared at like I have three heads. I hold up my hands in mock surrender. “Let me explain.”

“Do,” Qin Zheng says.

“I was thinking,” I say slowly, “that if I were Chiyou, and I needed to trap the former ruler in a place where he couldn’t take back his throne, I’d make sure he was as far away as possible. And that he’d have no access to the Heavenly Court. So wouldn't it make sense to keep him trapped in some remote part of Huaxia? I’m not exactly sure how he kept the Jade Emperor trapped, but Qin Zheng and I know very well just how hard it is to get to the Court without the help of the gods. If the Jade Emperor was placed in a state of permanent subjugation, it would probably be impossible for him to ever reclaim his throne.” They all consider that.

“Then the ‘sprout of the uprooted seed’ must refer to Huaxia,” Yizhi muses. “But why that word choice?” Shimin startles.

“It must be because that’s what Huaxia is.” When we all give him blank looks, he elaborates. “We all know basically what happened to our ancestors, right? That there was so much turmoil on our homeworld that the human species had to evacuate it and come to our current planet. The sprout, Huaxia, is a result of the transplantation of humanity, the seed.”

“Then that confirms it,” I say triumphantly. “The Jade Emperor has to be somewhere back home.”

“That’s fantastic news,” Qin Zheng replies, sarcasm dripping from his voice. “Then all we have to worry about is escaping off a Court that has advanced enough technology to track our spirit signatures. Intact.”

“Well, we most certainly cannot make that happen if we approach it with that attitude.” Zhenyue’s voice is soft and gentle, but that only makes the admonishment sting worse. “First let us continue gathering our strength through a good meal and a good night’s sleep. Fortunately, since our food stores are packed, we will not have to go to much trouble to do so. Now that we’ve figured out even this much, we may rest a little easier.”

“Sounds good to me,” Shimin agrees. He turns to Yizhi and I. “Stay with me tonight. Both of you.” As if we’d ever sleep anywhere else. He reads the look in our eyes and nods, satisfied with whatever he sees. He turns his gaze to Qin Zheng. “You too,” he says warily. Qin Zheng acknowledges the statement with a brief dip of his chin but does not glance Shimin’s way, instead opting to follow Zhenyue out into the hall for a while. Which leaves just us three together. Alone.

Shimin, who’s already on a bed, scoots toward the middle so that Yizhi and I can clamber in on either side of him. None of us say anything, opting to stew in our discomfort. Eventually, Yizhi turns on his side, facing away from the two of us, and I do the same. I hate that it has to be this way. Once upon a time, I would have felt so at peace in this situation. Now?

I drift off to sleep, wondering when our Iron Triangle stopped feeling like home.

Chapter Text

Our first action item is figuring out how to get back to Huaxia without significant damage to ourselves. Since no one has any immediate ideas that are sound in any way, we lapse into silence as we eat the next day. Shimin and Zhenyue go off to wash the plates. While they’re gone, Yizhi asks,

“Remind me how you and—” he glances at Qin Zheng— ”him got here?”

“With the Yellow Dragon,” I reply automatically, searching on the floor for a piece of my spirit armor. “Wan’er and Taiping helped calculate how we needed to fly it in order to meet the Heavenly Court at the right point in its orbit.” I spot the piece under my bed with no small measure of relief and look up at him curiously after snatching at it. “Why?”

“Could we use it to get back to Huaxia?”

“No.” Qin Zheng shakes his head decisively. “It can barely be called scrap metal anymore, let alone a fully functioning Chrysalis.” I chew my lip.

“It is still spirit metal though. Between you, me, and Shimin, can we at least modify it to make it more useful to us?” He pauses to think about it.

“Perhaps,” he says eventually. “However, getting to it and then molding it undetected would prove a difficult challenge.”

“Well, unless you’re planning on making a spaceship out of a house, it may be our only option.” He cocks his head.

“That is not such a terrible idea.” I cut him a look.

“...Seriously?”

“Think about it,” he argues. “All of the buildings on the Heavenly Court, including this one, are made of spirit metal. In this case—” he gestures to the yellow walls— “the metal is Earth type. It would be no menial task to modify it, true, but if there is anything salvageable from the Yellow Dragon, we can simply integrate it here. It is already a structure meant to contain. We can make it into a structure that is also designed to move.”

“That sounds pretty energy intensive,” I say warily.

“As you mentioned earlier, three of us are capable of manipulating spirit metal. And all of us are capable of donating qi.” At this last part he directs a cutting glance towards Yizhi. The latter scowls at him.

“I never offered to do that for you.”

“Offered what?” Shimin says, walking into the room, Zhenyue at his heels.

“But you will,” Qin Zheng replies, ignoring Shimin completely, “Because you are just as desperate as the rest of us to get out of here.”

“No seriously,” Shimin says. “What’s going on?” Yizhi sighs.

“We’re trying to figure out how to get back to Huaxia.”

“So far, our suggestions are manipulating this building into becoming a spaceship, or finding and using whatever is left from the Yellow Dragon,” I elaborate. “Or both.” He frowns.

“Oh. Okay.”

“That sounds like quite a task,” Zhenyue says.

“It is,” Qin Zheng replies matter-of-factly. “And we will almost certainly need the two of you to act as qi batteries.”

“Oh!” She swallows carefully. “And what, perchance, does a qi battery do?”

“It’s not as scary as it sounds,” I explain, smiling at her. “Using our armor, we can transfer qi to ourselves from other people, which better helps us manipulate spirit metal. It’s no more painful than acupuncture, and we’d never drain more than you can give at any given time.” She still appears doubtful, so I add, “Yizhi’s done it before, and he’s still with us.” He nods at her when she glances his way.

“Then why did he sound so resistant to doing it?”

“I think it’s just because they dislike each other,” Shimin jumps in. “As I’m sure you’ve noticed. But it’s really okay. And it will be of great help to us when it comes time for us to both build a spacecraft and control its descent upon Huaxia.”

“Okay. I— I just—”

“We can discuss it later.” Qin Zheng gives her a sharp look that’s part knowing and part… understanding? I don’t know. “First, we must formulate a strategy for retrieving the Yellow Dragon unassailed. Qi manipulation can come later.”

“Alright,” she says, after a long pause. “Later.” But she still has that caged-dog expression on her face, and I get the feeling that this matter isn’t resolved yet. Qin Zheng turns back to me.

“Do you remember where the Yellow Dragon is?” I chew on the inside of my cheek.

“It was in an area with a lot of skyscrapers, I think. There were a lot of houses, too, but they were crowded underneath. And I think there may have been parks? I saw a lot of rainbow colored grass.”

“What else?”

“Wait.” I exit the bedroom into the kitchen, where Shimin and Zhenyue just were. I motion for Qin Zheng to follow. The kitchen is small but serviceable, with modern appliances and a large window over the sink, which overlooks a great deal of the Heavenly Court. I gesture towards it.

“If we look out there, we might see it,” I continue. I take a closer look at the Court. Beyond us, it sprawls out across three dimensions, its buildings and infrastructure defying gravity to rest in rings and hexagonal patches as if they are growing out of not just the ground, but the walls and ceiling as well. Interspersed between them are the large, hexagonal windows that give me glimpses of Huaxia and the endless abyss beyond it.

“See what?” I look over at Yizhi, who, with Zhenyue and Shimin, have followed us here.

“See landmarks close to where Qin Zheng and I landed.” I point up at the ceiling. “We were all the way up there in the palace prisons before we got to Shimin. Since the palace is up there, and since Qin Zheng and I were able to fly to it, we must have landed up there too, somewhere near it.” Shimin gives the view and then me concerned looks in turn.

“That’s a lot of ground to cover.” Zhenyue shakes her head.

“Even so, just knowing this much information reduces our target radius by a significant amount. Especially since we know that the place the two of you first flew to was the main courtyard outside the throne room.” She looks at us. “Is that correct?” Qin Zheng nods.

“It is.”

“How far would you say you are able to fly before you run out of energy?” I frown thoughtfully.

“Probably several miles, but I don’t think the palace was more than a mile or two from the palace entrance.”

“If we faced the palace head-on,” Qin Zheng adds, “we entered the courtyard from its right side.” Zhenyue nods.

“Then one issue has been mostly resolved. We have at least a reasonable guess as to where to find whatever is left of the Yellow Dragon.”

“But that still leaves one rather large problem.” Yizhi crosses his arms. “How are we going to retrieve it?”

“...About that.” All eyes turn to me. “I have a plan. But you’re not going to like it.”

Chapter Text

My plan is simple in theory, but merits a lengthy debate when I first outline it to the others. The five of us figure that the palace has probably posted a watchguard throughout the palace in case someone tries to get in or out. What we are less sure about is whether the gods have found the Yellow Dragon’s remains. If they haven’t, it’s imperative that we get there as quickly as possible to avoid further chances of them happening upon it. But if they have, then we need to find a way to get it back from them and enact some damage control.

“Here’s what I came up with,” I start. We’re all sitting down in a circle on the kitchen floor, heedless of the cold metal freezing our legs and the slight chill of the space station seeping in through the window. “We need to split up. Qin Zheng and I are going to hide our spirit signatures and retrieve the Yellow Dragon. Shimin and Yizhi will be hiding nearby, close enough to bail us out if we get caught, but far enough that you’re not detected by whatever security system they’ve erected in the vicinity of the palace entrance.” I hold up my hands defensively before any of them can fully open their mouths. “I know there are a lot of holes. I mean to fill them here and now.” I lower my hands. “Ask your questions.” Zhenyue is first.

“I will temporarily ignore the fact that I don’t seem to have a role in this plan to say this. The security in the prisons where you, Strategist Zhang, and Emperor Qin were held was lax because the gods were lax in disciplining the servant network under the relatively correct assumption that we would have few options but to do what we were told to do. That will not be the case anymore. I was not disliked among my peers, but I know for certain that some of them would be too afraid for their own safety not to inform their overseers about my defection, in addition to any and all information they have on the rest of you. Getting to and from the courtyard will be much more difficult this time around.”

“I know that.” I sigh. “That’s the main part of the plan that needs work. And trust me, it relies a lot on you.” She tilts her head inquisitively.

“Do elaborate.”

“Before we even attempt this, we need to get the rest of the offered women on our side. And we need to do it through your friend Cailing.” She purses her lips.

“She will be difficult to persuade.”

“We don’t have to convince her initially. We just need her to let us back into the barracks so that we can convince some of the others to help us. It might be possible, seeing as she’s helped us this much. I’m sure the thought of escape will be attractive enough to at least some of the others. And we need all the help we can get to return to Huaxia.” She nods, considering it.

“I will see what I can do to broach the subject.”

“Good.” Then that’s one thing covered. “What else?” This time, it’s Yizhi who speaks up.

“You’re not leaving me behind again. No.” He aims an icy glare my way when I begin to shake my head. “Staying at the control hub to cover your bases was one thing. This is completely different. I’m not useless, Zetian. There’s no need for me to hide in the shadows while you do all of the dangerous stuff.”

“I’m with him.” I incline my head towards Qin Zheng and pointedly ignore the frown marring his face. “I’ll be pawning off at least half of the risk. And who said you were useless? You were the reason we even escaped last time. If not for you, we may have all died. We need someone to watch our backs, Yizhi. Qin Zheng and I are retrieving the Yellow Dragon because we can manipulate spirit metal. Zhenyue will be off playing diplomat. You and Shimin have to be there to cover us so that we feel safe taking big risks.”

“Hold on.” Shimin’s lips press together. “Why am I staying behind?” Surprisingly, it is Yizhi who answers.

“Because we just went through hell to get you back. It’s too soon to risk you again.”

“I can also manipulate spirit metal. Just as well as you,” Shimin argues. “I could be useful.”

“I know,” I acknowledge patiently. “But we don’t need three people to carry the Yellow Dragon. It won’t be heavy once we connect it to our spirit armor. And we do need at least two people to be in the vicinity.” He draws in a breath to protest but I barrel on before he can. “Besides, let’s say Yizhi is watching us, but things go wrong and he gets captured with us. We need at least one person free to either help us escape or run off themselves and give us a point of contact with any potential allies so that we can be rescued.” He runs his fingers through his hair in frustration.

“I don’t want to leave you in the thick of things.” I raise an eyebrow at him.

“Weren’t you listening? If all goes well, you won’t be.” My voice softens. “Besides, Yizhi’s right.” Though the words taste acrid in my mouth. “We just got you back from the gods’ clutches. And—” My words seem to break off in my mouth. “I can’t bear the thought of losing you again.” Shimin gaze darts back and forth between me and Yizhi for several seconds. Finally, he sighs.

“I don’t think I like it when the two of you gang up on me.” Yizhi and I exchange amused glances, and for a moment, it’s like there is no bad blood between us. I swallow and break his gaze quickly. But not quickly enough to miss the flash of pain in his dark eyes. Qin Zheng intercepts the look and immediately gets up, drawing all of our gazes.

“Where are you going?” I ask.

“The three of you need to work out whatever issues are plaguing you,” he says flatly. “This plan will not work if you are not all on the same page. I will leave it to you to resolve it.” And then he leaves without a backward glance. Zhenyue looks at us, then at him, and moves to follow. As the door slams shut behind her, silence descends over the room. Unable to meet either of their gazes, I pretend my lap is the most interesting thing I’ve seen all week. Shimin’s voice is quiet and kind when he finally addresses me.

“Mei Niang,” he says. “Tell me.”

“I’ve already said everything I needed to.” I wring out my fingers absentmindedly. “To you and Yizhi.” I watch as he searches Yizhi’s face for confirmation. The latter dips his chin in careful acknowledgement.

“We talked about it,” he says, his voice unnaturally even. “We agreed to act as if things were normal for as long as it took you to acclimate yourself to this whole”—he gestures vaguely— “situation.” He half laughs, a dry huff that fools no one into thinking he’s actually amused. “It seems to have only sort of worked.”

“Hmm.” Shimin rubs at the back of his neck, earning a scoff and then a resigned sigh from Yizhi.

“Oh, don’t look at me like that. I know you’re already on Zetian’s side. No,” he says, holding up a hand to stop Shimin from denying it. “Don’t say that you’re not. I’m not mad at you for it. I know what I did was wrong. I know.” He looks at me, his expression hardening. “But I would do it all over again if I had to. I’d do anything to protect you. To protect us.” And damn it all, I actually respect that. But.

“Protection like that comes at a cost, Yizhi. One that goes against everything I stand for. Most of the reason I’m working with Qin Zheng stems from the fact that he is also willing to work for women’s rights as a part of his general goal of protection for the working class. Despite what it looks like, I don’t particularly like him. I don’t,” I insist at the skeptical expressions on both of their faces. “But I need him in order to strengthen my position of power so that I can uphold all the things that are dear to me. Including you two. I am not an honorable person. Let’s face it, none of us are. But there are lines that I won’t cross even at my own peril.”

I summon the courage to look Yizhi squarely in the eye. “Taking choices from other women is one of them.” An eternity passes as we stare each other down. Two eternities. Three. Then he nods. Slowly, carefully.

“I can accept that.” His gaze softens. “And for what it’s worth, I’ll try to be better. If it comes down to some other woman and one of you two, I’d still pick you two, with no remorse and no regret. But I won’t make the same decision again if I can see a way out.” He watches me like a camera-drone while I consider his words.

It’s not the perfect concession I was looking for. But it’s genuine. And honestly? I’m sick of being at odds with Yizhi. I want us to understand each other again. This is a decent first step. I nod at him, hesitantly at first, then more vigorously.

“Okay,” I tell him. “I think that’s good enough for me.” His entire body sags with relief. When he looks up again, his expression is filled with hope.

“Thank you, Zetian.” At his words, I bite my lip, then decide, to hell with it. I open my arms.

“Come here.” Shock flits across his face, but he doesn’t hesitate, resting his chin on my shoulder. I look over to Shimin.

“You too. ” He needs no further prompting. We stay like that for a long time. For the first time in a while, I stop counting each second in between action plans. I let myself forget there’s a universe beyond the three of us. Not long after this, we’ll be at it again.

My mind wanders toward a memory of me and Zhenyue. She’d knelt to me, called me her Empress. I had told her, “Let’s go save the world.” I think it was one of the only moments I had felt like we could actually fix everything. I think perhaps this is another. Maybe, in order to save the world, we had to save ourselves first.

Chapter Text

I place each foot carefully, conscious of how silent I need to be. The long, rainbow-hued grass teases at the ankles of my heavy boots, and I feel a brief guilt for crushing it under my tread. With every step forward, my voice dries up in my throat just a little more. I can feel it. We’re getting closer. To the palace. The Yellow Dragon. Freedom.

Barring Zhenyue, who has gone off to try and convince her colleagues to aid us in our escape, the four of us have inched our way across the Heavenly Court, first in a gravity defying flight in order to stand on what was previously the “ceiling” and is now the “floor.” The buildings are different, but the view of the Heavenly Court wrapping all the way around the spinning ring structure of the space station is just as awe-inspiring. Though the journey would probably appear simple to an outside observer, it was fraught with tension so thick I could have cleaved through it like butter. We knew; one wrong move, and it would be all of our heads on the line.

We glance at each other for a second. Two. Three. Then nod, because what else can we do at this point but move forward? We’re out of options.

Together, Qin Zheng and I creep onwards, hearts in our mouths, poised to flinch even at the drop of a pin. We have almost reached the palace courtyard, unassailed and unharmed, but this is the hard part. I swallow. Deep breath in. Deep breath out. Inhale. Step. Exhale. Step. Until we’re standing right near the edge, where the security really starts.

I have no way of checking the time, but we estimated that we’d reach the palace around an hour and a half after we started moving. Zhenyue said it would take her twenty minutes to reach the barracks, and felt decently confident that she could persuade them to help us. I think it’s been an hour, but one look at Qin Zheng and we seem to mutually agree that we’ll wait for another few mintes just in case.

Mentally, I count up to sixty, then sixty again, until I’ve reached ten minutes. It’s time to move, but my feet feel like they’re glued to the ground. Carefully, I pivot so that I’m facing the courtyard, and there it is.

It’s about a hundred yards away and shaped like a gigantic, Earth-yellow boulder. Its surface looks smooth in some places and sharp in others. Still other parts of it are textured in drip patterns, probably because a significant portion of the Yellow Dragon melted away on impact with the Court’s airlock. In short, it’s a dumpster fire. But as I examine it closer, I start to see smaller details that got preserved. Here and there are large dragon scales that look positively delicate from this distance, sharp defined ridges and spikes that were probably horns, and dagger-like protrusions hanging from what I think was the mouth. Dumpster fire it may be, but it’s also our salvation.

Qin Zheng motions for me to take a couple steps. After I stop walking, he starts, and we leapfrog all the way to it, stopping every minute to make sure we didn’t trigger an invisible alarm. By the time we have each traversed about fifty yards, I’m cautiously optimistic that Zhenyue was successful in convincing the others to relax the security measures surrounding the Yellow Dragon. A small part of me is screaming that this is too easy, but in my opinion, we were due for a lucky break right about now.

I look up again to find that I have finished the last fifty yards and that the Yellow Dragon is right in front of me. I barely resist the urge to run my fingers over all of it. It’s been such a long time since I’ve piloted anything. Such a long time since I’ve truly felt— despite my current goals of staging a coup— that I was a part of something larger than myself.

In any case, it’s time to get this thing out of here. I shake my head, trying to clear my thoughts. Qin Zheng gives me a querying glance at the motion, but I make a negative gesture at him and he lets it drop. I squat down so that we can grab the base of the Dragon, channeling qi through our gauntlets to grow thin, almost threadlike needles that connect to the mass of spirit metal. Qin Zheng holds his fingers up, one, two, three, then attaches his own armor to the base of the other side.

Together, we heave it up into the air. Though I suppose our armor is doing most of the work for us. Spirit metal is heavy— not just because it’s metal-adjacent, but because it’s quite literally crystallized, condensed qi. If we hadn’t established that special connection with it, there is just no way we could have lifted it. As we are right now, the Yellow Dragon actually feels… light.

I cast my gaze back the way I came, to where Yizhi and Shimin are hiding behind a nearby building, eyes constantly trained on us. Yizhi offers a brief nod and Shimin an encouraging smile, and on that cheerful note, we begin the short trek back to them. When we’re ten paces away, they move to either side of us, letting us get ahead of them so that they can watch our backs while we carry the Dragon. Together, we retrace our steps as exactly as we can, looking over our shoulders as often as we dare.

I should be relieved and excited that we’ve even made it this far in our plan without problems. And yet, with every second that passes, my anxiety ramps up higher, until I have to hold my breath to keep from hyperventilating. My fears go unfounded. An hour and a half later, we make it safely to our hideout on the opposite end of the Heavenly Court, and finally, I feel like I can afford to let my guard down.

For another hour, we just sit on the kitchen floor, glancing every so often out the window to make sure the Yellow Dragon’s remains are where we left them. We’re all too drained from the day’s activities to do anything more than exist. Qin Zheng has fallen asleep here and now. It surprises me initially, because the man is a complete nut when it comes to discipline. But then it occurs to me that he’s probably in worse shape overall than I am. Two hundred twenty-one years in a coma would do that to anyone. Not to mention the lack of disease immunity. Ugh. I shudder involuntarily.

Zhenyue finds us still in this state when she returns from the barracks. Actually, she completely sneaks up on us. I fail to realize she’s there until I turn her way and nearly jump out of my skin when I see her standing in the doorway. I scramble to my feet to greet her.

“How did it go?”

“I am fine and safe, thank you very much!” The words are sarcastic, but in an amused way.

“Right, of course,” I amend apologetically. “But…?” She smiles a little wider.

“We are all here safe with the Yellow Dragon. I think that would indicate success.” I return her grin.

“Skies, that is so good to hear. Come. Sit with us.” I gesture for her to take my place on the floor and squeeze in between her and Shimin. He greets her quietly but gladly, and Yizhi gives her an approving nod. She releases a pent-up sigh as she sits, her shoulders relaxing into a slouch as she tucks her legs under her. Her long hair brushes the ground as she tilts her head back.

Qin Zheng wakes up briefly at the commotion, but after a quick acknowledgment in Zhenyue’s general direction, he goes right back to sleep. She affords this behavior no more than a wayward glance before relating what she’s been up to. Discreetly, I give him a shove, and his eyes flutter open.

“Pay attention,” I hiss. The ire in his eyes could burn a hole right through my skull, if I weren’t completely indifferent to it.

“You were right that Cailing would take significant work to convince,” she begins, looking at me. “But eventually, citing her own desire to escape from the Heavenly Court, I got through to her, at least enough to get access to the barracks once more.”

“What about the others?” Yizhi asks.

“I dared not approach all of them, because I knew not all would agree despite the temptation of freedom. However, the few that I talked to were receptive enough to the proposal to limit what security they could, or convince their superiors to do so on my behalf.”

“No wonder we had such an easy time of it then,” Shimin muses. “I figured something like that happened, but it’s a relief to hear you confirm it.” She gives him a small smile.

“Indeed, though I expect our next steps will not be so straightforward. All of my colleagues know that I have effectively cast myself out of service and into suspicion. Now that I have been seen by multiple of them, it is only a matter of time before the gods learn of it. I don’t think the girls who would not help me would actively harm me by divulging such sensitive information preemptively, but I am not sure that they would not reveal it under duress. And such events like this are hard to conceal completely.”

“We will have to be excruciatingly careful from now on,” Qin Zheng warns. As if we weren’t already doing so, I think. How much more careful could we possibly be?

I don’t have to wait long to realize what a fool I am for entertaining such a notion.

Chapter Text

I am rudely awoken by the screeching of sirens. The powerful sound pierces through my ears and rattles my skull, giving me a pounding headache before I am even fully aware of what is going on around me. When I finally get my act together, I notice several things in quick succession.

First, I spy the others, roused from their own slumber as violently as I, hands over their ears as they crane their heads every which way, as if trying to discover the source of the din or shake off the pain.

Second, the Yellow Dragon, serene and still outside the kitchen window, its Earth hues bathed in bloody red from the accompanying lights.

Third, a persistent banging on the door to the hideout, easy to miss under the wail of the alarm but ever present until whenever these mysterious invaders succeed in their quest for entry.

Fourth, in the minute it takes me to catalogue the situation, I belatedly arrive at the realization that something about our mission went badly awry. My first thought is: What could it be? And my second thought is: Idiot, that doesn’t matter right now! Wherever the mistake lay then, we are currently under attack!!!

With a sharp gasp, I come back to myself and rush to block the door, with chairs, a table, whatever I can find to keep the enemies at bay for just a little longer while the others collect themselves. I race for my armor, accidently dropping several articles in my haste to put it on and scrambling to pick them up just as the sirens finally stop blaring. Though, I still hear a phantom ringing in my ears that doesn’t fade until a few minutes later.

I flex my spirit senses in order to gauge how many people have arrived and the sort of firepower that they’ve brought with them. It seems they’ve brought more than last time at Shimin’s prison; I can sense at least ten. Plus, they aren’t wielding normal weapons this time— These feel as if they’ve been charged with qi.

While I’ve been sizing up the threat, Zhenyue has gone somewhere else, perhaps to retrieve or hide something. Shimin and Qin Zheng have also hastened to don their own armor and manipulate their own qi to prepare for the inevitable clash ahead. Yizhi, meanwhile, has simply readied his stance (despite having no armor to speak of) and is watching the Yellow Dragon like a hawk to make sure nothing happens to it while the rest of us are distracted.

Zhenyue comes back relatively quickly— in her hand is the slip of paper that has the riddle written on it, which she desperately thrusts into my gauntleted hands.

“Burn it,” she says, her voice breathless with exertion. “Do it now before any undesirable person gets their hands on it.”

“W-What if we need it once we escape?” I ask reflexively, taken aback by her demeanor. It’s rare that I see her so ruffled.

“I’ve memorized it. We can always rewrite it later if we must. But for now, destroy it. Please.”

“O-Okay. I’m on it. Don’t worry,” I reassure her. “I’ll make sure they never get access to it.” She nods at me, her relief visibly smoothing the worried crease between her brows as she gathers herself once more. While she glides over to join Yizhi, I close my eyes and concentrate, trying to coax out my secondary Fire qi and let my primary Metal qi lay dormant. My blood heats, sending warmth rushing down to my fingers and toes.

When I open my eyes, the little paper has been consumed by flames, the remnants falling to the floor as ash. Slowly, I let my meridians cool, enough to keep from leaking unwanted heat in the air, but not enough to dispel it completely. I don’t know what I’ll need to go on the defense, and I don’t want to be without some sort of weapon. Alongside it, I call my dormant Metal qi, imagining that one of my eyes is glowing a sizzling red, the other an icy white.

Whoa.

Wait.

I’ve never done this before. Though I’ve used both my primary and secondary qi in battle, I don’t think I’ve ever called them into my blood simultaneously, such that both my primary and secondary meridians are lit up. Despite my disdain for the guy, I can’t help but marvel at Qin Zheng for being able to channel all five types at once. Just trying to channel two is sapping my energy reserves at an unbelievable rate. I’m going to be useless for a good while after today. And yet, I can’t help but puff up a little with pride. This is a milestone, and one to be celebrated once we’re in the clear.

Eyes still trained outside the window, Yizhi calls out a warning.

“They’re close to breaking down the door, guys. And some of them are spreading out around the hideout. It’s now or never.”

Now or never indeed.

Without meaning to, I think all the way back to my enlistment as a concubine-Pilot. Yizhi had come to ask for my hand in marriage, insisting that he’d pay me more than the salary they would receive from my “sacrifice.” And then I heard the chopping sound of the hovercar ahead of me, and I had thought the same thing: it was now or never. The first time I kissed Yizhi. The first time I’d ever felt larger than life, free of the pain that shackled me with every step. And the first time I’d ever taken a life. It’s time to pay for all of it now. This isn’t our final stand. But it feels like an ending and a beginning at the same time. Here is where I start fighting for more than myself and my loved ones. For a fleeting moment, I feel as vast as the Vermillion Bird, the Yellow Dragon.

I toss the window open and prepare for battle.