Chapter Eighty-Six: Ziliang... and Me

Yuhua Liang surged to his feet and shoved him hard, shouting, "What do you mean, the dead are gone? You promised me!"

This was the second time the Seventh Prince had seen him cry like this. The first had been when they were in dire straits, when Grass Ridge had tried to kill him and those words had been spoken.

Back then, Yuhua Liang's tears had truly been heartbreaking. This time, it was because he was watching A Liu die.

The prince said nothing, only kept moving toward him, but each time Yuhua Liang pushed him away. Through his sobs he cried, "Why was it only him...? Why? Didn't you promise me? You said you'd save him!"

The Seventh Prince's face was full of guilt. "I'm sorry, Ziliang."

Yuhua Liang understood it as well. Fate was impossible to predict. The Seventh Prince had indeed saved the people of his village, but why had the one who died to be his A Liu?

After his outburst, he knelt once more before A Liu and took the latter's already ice-cold hand. "A Liu, I'm sorry... I'm sorry."

Long after the villagers had gone, he still knelt there by A Liu's side. The Seventh Prince remained with him the entire time, never leaving, never again trying to persuade him.

Yuhua Liang had already been exhausted the day before; today he had knelt all day without food or water, and his body had long since reached its limit. Suddenly darkness swam before his eyes, and his body tilted backward as he fainted.

Fortunately, the Seventh Prince was there to catch him. Holding him in his arms, he looked down at the corpse on the ground and said coldly, "Take him back."

In the boundless whiteness, Yuhua Liang searched frantically and without purpose. After staggering a few steps, a figure appeared before him.

In that endless white, he wore a pure, radiant smile, and for one brief moment Yuhua Liang even thought he had reached heaven and seen an angel.

"A Liu," Yuhua Liang called softly.

But the figure in the whiteness gradually blurred. Yuhua Liang chased after him with all his might, yet could never catch up. He stood motionless, far away.

"A Liu! Come back!" Yuhua Liang cried out loud, reaching toward the figure with both hands, but A Liu would not come nearer.

From afar, yet seeming to sound in his ears, he heard A Liu's weeping. Yuhua Liang knew this was A Liu bidding him farewell. Little by little, white was swallowed by black. Wherever A Liu stood, Yuhua Liang could only watch as he was consumed.

And he could do nothing at all.

Suddenly his body sank, as if falling into water. Yuhua Liang could not breathe. Narrowing his eyes, he saw another Yuhua Liang in the water.

The two stared at each other like reflections in a mirror. Then the other Yuhua Liang's eyes flared with savage fury, and with a single punch he sent him flying out of the water.

Yuhua Liang knew it was the original Yuhua Liang blaming him for failing to care for A Liu properly. Then darkness was gradually torn apart, and beside his ear came a voice, gentle yet urgent.

"Ziliang? Ziliang?"

The Seventh Prince had been keeping watch at his side. Hearing him cry out in his sleep, he knew it was a nightmare and woke him. Yuhua Liang slowly opened his eyes.

Looking up, he realized he was in bed, and the Seventh Prince was staring at him with obvious worry. Coming back to himself, Yuhua Liang discovered that his hand was clenched tightly around the prince's, slick with cold sweat.

"Ziliang? Are you all right?" the Seventh Prince asked with concern. That rare softness in his eyes had never been given to anyone else. Such a lavish thing had overflowed and flooded Yuhua Liang alone.

Drowning in the prince's gentleness, Yuhua Liang felt a little comfort at last. In a hoarse voice, he asked, "Where is A Liu?"

The Seventh Prince's expression darkened. "I've brought him back. A memorial hall has been set up, and he is to be buried soon."

At those words, Yuhua Liang seemed to go mad. Throwing off the covers, he was about to rush out, but the Seventh Prince pulled him back, worry in his voice. "Where are you going?"

Yuhua Liang's eyes were empty, hollow. His black hair hung in disorder down his back, and his face had grown even paler and weaker. Slowly, he withdrew his hand from the prince's grip and said, "To... see A Liu off."

The Seventh Prince did not stop him. He let Yuhua Liang leave in such a miserable state. Watching his retreating figure, his heart ached as he murmured to himself, "I'm sorry... Ziliang, I cannot lose you again."

When Yuhua Liang arrived, the men carrying the coffin were just about to leave. He suddenly rushed forward and blocked the burial. Climbing onto the coffin, he gently stroked its surface, as though touching A Liu himself.

Tears slid down over the redwood coffin. The villagers of Phoenix Plain were also present. To be honest, though they knew Yuhua Liang and A Liu lived together, they had never imagined the two shared such deep affection.

Yuhua Liang looked as though his wife had died, utterly unlike someone who had treated A Liu as a brother. After crying himself out, he said coldly, "Open it."

The coffin bearers were stunned. There was no reason to pry open a coffin and break the seals, but when Yuhua Liang saw them hesitate, he shouted in fury, "Open the coffin!"

Only then did they move, opening it. At the moment the lid was lifted, A Liu lay there with a peaceful, tranquil face, as though merely asleep.

With a bitter smile, Yuhua Liang reached out and stroked his cheek so gently he seemed afraid of waking him. Wiping away the tears at the corners of his eyes, he smiled. "I know you don't like seeing me cry."

There were several glittering burial objects in the coffin, along with the bracelet on his wrist. Yuhua Liang took his hand and pressed it lightly against his own face.

The Seventh Prince stood behind him, quietly watching this foolish, dazed look. Qi Feng leaned in and asked worriedly, "Your Highness... look at him, A Liang..."

The Seventh Prince waved a hand. "It is nothing."

After Yuhua Liang had tenderly lowered A Liu's hand, he turned and fixed the Seventh Prince with a fierce glare. "Pear blossoms. I want pear blossoms."

Qi Feng was startled. Yuhua Liang was truly courting disaster. He knew full well this was the prince, and yet he spoke to him in such a tone. It was nothing short of suicidal.

Just as he was about to speak on Yuhua Liang's behalf, the Seventh Prince calmly gave the order, "Bring me every pear blossom in the city."

Qi Feng's eyes went wide. He nodded again and again, and as he left, he looked back at Yuhua Liang still kneeling before the coffin, increasingly unable to fathom the nature of their relationship.

Yuhua Liang remembered A Liu once saying he liked pear blossoms, so on the road to the burial, pear blossoms were laid as a carpet, drifting and scattering like shattered jade, like a snowfall.

After A Liu was buried, Yuhua Liang kept vigil for him for two days, neither eating nor drinking. Watching him, the Seventh Prince said sadly, "Ziliang, eat something, even a little. A Liu would not want to see you like this."

Yuhua Liang lowered his eyes. "No... I have to keep vigil for him..."

"Ziliang!" The Seventh Prince forcibly lifted him up. Yuhua Liang struggled, but he was already too weak from two days of hunger.

In the end, he could only lie limply against the prince's chest, breathing faintly. He was so frail that even when the Seventh Prince carried him into the carriage, he seemed dazed, like a man in a dream.

After returning to the Wenchuan Painting Society, the Seventh Prince still kept watch by his side. For the past two days while he slept, the prince had kept himself awake through the night. The night was deep and silent.

Seated by the bed and reading, the Seventh Prince suddenly heard the door open. Ye Fang's face lit up with delight; upon meeting the prince's cold gaze, he quickly restrained himself and lowered his head. "Your Highness, the villain who killed A Liu has been found. He turned out to be the former imperial guard surnamed Wang, the one who fled after losing an eye."

The Seventh Prince narrowed his eyes. "So he fled here."

"What should we do, Your Highness?" Ye Fang asked.

The Seventh Prince turned to look at Yuhua Liang, who was sleeping on the bed. "Lock him up first. We'll speak again when Ziliang wakes."

The smile on Ye Fang's face faded little by little. He glanced at Yuhua Liang, gritted his teeth almost imperceptibly, and withdrew.

When Yuhua Liang woke, though his mood remained poor, he still could not resist his most basic hunger and ate bowl after bowl of noodles, tears falling as he ate.

The Seventh Prince was relieved to see him take some food. Watching tears drip into the bowl and be swallowed along with the noodles, he could not help but feel pity for such a wretched sight.

After Yuhua Liang finished eating, he drew him gently into his arms, lifted his sleeve, and softly wiped away the tears on his face. Yet Yuhua Liang never reacted, as though he were ignoring the Seventh Prince altogether.

The prince pitied him deeply. He lowered his head and kissed Yuhua Liang's cheek, like a pet begging its master for affection.

Then he gently pressed Yuhua Liang's head against his chest. Hearing the low voice that rumbled through the prince's chest, Yuhua Liang's ears buzzed.

"Ziliang... you still have me..."

After hearing this, Yuhua Liang's brow only furrowed more deeply, but his hands honestly came to rest on the prince's back, as though seeking a trace of warmth.

Feeling that movement, the Seventh Prince was so moved he nearly wept. His heart pounded wildly, as though the person in his arms were a precious, fragile treasure. The hand against Yuhua Liang's back began to tremble, and only one thought filled his mind.

Have him.

At Yuhua Liang's neck, the Seventh Prince caught a sweet floral fragrance, making him eager to taste the flavor of his body. Thinking thus, he kissed the side of Yuhua Liang's neck.

Lost in his sucking, Yuhua Liang gave a soft sound of discomfort. The Seventh Prince paused, lifted his head, looked at that somewhat pale face, and then kissed his thin lips all at once.

He then pushed Yuhua Liang back onto the bed. It took Yuhua Liang a long while to understand what was happening.

But it was already too late. The Seventh Prince, like a beast, devoured every inch of his skin. Yuhua Liang had to admit that it even felt rather pleasant.

It was only when the prince entered him that the heart-rending pain, with which he had long been parted, suddenly erupted.

The Seventh Prince swore that this time he had truly tried to restrain himself. Yuhua Liang had only just begun to recover and could not bear such torment.

Yuhua Liang did not know how long had passed. The tender sounds in his mouth were sealed within it, and when the Seventh Prince thrust his hips, Yuhua Liang felt heat surge through his body before the prince slowly withdrew.

They had actually done it.

Afterward, Yuhua Liang was too ashamed to meet anyone's eyes and said not a word, instead seeming like a child obediently trailing after the Seventh Prince.

The prince carried him to the front hall. Yuhua Liang looked up and asked, "What's wrong?"

Seeing that the two had arrived, Ye Fang called out toward the outside, "Bring him in."

Two men outside dragged in a one-eyed bandit with disheveled hair.

This bandit was as tall as Yuhua Liang, yet sturdier by far. Still, Yuhua Liang somehow found him vaguely familiar.

Seeing the triumphant smile on Ye Fang's face, Yuhua Liang guessed something. The Seventh Prince said coldly, "This is the bandit who killed A Liu. Ziliang, you decide his fate."

The left side of the imperial guard's face twitched. Then, all at once, he put on a servile grin. "Painter Yuhua! Painter Yuhua, it's me!"

Yuhua Liang was stunned. "Imperial Guard Wang."

Seeing that he still recognized him, Wang thought he might yet be granted a way out and hurried to beg. "Painter Yuhua, good man, I truly didn't know that boy was your friend! If I had known, I would have received him with the finest wine and food."

"The man is dead... what use are your words now?" Yuhua Liang's eyes were cold as a block of ice, as if they were the same eyes he once wore when killing.

It was the first time Ye Fang had ever seen such a look in him, and even he could not help shuddering with fear.

Looking down at the imperial guard on the ground as if at an ant, Yuhua Liang said coldly, "Bring me a sword."