Night had fallen over the forest, and the chill in the air seemed to penetrate further into the cave where Yu Chen had sought shelter. His body was stiff and trembling from his frenzied escape earlier in the day, and his torn clothing did nothing to shield him from the evening chill. The sound of the forest outside was muffled by the cave's walls—soft rustling leaves, distant bird calls, and the occasional crack of a twig breaking beneath the weight of a roaming animal. But within the cave, the silence was oppressive, broken only by Yu Chen's breathing.
He sat in the dark with his back against the cold stone wall, his silver hair twisted and wild. The weight of everything he had done—how far he had come—sat hard on him. He had left the emperor, left the palace behind, but the night wasn't kind enough to grant him rest.
The moonlight seeped through the crack in the cave's entrance, casting a cold silver glow on the ground. Yu Chen's fingers tightened around the map he had copied earlier—a crude, unsightly scribble of wandering lines. He had stolen a glance at the emperor's map in his tent earlier, memorizing it as best as he could. It was a hasty sketch, but it was all he had.
I should have created enough distance by now, he thought. At least, I hope I have.
His mind raced. He knew the emperor would send pursuit after him if he hadn't already. The emperor's reach was long, and the guards loyal to him were relentless. He wasn't foolish enough to believe he could escape without consequences, but he had to try—had to run as far as he could.
He studied the map again. The route wasn't easy, and there were too many variables, but it was the only way forward. The surrounding forest was dense, but it was his best chance at gaining the cover he needed. Yu Chen clenched his jaw. He couldn't afford to be caught now, not when he was so close.
He moved further into the cave and curled up to sleep. He would resume the trail at the first light of dawn, create even more distance, and keep moving until the emperor could not find him. Yu Chen allowed himself to close his eyes, but his thoughts wandered back to the night before, to the hunting banquet and the wine.
The emperor's gaze had been unrelenting, a smirk dancing at the corner of his lips. It had been so obvious, so consuming, that Yu Chen had been unable to resist glaring back. There had been a challenge in his eyes, something defiant that screamed for the emperor to stop, to let him breathe. But the emperor had only smiled wider, that infuriating, magnetic smile that made Yu Chen's heart race despite himself.
And then, before he could even gather his thoughts, he had felt the sudden presence of the emperor's private eunuch, Wang Xun. The man had approached Yu Chen with the same ease he had with everyone, but this time, there was an unspoken playfulness in his approach.
"Consort Yu," Wang Xun had called out in a voice that was soft, yet commanding. "The emperor requests your presence."
Yu Chen had frozen for a moment, his chest tight. His eyes had involuntarily shifted to the emperor, and their gazes locked. That same smile—the one that always seemed to linger around the emperor's lips, the one that had made Yu Chen's chest feel tight—was there, dancing playfully as if the emperor had been expecting this very moment. And the world around them seemed to blur out of existence. The conversation, the laughter, the banter—it all faded.
He's doing this on purpose, Yu Chen realized. He didn't need to speak the thought aloud. The emperor's eyes said it all.
When Wang Xun motioned for him to follow, Yu Chen's body responded almost against his will. Each step he took toward the emperor felt like his feet were weighed down by invisible chains, and yet... he couldn't stop walking. There was no rush. His pace was deliberate, slow—too slow. Every inch closer to the emperor felt like his resolve was eroding bit by bit, drawn in by that magnetic pull.
Yu Chen's thoughts flickered between resistance and something else—something confusing. This isn't right. But even as he thought it, his feet carried him onward.
Chen'er," the emperor remarked softly as Yu Chen reached his side, his voice warm with hidden amusement. "I've been waiting for you."
Yu Chen stopped just before the emperor, feeling the space between them shift like the world had narrowed to just the two of them. "Your Majesty," Yu Chen greeted, though his voice was slightly slurred, the alcohol making it harder to keep his composure.
"Come, sit with me," the emperor commanded softly, motioning to an empty space beside him at the head of the banquet table.
The invitation felt like a spell, drawing Yu Chen closer. With hesitant steps, he approached, his heart hammering against his ribs. As he settled beside the emperor, a shiver of electricity danced across his skin, the warmth radiating from Xiang enveloping him in an almost protective embrace.
"Tell me, Chen'er," the emperor said, his gaze on the dancers once more. "What troubles you? You drink as if you carry the weight of the world."
Yu Chen hesitated. The emperor's words felt too soft, too caring—almost like an invitation to share something Yu Chen wasn't sure he was ready to admit. His chest felt tight as he leaned back in his seat, trying to ignore the way his pulse quickened from the proximity to the emperor.
"Troubles?" Yu Chen repeated, his tone light, but his mind felt clouded. "I suppose I'm just tired, Your Majesty. The day's been long, and all I've been thinking about is... the past." He sighed, though the breath didn't help ease the tension building in his chest.
The emperor shifted slightly, his attention now fully on Yu Chen. His lips twitched into a small smile, a knowing glint in his eyes. He gestured for a servant to refill Yu Chen's cup, his movements graceful despite the weight of his imperial robes. "The past can be a heavy burden, Chen'er. But sometimes, confronting it is the only way to lighten the load."