Shufeng examined Emika up and down, his dark eyes clouded with immediate concern. "Are you hurt?"
"I am fine." She had her head down, and her fingers were busy fidgeting awkwardly around the sash of her dress.
A chilly breeze picked up her hair, stirring a few strands around her cheeks. As Shufeng delicately tucked the wisps of dark hair behind her ears, he forced himself to hold a reassuring smile despite his anxious heart hammering against his chest and the weighty exhaustion all-over his body. "Li Ji is waiting for us with horses, up stream of the river."
Emika shot him a strange look, and she abruptly asked: "Why is your palace maid coming with us?"
He quirked an eyebrow at the strange intonation in her voice suddenly raising this uncalled-for and cold question. "How could I leave her behind to face execution?"
"Is she also one of them, along with her father? How many more from the palace are on your side?" Her black unfathomable pupils stared fixedly at him, and her green irises glowed. "How many of your partisans are you willing to sacrifice to protect you?"
At first, he was startled by her somewhat disdainful tone of voice and how she intentionally punctuated the words 'willing to sacrifice', and 'protect you.'
But the next moment, he did not think anything of it: Realisation quickly dawned on Shufeng that Emika was frightened and traumatised from fleeing death and abandoning Jian's to his fate, obviously throwing her emotions into disarray.
"In matters of the throne, sadly bloodshed is inevitable," he stated. "I have done all I could to avoid this turn of events, but alas, not to avail. And yes, there is enough innocent blood on my hands to turn the entire sea red, but I never was willing to sacrifice them. I am guilt-ridden, and truly do no wish further bloodshed. Certainly not yours. So now, please Em, come with me. We need to leave, this instant!"
"So many deaths... Even Jian turned out to—" She let her sentence hang, though she eagerly wanted to shout: 'Even Jian turned out to be disposable after all!'
"Don't blame yourself for Jian's death," he said caressing her with his voice and with his right hand cupping the side of her face. "You know he could never back down from a fight. Jian knew the risks when... " He squeezed his lips tightly to shut himself up. What a pitiful attempt to comfort not only her but also himself. Yes, what ridiculous choice of words it was! However, little did he know he had been misreading her. Emika wasn't feeling any regrets for Jian's death.
Another wave of cold wind blew in from the river, the breeze rustling through the edges of Emika's robes, wrapping around her and bringing with it shivers. Shufeng immediately pulled her closer to his chest, his hands at her nape and the small of her back.
Then she looked up at him, her chin resting on his taut chest. Something slowly churned behind those bright green orbs when she inquired softly, "Shufeng, who are we meeting with? Where are we heading to?"
He didn't answer straightaway, but instead with one last peck, and another, he took her hand to lead her up the river and meet with Li Ji. "Emika, hurry. The Imperial Guards could be on our trail as we speak."
As he began to steer her away, he could feel that her body was resisting his pull. He glanced back at her face but her features were darkened as a thick, grey cloud shuttled across the moist sky. At that same moment her fingers abruptly loosened and let go of his hand. "Shufeng, I am not going anywhere with you unless you tell me who is helping us and where we are going."
Then he noticed her disorientated gaze, her facial features scrunched up unusually, her stiffened body, her hastened breathing—but then, all of these were within expectations. After all, they were running for their lives. But why was he feeling unsettled?
"Em," he cupped her small face in both his hands, "do not be scared, my people are trustworthy. I will not let anyone hurt you. I promised your father that I will protect you with my life."
As soon as those words left his lips, she had shifted her body away from him. With an icy glint in her eyes and her voice trickled with contempt, she argued, "Can I really trust you with my life? Didn't you promise to save my father too?"
But you killed him!—she bellowed inwardly as she averted her head.
He dimly realised that Emika was slightly different. And he could not decipher this odd emotion once again lingering on her beautiful face. Yet, he swiftly ignored this strange feeling nibbling at his heart, for the woman he loved had her heart crushed to dust when her entire family was falsely executed for treason. Sadly, he had done her wrong by failing to protect her family, and he was at a complete loss to find words of consolation.
He immediately felt utterly guilty of mentioning her father. "I am so sorry..." And lovingly stretching his hand out to stroke her cheek, he smiled slightly, "Of course you can trust me."
Once more the young woman flinched away from his touch.
"Em, what is wrong?"
She took a deep breath, aware that her hands were shaking. And her eyes did not blink as she glued her gaze upon his face, murmuring, "I only wanted a glimpse of you before..."
"Before? Before what?" Shufeng asked, his voice faltering a little as he suddenly caught a fearsome glint in her eyes.
She did not speak. But she stepped back.
At this moment a foreign apprehension welled within him.
A startling low rumble roared loud in the doom-black expanse. Rags of grim grey clouds partially blotted out the moon and the rain which had only just stopped, started tickling the ground again.
He reached for her hand, her tiny hand swallowed up by his. "Em, please, we better keep moving."
But she fiercely refused to move one step forward. "Are your men waiting for us?"
Forcefully, he tried to pull her along. She took another step back. And another one. She wrung her hands in front of her body, then she murmured: "I'm scared. Please, answer me."
He grabbed her dainty wrist tightly. "Yes, allies are waiting for us." Shufeng grumbled in a rush, hauling her. After few steps, she came to a full stop.
"How many? Where?" She stood still, her round-shaped eyes held his dilated pupils in her gaze.
"Is that important, right now?" he asked back.
She nodded. Her coquettish lips pursed. "What if we run into a trap? How can you be sure they aren't already captured by the Emperor's soldiers?"
He sighed. His brows drew closer. The rain was getting heavier. Shufeng pressed on, and yanked at her arm. "Please... Trust me. I will keep you safe. But we need to leave, now..."
"Where are we meeting?"
"You will be safe, do not worry." He said this while his hand swept up to her forehead to wipe the rain with his sleeve. Then he took back her trembling hand, and pulled her close behind him as he led the way up stream.
But her hand dropped to her side because she didn't want to follow him. "Where?"
He whipped around to face her again. He had never met a woman like her—a capricious and childlike woman. Usually those traits were endearing and amusing, but today her capriciousness was disconcerting, and could get them killed.
Her eyes flashed a cold glare. And this sudden piercing gaze chipped away at more of his resolve—he stopped trying to hold her hand. This indescribable emotion in the pit of his stomach rose anew as he watched Emika turned on her heel and walked back towards the bamboo grove.
"Emika!" He called out, running after her but her steps remained steadfast. "Em! what are you doing?" Yes, she was still heading for the grove and it wasn't safe. She yanked her hand from his before he could secure his grip on her, and she spat out with a wretched expression:
"Take your hands off me and let me die! I won't come with you! I don't want to be saved by the Devil!"
He saw that she was crying. The need to enfold her in his embrace was overwhelming. But he did not. And he kept his mouth shut because she was letting her rage and pain flow. He had failed her, he deserved her wrath.
Next, without drawing a breath, she stated with a tone that would not accept any objection: "You killed my mother, my father and my brother! How can I trust you to protect me?" Tears rolling down her rosy cheeks, she spluttered: "After I die, in every of my lifetimes to come, I wish to see you suffer a life of misery so great that you'd beg for Hell to drag you down!"
His face turned whiter than snow. This hatred towards him was unexpected. Hurtful. However, the expected outcome of the anguish and anger consuming her.
Yet, this knot in the pit of his stomach was still nagging him...
The unease which had seized his heart from the first moment he had embraced her had heightened. Unconsciously, he had noticed the unfamiliarity of both her voice and gaze, as if she was an impostor trying to impersonate the identity of the woman he had adored for the past eight years.
His slender fingers tried to reach for her hand, but Emika caught his wrist and brutally swung it around.
He just blinked. "Em?"
But, in the next moment he forcefully pinned her against his body that her forehead hit his chest. Still, she was weeping incessantly, her tears blending with the raindrops. "Let go of me!" But for a second, pressed against his body, she enjoyed his scent, his embrace, and happy memories flooded her mind. Her breathing calmed down, until she suddenly came back to her senses, ruminating about what this man had done to her. She gave him a kick in the shin, "I said—let go of me!"
Shufeng refused to let this madness carry on. His strong hands squeezed around her shoulders, his fingernails unwittingly digging into her clothing, unwilling to let go he growled, "Snap out of it! What has gotten into you! We need to leave. Now!"
Oh, how he could not bear to see her tears! He enveloped her in his arms, only wanting to soothe her broken-heart. But Emika kept on resisting and hitting his sides with her fists.
"I will never forget how their corpses were displayed outside the palace as a spectacle! Never!"
He could feel the grief racking her whole body with spasms. Her sorrow splintered his heart and made him love her all the more. Desperately trying to calm her down, his arms coiled around her even more, swallowing her up in his embrace so as to absorb all of her suffering.
She could barely breathe. She fought and wriggled, then screamed on the top of her voice: "I will never forgive your sword executing my brother!"
Those words robbed him of his breath. He turned extremely pale, and freeing her from his overly tight embrace, he reluctantly met her accusing eyes.
She cocked her head to one side. "Are you denying that you killed my brother Ichirō?"
Shufeng opened and closed his mouth a few times, but he didn't say anything at all. He fought against a spasm of vertigo. "How—"
Her stare was full of thorns.
The look of guilt on his face was palpable.
"The question is not how I learned about your murderous act, but wether or not you will finally be honest with me and tell me the truth."
He knew that the only person present on the day of Ishirō's death was his own brother. Emika evidently heard it from the diseased mouth of Taizong. Consequently, her mind was filled up with lies, and her heart was infected with hatred. He wondered what other lies Taizong made up to spin the events in his favour.
"Answer me! Did you kill Ishirō?"
"I want you to know that I liked your brother—"
She interjected, "Did you kill my brother? Yes, or no?"
His features seemed distorted, absorbed in an inner struggle; yet his eyes were full of a grave gentleness. Shufeng felt exposed for his eyes were never good at lying. Thus, in silent acquiescence, he nodded.
She gasped and her whole body started to shake uncontrollably.
"You said you would protect him... "
But once more you deceived me!—she snarled in her heart.
Seeing Emika bearing with courage this intense agony was so deeply torturous that he wanted to hug her once again, but he didn't dare to. How could he?
"Answer me! I want to hear the truth aloud from your own mouth."
She wanted Shufeng to confess to her clear and loud in order to strengthen her resolve to seek revenge, and to cut off the last thread of affection that bound her to him.
His chin dipped down, his chest caved in, and he squeezed his eyes shut. "Yes, I did."
Pressing a shaky palm over her mouth, she gave him a look of pure hatred that could have set him on fire. "No! It just can't be..." Her voice shrilling in terror, "No! No... ! No! I didn't want to believe... I told Taizong that you would not... my family... I didn't want to believe that you could..." The stored tears continued to flow and the sobs wracked her body, robbing it of the ability to speak–barely allowing a breath to be drawn.
Choking with tears, Emika lifted a ravaged face, "From the beginning I trusted you... but you were deceiving me... Have I known this I wouldn't have helped you!" She was clenching her fists so tightly that her fingernails cut into her skin and drew blood. "Your brother was right... I didn't want to believe... still now I hoped that... I refused to believe but... Father, Mother, and my brother, even our servants... all dead... you! Why?!"
Her rage boiled.
His heart stirred and wrung.
Shufeng threw himself down at her feet, his knees splattering his face with mud. Then, he seized both her hands, looking up at her with a penitent expression.
He eagerly tried to clarify why her brother died by his sword. But his head was spinning so fast that his words were broken, vague, ambiguous, and incoherent; even he didn't know exactly what he was mumbling about.
Shufeng was at an impasse: How could he ever make the woman he loved understand that the choice of an action needed to protect a friend was the same action who destroyed her heart.
But Emika did not wait for any explanation. She whipped her hands away from his hold, grabbed half of his face in her small hands and tilted his head up towards her. She stared blankly at him, her irises ablaze with a mysterious fire, and he could hear the bitterness in her voice as she warned with a whisper, "Soon, soon... Crimes can't be left unpunished."
He tried to stand up, but her hands now remained firm on his shoulders, holding him down, pushing him deeper in the sludge.
"Shufeng, I have finally found the evidence you were so anxious to lay your hands on."
She noticed how his dark eyes instantly shone with anticipation and relief. Stiffly and jerkily, he peeled his knees from the mud and eventually rose on his feet. He grasped at her shoulder but she started to slide from his hands.
"You found the letter?"
She nodded, slowly.
"And did you read it?"
Darkness crossed her face and she nodded once more.
"Oh! Em... I am deeply sorry that you had to learn the truth this way." He let out a long sigh, "I wanted to be the one to tell you, but I couldn't find the courage to cause you greater heartache."
Emika's mind was utterly baffled, thinking: 'So, you don't even pretend anymore to be innocent. Done with your repugnant lies, this equal the confirmation of your crimes!'
She guffawed, while her enraged gaze birthed an eerie sensation that he never felt when they were together—she hated him and wanted him dead. It was like watching a dissipated illusion of the woman he loved.
And her incoherent behaviour began to trouble him.
To cause him extraordinary unease.