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He wasn’t fast enough. Feet too small as he ran towards the hidden corridor to the back of the mountain. Robes flying as he tried to pick up pace. Breathing ragged and chest heaving. He was tired. The valley much larger now, as if it had grown in size compared to yesterday. It didn’t help that he was still small, a child trained and sequestered away in the Zhi estate by his father and mother to grow and learn. His father, who was still at their estate, blade clashing with the black robed Wufeng assassins who were attacking. They had been training. His father showing him a few new martial arts forms to learn when the warnings bells had rung. “Run Yuanzhi!” He had ordered as black robed men leapt down from the roof. The rising of metal clinging in his ears as he obeyed his father’s order.
They had been in the middle of the Zhi estate, far from the secret tunnel that all women and children were taught to run to in case of an attack. He was going to be the last there. Most certainly the children from the other lines had already made it, their estates closer. The Zhi estate only removed from the area due to their use of poisons. Their buildings closer to the entrance yet also slightly removed from the others incase of a poison incident, which had been known to happen when creating weapons. Yuanzhi recalled the times the workshops were flooded with poisonous gas, or when something exploded. So it was with good reason why the estate was slightly further from the centre of the valley than the others. Closer to the entrance as to have easy access to the shipments of plants and herbs and for the return packages of poisons to be sent out. It was logical, there were reasons that Yuanzhi understood. Those reasons did not help him when he was running for his life.
He knew that he wasn’t going to make it. It was a dawning clarity that crept up on him with every harsh pant and every desperate press of his legs. He wasn’t fast enough and they could not keep the passage open forever. If he made it then they would have to reopen the door, which was a risk. Yuanzhi was seven yet he was smart. Already gifted in his lineage’s profession despite not reaching double digits. ‘A strange child’ some called him. ‘A genius’ others called him. So he was smart enough even at seven to know that he was not going to make it, and with his death the Zhi lineage would be over. Candles in the wind.
So when a hand grasped the back of his robes, jerking him back so suddenly that the linings cut into his throat, he didn’t cry out, couldn’t with the sharpness of it all. Instead he did what his father taught him and twisted, striking out with the little blade he had hidden on his belt. The deadly poison coating the metal one of their family’s favourites. The black robed assassin who had grasped him had not been expecting it from a child and the blade cut across his hand. Yuanzhi was dropped and he hit the stone harshly as the man grunted in pain. Then he started screaming, the poison a fast acting agent that burnt the victim inside out within a couple of hours but not without putting them through debilitating pain first before eventually killing them. It was a good immobiliser, used to paralyse more than kill. Yuanzhi knew the antidote, every member of the Zhi lineage did since it was one of their best sold poisons.
The drop had knocked the air out of him and pain pulsed in his chest from the bruises that were surely forming. Still he picked himself up and stared at the blood dripping down his elbow and staining his pale blue robes. The man, his attacker, had gone silent. Body paralysed by the poison infecting his veins. Yuanzhi crouched down at his side, curious. He’d never make it to the secret tunnel now and part of him was terrified. Yet he found himself more curious about the effect of the poison than about the prospect of getting to safety. He had seen illustrations of the effects of the poison in books, had read about the effects. But this was his first time seeing it in action and his love of poisons won out over his fear.
“Strange”, a voice commented. Yuanzhi turned to see a second man in black robes standing a few feet away. He hadn’t noticed him approach. This second Wufeng assassin was bald, hair cut to the scalp and blood crusted the right side of his head. “I’ve found a little poisonous bug”. The words were sinister but also intrigued. At the man’s waist hung two strongly curved blades. Their silver sheen coated in fresh blood.
Yuanzhi stood and made to flee, curiosity forgotten as the present threat returned. Once again he was too slow. A hand catching his shoulder in a bruising grip that hurt. He struck out again with his hidden blade, which was nothing more than a thing tiny thing no bigger than a hairpin. It was designed to be a last defence, a security measure in case he was unprotected. He was unprotected now and it was all for naught as the assassin’s second hand grabbed his wrist. Those fingers tightened and Yuanzhi cried out as it felt like his bones might break. The poison blade dropping to the ground.
“What is your name?” The man asked with a smile that felt far too much like a cat toying with its food. “Answer boy. Your life depends on it”. The prospect of killing a child seemed to make the man even happier.
“Gong Yuanzhi”, he whimpered as he squirmed under that breaking grip. He hurt. He wanted his father. He wanted someone safe.
His mind turned to his cousins, his generation siblings. There was no doubt that they would be protected. Ziyu was probably requested away with his mother, son of the sword wielder and safe because of it. Zishang, daughter of the Shang lineage would have made it to the hideout by now. Her estate was closer. The nearest estate to his was the Jue estate. Lang, the second son, should have made it by now. It had been enough time. The oldest member of their generation, Shangjue and Huanyu, were most likely fighting. Huanyu was of age and would probably be in the inner valley protecting the last defences. Shangjue was still a teenager and Yuanzhi wondered where he was. Probably protecting his brother. His Didi. Yuanzhi had seen them playing together. Lang Didi was the closest to him in age, only a year older. Yet he preferred the company of his older brother to Yuanzhi.
Yuanzhi envied that. Many times he had seen them together and had wished that someone played with him. Being the youngest child of the Gong family and only child of the Zhi lineage was a lonely life. Yet now, facing his own death, he wished desperately that he had an older brother who would protect him. Someone, anyone. He wanted someone desperately.
The man holding him seemed thoughtful. “Zhi. Poisoners. Wufeng could use that”.
Yuanzhi opened his mouth and cried out, a desperate plea to anyone, any of his family who could hear. “GEGE!” The echo bounced off the stone and the assassin hissed, brow furrowing in anger as the cry carried. The last thing Yuanzhi saw before a huge hand clamped over his face was the grey uncaring sky. The empty courtyard and no hope of salvation.
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Wufeng had been driven out. Shangjue watched as the remaining soldiers drove the attackers back, slaughtering the stragglers. He had been positioned near the entrance to the back mountain and far away from the main centre of action. Yet as the battle died down he had been allowed to return to the estates and help list the dead. It was mind numbing and he could feel the weight of it on his shoulders. A weight far too heavy for someone of his age, yet he carried it anyway. It had to be done.
Huanyu approached and Shangjue straightened. Concern spiking like a knife to the gut at the look on his cousin’s face. The fear only worsening as he spotted the sword wielder at his side. The leader of their family was weighted with sorrow. “Shangjue”, the man greeted tiredly.
“Sword wielder”. The greeting was pure muscle memory.
“Your father is dead. So is the head of the Zhi lineage. The head of the Shang lineage is gravely wounded. Our losses are great”.
The words felt suffocating. Shangjue felt himself swallow. “My mother? My brother?”
“They are safe”, Huanyu answered for his father. Face drawn and hard to read. “Most of the women and children were protected in the back tunnels”.
Relief warred with grief. Yet something nagged at his mind, tempering the urge to run to his family and make sure that his brother and mother were truly unharmed. Huanyu had said ‘most’.
“Which of my cousins did we loose?” Because they have to have lost one. Sword wielder wouldn’t look so grave otherwise. He wondered if it was Zishang. Could picture her loud and energetic face slack with death and splattered with blood. He briefly wondered if it was Ziyu, but surely the Sword Wielder would be worse if it was his beloved second son. They said that it wasn’t Lang Didi, so that left-
“The Zhi lineage has been completely wiped out. The women never made it to the tunnels”, Sword Wielder’s voice was heavy with grief. “Young Gong Yuanzhi is missing. We suspect he’s been taken by Wufeng. At best he’s dead. At worst”- He broke off and heaved a heavy sigh that felt dark in the daylight.
Shangjue didn’t know his youngest cousin well. The boy spent more time with bugs and plants than he did with other children. There had been attempts at playdates between him and Lang Didi but they had come to nothing. Yuanzhi was a reserved child and had visibly struggled to keep up with Lang’s energy. He had seemed lonely in The few memories Shangjue had of him. Small body, smaller than Lang Didi. A headband on that smooth forehead. He blinked hard against tears as he tried not to imagine that little body covered in blood. “I need to go and check on my brother”. He barely waited to be dismissed before he was running.
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The Wufeng base was still smoking. The scents of blood and fire filling the air as Gong family men sorted through the dead. The bodies of their side being gently lifted away for burial while the Wufeng members were left to rot on the ground. The scents of it all clogged Shangjue’s nose. So much blood that the scent was foul and it was only his years of training that kept his face set. Even after all the battles he had face, the scents of it all never got any easier. Yet it was all familiar in it’s foul wretchedness.
“Sir”. He turned to the soldier who was addressing him. One of his guards. Not his jade guard, who was back at the estate guarding Lang Didi. The guard continued. “We’ve found the poisoner”. Shangjue started walking, strides swift and the guard fell into step with him. Leading the way through the ruined base that had once been disguised as the house of an affluent merchant family. Now it was bloodstained and wrecked.
“Sir”, the soldier voiced after a moment of silence. Shangjue could tell that the man was thinking, mulling over his words. “The poisoner. There’s something strange”.
“What is it?” He didn’t care if there was something strange. Huanyu was dead and the sword wielder’s life was hanging in the balance. They had precious time before he succumbed to the poison the assassin used. A poison their healers had never heard of. The gong family’s reputation had taken a hit after the Zhi line was wiped out to which they had never recovered. They had good healers but their poison masters were all lost. So when one of the assassins they caught spilled rumours of a Wufeng poison master, Shangjue had to track them down.
“He’s chained sir. Not by us”.
Shangjue frowned but any questions in his head were answered as they descended down the cellar stairs. Instead of it being a wine cellar like you would expect from a merchant family, this one was a workshop. Herbs and jars of insects littered the walls and four tables occupied most of the space. Each of them occupied with bowls, jars, pots. Lucky nothing was boiling but the scents of plants lingered in the air despite nothing being open. Shangjue nodded at the four guards at the base of the stairs and stepped forwards into the room. The only source of light was from the small grate in one corner of the ceiling that let in a sliver of daylight from outside. The rest of the space lit only by flickering lanterns but they were enough.
Against the wall at the far end of the room was a small bed covered in a mismatch of blankets and furs. Shangjue barely glanced at it before his attention was stolen by the person standing by the bed. He was dressed in barely enough layers of robes to be presentable. Each layer ripped and tattered while highlighting the strong but slender frame of the boy who wore them. For he was a boy, closer to a man than a child but still a year or two off coming of age. All pale skin, unbound dark hair and sharp eyes. Shangjue could tell from the way the boy stood, from the grip on the crude kitchen knife in hand, that he was trained in martial arts. Also from the snarl on that pretty face, that he would defend himself if attacked even if he had no hope of winning. The thick chain collared around his throat, long coils extending up through the small grate in the ceiling, was a testament to his inevitable loss if he attacked. Luckily for the boy, Shangjue needed him alive.
“Who are you?” The boy demanded, teeth flashing in a feral snarl. “Another client of Wufeng? You can scram like the others before I stab you. Didn’t my fucking guard dogs tell you that no one comes in here?”
Shangjue realised two things at once. One, that the boy had no idea that all the Wufeng assassins in the manor were dead. Two, that the boy was very obviously a prisoner. That was clear in the red rims around the boy’s eyes, in the bruises and scars visible on the pale skin not hidden by the black cloth. Shangjue had tortured enough people to know exactly what scars it left behind. He recognised the red lines on the boy’s wrists. At his stare, the boy adjusted his grip on the knife.
“The blade is poisoned. Don’t even think about touching me”.
“I won’t touch you”, Shangjue stated as he grabbed a wooden chair and turned it to face the boy before sitting down. He gave a signal and behind him, the guards all disappeared up the steps. They would be waiting above, he knew. The boy watched them leave but otherwise didn’t move. Shangjue glanced around the room again, noting any possible weapons. Other than medical supplies and measuring tools, there were nothing but herbs. He also couldn’t spy any recently made poisons either but one couldn’t be too careful. “The Wufeng members up there are dead. My men slaughtered them”.
The knife lowered. “Really?” The boy asked suspiciously. His eyes were like a cat’s. “This cell is practically sound proof. You could be lying. They’ve played that trick before”. The boy was only a year or so younger than Lang Didi, Shangjue realised with a jolt. Another wave of hatred stirred in his gut towards Wufeng. The boy wasn’t lying, that was clear in his whole being. There was no sly manipulation in those eyes, just distrust and fear.
“I am not lying. If you agree to help me, I can get you out of here”. Shangjue extended his hand but the boy just backed further away. Chain on his neck clinking and rattling with the movement.
“Who are you?” The boy demanded again. He reminded Shangjue of a feral kitten. “How do I know that you’re not working with them?”
Shangjue sat back in his seat. “I am Gong Shangjue and I need your help”.
That made the boy’s eyes widen and his stare suddenly felt piercing as it darted across Shangjue’s face. The knife trembled, grip slacking and Shangjue was moving. The chair clattering to the ground as he caught those scarred wrists in his grip and easily wrestled the blade from the boy’s hold. Surprisingly, for all his fight earlier, the boy practically let him. He was too thin for a martial artist, Shangjue noted as he tossed the knife out of reach. He wondered who trained him, how long he had been down here.
“They told me the Gong family was all dead”, the boy stuttered. He shuddered and the chain rattled. If he had been lying before, there was no lying now. The shock on his face was too real. His knees buckled and Shanjue found himself suddenly catching him and lowering him to the bed. Something similar to the concern and care he only felt towards Lang Didi stirring in his chest.
“One of our members had been poisoned. Can you cure it?” He asked.
The boy blinked, seemingly coming out of his shock. Then, he smirked. It was a small cocky thing that made Shangjue frown. “I am the best. Every poison Wufeng uses I created and can cure it”, there was arrogance in that statement, also joy. Then the boy’s face soured again. “Though if I had any choice in it, they wouldn’t be being used by Wufeng”. He turned to Shangjue with big eager eyes and a hopeful smile on his lips. “I didn’t give them the really bad ones I created. No matter how much they tortured me”, he boasted. He almost looked like a puppy hoping for praise. Shangjue felt his lips twitch.
The boy grinned. It was both cocky and hopeful. “If you get me out of these chains Gege, I’ll do anything you ask”.
Shangjue nodded, ignoring the term of address. “You try anything and I will kill you”, he warned. It didn’t dim the smile on the boy’s face as he agreed. Shangjue turned his attention to the metal collar on the boy’s neck, brushing long dark hair aside to get closer. It was a thin thing but solid, leaving the skin under it blistered and sore. It was clear that part of the device was the sigils that restricted one’s internal force. They used the same devices in the prisons in the Gong residence. The keyhole for the collar was small and he couldn’t pick it now. Shangjue stood up and called for one of his men to go searching the corpses for a key.
“The one with a shaved head and a scar on the right side of his temple”, the boy stated with a look of hatred so visceral that it could only come from incredible pain.
Shangjue swallowed back the want to soften the expression. Instead he took joy in the next words he said, lips quirking with smug self-satisfaction. “I killed him myself. His body should be in the courtyard”.
The boy gasped and it was interesting to watch the hero worship grow visibly in his eyes as he stared at Shangjue. The wicked little smile that crossed his lips next was deadly. “Did it hurt?”
Shangjue allowed himself to smile properly, an expression he mostly saved for Lang Didi. “Yes. But not as much as I had hoped unfortunately”. That caused the boy to pout.
It took a few moments for the soldier to return and handed Shangjue the key. He turned and held it up to the boy who jumped up from the bed in visible excitement. He pushed the long hair aside and fit the key into the lock. It twisted with a click and the collar broke apart. Pieces and chain clanging to the floor just as the boy collapsed. Luckily, Shangjue had been expecting this. The return of one’s internal force after being restrained for so long often knocked the victims unconscious as their bodies adjusted. It was easy to catch the falling body and swept it up into his arms. The boy was far lighter than he should be and Shangjue scowled at the thought.
“Gather the men. We’re returning to the gong estate”, he ordered as he carried Wufeng’s poison maker from the room.
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The elders were waiting for him when he returned. Sword Wielder was also seated in the hall, pale and visibly ill but coherent. Eyes still sharp and they crinkled as he entered the room. “Shangjue”, he greeted as he entered the room. “How did it go?”
“I was successful. I found Wufeng’s chief poisoner and have brought him here. However, what I found was not what I expected. He is a child. Around seventeen or eighteen, not yet of age. He was chained to the room and had been there for some time judging by the state of his body. He wasn’t there willingly and in return for his freedom he had promised to make you the antidote”. He pulled out a small bottle from his sleeves and held it out. “Here it is. I tested it myself. It is the antidote”. He had also watched the boy brew it in an inn on their journey back. The boy brimming with energy now that he was unchained and out of the cellar. He had eagerly prepared the antidote, Shangjue watching the entire time. It was clear that poisons were his passion and that he was a gifted as he had said. The antidote had been complete before the night was out. The boy grinning smugly and smelling like herbs.
A servant took the bottle and handed it over to the sword wielder who took it. As they all watched, he exhaled and the discolouration on his fingertips began to fade before their eyes. The man sighed in relief and the elders looked pleased. “What is the boy’s name?” The sword wielder asked as he straightened on his cushions. He was still weak but his strength would return and he was already looking better than moments before. “I shall like to thank him and ask him of his experience with Wufeng. If he was a captive, you say, then maybe there will be a thing we can offer him to stay here. Having Wufeng’s chief poisoner working for us might be what we need to rebuild the Zhi legacy”.
The elders agreed. Shangjue gestured at a servant to summon the boy and nodded. “I do not know his name. He said that everyone at Wufeng just called him ‘Poisoner’”.
The servant returned and following her was the boy. He looked far better than he did a couple of days ago. A few days of proper meals, baths and sunlight had improved his skin. He was still pale but the return of his internal force had brought colour to his face and he was walking straight with the grace of a young master. His hair tied up in a simple bun and his warm grey robes hid the remaining scars and bruises on his frame. Only the red scar left from the collar on his neck was still visible but he made no motion to hide it, in fact he lifted his head higher as he entered the room. Bowing to the Sword Wielder and the elders with grace. “Greetings lords, Sword Wielder”.
“You are the poisoner of Wufeng?” Elder Yue asked.
The boy nodded and Shangjue watched the way the sunlight graced his skin. “That I am. Not willingly. I was taken by them as a child. At first they trained me, wanting me to be an assassin. When I showed more skill in poisons they began forcing me to make them. I tried to escape many times. Each time they found me. They couldn’t kill me, nor poison me with my own poisons so they had to resort to different methods to make me stay”, he raised one hand to his neck in memory of the collar. Then he flashed a warm smile and bowed to Shangjue. “I sincerely thank Shangjue Gege for freeing me. I swear my life to his service”. Shangjue felt himself smile back.
The elders and Sword Wielder were all staring at the boy with wide eyes. “He looks familiar”, Elder Hua voiced, brow furrowing. “Boy. What is your name?”
The boy hesitated, anxiety falling over his face. When he spoke next, it was smaller than before. “Wufeng never used my name, just ‘Poisoner’. I almost forgot my born name and the family I came from. It’s been ten years after all and I was told you were all dead”. He bowed again. Smile brittle and hesitant. “Greeting’s again elders, Sword Wielder. I am Gong Yuanzhi”.
The silence that lasted the next second was one of shock. “You look like your mother”, Elder Xue smiled.
“He does”, Agreed Elder Hua. “But he has the bearings of his father. How fortunate we are to have you returned to us once again”.
“Yuanzhi”, Sword Wielder voiced. “Can you tell us what happened that day ten years ago?”
Yuanzhi smiled bitterly. Shangjue was still reeling from the shock that this was the cousin they had all failed ten years ago. The younger generation brother that he only just saved. He wanted to go and wrap him up into something warm, take him back home and let Lang Didi fret over him like the younger man tended to do over all their generational siblings. His eyes darted to the scar on Yuanzhi’s neck and fury at Wufeng rose in his chest so sharply that he had to grit his teeth. He would make them rue the day they decided to take one of them, one of his little brothers. Everyone in the martial world knew that you did not mess with Shangjue’s little brother. He would have to spread the word that this included Yuanzhi too.
“I was training with my father”, Yuanzhi’s words were slow. His face scrunched up as he tried to remember. “I remember the warnings bells. Father told me to run but we were too far from the tunnel. I was too small. I knew I wasn’t going to make it. A man grabbed me. I used the hidden blade my father gave me. But there was a second one. He liked me so instead of killing me, he took me”.
Sword wielder nodded. “We found a dead assassin who had been poisoned with a signature Zhi family poison. When we couldn’t find you, we thought Wufeng had killed you. I am grateful that you have returned. All your parent’s assets shall be returned to you. When you are of age you will be the head of the Zhi family”.
Yuanzhi nodded but he didn’t seem to be processing it. His gaze was far away. Shangjue cleared his throat. “Until he is of age, he shall need to be protected. If word gets out that he has returned then he will be in danger. I propose he stays at my estate for the time being”.
The elders all nodded. “That is for the best”, Elder Hua stated. “Yuanzhi. We are grateful for your return”.
Yuanzhi bowed in parting and Shangjue followed him out. Once the doors to the hall had closed, the younger stopped, gaze fixed to the floor. “Gege”, he muttered softly. A plea, a request. Something Shangjue couldn’t refuse. He stepped closer. Yuanzhi looked up at him, eyes red rimmed. “I called for one, when he took me. I wanted you, for anyone, to come and save me but no one heard”. If that didn’t make guilt and horror bubble up in Shangjue’s chest then he was an unfeeling monster. It was bad enough they had lost their youngest. The weight of that had hung over all their heads. What was the point of having plans in case of attack if it failed the youngest of them, the most vulnerable. After the event they had placed more hidden escape rooms around the estates so that every estate had somewhere to go incase of another attack, but by then it had been too late. Shangjue could only imagine the things Yuanzhi had been through in the ten years since.
“I’m here now”, he promised as he pulled the younger into a hug. Yuanzhi froze at the contact before melting into the hold. Fists clutching handfuls of Shangjue’s robes as chest shook. Ten years worth of sobs welling up in him as his knees buckled. Shangjue caught him again, hefting him up easily and carrying him down the path towards the Jue estate. “Come on Didi”, he soothed as the boy in his arms clung on. “Let’s go home”.