Blood and Roses

Chapter-8

Yo, peeps! Hope you guys are all right! I'm on the verge of having a heat stroke. If I die I'll still probably try to write, so don't worry.😀 Anyway, this rant is going to be kinda important, so, please don't skip it.

This chapter will tell you about Zhou. I'm still writing his story but it's turning to be a huge chapter, so I decided to divide it into parts. This will be the first part. Some details, like exact time frame, clothing or socio cultural details will be vague at most because to write them elaborately I need to do some in depth research but my lack of time won't let me do it. Also, considering the in general timeline, which is a few hundred years, I have tried to use words that are at least 150 to 200 years old. But still there are words or phrases that are not old enough to fit the ancient times. I apologize for it. I simply do not have enough time to use century specific language. 😞😞

Now, the most important thing. You will find the plotline very similar to another story. Please, note that I have deliberately used it. The reason of which will be revealed by the end of B&R (yes, I have the ending planned in details too😀). It was an intended adaptation, not my lack of imagination. 😀

Word count- 6.5k+
POV- JY+Z

I'm still writing and I am not doing well physically, so, it will be a few days till I update the next parts.

I thank all the people who are constantly supporting me through their comments, votes, follows, messages and making covers. Because of you guys I'm still writing even though all I want is to get some rest. (I really might die, actually😭)

Enjoy the read!

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Zhou's Story Pt-1

Fifteen year old Huang JingYu stood up from the table with all the vehemence of an angered teenager. The chair moved backward with an unpleasant screech, and the only reason it did not topple over completely because of its heaviness.

“I do not support this. I will never agree to this,” he yelled out at the man that was sitting opposite him.

“You are not here to give your consent to the proceedings,” said General Huang with his usual voice as he set down his cutleries, “The matter is already settled.”

“But I am your son!” JingYu gripped the edge of the table, knuckles turning white.

“Yes,” the General said wiping his mouth with the serviette and looking calmly at his son, “but not the only one, not anymore.” Then he gestured to the waiting attendants to clear the table and told the room in general while gliding out of the room, “The Young Master will not have meals till he learns the correct table manners.”

JingYu’s nails dug into the wood, seething in rage.

XOXOXOX

Two weeks later, JingYu stood at his East wing window, watching over the scene unfolding in front of his eyes.

A newly wedded bride was being escorted to his home by a hoard of finely clothed attendants. Red clothes, red carpets, red carriages, red confetti. Red like blood.

For a young JingYu it looked like the lady was stepping into his life over his dead mother’s blood.

But his eyes tracked down another figure. Away from the main procession of the bride, with squared shoulders and stony face walked a boy around his own age. Xu WeiZhou. His father had commanded him to address and treat the boy as his own brother.

JingYu gritted his teeth, brother? More like the Devil’s spawn. He could not believe how had that boy agreed to do this. Surely, it would have been easier for him to convince his widowed mother than it was for JIngYu to convince his Army General father? And yet here he was, walking along his mother with a shameless countenance, ready to take away the remaining family that was all JingYu had.