Legend of the Dragon Princess

Chapter 9.1: Venom and Roses

Before I could explain myself, Ming forced us into the Chen family's military barrack, even slamming the screen panel doors behind us. For the most part, it would be safe to deduce that we had slipped in, unnoticed by the other soldiers in their hollering, weapon training, and busy labyrinth patrols. Mission success!

Inside the Chen jia, there were cold gray stones, cemented next to one another, from the ceiling to bottom floor, with a large dark wooden table and matching chairs in one far corner. From here to there, paper-screen windows lined up neatly alongside one another, bearing the wooden hollowed-out patterns of rectangles being stacked to meet at its center—while letting soft daylight into the plain interior. All in all, the jia was substantially larger than the other soldier homes we had walked by and saw. Definitely. At the same time though, it was too big—and empty for just three people.

To be frank, there is no longer much of the once-great Chen family—not to say that General Chen himself isn't great. After all, he still is an amazing general—a charismatic leader—a genius strategist—a mysterious man—and a proud fu—father. About fifteen years ago, shortly after the infant Ming was adopted into the Chen family, Hao's birth mother succumbed to illness and died. It was so sudden, and as swift as her death may have been, the General had not spoken of his wife since then and barely to Hao, even. Now, all that remains are the General, Hao, and Ming. Three surviving members of what used to be military barracks of the almighty Chens, I was told. One by one, both men and women carrying the clan name fell to their deathbeds—or so, the servants say.

Then, while I continued to gape at the high stone ceiling, the little soldier boy turned to Ming and blurted, "He's the servant I told you about, who yelled at those qiang liang! They said mean things about you—and then, he told them to apologize, Young Master!" Yes, point to me. Point me out...

I had to restrain myself from glaring at the boy. Though I knew he was young and naïve, with much to learn still—he's got a name (Yun), one that I'll remember to be cautious of. He certainly has a loud mouth, no doubt about that. Yet, I also did wonder when word traveled so fast in the camp to that boy... With that thought, I quietly made my way toward the window closest to the entrance, sweeping a finger across its flat wooden frame.

"I'll ask again." Ming finally spoke up, his lips deepening into a bitter frown. "What are you doing here?" At his inquiry, I reluctantly turned to lock gaze with him.

If eyes can cut, his most definitely can. I wanted to shrink—or better, I wished to dissipate into air, into rain, into shui. However, I fought the sudden urge to hide behind Xin Yi and instead, returned the marble frown. My mind against his. Ming clenched down his jaw even more. His will against mine.

Immediately, Xin Yi, who had been standing off to the side, snapped his attention onto Ming—and before I knew it, they were both glowering down at one another, arms folded across the chests. Well, if everyone in the barracks know Xin Yi, it would only make sense that they too are familiar with each other. Whether or not they are on good terms, even the child does not seem to know.

"Young Master Ming, don't be so rude in front of the pr—messenger." Xin Yi was quick to correct himself, his scowl darkening furthermore. "The servant only did what the prince ordered for him to do, which is to come all the way out here to meet you." As though to draw boundaries between Ming and me, he stepped forward.

"I'm..." I stopped, my pupils shifting toward the young soldier standing right next to Ming. "...here with a message from the prince." To be honest, I was really hoping that the three of us could get along, because Xin Yi is only a year younger than Ming and me! "Also, if you do not mind me asking, do...you both hate each other?" I asked, hoping to disrupt their silent contest.

Turning away, Ming gave out a long, drawn-out sigh. Like Xin Yi, he too donned a caviar-black tunic, matching pants, and a sash-belt, completed with tall boots. "Of all the messengers, why you?"

The little soldier hurried over, motioning toward the chairs, but Ming shook his head.  With little choice, the child gave us each a porcelain cup of cold water to drink from. 

"While I appreciate your efforts in defending me, you've brought unwanted attention toward my way." Ming paused, glancing once more at Xin Yi. "Not only that, you've started trouble with the others here." Then, at me, he continued, "Telling others to apologize and acting above your current rank is not something you want to meddle with." As he brooded, Ming studied the cup. "And...no, we do not hate each other. Xin Yi and I just have some history since his previous post as Major Tang's attendant." He took a drink, refusing to return my intense gaze all while saying so. "I see that you two are getting along though..." Maybe it was only me overthinking, but there was a tart of resentment in his tone. "Xie xie, Yun." What kind of history? I wanted to know more.

At his Young Master's polite words, a wide, beaming smile formed in Yun's mouth while from the corner of my peripheral, I caught Xin Yi's lips part to speak. But the bodyguard held his tongue and sighed, blowing away a strand of hair from his forehead. If the child was not here, it might've been easier to proceed--or at the very least, different.

Putting one foot forward, my sudden movement caused Xin Yi to furrow together his eyebrows. I paid no attention, already sensing his disapproval, and slowly approached Ming, with my chin tipped up. At this, the bodyguard turned aside to make way for me—and Yun's content expression immediately clouded over in perplex.

"The prince awaits your response, but he has given me a private message to pass onto you." I made sure to emphasize my hint, eying Ming fiercely and willing for him to look at me. "A message for you alone to hear."  With that, I stopped short of where Ming stood.  He did not even glance my way.

Suddenly, Yun asked, "Before we grant you both some privacy, if I may, would you mind giving me your name?"

"Yun." Xin Yi, who also seemed acquainted with the boy, shifted his eyes toward the child and back to the stubborn Ming, who remained silent. Like warm, glowing embers, the jasper-sienna hues of his gaze simmered. "We'd best be going now."

"What?" Being oblivious to the air of uncertainty and tightened vexation, the young Yun scrunched up his face—wiggling his nose like a boar's snout. "I've never seen this guy before in my life, and I've been here for at least two years! How could he possibly be noticed by the prince without my knowledge—of all people?" An enthusiastic gatherer of information and gossip, I see. "I must know his name!" Or just blatant nosiness.

"Know your place. It's rude to pry into your senior's business." The rich, honey-sweet voice had diffused into a sharp, whip-lashed rebuke. For my sake, Xin Yi wanted to lead the boy away from such delicate territory before it soon becomes complicated. "He is merely another servant, nothing more—and nothing less." He paused, gently tugging at the young boy's sleeve. "But you should know better than to interfere with royal decree; lest, you want to lose your head one day."

"It is no matter, Xin Yi." Ming broke the accumulating veil of tension, his coral-pink lips curling up at the edge. "Please, do share your name with us." He was clearly enjoying the hefty pressure I was feeling, allowing me to see the light of amusement in his green eyes. "Yun is young, but it would be good for him to be more familiar with his seniors."

Without hesitation, I shot Ming a dark look of daggers. Xin Yi, on the other hand, seemed to be suppressing the vein of his forehead from popping—judging by how tightly and shaky his hand had become against Yun's sleeve. How dense must the child be in reading the air around him!

"Well?" Ming was becoming impatient, egging me on, with arms crossed against his black attire. I couldn't understand why...despite irritating me, I've found his presence strangely alluring. The young man cocked his head at another way, shifting from one leg to the other. Even when seething, my attention did not waver one bit. "State your name." It was though he was purposely testing my resolve after this morning's ordeal in the throne room.

So be it.  I breathed. "My...name is Wei."