Disung wished he spent more time with his father before the wedding. He wanted to bask in the deep comfort of watching his parents together again or learn more fighting tips from the real Fox. However, hours vanished in a blink of an eye and he barely had enough words with anyone else.

“You should have this.”

Disung looked to his father’s offering he wore early in the day. The real Fox mask stared back at him in his hands. He stroked the fine craftsmanship and found it difficult to describe the beauty of it. No wonder everyone thought the Masked Masters were gods; the masks looked like they came from another world.

“It is time.”

He met Joaolong’s eyes. They remained cold and impassive but somehow, Disung knew he was nervous. Tonight, they risked everything and may not see each other again. The years of friendship made them both unwilling to part.

"You best use the lesson I taught you very well," Disung said with a grin. "You would make an awful slave and an even worse corpse. Such a waste of a pretty face."

"And you best not get too distracted by the new dance houses on the way."

"I'm a married man now. I have to be faithful, just like I have been to you," Disung replied. "Why are you standing over there? Come here."

The men hugged each other, the action saying what their mouths failed to. It ended too soon and Disung clasped Joaolong's shoulder, hoping he got the message. Stay strong. Don't die.

“Enough already! Take this and leave,” Mingzhu interrupted in a grumble. She thrust some soft material into his hand while pushing him towards he door. A blush reddened her cheeks.

“What is it?” He said, despite knowing it was a handkerchief scrunched up. A victorious grin spread across his face as he marvelled at the poor embroidery; the gift showed the sincerity of her feelings.

“To wipe of all the blood if you encounter troubles,” she mumbled. “Stay alive otherwise I’ll ruin your name, boy. Now, begone!”

The crisp night air sharpened Disung’s focus as he walked along food carts. His red wedding outfit had been replaced with a dark, tattered robe similar to a peasant, with the Fox mask hidden from view. Beside him, Chu Daiyu, an older friend of Chunhua, kept a calm facade like she always did palace errands because of produce demands. Her hair greyed faster than others from the strenuous work on farmland and her wrinkled, tan skin screamed her low status. No one would suspect she was smuggling Linlong royalty.

At first, Joaolong was hesitant to approach her but Chunhua convinced him otherwise. Daiyu was passionate about change, convinced the world was against her and all Shanhe politicians were evil. Thus, she accepted their initial vague offer of treachery if it meant new councilmen were introduced. So, she arranged to access the palace by swapping produce delivery roles with a neighbour and monitored the carts. However, once she unloaded the vegetables, they were refilled with people; Shaiming and Yanyan rested in one cart, while Caihong and the family guard crouched in another.

At the palace entrance gate, the carts stopped. The great arching doorway seemed to shrink in Disung’s mind with the pressure of escape. At the top of this shape was an iron gate, ready to slam down when necessary. The bottom spikes winked at him in the moonlight.

“Identity!” A weary guard ordered, strained from working all day.

Daiyu presented the wooden, inscribed plank, that gave her the authority to come and go. Carved on it was the district she lived in and the produce taken inside. The guard briefly looked over the carts, satisfied by the sunken woollen sheets which hung loosely. Yet, he didn’t let them pass; Disung disturbed him.

“Who is this with you?”

“My son. I am old and my back offers no support. He will inherit our farm and must learnt the duties that comes with it. I have brought him with me today but if you must verify, I can show you his identification too. It’s just-oh-where did I…” Daiyu faked confusion while looking for a plank which didn’t exist.

“No need. You may leave. The emperor thanks you for your services.”

Relief flooded through Disung and his heart skipped. They took a few steps forward along with the carts. Freedom was close. It almost seemed too easy. For hours, he had mentally prepared for everything to go wrong. Maybe the gods were on—

“Halt!”

No one breathed. No one moved. Disung gripped the handle of his sword, hidden under his cloak. Curses filled his head.

“The emperor has ordered no one may leave the Lotus Palace until morning!” A soldier yelled and joined his fellow companion. “You there! Farmers! Stop! You must stay until morning!”

They could handle this. Disung needed to think and remain calm. Right now, there was no suspicion towards them personally and the emperor had no reason to punish either Disung nor the Linlong royalty. All they had to do was return to the palace without their identities revealed and escape in the early hours of dawn. Hopefully, guards at the gate changed over to some of Disung’s old comrades, of which he could bargain to leave. Everything would be fine.

All this silent preparation was destroyed in mere seconds; Caihong leapt from the safety of the cart and blanket. She raised her saber with a loud war cry shrieked from her slim body and hacked downwards to the shocked, first guard. He was awoken from his sleepy state and defended himself against the woman’s chaotic moves, half-terrified by the fox mask she wore. While this occurred, Disung watched in horror as the other guard ran over to the flame on the wall, lighting a banner inside to alert the others.

“Push the cart and run!” Disung ordered Daiyu and thankfully, she obeyed without hesitation. The cart rolled down the bridge at a slow pace, the wheels worn and straining from the heavy loads.

Disung felt torn which action to take. The princess of Linlong remain behind him to battle the guards, her ferocity dying to reveal her lack of sword skills. In minutes, many more soldiers would arrive and kill her. Yet, he couldn’t leave the prince and his heavily pregnant wife with a farmer to defend them. Disung stood still, his head swivelling in each direction, unsure what to prioritise. In the past, it was always Joaolong. What should he do? After a single breath, he ran to the princess.

The hidden blades in his clothes emerged from under the cloak like a deadly water dragon and when his hood dropped, the Fox mask covered half his face. The butt of the sword handle smacked the first guard in the nose and before he reacted, his stomach was sliced open. Some blood spurted on the princess but she did not care. Instead, she smiled at her new fighting companion.

“We need to bring down the iron gate to stop the soldiers coming!” Disung shouted at the princess.

These controls for the gate were located inside the palace walls. There was only a short opening to pull the switch before the alerted soldiers joined the fight. But they needed to be smart-

“Princess!”

Caihong already acted; her naivety shone through by her sense of indestructibility. She did not ponder the consequences when she found the switch inside. While Disung kicked the other guard off the bridge with fatal wounds, the princess pulled the lever with little success. Shouts and new glows on building walls alerted of more soldiers coming. It was over.

Suddenly, Mencius appeared from outside the abandoned cart and stormed to the princess’s side with a grin. He put on his mask as well and withdrew his own hidden weapons. These were strange and obviously not from Shanhe. The first looked similar to a spear but had a long, axe-like blade carved with Linlong’s emblem on the end. This was strapped to his back as his hands held other weapons, with handles in the middle and small blades on either end.

“This will be as easy as crushing the bones of an elderly man,” Mencius said darkly.

“Then I could do it myself!” Caihong taunted, arrogantly claiming herself equally as strong as the massive man.

“Anshu, go protect the Third Prince! I will handle the First Princess!” Mencius bellowed and pushed the man away, urging him to obey without disgruntlement. Disung nodded and ran off; it was a smarter plan to balance the strength.

Behind him, Caihong managed to move the lever slightly. The screech of metal sliding against the concrete wall filled the air. It made Disung cringe. The iron gate dropped slightly, the straight ends of iron peeking through the border wall like teeth of a monster. The princess, thrilled by her efforts, continued to push harder without care. A cocky grin and wild war cry left her lips and lingered long after a sword protruded through her heart. A soldier appeared behind her and when he pulled back his weapon, she fell to the ground.

The death of the princess threw Mencius into a mindless rage. The soldiers looked like child toys when he shoved them aside and beat them. A man’s neck broke by the sheer strength of Mencius’s thick, callused hand and he stabbed another right to the hilt of his blade. The last man standing was unfortunate, killed by his own spear and raised off his feet before being swung back into the palace as a corpse. Mencius roared and kicked the lever to the other side to let the iron gate slam down. When it clanged against the ground, he dropped to his knees and cradled the princess.

“No!” Disung yelled back, seeing Mencius trap himself with the guards inside the palace.

Yet, there was no chance to save him. Arrows sparsely flew from over the border wall. The sky looked no different, apart from the odd swooshing sound as the weapons cut thinly threw the air. Disung tried to change is running pattern to avoid getting injured severely. One arrow sliced is forearm and another ripped his robe.

At least the cart remained safe. Only a few, stray arrows struck themselves in the wooden planks on the side closest to the palace. Daiyu didn’t share this fortune. Her corpse fell to the ground just as Disung took over pushing the cart. However, he didn’t dare to hesitate. Instead, he pushed himself to move faster and his heartbeat became louder than Yanyan’s sobs. They needed to avoid the next firing line. He needed to live.

Only when his feet hit the earth instead of the smooth bridge, he risked glancing back. The gate was held shut by a gigantic monster. Mencius clung to the iron bars, weighing it down even in death, impaled by dozens of arrows and blades. Blood drained from him and joined the flood of bodies on the ground. The saddest part of all was the dead princess, who he hopelessly shielded between him and the iron bars.

Suddenly, a jolt of pain took hold of Disung and everything went black.