Past—

There wasn't enough patience in the world for Qian Meng to tolerate Lei Hua for more than an hour a day. Yet, from the moment he woke to midafternoon, the man had stuck to him like a slug.

"Aren't you supposed to be out slaying demonic beasts?" He snapped when the cultivator got a little too close.

Lei Hua gave him a tight-lipped smile. "Not today. My father is away. We will resume tomorrow. So, for now, we have time to get to know one another."

Qian Meng frowned, bending over to grasp the bushel of figs the cook requested be brought in from food storage for tonight's banquet. His father was hosting a party in honor of the Spring Lantern Festival being celebrated in the lower cities. The king had deemed the palace unsuited for such festivities, but as cultivators were here to witness the king's daily life, Qian Wei felt the need to put on a show. Qian Meng had almost laughed out loud when he heard the news of his father's posturing. The only thing was. . . Qian Meng had been elected to haul things from one place to the other.

To earn your keep, his father had said.

So here he was, shuttling food from the storehouse to the main kitchens to be thrown into bubbling pots and chopped into bits. Lei Hua trailed along behind him with a sack of potatoes tossed carelessly over one shoulder, not even breaking a sweat. It looked wrong for such a dignified man to be doing such things, and the kitchen staff had commented on it, but the young cultivator only waved them off with a laugh. It seemed he was raised to believe he was above no one and nothing. Qian Meng admired that and thought it a good way to live, but, of course, he'd never admit it.

"And what is your father away for? The festival on Zephyr mountain?"

The cultivator smiled, chuckling. "No, of course not! You've met him. Does he strike you as the fanciful type?"

No, he most certainly did not. The temple head could have been made of stone for all the emotion he'd shown. And if he revealed something, it was more often than not a sense of annoyance. Either directed at his youngest son or the king of Pondlightian. Never his eldest boy, a man so starkly similar to the temple head, they might as well have been born twins. Not that Qian Meng would utter a word about any of his musings. Hell, he didn't even wish to talk with Lei Hua in the first place, let alone about his family matters. They were not close enough for such things, and never would be.

Much to the cultivator's dismay.

They arrived at the kitchens. A whirl of servants swept forward to take the food without comment before disappearing again. Qian Meng heaved a sigh as he straightened, rubbing his aching spine. Sweat beaded across his temples, ready to spill down his face in rivers. It was boiling for early spring, but he didn't dare complain. As if sensing his discomfort, Lei Hua sidled up beside the prince and offered a water skin. Qian Meng only stared at it for a moment in silence, eyes tracing the rings adorning the man's lithe fingers.

"Come on, it's safe!" Lei Hua complained, good-naturedly, shaking it.

With a twist of his mouth, the prince took it. Gulping down the crisp, cool water. It slid down his throat and into his empty stomach to splash there, reminding him how long it's been since he had eaten. Two, maybe three days? He couldn't be sure, as he'd fasted many times in the past when servants forgot to bring him suitable food. Miss Mao was still away. Gathering spirit grass from the fields just below the peak of Achak after the long winter prevented them from making the trip. And she was the one who delivered his meals. He straightened to his full height, pressing his palm into his forehead with a sigh.

Lei Hua hovered in his peripheral vision. "Are you hungry? Shall we take a break?"

The prince eyed the cultivator beside him. Now he wished to share a meal together? That almost felt like taking their casual in passing conversations too far. Because at that point, it was a deliberate choice.

"You may go eat if you are hungry," he eventually replied, voice low as he turned to march back toward the storehouse.

There were still three bags left to carry. After that, he could climb the mountain behind the castle, focus on meditation, and stave off hunger until Miss Mao returned. She was due back tonight, so it would not be a hardship. He had gone longer. Lei Hua caught up in two bounding strides, tucking his arms behind his back as he leaned in, cream robes swishing. Today they were more ornate than before. Stitched with lotus flowers in bright ivory and trimmed with sparkling thread. His hair was pulled back away from his face, with matching golden combs adorned with rubies to match his eyes and pearls to catch the light. Clearly, the Zephyr temple was no stranger to the finer side of life.

"Oh, come on. My brother said lunch was just delivered to our rooms. You may eat with us as there is plenty to go around."

Qian Meng didn't reply. In fact, he didn't even look at the man as he bent to haul two sacks at once. There was no way he'd step foot in the main palace where the cultivators were staying. He hadn't been inside since he was very, very young. Lei Hua took the last bag, trailing him yet again.

"No, thank you. And after this, you may leave me be."

On the last pass through the busy kitchens, someone stopped to thank them, or, more specifically, Lei Hua. She bowed low and held out a basket, which he took with a grin, lifting his brow.

"What's this?"

The girl blushed so hard steam could have come out of her ears. "A small thank you from the staff. We're grateful for your help."

Qian Meng watched the exchange with disinterest, inching toward the door to slip out. But the wily cultivator caught him by the arm just in time, hauling him back to his side and pushing the basket into the prince's arms. The girl slowly lost her smile, eyes darting between them. The gift obviously wasn't for him.

"That is so nice of you, but you should really thank the prince. He did most of the heavy lifting," Lei Hua demurred.

The girl dipped her chin to Qian Meng, saying nothing before darting away. Other people in the hall turned to watch her flee, then shot accusing looks at him. The expressions grated against his skin just as painful as a slashing knife. He hated that look. It was a mixture of pity and accusation and mistrust bred over years of his name smeared through the mud. Years of his father and brother telling everyone around him how little he deserved to be alive. The shame of it being cast on him in the cultivator's presence made him wither, shoulders slumping and heart ratcheting into overdrive.

The walls closed in, and the prince could bear the crowded atmosphere no longer, fleeing into the light of day. He left the basket on a shelf by the door in his hurry. There was no reason for them to waste food on him and feel guilty all at the same time. He didn't stop in the courtyard either, moving around the side of the building that would take him back to the barracks. His heartbeat pounded in his ears. Over and over, louder and louder.

"Qian Meng!"

The shout was a distant thing, echoing, yet it didn't stop him. Even if it was the first time anyone had said his name in months, maybe years. He ran past the soldiers in a blur, down the winding cobble path toward the back gardens full of splashing koi and cherry trees. Their blossoms were now fluttering down around him to be trampled underfoot, the scent of them overwhelmingly sweet. He almost gagged, perhaps from lack of breath, perhaps from the scent. The prince couldn't tell.

The back gate stood open, paper lanterns fluttering in the breeze to celebrate the festival, painted with the motif of a loon taking flight—the empire's sigil. Seeing such a display of wealth and power when he could not even accept the gift of a picnic basket wounded him further. The guards didn't bother to stop him from rushing past, knowing exactly where he planned to go.

The hill felt impossibly high, his feet slipping with every other step. Each breath tore from his lungs like jagged glass, and by the time he collapsed before the willow, hands scraping uselessly in the dirt, his vision was swimming. His chest felt ready to explode, aching and tight in a way he was intimately familiar with. Qian Meng was about to crawl forward, about to sit up with his back leaning into the trunk and count the seconds until he could breathe again when a hand slammed into his spine.

He coughed, eyes widening in surprise. A surge of energy followed, pouring into him like a river without a dam. It overshadowed everything else, silencing his racing mind and calming his rapid heart. The prince could do nothing but lie there, eyes fluttering closed with how perfect it felt. How right. He wished to feel it every day for the rest of his life, this peace. But, as all good things do, it faded when the hand on his back slipped away. Qian Meng slowly sat up, his sweaty arms steady as he turned toward whoever helped him.

Of course, it was Lei Hua.

The cultivator's expression was clouded, unreadable save for the slight glimmer of worry. "Are you alright now?"

Shame for his behavior roiled through Qian Meng's gut as he twisted his legs into a lotus pose, looking down at his lap. If there was one person he didn't want to show his true colors to it was the man crouching before him. Lei Hua was the only man he'd ever admired fiercely enough to do away with his brother's warnings. To ignore his father's scathing glare in favor of exchanging just a few more words with him. One more moment.

"Yes," he replied, miserably.

The cultivator hummed, taking a seat beside him and revealing a wicker basket he'd been holding behind his back. Qian Meng eyed him as he unpacked it. A freshly baked baguette. Savory white cheddar and goat cheese rolled in fresh herbs to be paired with figs and ruby red apples cut into thin slices. The kitchen had spared no expense. There was even a small jug of rice wine. The prince's mouth watered at the smell, but he didn't dare take any. It wasn't his to eat. Only when everything had been taken out did Lei Hua look up, a soft, welcoming smile gracing his lips.

"What are you waiting for? I know you're hungry."

Qian Meng swallowed hard around the lump in his throat, not daring to look the man in the eye. "It is for you, not me. They made that very clear."

The cultivator flinched, just barely. "I apologize for creating a scene back there. I would not have involved you if I knew how it would be received."

The words were sincere and uttered with lowered eyes. The prince believed him, even though the cultivator was already aware of the multitude of scars along his back. Surely, it would not be too hard to infer there were plenty of invisible ones to match.

"Do not apologize, it is nothing new."

"That does not make it acceptable," Lei Hua snapped back, almost angry.

It took a lot to repress a flinch of his own. What did the cultivator expect him to say? This was his life they were speaking of, one that he had little to no control over, save for honing his body each morning and night when he was physically able. Lei Hua seemed to be done waiting for the prince to eat first as he leaned forward. Tearing off a piece of bread to slather it with goat cheese. It looked heavenly, sending another wave of water to pool in the back of Qian Meng's throat. If only he deserved some, if only—

It was shoved into his mouth.

The prince's eyes bulged, flavor exploded across his tongue, and he almost fell backward in shock. He could do nothing but chew, cheeks staining a delicate blush pink. Lei Hua enjoyed that look immensely, so much so that he took another piece of bread, this time covering it in dripping honeyed apple slices, and held it out near his face. Qian Meng sputtered, brows shooting up as he managed to swallow the first massive serving, only to be fed another.

"You need not feed me!" He exclaimed, leaning away.

Lei Hua followed, undeterred. "Just eat it for goodness' sake!"

"Just hand it to me!"

"I'm already holding it out! It's dripping! It's dripping!"

Qian Meng had no choice but to take it, opening his mouth wide and chewing with full cheeks. Lei Hua laughed, loud and boisterous. It was the kind of laughter one couldn't help but revel in and lean toward. As if one would do anything to hear for just a second longer.

To distract himself, the prince vaulted forward and made a serving of his own, shoving it toward the cultivator's lips. The man's eyes crinkled at the corners, but he ate what was fed to him with a smile, chewing happily. It wasn't nearly as satisfying to see as Qian Meng hoped it'd be. The man was shameless! Nothing ever embarrassed him, not even being fed by another man. He said as much, scowling. The cultivator only laughed again, shaking his head.

"Why would I be ashamed? You are my friend."

Qian Meng's entire body stilled at words said so casually. My friend. It was the prince's first time hearing such a thing said about him. Is this what it felt like to have a companion? To be teased into blushing and pushed into laughter? He had to admit he secretly enjoyed it. Even so, Qian Meng ignored the man's posturing to eat some more, no longer afraid to dig in.

They ate in comfortable silence, and Lei Hua took long swigs of the wine right from the bottle, gasping in joy each time. He tried to get the prince to drink as well, but he refused. He'd never been drunk before and didn't wish for his first experience to be in front of the cultivator. The prince had had enough humiliation for one day.

"Your empire has a lot of delicate, sweet food. I quite enjoy it," Lei Hua commented, leaning back on his forearms.

It caused his hair to pool against the ground, luscious and catching the light of the sun. Qian Meng found he could not look away from the man even if he tried. It should be a sin for someone to be so effortlessly beautiful while slouched in the grass and patting their full belly.

"What kind of food are you used to?" He asked, licking his fingers clean.

The cultivator shrugged. "Bland, boiled chicken, and vegetables. Very few spices are used in our temple. Food is more of a source of fuel rather than pleasure for cultivators."

"Hm."

He supposed that made sense. In the stories he'd heard, cultivators were elegant and conservative. Slaying evil for no gain other than the knowledge that they were making the world a better place. It was a noble cause, one that Qian Meng had always admired and envied. Such thoughts brought him back to what Lei Hua had mentioned days ago.

Your soul is one of the brightest I've ever seen.

He had no idea what to do with that information. Qian Meng didn't feel particularly powerful or magical, and when he said so, Lei Hua replied that his cultivation level was too low to access it. That was why he didn't notice it before, but, with a little training, he could. At least in theory. A thrill traveled down his spine the moment he heard that he, too, could become worthy of a golden core. It was the first time in his life that Qian Meng had ever felt special. Like he had something over his twin brother who was born mere minutes before him but inherited everything as a result. Even his father's love.

"Will you teach me proper meditation?"

The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them, hanging in their air like a noose. If the cultivator said no, it would be intensely humiliating. But Qian Meng wouldn't give up now that he knew what his body and soul were capable of. He'd only have to break into the royal library to do some research. There was sure to be text after text on cultivation, perhaps even an old manual withered by time. As he was scheming, his thoughts moving faster than light, Lei Hua spoke.

"Sure, but you may be disappointed by how simple it is."

The prince paused in his inner rambling, lips parting and eyes darting to the man beside him. "Oh."

The cultivator laughed, pointing at his slack expression. "My goodness, look at your face! Why ask if you thought I'd say no?"

Qian Meng felt himself blush. He wasn't sure why this man could so elicit such a reaction from him. "I don't know. It's a knee-jerk reaction to speak my mind when I'm around you. Is that some sort of power?"

Lei Hua sat up, grinning as he clapped a hand on the prince's shoulder. "Yes, the power of charisma!"

Qian Meng scowled, leaning away. "Forget I asked."

Laughter answered him, loud and lolling like a gong. Perhaps it wasn't worth all the teasing to be taught by the likes of him. But Qian Meng suspected it'd be harder to rid himself of this man than it would be to get rid of his scars. Almost as if the cultivator was yet another one, this time branded across his soul.

"Oh, don't be like that. I'm only teasing. Now, sit up straight, close your eyes, and clear your mind."

Lei Hua's voice went from lilting to serious in the span of a second, almost rigid like a general. Qian Meng did as he was told, blowing out a long breath and emptying his too-full brain. It was rather difficult for him, but he did it eventually. The cultivator left his hand cupped on the prince's shoulder. It was the only thing that anchored him as he drifted through the darkness.

"Even your breathing, this is not a sprint. Look inward. Imagine your dantian at the base of your stomach. It is not yet cultivated into a golden core, but is wrought with yang energy."

The prince furrowed his brow, following the path of Lei Hua's melodious voice. Tunneling down into himself, through the dark, until he saw a spark of white light in the distance. Fingers came up to smooth out his forehead, and they burned wherever they touched him. Qian Meng couldn't help but part his lips on a soft gasp, shuddering.

"Calm yourself. This is just the beginning. Do not run from it, nor toward it. Allow it to guide you."

He tried, he really did, but the light grew brighter and brighter so quickly the prince felt blinded. It shone like the celestial shimmer of the heavens, burning him and forcing him to recoil, snapping his eyes wide open as he panted. Lei Hua was there to comfort him, squeezing his shoulder and whispering words of encouragement. Qian Meng heard none of them as he stared into the distance, seeing blobs of light filter across his vision as if he'd have gone blind by staying within himself for even a moment longer. It took an incense time, but when he could move his mouth without gasping for breath, he spoke.

"What was that?"

Lei Hua studied his sweaty appearance with pursed lips, face unreadable. "Your potential is limitless, and I say that with caution. The closer you get to your dantian, the more your body will recoil, afraid of the power you possess. It will take hours of slow, methodical meditation for you to even come close to it, let alone rush in as you just did."

Qian Meng nodded, swallowing hard. "So each time I meditate, I should just focus on remaining calm and emptying my mind?"

He nodded. "Yes. Seeing your power, and grasping it will come in time. First, you must condense your qi. This is the practice of absorbing natural qi from your surroundings during meditation. Always be in a place of nature with little human contact. You don't want to pull from others, and their qi is rife with their spiritual signature."

Qian Meng nodded along, wide-eyed. He was desperate for this information, absorbing it like a sponge. "Then is it dangerous for you to be here?"

Lei Hua shook his head, smiling. "Thank you for asking, but no. My abilities surpass yours. I can condense my energy without releasing it. You cannot yet."

The words were not a boost, only facts. Again, the prince nodded a little too vigorously, his excitement thrumming through him like blood rushing through his ears.

"And how often can I meditate?" He asked.

"Whenever you wish. However, I'd like to be present for the first five or so times to ensure you're cultivating correctly. How about we meet here for a shi every sunset?"

Qian Meng smiled, wide and blinding. It seemed to take the cultivator before him aback, Lei Hua's face going slack and his ruby lips parting. It was the first time the prince had shown such easy joy, and it revealed just how beautiful he was underneath his pain. Lei Hua found he wanted nothing more than to replicate that look again and again, and if becoming Qian Meng's mentor in cultivation was a way to do that, he'd grasp it and never let go.