“How could you leave me…?”

“I didn’t want to!”

“You left me… to die…”

“I didn’t! I promise you I didn’t!”

“Hou Jingshu… why did you leave me?”

Hou Jingshu awoke with a gasp, shooting up ramrod straight in bed. She placed a hand over her heart and took several heaving breaths. Each one sounded like a rasp in her ears.

Her back was covered in sweat. The liquid soaked through her nightgown and made it cling to her skin. Her forehead, neck, underarms, and even underboob were similarly sweaty.

Once she had her breathing under control, Hou Jingshu glanced around the room, taking in the tasteful but minimalistic decor. She was in the captain’s cabin of the Jun Family’s personal airship. This place would have normally been given to Yu Chenguang since he was the highest ranking member of the army, but he had acceded it to her in deference of her position as the Shang Kingdom’s first and only princess.

“Another nightmare, this one was particularly bad.”

Hou Jingshu had been having nightmares ever since news of the Wu Clan’s destruction reached Shang Imperial City. They had been horrible at first. She had woken up screaming each night, but she eventually got used to them, until they were just another part of life, another burden to shoulder.

“I wonder why this one was so bad?”

Yet even as she thought about it, she knew the answer. Jian Wu. The one time she had seen his face was when she was delirious with poison, so she didn’t know what he looked like underneath that mask, but everything about him reminded her of Wu Jian. The way he acted, the way he spoke, and the quiet confidence he exuded all reminded her of her dead lover.

She had been doing her best to deny her hope that Jian Wu was actually Wu Jian. Nothing but heartbreak lay beyond that door. The man she was set to marry was gone along with his entire family. Him. Wu Meiying. All of them were no more. Hou Jingshu could not allow herself to fall into a false hope. That would break her.

For a brief moment, she thought about trying to get some more sleep, but she knew the moment she set her back down on the sheets covered in her sweat that sleep would be impossible. She climbed out of bed. There was a bucket of water and a cloth that she used to clean herself off. She only grimaced a little as she wiped the sweat from her underboob.

Really. These things were such a pain. No one seemed to realize how annoying it was to sweat under there. It wasn’t like armpit sweat, which could be wiped off easily. She had to disrobe to clean it off, and that meant she often had to put up with the sweat until she could find the time to bathe.

Hou Jingshu finished cleaning off, donned a thicker set of robes than her nightgown, and left the room. She thought about putting on her shoes but decided not to. The sound of her bare feet padding down the hall echoed around her as she found the stairs leading onto the deck.

A brisk chill made Hou Jingshu pull the robes tighter around her body. She shivered as goosebumps formed on her skin. Maybe she should have put on shoes. Too late now.

She walked further out and observed the deck. It was a quiet night. The only sound was that of the wind as their ship sailed along its current. A plethora of stars shone brightly overhead.

She wasn’t alone. Aside from the few sailors who had night duty, there was one young man leaning on the railing, his masked face looking in a certain direction. Hou Jingshu walked over to him, wondering what he was looking at, but then she realized it when she saw the two mountains shaped like a magical beast’s fangs.

He’s looking in the direction of Zahn City. Is this just a coincidence?

“Jian Wu,” she said.

“Hey. Couldn’t sleep?” he asked.

She shook her head as she stopped beside him. “Nightmares.”

“Me too.” He paused. “It was… about my family.”

“Do you often have nightmares about your family?” she asked softly.

He nodded. “Every night without fail. I’ve gotten used to them by now, but I guess this one was particularly bad.” He turned away to look back at the mountains. “They were all dead, but their corpses rose from the grave. I still remember how they stared at me, their eyes filled with hate as they asked why I abandoned them. I tried to tell them I didn’t, but they just kept repeating themselves. Then they grabbed me and pulled me into the darkness. I woke up shortly after that.”

“I’m so sorry. I had no idea you had to deal with that,” her voice cracked.

“Thanks. I’ve never actually told this to anyone before.”

“Not even Huǒ Shuchang?”

“Hah! That idiot would just make fun of me if I said something.”

Mentioning Huǒ Shuchang seemed to put Jian Wu in a better mood. She felt a brief flash of jealousy, but she quickly dispelled it. What was wrong with her?! Why was she getting jealous of a man?!

“What was your nightmare about?” Jian Wu asked curiously, but then he shook his head. “I’m sorry. That was a thoughtless question. You don’t have to answer it.”

“It’s okay. I don’t mind answering. Only one other person really knows about my nightmares. Perhaps telling someone else will do me some good.”

Hou Jingshu had been bottling up these feelings for the past several months, ever since her journey to the White Tiger Sect Ruins began. The one she normally spoke to about this was Zhou Lihua because she went through the same problems. But Zhou Lihua wasn’t here right now, and Hou Jingshu felt like she might go crazy if she kept these feelings locked away for much longer.

“My nightmare… was similar to your own. It wasn’t my family, but the boy I loved.” Hou Jingshu paused to bite her lip as the remnants from that night’s dream returned. “You already know about Wu Jian, my former fiance. I saw him in my dreams. He… kept asking why I left him to die, and no matter how much I tell that I didn’t want to leave, he keeps repeating his accusations over and over again.”

Recalling her nightmare was hard, but it was also liberating. She did feel a little awkward telling this man about it, though, as he reminded her so much of Wu Jian.

“He must hate me now,” Hou Jingshu murmured as she stared at the Twin Fang Mountains. They were passing by underneath them now.

Silence reigned between the two of them for a time, but Jian Wu eventually shifted to more fully face her. Hou Jingshu could see nothing of his face. However, his kind brown eyes were visible behind the two holes in his mask.

“Wu Jian would never be mad at you. That’s impossible,” he said with such certainty that she was taken aback.

“Thank you for saying that… but there’s no way for you to know how he would feel.” Hou Jingshu hugged herself. “If I were the one who had been left behind, I know I would resent Wu Jian. He must have hated me toward the end. I abandoned him. I wasn’t there when he needed me the most.”

Her honest thoughts sprang forth without consent and tears began leaking from her eyes. She had always felt incredibly guilty over all of this. It wasn’t the Wu Clan’s destruction that truly upset her, but the fact that she had not been there when it happened. She didn’t even care if she died alongside of Wu Jian and Wu Meiying that night. She just wanted to be there with them, to let them know they were not alone.

Jian Wu said nothing for the longest time. His silence unnerved her. Was it because of her tears? She looked away and wiped at her eyes. He must have thought she was weak for allowing herself to get so worked up like this. She was ashamed of herself.

“I know,” he said quietly.

“E-excuse me?” asked Hou Jingshu.

Jian Wu hesitated for a moment, then raised his hand, hesitated once more, and plunged it into his training gi. She wondered what he was doing, but then she gasped when he pulled out a very familiar pendant. The necklace was made of a silvery necklace that looked like glimmering threads reflecting starlight. It was the pendant, however, that had her attention. Bright and flawless green sparkled and shimmered in the night, seeming to glow with a strange, otherworldly power. She only knew of one necklace in the world that was like it.

Her heart was pounding. It felt like it was trying to break free of her chest.

Her throat was dry. It was like she’d gone days without water in the middle of the desert.

Her eyes felt blurry. Were those tears stinging them?

She looked from the necklace to the young man holding it out to her, then back to the necklace. It looked like he was holding it out for her to take it. She didn’t do that. After looking back at the masked face, she reached past his extended hand and toward his mask. Her fingers brushed against the cool, smooth surface, then found purchase on them.

Or they would have.

But a hand grabbed one of her wrists.

Hou Jingshu bit her lip and slowly withdrew her hand. “I’m sorry—”

She tried to apologize, but Jian Wu grabbed the hand she had retracted. She stared at his mask as he looked away.

“… Not here. Let’s go somewhere more private.”

Was he telling her that he would let her see underneath that mask so long as they weren’t in public? That was what he was saying, wasn’t it? She wasn’t hearing things?

Hou Jingshu didn’t know if he would change his mind, so she grabbed his hand tight and dragged him along behind her. She was mindful of the sailors working. However, she was also in a rush. She almost slammed the door open in her haste and raced down the stairs, through the hallway, and to the captain’s cabin. The door almost broke as she opened it.

Her heart was hammering so fast as she stepped into the bedroom and pulled Jian Wu toward the center. She almost forgot to close and lock the door in her haste. Her vision seemed a little blurry. Was it lack of sleep or excitement that caused spots to appear before her eyes? Perhaps it was worry. She was incredibly afraid right now.

She began taking several deep breaths as she stood facing the doorway. She could feel Jian Wu’s presence behind her. His eyes on her back were like branding irons, marking her. The staccato rhythm of her heart danced to the tune of her increasing anxiety and made everything so much harder to deal with.

And yet she still turned around. She turned around because even as anxiety and fear warned her not to hope, hope had still blossomed in her chest.

Jian Wu remained standing where she had put him. She hadn’t noticed it at first, but he looked uncomfortable. He kept clenching and unclenching his hands, shifting his feet, and looking around like he didn’t know where to look. The pendant—her pendant—was still in his hand, dangling from the chord as it twined around his fingers. Small glimmers blossomed inside of the jade every time it moved.

That just made the hope in her chest bloom more fully.

She walked up to him, stopped when there was just a few chih between them, and raised her hands. She grasped the mask covering his face, but she didn’t immediately pull it apart. The cold surface gave her a slight chill.

“Is it… okay?” she asked.

“M-mmm,” he mumbled, nodding.

Hou Jingshu took a deep breath, then slowly removed the mask.