Chapter Text
The sky was red, with clouds dancing gracefully in the air. It was late afternoon.
At 27, Haoyu still thinks about that gruesome night daily, even if it was over a decade ago. He also thinks about his best friend, Feng.
Feng Lin.
Feng is defined as wind, and Lin means forest. Feng disappeared after that night with Haoyu's father. Haoyu has theorized over the years that his childhood best friend ran away to the forest because it is accessible, right outside the Xuan Dynasty property. Also factoring in the fact that Feng and Haoyu had always hung out in the forest, escaping the real world, escaping his father. It would be a completely reasonable and realistic place to run away. Of course, due to him being alone in those 11 years, he has only himself to theorize with. Therefore, he has to think outside the box.
Think Haoyu, think! What would other people think? I guess… it could be that… Feng was "taken care of" by his father, he considers.
…
Huh?
Haoyu questioned his delirious thoughts while sitting near the pond full of fish, with a canvas in front of him and a cup of tea on a small wooden tray next to him. He was painting Feng, trying to remember the color of his eyes before these... concepts, let's say, popped up. He can't even remember what his last guess was now. God damn it.
“That's silly," he muttered under his breath then quickly glanced around to see if anyone was reading his mind or anything.
Assassinated... by his father. My father wouldn’t do that, would he? Think… think. Assassinating… his father. That would be nice, I guess.
Hold on, why was he even thinking about this in the first place? It felt like his brain chemistry had just shifted. It sounds so utterly graphic and disgusting, but he was thinking about it, fantasizing, even. His entire life, he was repulsed with blood, guts, and violence... yet... he couldn't help but daydream about it instead of brood. What changed? Was he only not affected by it if the thoughts were about his scum of a father dying? After everything he’d done to him, he isn’t surprised that he’s content with his violent thoughts about his father anyway.
What the hell is wrong with me? he thinks, pinching the bridge of his nose.
Suddenly, his father then barged outside and thankfully interrupted Haoyu's disturbing thoughts.
"Haoyu! I need to introduce you to someone. Come here quickly and make yourself useful for once," using his name in a tone that sounded like an insult.
Speak of the devil, Haoyu thought to himself.
He glared at his elderly father. He looked weak and fragile, a skeleton of his former almost handsome self. Grey hair in a palm-sized knot behind his skull, eyes so lidded they looked almost like slits. He had high cheekbones that suited his small eyes, and a small, long beard on his chin that replaced his once cleanly shaven beard. Haoyu knew how ugly he was on the inside, however innocent his face looked. So old, yet he dared to be this rude to his only son.
Why are you speaking to me like this when you look like, with a gust of wind, you'd wither away? He insulted internally.
He took a deep breath before mumbling, "I'm coming, old man," under his breath.
He calmly got up, dusted off his hands on his black and red Hanfu, and followed the sound of his father’s walking stick clacking with the plank flooring into his soon-to-be empire, taking off his wooden slippers. The castle was gigantic. Red-wood plank walls, wooden floors, marbled furniture. Everything always looked clean, and rarely did he ever notice dust on anything. The empire was familiar with the whiff of incense. It smells even older than he is.
The maids must be overworked this year , he thought.
His father had plastered his name on anything he could, so Haoyu was reminded of the evil and vile "Wei Xuan" everywhere he went in the once peaceful castle his mother had owned long ago when the Xuan empire was the Jiang empire.
If only he was dead, or maybe even never born. My life would be easier without being reminded of his existence everywhere I go, Haoyu thought darkly to himself. Or maybe I wouldn't have a life at all. That would be better than this nightmare.
He could never say all this to his face, of course, so he had to release everything in his mind. Before he had time to wrap up his thoughts, he stood before the person his father wanted him to meet.
Wei started, "This is Princess Ai Liu from the Liu dynasty. Princess Ai, this is my son, Prince Haoyu Xuan. Heir to the Xuan throne,” emphasizing the label "Prince" like a weapon only he could wield.
Haoyu respectfully waited for his father to finish speaking before telling him, "Father, as I have stated before, please do not call me that. I dislike the name ' Prince Haoyu'. It is all too formal for me. Please, call me Haoyu, Miss–”
"Do not embarrass me, child." Wei spat, interrupting him. "We are in front of your future wife. I would prefer she has a good first impression of you."
…
There was a long and suspenseful pause. Haoyu stood there, still, and baffled. His eyes immediately widened in shock as the words “future wife” left his father's dirty mouth. Did his ears hear right? Future wife? He had never been made aware of this, and even if he had been, he would have never agreed to it in a million years. He still hadn't gotten over Feng (well, obviously because he was literally painting him earlier...), pathetically enough. If he hadn’t gotten over this guy in the last decade , what are the chances he would now over some chick he just met?
His father knows he likes men, and he made it his duty to remind him frequently throughout the years to torment him. Did Ai know when agreeing to this marriage? Does Ai even know about this arranged marriage?
He glanced at Ai, who sat her knees on a placemat at a small table with a teapot and four teacups in their respectful trays, and asked her with his eyes if she knew about this. Her face remained neutral as she made eye contact with him and stared up at him while sipping her tea. Haoyu was unable to read her through facial expression, which is rare given how naturally it usually came to him. She looked almost like a blank canvas. Strange… definitely. He frowned, then looked back at his father in anger, clenching his jaw so hard something squeaked, and he was scared his teeth might crack.
"What... is wrong with you?!" He finally got out, after a long pause.
Wei tilted his head and put on a dumb face. "Whatever do you mean, son?"
Now this really got Haoyu angry. His vision starts blurring.
He snapped, "You know what I mean! Why would you arrange this and never even mention it to me? I know you're cruel, but I never would've guessed you would go this far!" Haoyu screamed, fuming and not stuttering once. His brows pinch together, emphasizing the crease between his forehead. He could only wish to say more, but stayed patient and took a deep breath. He pushed his bangs out of his face and started pacing back and forth, stressed about this new arising problem.
Never will I have peace in this damn house.
His father remained straight-faced as he hissed, "Why, isn’t it obvious? I knew you were dense but, come on! I never mentioned it to you because I knew you would never agree to it."
Haoyu pinched the bridge of his nose. Oh, my god . This son of a…! What kind of a reason is that ? He swore he could see red, then. He then glanced back at Ai once again and squinted his eyes at her.
She had short, jet-black hair, in a badly chopped bob that looked like it was cut with a kitchen knife and a small bun behind her head. Her cheekbones were high, like his father's, and it made her cheeks look sunken in and sharp. He looked down at her clothing, she was wearing a red and green Hanfu that complimented her pale skin.
Short hair was odd for the Chinese, nevertheless Chinese royalty. Long hair on women was a symbol of femininity and beauty. Some women would grow their hair so long that it looked more like a train from their gowns than hair. He had no idea why she decided to cut her hair off, but he pushed the thought aside. That wasn't important right now. She was a pretty woman with sharp features and very put together, he had to admit it. Haoyu still was not attracted to her, however, he agreed to the fact that it would not be hard to pretend he liked her. He looked back at his father and uttered the first words off the top of his head.
"I'm ashamed to call a disgusting man like you my father."
His face turning red from pure frustration, Haoyu then turned away on his heel angrily from both Wei and Ai and stomped away. The tears welled in his eyes and blurred the edges of his vision. He used the heels of his hands to wipe the tears before they could be shed. He was outraged that his father was forcing him to marry a woman he did not know, and even more enraged that he was not told about this arranged marriage, but he could technically marry her, he thought to himself. She doesn’t look too bad.
As he walked into his bedroom, he peered behind his back and noticed that Ai was silently following him. Her pitch-black eyes focused on his and with that god-awful eerie blank expression. He was stunned to see her and jumped as he turned around.
"Why are you following me to my room? Did my father send you?", he asked, trying to stop his voice from shaking and failing, showing how nervous he was. She could definitely tell he was unsettled by that… look on her face.
"Yes, your father did send me," Ai answered flatly. But for whatever reason? She cut the answer short and left out crucial details that Haoyu was craving to know. Before Haoyu got the words out, as if Ai had read his mind, she continued, "Although, your father sending me wasn't the only reason I had decided to follow you, if that’s what you wanted to know from me. I need to talk to you, Prince Haoyu.”
She seemed almost… stiff. Puzzled but intrigued, he commented,
"Uh…" He hesitates, trailing off. "As I said. Call me Haoyu. 'Prince' is too formal." Haoyu welcomed her after sliding open his bedroom door and sat down with place mats beneath their knees. Finally, he urged her hurriedly,
"So… what did you want to talk to me about, Miss?"
There was a short pause of almost… static, as Ai was robotically thinking about what to reply with. "Your father... he is a cranky old man and does not have many years to live left."
Haoyu scoffed, "Tell me something I don't know. What about him?"
"You hate him, don't you?"
Haoyu nodded silently. Where was this going?
"So let's get married." She paused, then continued, "And kill him," the princess offered with a monotone.