Little Pink Starfish

A Hatred Etched into Bone

Chenmie, realizing he had stepped into death’s door, was surprisingly unafraid. He stared at Wuhuan and shouted angrily, “You were Yongsheng Temple’s young master, yet you dared consort with a mere servant and conceive a child in secret! You violated the precepts of chastity! The abbot spared your life, concealed your disgrace, and even sent you to be Zhuri’s National Advisor. And now? It’s clear—he was wrong. He should’ve never let you live!”

Wuhuan closed his eyes. The last trace of emotion in them—gone.

“Whatever the abbot sent the young master to Fengtian to do,” Chenmie continued, “he suspected from the start that you’d come too. Wuhuan, you’ve come seeking your own death!”

Wuhuan’s foot pressed down.

Pain bloomed in Chenmie’s chest. Like Chenqi, his chest burst open. His heart thudded out onto the ground, twitching briefly in a puddle of blood before growing still. It was a death that looked horrific but, mercifully, was not painful.

At the top of the stairs in the prison corridor, Yu Xiaoxiao leaned against the wall, arms crossed, and glanced sideways at the head of the imperial guards beside her. “I think… we heard something we really weren’t supposed to.”

The dark-clad commander, a man in his thirties, usually imposing and upright, looked like he wanted to dig a hole and crawl into it. The National Advisor of Zhuri broke his chastity vows?! He’d definitely be silenced. Without a doubt.

Xiaoxiao nodded, cheerful. “My dad said you knew where Wuhuan was—and you really do! Props to you!”

The commander wanted to cry. He’d seen the princess’s strength firsthand but never really talked to her until now. After a few sentences, he found himself praying she’d just stayed mute forever. “Princess,” he whispered, voice barely audible, “His Majesty knows all the foreign safehouses in the capital.”

Xiaoxiao was shocked. “My dad actually knows that kinda stuff? Huh. Go figure.”

The commander nodded. He is still the emperor, after all…

“Damn,” Xiaoxiao muttered. “I’d never have guessed.”

The commander wished he could evaporate on the spot. And what in the world did “damn” even mean?

—

Inside the cell, Wuhuan leaned against the damp stone wall. In his mind, he was no longer in Fengtian.

He was back in the pitch-black caverns of Yongsheng Temple’s forbidden mountain. Back with those twisted silhouettes screaming in agony, back in the moment someone splashed searing liquid on his face. He remembered the woman cut open while still alive, her unborn child slipping from her and into the flames…

Wuhuan took off his mask and pressed his ruined face against the cold, wet stone.

There is a kind of hate that follows a person for life—unyielding, consuming. It doesn’t rest until both the hated and the hater are utterly destroyed.

—

Xiaoxiao had waited long enough. Still no sign of Wuhuan emerging from the cell. She turned to the guard commander. “Should we check on him? What if he passed out from emotional overload?”

“Princess,” the commander begged, “perhaps it’s best we wait out here…”

More silence.

Eventually, he tried again. “Why not return to the palace for now? You can come visit tomorrow.”

“But I’m already here.” Xiaoxiao pouted.

“Wuhuan might… not be ready to receive guests,” the commander offered, grasping at anything.

“Pfft.” Xiaoxiao made a noise that sounded suspiciously like laughter. “You make him sound like some brothel’s top courtesan.”

The commander: …

“I’m going in,” Xiaoxiao said cheerfully, slapping the man on the shoulder. “You wait here.”

He nearly dropped to his knees. Some secrets will kill you!

But it was too late. Xiaoxiao snatched the silver chest and vanished in a flash, leaving the guard chief helpless in her wake.

—

Wuhuan looked up as the door creaked open.

Xiaoxiao stepped into the cell, silver box in hand. She glanced at the bloody corpses and two hearts on the floor and wrinkled her nose. “Did you really have to kill them?”

Wuhuan reached for his mask, then thought better of it. “They’re already dead.”

Xiaoxiao stared at the hearts. “Yeah. No kidding.”

“What’s that?” Wuhuan asked, nodding at the box.

She held it out. “I broke your silver mask. My dad sent this to make up for it.”

Wuhuan placed the box at his feet. “If the princess has no other business, I ask that you leave. And please thank His Majesty on my behalf.”

“Actually…”

“If you were going to ask about what Chenmie just said, don’t bother.”

“Oh, you knew I was there?”

Wuhuan offered a rare smile. “The one you brought with you—I could hear his breathing.”

Xiaoxiao gave a careless shrug. “Your master’s a scumbag.”

“Oh?” Wuhuan raised an eyebrow. “Is that truly what the princess believes?”

“I mean—yeah! So what if you broke some monk rule? Fall in love, leave the monastery, live your life. Why should you suffer for his broken ideals? Just because he wants to be a lonely ascetic doesn’t mean you have to be!”

“What does ‘broken ideals’ mean?”

“Not the point,” she replied, brushing past his confusion. “That girl you loved—is she still with your master? I’ll help you rescue her!”

“You don’t think it’s shameful? That I had a woman?”

“Huh?” Xiaoxiao blinked. “Why would that be shameful?”

“I was the young master of Yongsheng Temple. I broke my vows.”

“Sit,” Xiaoxiao said, pushing him down. “Let’s talk life.”

Wuhuan stared at her, confused but obediently sitting.

“You used to be the heir apparent of Yongsheng Temple,” Xiaoxiao counted off on her fingers. “You fell in love, got found out, and boom—Wen Fenglin took your spot.”

He nodded.

“Then it’s obvious!” Xiaoxiao huffed. “That girly-faced snitch ratted you out!”

Wuhuan asked, “Why are you so sure?”

“Duh! He gained the most from your fall. Who else would do it?”

Hearing her call him naïve, Wuhuan paused. Then, unexpectedly, he laughed. “I suppose… I was naïve back then.”

“Spill it,” Xiaoxiao leaned in, eyes gleaming. “How’d that flower-boy screw you over?”

“I told Wen Fenglin I was leaving the temple for a woman,” Wuhuan said quietly. “I told him he’d be the next young master… and I begged him to look after our master for me…”