June Fourth: She is my woman.

Lingran was drifting in and out of consciousness, her life hanging by a thread, when she suddenly felt the grip on her neck loosen and she was thrown to the ground.

She hurriedly clutched her neck, scrambling backward across the floor, too terrified even to cough. With tears brimming in her eyes, she looked up and saw that another person had appeared, standing with his back to her, blocking the monster’s path. He was shrouded in black from head to toe. If not for the bright moonlight, she wouldn’t have been able to make him out. It seemed to be the bronze-faced man who had accompanied the monster that night.

This bronze-faced figure must be a good person, she thought in her panic. At least he didn’t kill the innocent. Unable to hold back any longer, Lingran finally coughed twice.

The man slowly turned his head.

Lingran immediately froze, staring at him wide-eyed, her mind going blank.

He wore no bronze mask. His long hair fell smoothly over his shoulders, and the moonlight illuminated a face as fair and flawless as jade, so perfect it took one’s breath away. In that moment, his entire being exuded an aura like the Lord of the Underworld himself—seductive, demonic, and utterly otherworldly...

It was Prince Xiang, Chu Yu!

A surge of anger welled up within Lingran. She didn’t know where the strength came from, but she leapt to her feet, pointed at him, and shouted, “Lunatic—” She’d barely spat out the word before remembering who she was dealing with. She immediately clutched her neck again, pretending the pain had robbed her of speech, though inwardly she continued to rail: “What a lunatic! Haunting his own home like some ghost—he must be out of his mind!”

“Yu-wa and the rest are all bad people!” the old monster said to Chu Yu, his tone almost petulant as he suddenly darted past him and appeared before Lingran. “I’ll kill her! I’ll kill them all!” He raised his hand.

Lingran didn’t have time to react before Chu Yu seized the old monster’s arm, speaking gently as though coaxing a child, “Master, have you forgotten? This is the girl who sang for you that night. Haven’t you been wishing to find her every day?”

So this madman was the prince’s master, and the two of them seemed to share a deep bond—a truly strange sight.

The old monster’s rage dissipated at once, and he muttered to himself repeatedly, “The girl who can sing... the girl who can sing...”

“Yes,” Chu Yu replied.

The old monster stared unblinking at Lingran and stepped toward her.

Lingran thought to step back, but at a glance saw Chu Yu standing shrouded in his black cloak, his expression alert. That gave her some reassurance, so she tipped her chin up and glared at the old monster.

“Hee-hee!” The old monster, having recognized her, clapped his hands delightedly and said, “It really is you! Last night I was looking for you—where did you run off to? Quick, sing for me!”

His mood changed so quickly it was dizzying. Cold sweat beaded on Lingran’s brow as she glanced from Chu Yu to the old monster.

Chu Yu, for once, showed none of his usual impatience. “Master, once you hear her sing, will you go back with my fellow disciples?”

“I won’t go back!” the old monster protested, hopping in front of Chu Yu. “Are you worried I’ll trouble your father again? Is he all you care about now? What am I, your master, to you?”

Chu Yu seemed weary of his barrage of questions and didn’t answer, but turned to Lingran and said, “Hurry up and sing!”

Lingran’s throat still ached. She wanted to refuse, but fearing Chu Yu’s unpredictable temperament and worried he might truly abandon her, she could only brace herself, clear her throat, and ask, “What should I sing?”

“Do you know many songs? I want something nice—something beautiful!” The old monster hopped over again.

Resigned, Lingran cleared her throat and began to sing:

“Don’t ask me where I come from,
My homeland lies far away.
Why do I wander,
Wander so far,
Wander far away.”

This song might have sounded ordinary under different circumstances, but singing it now, forced as she was, she thought of her own lonely, rootless existence—her life more pitiful than that of an orphan. When she reached the lines about wandering, sorrow overwhelmed her and she began to choke up.

The old monster grew quiet the moment she started singing. Seeing how entranced he was, Lingran dared not stop and continued:

“For the little birds flying in the sky,
For the clear streams between the mountains,
For the vast grasslands,
I wander far away,
I wander.”

Two clear tears rolled down her cheeks, chilled by the wind as she finished the song and stood there dazed.

“For the vast grasslands!” the old monster suddenly grew agitated. “That’s why I wander... Ah, girl, you sing so beautifully!”

Lingran saw him bounding toward her and wanted to run to Chu Yu’s side, but the old monster had already grabbed her. Luckily, this time he only held her gently by the shoulders and said, “It seems you’re a sorrowful soul, too. We share the same fate. From now on... I’ll never bully you again! Will you play with me?”

“Master!” Chu Yu called.

“Yu-wa is no fun!” the old monster shouted back. Turning to Lingran, he said, “You know, ever since he became a prince, he’s become less and less fun... No, ever since he grew up, he’s been no fun at all. Girl, from now on, will you keep me company?”

Lingran thought this old monster must have his own story. When he wasn’t fierce, there was something of the mischievous old child about him. And since he always recognized Chu Yu, he clearly wasn’t the sort to lose himself completely to madness. So she nodded.

The old monster was overjoyed and, as if greeting an old friend, slung his arm around her shoulder and turned to Chu Yu, saying, “I’ll take this girl with me—I don’t want to play with you anymore.”

“No,” Chu Yu suddenly interjected.

The old monster was about to lose his temper when the sound of shuffling feet filled the courtyard and two figures emerged from the darkness.

They were both young men, hair done up in Daoist knots, dressed in white robes, swords slung across their backs—one handsome, the other unremarkable. They bowed with cupped hands to the old monster and Chu Yu, and said in unison, “Disciple Gao Nanjian.” “Disciple Ye Nanxiang.”

“Greetings, Grandmaster. Greetings, Uncle Chu.”

They bent respectfully at the waist.

Chu Yu responded with a soft “Mm.”

Seeing these martial figures, Lingran’s bright eyes flickered from Chu Yu to the two young Daoists. How interesting, she thought. So aside from being a prince, Chu Yu’s seniority within his sect must be considerable. But she still didn’t know which sect they belonged to.

The old monster, arm still around Lingran, was about to leave, grumbling, “Let’s go, let’s go. Girl, if you sing for me every day, I won’t come here anymore. Yu-wa doesn’t welcome me anyway.”

The two young Daoists looked startled. The more handsome, Gao Nanjian, hurriedly said, “Grandmaster, women are not allowed in the Daoist sanctuary. Master is waiting for you.”

“Is your master older than I am?”

Gao Nanjian replied helplessly, “Of course you are senior, Grandmaster.”

“Then you have to listen to me!” The old monster paid them no heed and started to drag Lingran toward the direction from which the two young Daoists had come.

Lingran had no idea whether this was a blessing or a curse, or whether she should go with him. She hesitated.

Suddenly, Chu Yu blocked their path and said to the old monster, “Master, you cannot take her.”

The old monster leapt in frustration. “Why not?”

“Because she is my woman.”

Before Lingran knew what was happening, she had been pulled into the folds of his cloak, her whole body pressed against his chest. Her hand landed on his bare skin, making her face flush crimson as she struggled to break free.