Red candles wept waxen tears; the gauze canopy swayed gently. This was the wedding night, the hour of the nuptial cup and the binding rite. Yu Xuanhe’s slender fingers tightened around the embroidered cuffs of his wedding robes, their gold-threaded trim gleaming; beneath the crimson lapels, his collarbone rose and fell in faint glimpses.
Xie Lin’s ceremonial hair crown had been removed by his own hands when they shared the cup; now his black hair spilled loose over his shoulders, brushing against the curve of Yu Xuanhe’s neck. “Xuanhe tonight, I am yours at last.” There was a smile in Xie Lin’s voice, yet his fingers curled stealthily around the silver buckle of the pendant belt at Yu Xuanhe’s waist.
The candle flared into a blossom of flame, casting light into the depths of Yu Xuanhe’s eyes but no hue could be read there. No desire, no affection, no emotion of any kind. “Mm.”
A sudden cross-breeze swept in through the window, and stray strands from Yu Xuanhe’s temple tangled against Xie Lin’s throat. Xie Lin burned all the hotter. He yielded, soft and yearning, burying himself against Yu Xuanhe’s chest; his hands wandered, slowly drawing the collar of the wedding gown aside to reveal the perfect skin beneath. Yu Xuanhe lived up to his name fair as jade, graceful as a crane.
“Xuanhe kiss me, won’t you?” Xie Lin pleaded, his gaze lifting, imploring, eyes fixed on the chiseled line of his jaw.
“Very well.” Yu Xuanhe replied, yet there was no joy, no eagerness of a new bridegroom in his tone. His countenance was so cold and impassive one might have thought him attending a funeral. Xie Lin did not mind; if anything, he cherished Yu Xuanhe’s cool detachment for it was a grace and nobility uniquely his.
Fingertips tilting Xie Lin’s chin upward, Yu Xuanhe looked straight at him eye to eye, nose to nose, heart as if meeting heart. Did he truly love the man before him? True, Xie Lin was the one he had treated differently from all others.
He recalled the first time they met even before he had come to Xie Lin’s aid, he had accepted a mission from his father to save lives. But back then he had been too young, too unyielding; when a companion proved a hindrance, he had struck without hesitation. In the end, not a single soul had been saved. He remembered his father’s fury for the sake of mortals, the first time he had ever been so angered. Head bowed, enduring the rebuke, Yu Xuanhe’s fingers idly plucked at the crane tassel hanging from his sash.
“Xuanhe? Do you dare drift away while I speak? Do you still believe you did no wrong? We are crane immortals; we know not the full measure of human passion but we are immortals, born to shelter all living things, to shield mortals! Look at you! What have you become? You slew them because they slowed you what did you save in the end?”
“I… I fulfilled the mission, Father. Mortals are frail, weak they could not have escaped. And they are foolish…” The word died on his lips as he met his father’s blazing gaze. He stood firm, his voice steady and solemn: “Father, your charge was to vanquish the fiend and rescue the mortals. I deemed they hindered me in slaying the beast. Once the fiend was dead, no mortal would suffer at its hands again so vanquishing it was the true priority; saving them was secondary. If they could not be saved, it was because they lacked the strength to save themselves.”
“You!” The Crane Immortal was stung, his face darkening. A father’s failure as much as his son’s, he had always upheld the ways of virtue; yet he did not give way to blind rage. He steadied himself, his voice calm but sharp as a blade: “Yu Xuanhe, a glib tongue is no vice but wrong remains wrong. You have cast aside all I taught you of cherishing mortal life. Fault must be punished. In the Western Sea lies a lair of evil, where mortals are held captive. Go. Rescue them, and destroy the corrupt ones who hold them.”
Relief flickered he thought his father’s anger had passed. “I shall obey, Father.” He bowed deeply.
The Crane Immortal looked down upon him, his eyes pitiless, his words a sentence: “If even one mortal is returned harmed, your immortal bones and spirit roots shall be stripped. No longer shall you wear this form you shall become a beast, scorned even by mortals.”
Yu Xuanhe started he had never imagined such severity. He accepted the charge solemnly, steeling himself beneath his cold exterior, he would learn to feign tenderness. Xie Lin was the first to know that pretense.
Lost in memory, he had forgotten Xie Lin waiting beneath him. “Xuanhe? Xuanhe?” Xie Lin’s tone held no resentment only the soft urgency of a nervous groom. “What were you thinking? I asked you to kiss me…”
Yu Xuanhe roused himself. “Forgive me.” He leaned down to oblige. Their faces drew near, lips nearly meeting when suddenly, before his eyes, rose the image of Ji Youyou. She was weeping, calling to him: “Yu Nu… save me… save me…”
She was becoming a phantom in his mind each plea a poison both sweet and fatal, paralyzing him even as it kindled longing. Torment, sharp and unrelenting.
“I am sorry!” He thrust Xie Lin away.
Xie Lin stared, bewildered, hurt rising in his chest. “Xuanhe?”
Only then did Yu Xuanhe realize his roughness. He pressed a hand to his throbbing temple, his tone even, distant: “I ask your pardon. That was unworthy. Let us sleep, Lin’er.” Before Xie Lin could speak, he moved to the bed and lay down, straight and still.
Xie Lin swallowed his grief, drained the wedding wine in one bitter draught, and curled beside him, holding him close through the night. So their wedding passed joyless, half-spent.
The third watch. Deep in the night.
Yu Xuanhe opened his eyes. One name alone filled his mind Ji Youyou. He turned to Xie Lin, sleeping soundly beside him. Gently he disengaged himself, arranged his hand, and slipped from the Jade Palace. He knew he must go to her, to that sorceress, Ji Youyou.
He did not know the moment he rose, Xie Lin’s eyes fluttered open. He had not slept. He heard every footfall, and in the dark, a smoldering flame took root in his heart.