Domain Expansion

The next morning, while Wuxian attended his morning meeting, Xiaohei slipped away through the palace corridors. His footsteps slowed as he approached the nursery, the air growing noticeably colder. The door was ajar, and through the gap, he could see the Dragon Empress sitting motionless in his rocking chair.

Taking a deep breath, Xiaohei entered the frozen room. Ao Bing didn't react to his presence, his vacant eyes fixed on some distant point, his fingers mechanically stroking the baby blanket in his lap.

Xiaohei carefully moved around the room, his cat-like grace helping him avoid disturbing anything. He examined the overturned crib, the scattered toys, the frost-covered furniture - all exactly as it had been left that terrible night. But nothing seemed to offer any new clues.

As he turned to leave, something caught his eye - the blanket in Ao Bing's hands. Moving closer, careful not to startle the catatonic Empress, Xiaohei examined the fabric. There, along one edge, was an obvious tear, as if a piece had been deliberately cut or ripped away. The edge was too clean to be accidental.

Xiaohei searched the room again, looking in every corner for the missing piece, but found nothing. Frustrated, he headed for the door - only to collide with someone in the hallway.

"Oof!" Xiaohei stumbled back, finding himself face to face with a young boy with black hair pulled up into two small buns. The boy's eyes narrowed suspiciously.

"What were you doing in there?" the boy demanded, his voice carrying an authority that seemed at odds with his youthful appearance.

"I- I was just..." Xiaohei's tail twitched nervously as he tried to think of an explanation. The boy's presence was intimidating despite his size, and something about him seemed familiar, though Xiaohei couldn't quite place it.

The boy crossed his arms, waiting for an answer. His intense gaze made Xiaohei feel as if he were being examined by someone far older and more powerful than the child-like figure before him suggested.

"Your Majesty!" Wuxian's voice rang out in the hallway, making Xiaohei's ears perk up in surprise.

The boy's smug expression as he watched realization dawn on Xiaohei's face said everything. This was Ne Zha - the Heavenly Emperor himself - in his child-like form.

"I-I'm so sorry, Your Majesty!" Xiaohei dropped into a deep bow, his ears flat against his head in embarrassment. "I didn't realize-"

Wuxian hurried to his side, placing a steadying hand on Xiaohei's shoulder. "Please forgive my apprentice, Your Majesty. He's still learning proper palace etiquette."

Ne Zha waved off the apologies with a casual gesture, but his eyes remained fixed on Xiaohei. "You still haven't answered my question. What were you doing in the nursery?"

"The boy was just curious, Your Majesty," Wuxian began smoothly. "He's heard so much about the search for the prince and wanted to-"

"I think I might know where the prince is!" Xiaohei blurted out, unable to contain himself any longer.

The hallway fell deadly silent. Ne Zha's casual demeanor vanished instantly, replaced by an intensity that seemed to crackle in the air around him. Even in his child-like form, the sudden shift in his presence was palpable.

"What did you say?" Ne Zha's voice was barely above a whisper, but it carried such weight that Xiaohei felt his knees wobble.

"Xiaohei, enough!" Wuxian reprimanded him sharply, clamping a hand over Xiaohei's mouth, cutting off his excited words. "He's just a child with an overactive imagination-"

"Let him speak," Ne Zha commanded, raising his hand. Despite his small stature, the authority in his voice was unmistakable. "I want to hear what he has to say."

Wuxian reluctantly removed his hand, and Xiaohei, suddenly nervous under the Emperor's intense gaze, swallowed hard.

"I... I found a doll, Your Majesty," he began, consciously choosing to omit any mention of Long Niao. Something made him want to keep the beautiful youth's existence secret until he was more certain. "Hidden under some floorboards in a house in the mortal realm. It had purple hair, like in the painting of the prince..."

He trailed off as he watched Ne Zha's expression darken. The Emperor's small hands clenched into fists at his sides, and the temperature in the hallway began to rise.

"A doll?" Ne Zha's voice was dangerously quiet. "You dare come to me with this... this nonsense about a DOLL?" His voice rose to a shout at the end, making Xiaohei's ears flatten against his head.

"Your Majesty, I-"

"Do you think this is a game?" Ne Zha demanded, his child-like face contorted with fury and pain. "Do you think I want to hear about every purple-haired toy in the mortal realm? I need real leads, not false hope over something as STUPID as a doll!"

Xiaohei flinched back, bumping into Wuxian who placed both hands protectively on his shoulders.

"Your Majesty, I apologize for my apprentice's thoughtlessness," Wuxian said quickly, bowing deeply and forcing Xiaohei to do the same.

Ne Zha turned away from them, his small frame trembling with barely contained emotion. "Get out," he ordered, his voice rough. "Both of you, leave. Now."

Without another word, he pushed open the nursery door and disappeared inside, leaving Xiaohei and Wuxian alone in the hallway. Through the doorway, they could see him approach Ao Bing's motionless form, his anger melting into grief as he reached for his husband's unresponsive hand.

As Wuxian hurriedly led him away, Xiaohei's tail drooped with shame and frustration. He hadn't meant to upset the Emperor - he'd only wanted to help. But now he wondered if he should have mentioned the doll at all, especially without telling them about Long Niao himself.

Determined to uncover the truth, Xiaohei positioned himself on a nearby roof the next morning, his black cat form allowing him to watch the house unnoticed. Hours passed as he observed the comings and goings, his tail twitching with impatience.

Finally, Long Niao emerged into the courtyard. Xiaohei's heart clenched at the sight - the youth's usual grace was marred by pain as he moved, his arms and legs mottled with dark bruises. His long black hair was loosely tied back, revealing more bruising at his neck.

Niao made his way to the pond, each step seeming to cost him great effort. When he reached the water's edge, his legs gave out and he collapsed to his knees. With trembling hands, he began to remove his outer robe.

Xiaohei had to suppress a growl at what was revealed. Angry red welts crisscrossed Niao's back and shoulders - fresh whip marks layered over older scars.

"Must train harder," Niao muttered to himself, his voice rough with exhaustion. "Must be stronger... must be better..." He dipped his hands into the pond water, splashing his face as if trying to wash away more than just sweat.

Xiaohei padded forward, letting out a soft meow. The change in Niao's expression was immediate - the darkness lifting from his features as he spotted the white cat.

"You came back," he said softly, his smile gentle despite his obvious pain. "Have you been worried about me, little friend?" He reached out to stroke Xiaohei's fur with a shaking hand.

Carefully, mindful of his injuries, Niao lifted Xiaohei into his arms and walked to the base of the tree they'd climbed together. He looked up at the branches longingly, but winced as the movement pulled at his wounds.

"I can't climb today," he told the cat, sliding down to sit at the tree's base instead. "Father says I need more discipline in my training. That I'm too weak, too soft." He settled Xiaohei in his lap, his fingers absently running through the black fur.

"You're so lucky," Niao continued, his voice growing drowsy. "You can go wherever you want, be whatever you want. No walls to keep you in, no rules to follow..." His words began to slur as exhaustion overtook him. "Sometimes I dream that I can fly away too... high above the clouds... where the air feels like home..."

As Niao drifted off to sleep, his head resting against the tree trunk, Xiaohei transformed back to his spirit form and whispered, "Where would you go if you could?"

"The ocean..." Niao murmured sleepily, the words barely audible.

Making sure they were truly alone in the courtyard, Xiaohei closed his green eyes and concentrated. The air around them began to shimmer and shift as he activated his domain expansion - a rare ability he'd inherited from his lineage.

The courtyard melted away, replaced by an endless expanse of beach. Waves lapped gently at the shore, and a salt breeze carried the cry of seabirds. Within this domain, Xiaohei's power was absolute, allowing him to create this perfect illusion of Niao's desired destination.

Niao's eyes fluttered open, confusion giving way to wonder as he took in his surroundings. He rose slowly, his earlier injuries seemingly forgotten in this dream-like state. His long black hair lifted in the ocean breeze as he knelt to touch the sand, letting it run through his fingers with childlike fascination.

"This feels so real," he whispered to himself, taking a step toward the water.

"It's only as real as you want it to be," Xiaohei said softly, standing a few feet away.

Niao's reaction was instantaneous. He spun around, dropping into a fighting stance with fluid grace. Before Xiaohei could blink, Niao had closed the distance between them, launching into a series of precise, lightning-fast strikes.

Xiaohei's eyes widened at the display of skill. Niao's movements were incredible - each strike and kick flowing into the next with deadly precision. But this was Xiaohei's domain, and here, he was untouchable. He weaved and dodged, never striking back, letting Niao's attacks pass through him like smoke.

After several minutes of futile attacking, Niao jumped back, his chest heaving with exertion. "What are you?" he demanded, his voice hard with suspicion. "Why can't I hit you?"

"We're in my domain," Xiaohei explained, his white hair and cat ears moving gently in the spectral breeze. "I have control here."

"Those ears and tail..." Niao tilted his head, studying Xiaohei. "There was a white cat too, recently. Was that-"

"This is just a dream." Xiaohei interrupted smoothly, his tail swishing behind him. "Dreams often mix together different things we've seen."

Niao seemed to accept this, turning back to the ocean. The breeze lifted his long black hair, and for a moment, his jade-white skin seemed to glow in the dream-light. "But I've never seen the ocean before," he mused. "How can I dream of something so... perfect?"

Xiaohei watched him carefully. "You live in a coastal town. How is it possible you've never seen the ocean?"

"Father doesn't let me leave the house," Niao replied simply, his voice carrying a resigned acceptance that made Xiaohei's heart ache. "The courtyard is as far as I'm allowed to go."

Xiaohei wanted to press further, to ask about the purple-haired doll and the marks on his back, but something in Niao's expression made him pause. The youth's face had softened as he watched the waves, a peace settling over his features that Xiaohei had never seen before.

Instead of questioning him, Xiaohei sat down in the sand, waiting. The waves crashed rhythmically against the shore, filling the silence between them.

Finally, Niao spoke, his voice distant as if lost in memory. "I saw a picture of the ocean once, in an old book when I was small. Ever since then, I've felt... drawn to it. Like it's calling to me somehow." He wrapped his arms around himself. 

"Why don't you just go?" Xiaohei asked, watching Niao's reaction carefully. "The real ocean isn't far from your house."

Niao shook his head, a flash of fear crossing his features. "Father would never allow it. The consequences would be..." he trailed off, one hand unconsciously touching the wounds on his back.

"I have someone like that too," Xiaohei offered, thinking of Wuxian's constant admonishments. "But I still go wherever I want anyway."

A small laugh escaped Niao, though it held little humor. "That's not possible for me. Father... his control is absolute. And besides," his voice dropped to barely a whisper, "I have nowhere else to go."

The sadness in those words hung heavy in the salt air of Xiaohei's domain. He looked at Niao - really looked at him - and saw not just the ethereal beauty that had first caught his attention, but also the cage of fear and isolation that held him captive.

"Is he really your father?" Xiaohei asked quietly, watching Niao's profile against the setting sun.

Niao tensed, opening his mouth to respond when a harsh voice cut through the air: "Long Niao!"

Xiaohei quickly dissolved his domain, snapping them back to reality. Niao blinked at the sudden transition from beach to courtyard, his eyes widening as he watched Xiaohei dive behind the tree just as his father stormed into the courtyard.

"What are you doing sitting here?" the man demanded. "You should be training!"

"Yes, sir," Niao responded automatically, his eyes fixed on the ground. All the peace from moments before had vanished, replaced by rigid tension.

"Yes, sir," the man mimicked mockingly. "That's all you ever say. How do you expect to improve if you waste time daydreaming under trees?"

"Yes, sir. I'm sorry, sir."

Behind the tree, Xiaohei shifted nervously, accidentally causing a branch to crack under his foot. Both Niao and his father turned toward the sound.

"Father, wait-" Niao started, stepping forward, but the man shoved him roughly aside.

"What's back here?" he demanded, striding around the tree only to find a white cat sitting primly on the ground. His face contorted with disgust. "You again?! How many times must I chase you mangy creatures away?"

He aimed a kick at Xiaohei, who easily jumped to a low branch, just out of reach. The cat settled on the branch, wrapping his tail around his paws and giving the man what could only be described as a smug look.

The man's face reddened with anger. "Long Niao! Stop consorting with vermin!" He turned on his heel, storming back into the house. "If I catch any more cats around here..."

Once he was gone, Niao turned back to the tree, holding out his arms. Xiaohei jumped down, but before he hit Niao's arms, he transformed back into his spirit form, landing lightly on his feet.

"So," Niao said, crossing his arms, "not a dream after all?"

Xiaohei laughed nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. "Ah... about that... I can explain?"

"Please do," Niao replied dryly. "Starting with why a spirit cat has been watching me and creating magical domains to show me the ocean."

Xiaohei hesitated, unsure how much he should reveal. "I... I was just curious about you," 

Niao's expression darkened. "Curious?" he repeated, a hint of bitterness in his voice. "So you've been spying on me?"

"Well, I wouldn't exactly call it spying..." Xiaohei said, his tone light and evasive. "I mean, I've just been, you know, keeping an eye on things. Making sure everything's alright, that's all."

Niao scoffed, clearly unconvinced. "And why would a scrawny little cat spirit like you care about that?"

Xiaohei's tail swished back and forth, his expression turning more thoughtful. "I don't know... I just thought you looked like you could use the company. Staying out here by yourself all the time seemed lonely."

Niao's eyes widened slightly, caught off guard by Xiaohei's response. "Lonely?" he repeated, the word foreign on his tongue.

Xiaohei nodded, his green eyes soft with understanding. "Yeah, lonely. I know what that feels like, you know?" He shrugged, "Figured maybe we could be... I don't know, friends or something. Keep each other company."

Niao stared at him, seemingly at a loss for words. The open vulnerability in Xiaohei's expression had clearly struck a chord within him. After a moment, he sighed, some of the tension leaving his shoulders.

"You should stop coming here," he said, his voice low. "It's not safe."

But Xiaohei ignored the warning, returning day after day in his cat form, sometimes bringing small treats or just sitting with Niao as he worked. Eventually, Niao's resistance began to crack.

One afternoon, after checking that his father was occupied elsewhere, Niao turned to the white cat sitting on his windowsill. "Xiaohei... could you... could you do something for me?"

Xiaohei transformed instantly, his ears perking up with interest. "Anything!"

"Could you take me back to the ocean? Like before?"

"Why don't we just go to the real ocean?" Xiaohei suggested excitedly. "It's only a few li away-"

"No!" Niao's response was sharp with fear. "I can't- I can't disobey Father like that. But in your domain... technically I'm still here, right? Please?"

Unable to resist Niao's pleading look, Xiaohei activated his domain expansion. The courtyard melted away, replaced by the familiar beach. Niao immediately began moving through complex martial arts forms, his movements fluid and precise despite the sand under his feet.

Xiaohei lounged on the beach, watching Niao train. His friend's dedication was impressive, but something about it seemed desperate, almost fearful.

"Why do you train so hard?" Xiaohei finally asked.

Niao's movements faltered slightly. He continued his forms for several more minutes before finally stopping, his chest heaving with exertion. "Because..." he began reluctantly, "because I have to kill someone. Someone very powerful. If I fail... Father says we'll both die."

Xiaohei sat up straighter, his tail twitching with concern. "Who? Who could be so important that-"

"The Heavenly Emperor," Niao said quietly, his eyes fixed on the horizon. "Ne Zha."

Xiaohei felt as if all the air had been knocked from his lungs. He stared at Niao, his mind racing. The purple-haired doll, the hidden abilities, the strict confinement, the mysterious "father" - suddenly, pieces began falling into place with horrifying clarity.

"Ne Zha?" Xiaohei managed to whisper, his voice barely audible over the sound of the waves. "But... why?"

Niao's face was a mask of resignation and something deeper - something that looked almost like grief. "Father says it's my destiny. That I was born for this purpose."

"But that's impossible!" Xiaohei sputtered, jumping to his feet. "Ne Zha is the most powerful being in existence! He's the God of Fire, the ruler of the heavens! You can't possibly-"

"I have to," Niao cut him off, his voice firm despite the slight tremor in his hands. "This is what I was born for. What Father has prepared me for my entire life."

"But why?" Xiaohei pressed, his tail lashing with agitation. "Why does Ne Zha need to die?"

Niao opened his mouth, then closed it again. His brow furrowed as if he were trying to remember something important. "Because... because he's evil," he finally said, though the words sounded rehearsed. "Father says he needs to be dealt with. That it's the only way."

The uncertainty in Niao's voice made Xiaohei's heart clench. 

Later that night, back in their quarters, Xiaohei paced his room restlessly. Several times he started toward Wuxian's study, his mouth opening to reveal everything he'd learned. But each time, he stopped himself.

If he told Wuxian, the information would immediately go to Ne Zha. The Emperor would send guards, or worse, come himself. And then what? Would they kill Niao, thinking him a threat? Would they arrest him before Xiaohei could prove who he really was? And what about Niao's father? He might kill Niao himself if he felt his plan was discovered.

No, Xiaohei decided, sinking onto his bed. He couldn't risk Niao's life by telling anyone yet. Instead, he needed to help Niao see the truth for himself. He needed to show him that Ne Zha wasn't the monster he'd been taught to fear.

But how could he convince someone who'd been indoctrinated since childhood? How could he undo years of manipulation without putting his friend in danger?

Xiaohei curled up on his bed, his tail wrapping around himself protectively as he pondered his next move. He had to find a way to help Niao discover the truth while keeping him safe.

Back in the palace, in the frozen nursery, Ne Zha sat beside Ao Bing's chair, his child-like form making him appear even smaller next to his husband's statuesque figure. Frost collected on his clothes, but he barely noticed the cold anymore - it had become as familiar as his own heartbeat after all these years.

"Another year, A-Bing," Ne Zha whispered, gently brushing a strand of ashen hair from his husband's face. His fingers lingered on Ao Bing's cheek, still as smooth as jade despite the years of immobility. "Another year, and I still haven't found him."

The dark circles under Ne Zha's eyes spoke of countless sleepless nights spent searching, of endless dead ends and false hopes. His normally bright, mischievous face was drawn with exhaustion and grief.

"It's all my fault," his voice cracked as tears began to well up. "I had the shot. I could have stopped the kidnap right then, but I hesitated. I was afraid of hurting Ao Lui, and instead..." He choked back a sob. "Instead, I lost you both."

Ne Zha's small hands clutched at Ao Bing's robes, his tears falling onto the frost-covered fabric. "What kind of father am I? What kind of emperor? I can't even protect my own family."

The silence in the room was deafening, broken only by Ne Zha's quiet sobs. Ao Bing remained motionless, his vacant eyes fixed on some distant point, the baby blanket still clutched in his frozen fingers.

"Please," Ne Zha begged, his voice barely above a whisper. "Please come back to me, A-Bing. I need you. I can't... I can't keep facing this nightmare alone. Our son is out there somewhere, and I need you by my side to find him."

But Ao Bing gave no response. No flicker of recognition crossed his beautiful features, no hint that he heard his husband's desperate pleas. The frost continued to swirl around him, an eternal winter that matched the frozen state of his heart.

Ne Zha stood slowly, his small form seeming to carry the weight of all the heavens on his shoulders. He leaned forward, pressing a gentle kiss to Ao Bing's cold cheek.

"I love you," he whispered. "I'll find him. I promise."

With one last look at his unresponsive husband, Ne Zha turned and walked toward the door. Each step seemed to cost him tremendous effort, as if leaving Ao Bing alone in this frozen room was physically painful.

At the doorway, he paused, his small hand resting on the frame. For a moment, he looked back, perhaps hoping to see some change, some sign that his words had reached through Ao Bing's frozen grief. But there was nothing.

The door closed behind him with a soft click, leaving Ao Bing alone once more in his eternal winter, clutching the torn blanket of their lost son.