Chapter 38: Fire in the Night

Once I let everything out, it felt like loosening a knot that had been strangling my chest for days. The air came easier. My limbs felt less heavy. And Yuling—mercifully—just listened. She didn't raise her voice, didn't recoil in judgment. She sat there, quiet, steady, letting my guilt and confusion land without flinching. That quiet understanding—whatever it was—wrapped around me like a balm.

For the first time in days, my mind didn't race the moment I laid down. No spiraling thoughts. No imaginary arguments. I drifted into sleep like I'd finally been allowed to rest.

Then came the shouting.

I woke to chaos. The sharp crackle of fire. Heat pressing against my skin. Smoke curling thick in the air, catching in my throat.

"Yuling!" I coughed, bolting upright. "Yuling, something's wrong!"

She sat up fast, hair disheveled, eyes scanning the wavering orange light outside our tent walls.

The fabric glowed.

No—flickered.

There was fire. Actual fire. The edges of the tent were curling in on themselves like burning paper.

"Ming Yu!" I cried out, scrambling to my feet, fumbling for my satchel with trembling hands.

He burst through the tent flap an instant later, expression grim, sleeves swept back like he'd been running. "Mei Lin—are you alright?"

"What's going on?" I asked, my voice shaking. "What's happening?"

"No time," he said quickly, his hand locking around mine and Yuling's. "You have to move. Now."

We stumbled out into the night—and it was worse than I expected.

Flames licked the sky. Half the tents were already ablaze. Screams rang from every direction. Soldiers darted through the smoke, trying to contain the spread, but it was already out of control. Sparks and ash floated like ghost lights through the night air.

And then I saw it—a flaming arrow. It cut across the sky in a clean, cruel arc, landing two tents away.

The impact flared up instantly.

They weren't just on fire.

They were being set on fire.

"They're attacking," I whispered, the realization hitting like a drop in my stomach. "Someone is attacking the village."

Another arrow shot past my ear, close enough that the wind it carried brushed my cheek.

Ming Yu pulled me tighter. "We have to go," he said, urgency sharpening his voice. "They're not here to threaten us. They're here to kill."

"I can't just leave," I protested, twisting in his grip. "There are patients. Children—"

"Mei Lin." His voice was low, fierce. "This is too dangerous. Your safety is my priority."

An arrow hit the dirt behind us, sending a burst of smoke and debris into the air.

"Now," he said. No hesitation. Just the edge of command.

He dragged me toward the back side of the encampment. I stumbled, still half looking back, vision blurred by smoke and tears. My feet barely kept up. The heat from the fires pulsed behind us like a second sun.

When we reached the outer wall, I didn't have time to question what came next.

Ming Yu grabbed me around the waist, held tight, and leapt.

The wall blurred past. The night air rushed cold against my face. We hit the ground and gracefully landed on the other side.

"Yuling—" I gasped.

She landed behind us a second later, as light as if she'd stepped down from a ledge. Her hair barely shifted. She nodded once, calm and ready.

Right. Cultivator. She could probably fly if she had to.

"Run," Ming Yu said, already moving.

We didn't ask questions. We didn't look back.

We ran—into the trees, into the dark, leaving behind the fire and the screams and the smell of burning wood and cloth. We didn't stop running until the fire was a distant glow behind us, flickering like a cursed star between the trees. Branches whipped past my face, thorns caught at my sleeves, and my lungs burned like they'd been scraped raw from the inside. But still—we ran.

Eventually, Ming Yu raised a hand. We slowed, then crouched low behind a dense patch of underbrush. My breath came in sharp gasps as I tried to listen past the thundering in my ears.

The forest was eerily quiet.

I turned to Ming Yu, my voice a whisper. "What the hell just happened?"

"I am not sure," he said grimly. "Whoever did this probably wants to kill all of us."

Yuling crouched beside us, face pale but steady. She didn't speak, but her eyes scanned the darkness like she was reading the shadows.

I wiped sweat from my brow, the taste of ash still on my tongue. "Why would anyone attack a plague village? That's… that's beyond cruel."

Before anyone could answer, a soft rustle echoed nearby.

Then—movement.

From the trees, a figure in black stepped out. Masked. Silent. Blade drawn.

Then another.

And another.

"Oh no," I hissed. "We're being followed?"

"Mei Lin" Ming Yu muttered, eyes narrowing. "Stay close to me."

The first man lunged.

Ming Yu moved like water over stone—smooth, fast, impossibly precise. His sword flashed once—twice—and two of the masked men collapsed to the forest floor, unmoving.

The third man tried to flank him. Big mistake. Ming Yu spun, blade slicing a clean arc through the air. The man crumpled with a grunt.

Beside me, Yuling stood in one fluid motion and engaged the other two. Her movements were fierce, practiced. Her knife sang with each strike—sharp and deliberate. She moved like someone who'd trained not just to survive, but to win.

I was useless. Frozen. Watching in terrified awe as they fought like it was second nature.

And then—more footsteps. From behind. From the left. From everywhere.

"There are more," Yuling warned, breathless but focused.

Ming Yu's jaw tightened. "They're hunting us."

My chest clenched.

He looked at me—eyes soft, voice low. "I'll draw them away."

"No," I said instantly, panic rushing in. "No, absolutely not—"

"You'll be safer if I split them off." His hand touched my shoulder, grounding me. "I will lure them away. You two can run and hide. They won't expect us to split."

"I don't care what they expect," I snapped. "You're not going off alone like some tragic hero!"

But he only gave me that infuriatingly calm smile—the one that made my heart ache.

"Yuling," he said gently, eyes not leaving mine, "please protect her."

Yuling nodded, eyes dark with unspoken understanding.

I shook my head. "Ming Yu, please—"

He stepped closer, leaned in. "I'll come back," he whispered.

And before I could stop him, he was gone—darting into the trees like a streak of silver light.

I stood there, breathing hard, rooted to the forest floor.

My heart cried out, loud and voiceless.

Come back to me. Please.

"Run" Yuling grabbed my hand tight.

We ran—again—deeper into the trees.

My legs screamed, my breath burned, but I didn't stop. Yuling led us with sharp, practiced movements, cutting through brush like she could see paths where none existed. Behind us, the night pulsed with distant footsteps. Voices. The forest was no longer our refuge—it was a trap with too many shadows and not enough places to hide.

We ducked beneath a fallen tree, crouching in the hollow beneath it, hearts pounding in unison.

Then we heard them.

Another group.

Closer this time—searching, blades drawn, their masked silhouettes slipping like phantoms between the trees.

I stared through the darkness, my thoughts not on them, but on him.

Ming Yu.

Was he okay? Was he outnumbered? Was he—

"Mei Lin," Yuling whispered.

I turned to her. Her face was calm, but her eyes were calculating.

"They're spreading out," she said. "If we stay here, they'll find us eventually."

"I know," I said, my voice small. "But we can't run forever."

She nodded once, as if making a decision. "I'll draw them away. You stay hidden."

I grabbed her wrist. "Absolutely not."

She stopped. Her hands trembled. Then she looked at me—and I saw something behind her eyes I'd never seen before. Shame. Pain. Resolve.

"I need to tell you something," she said quietly.

I blinked.

"I wasn't always just a village girl from Daqi," she began. "I was born in Luyang. My father was a minister under the previous queen."

I froze.

"But he was accused of treason when I was thirteen. They executed our family." Her voice didn't waver—but her jaw clenched. "I ran. I crossed into Daqi and survived however I could. I changed my identity. Buried the past. But I was raised in the palace. I was trained to serve and protect the royal family."

She took my hands gently in hers. "You're Prince Wei's consort. Whether real or pretend… you're still royalty. My duty hasn't changed."

Tears welled in my eyes before I could stop them. "No. You don't owe me anything. Please, don't do this."

She smiled softly, like I was something too precious to scold. She reached up and wiped the tears from my cheek with her thumb.

"If I live," she said, voice barely audible, "please don't be angry with me for this."

She leaned in and kissed me.

I froze.

Then she turned toward the darkness—and ran.

Silent. Swift.

Gone.