Rising Phoenix

She knew that people like him only ever showed their brilliance, always hiding their sadness from view.

When she had stood in front of the crystal she could see no way forward, but as she stepped back, she retreated into the crystal beauty’s embrace. She must have touched something for the crystal beauty’s arm suddenly began to move and the crystal wall silently slid open.

When Feng Zhiwei turned back to examine the crystal statue, the beauty’s posture had changed, with her arms hugging herself and her beautiful head tilted slightly upwards, adding a degree of seduction.

Feng Zhiwei paused for a moment in surprise, unable to ward off the feeling that the new posture was ever so slightly creepy and dirty. Even though the crystal beauty was only a statue its mien was still one of elegance and nobility, and this new stance seemed to sully that aura.

With the crystal wall no longer barring her way, Feng Zhiwei found herself standing inside an artificial mountain, the crystal wall’s outer layer painted a light green shade of moss. The peculiar paint only allowed light through one way and had completely hid her from view, so it was no wonder that Feng Zhiwei had not noticed her.

Now that the crystal wall had slid open, Ning Yi finally reacted and turned.

He looked back through the curtains of rain, staring down at her from the bridge’s peak.

The rain fell like lines of silk, and there she stood at the bottom of the bridge, staring up at him.

Their gaze interwove with the falling rain, forming a fine, careful tapestry of emotion.

If their gazes were like silk threads, then at this moment it had also become threads of rain, shapeless, colorless, cool, and lasting, unable to be cut or pulled apart, linked together like the heavens and the earth.

After a long moment, Ning Yi began slowly moving down towards her, stepping methodically down the bridge, grasping the railing. Rain streamed down his cheeks, lending his hair an even darker black, thickening his imposing brows, and deepening the brooding emotion in his eyes. His lips were so pale that in the wetness of the downpour they seemed to lose all their warmth.

The capital teemed and prospered, but here he was alone and helpless.

Ning Yi reached Feng Zhiwei and his mouth moved to form a question when he spotted the crystal wall behind her. His expression instantly transformed as he dashed forward, moving around Feng Zhiwei and entering the tunnel.

Feng Zhiwei was somewhat disturbed by Ning Yi’s ghastly pale face and his reaction to the crystal wall, and when she turned she saw Ning Yi staring dumbfounded at the crystal beauty, biting his lips and squeezing all the blood out of them.

He stared at the statue with pain and yearning and happiness and remembrance, all of his emotions merging into an indescribably complex gaze, and as Feng Zhiwei turned from the man before her and the beauty on the wall, she finally understood.

Ning Yi stared for a long while before finally stepping forward with extreme caution, his hand trembling as he reached forward as if to touch the statue’s face. He extended his fingers carefully, as if afraid that even the slightest bit of strength might shatter the moment like a dream.

But with this step, Ning Yi’s eyes took in more of the statue and he finally noticed the crystal beauty’s peculiar posture.

Ning Yi paused again and took a closer look.

Sudden anger flooded from his eyes like the raging sea before a coming storm, the surging waves rearing and roaring, smashing down against the shore as if trying to flood the heavens with their raging.

“Cha!”

A white light flashed like a bolt of lightning and shattered through the air, dazzling the eyes. Feng Zhiwei stepped back in shock, already lamenting the death of the priceless crystal treasure.

She stepped, her trod cracking the scattered crystal pieces below her. Across from her stood a Ning Yi, his hair fanning out around him as he supported himself against his sword.

The crystal wall was half ruined but the statue was completely intact. Ning Yi had held back at the last minute, unable to destroy a crystal statue that might be the last in existence.

He stood there leaning against his weapon for a long moment, his long eyelashes drooping. With Feng Zhiwei’s angle, she could only see the lines of his delicate and pale jaw.

Feng Zhiwei could hear nothing except her own breathing, and Ning Yi’s unmoving paleness deeply worried her, and she could not stop herself from stepping forward to do something.

But just as she reached Ning Yi’s side, he suddenly collapsed.

Thunder cracked overhead as the fierce downpour drenched the already slippery mossed ground lining the artificial mountain. Feng Zhiwei laboriously carried Ning Yi out of the tunnel, and as soon as she poked her head out of the hole she was immediately drenched.

She wiped futilely at her face, silently cursing herself. Really, why had she hidden in the tunnel? What a waste of effort, she was always fated to be soaked.

After cursing herself, she cursed Ning Yi. Really, why did he have to be so dramatic all of a sudden? Couldn’t he just maintain his cool and calm facade? Looks like he still had to take some notes from her!

A palace room stood beyond the yard, and though it was old and abandoned it was at least clean and dry. Feng Zhiwei looked out of the tunnel at her distant goal, imagining some medicine stored within that might be able to help Ning Yi. After examining the unconscious Ning Yi, Feng Zhiwei felt she could do nothing but carry him out of the tunnel.

The pouring curtains of rain was an almost solid wall, pooling on the ground and filling the mossed pond, dimly reflecting the silhouette of a slim and delicate figure laboriously carrying another person, marching forward step by step.

Though the building was not far, she trudged along a long while before she finally reached her destination, overcome with relief as she felt a pillar against her skin, the rain completely blotting out her sight.

Letting out a breath, she twisted the lock, opened the door, and carried Ning Yi inside. Grey cloth covered everything in the dim room, and at first glance the grey shadows seemed like so many silently crouching beasts.

Feng Zhiwei moved Ning Yi towards a chair. The man was so soaked that he would soon be sleeping in water if she moved him to the bed, so she could only settle for a chair, covering the man head to toe with a quilt before taking his pulse.

Feng Zhiwei frowned at his wrist. Ning Yi had not caught a cold from the rain nor fainted from heartache; his lung and spleen were badly injured, and his pained heart and intense emotion must have brought back pain from an old wound. If not quickly treated, this problem would lead to countless trouble.

His Qi was frigid, and she had to scatter the cold or else his old wound would worsen.

Feng Zhiwei stood in the dim room and stared up at the ceiling, thinking. Finally, she closed her eyes.

She reached under the quilt and began stripping Ning Yi.

Feng Zhiwei moved as fast and efficiently as she could, but she could not help but slow the further she got, her ears flushing even as her hands continued to move.

Wet clothes fell in a pile on the floor, and just by their number one could tell that all the clothes that could be removed in company were removed, and all those that could not be removed were also removed.

Feng Zhiwei began retracting her hands from the quilt when she suddenly stopped.

His smooth and cool skin had given way to roughness, and as her hands hesitantly investigated, she could make out an extremely ferocious scar.

This was probably the old injury that had brought on the unconsciousness, but as a royal son and lineal descendant of the Emperor, how had he gotten such a terrible wound?