Chapter Text
Yu Zihan had been in Anye Luo’s dungeon for about a week now, with Anye Luo visiting him at least once a day. He was not a discourteous guest. He could be coaxed into fairly polite conversation, though never at length; he didn’t glare much, or strain at the chains holding him up on his knees even though Anye Luo knew very well how painful they had to be. Usually Anye Luo would have found all of this very boring, would have considered him a broken man and ready to be discarded. There were a few factors in this case that held him back from making such a judgment.
Most notably, even though Yu Zihan didn’t spit insults or flaunt bravado, he had remained rebellious in other ways. He still refused to even consider an alliance with Anye Luo.
“You’re being far too stubborn,” Anye Luo told him. “I’ve offered you good things, haven’t I? I can heal your legs and strengthen your body. I can give you the position of crown prince with your cooperation. I’ll even agree to let alone Lie Ruge, if she’s still alive. And I can help you reunite with her. Perhaps I could even help you win her. Isn’t this a good offer? Has anyone ever made you a better offer than this?”
Yu Zihan said, “I don’t want what’s not mine.”
“But these are all things that could be yours. You even have a right to them. You’re a better option for crown prince than the princes of Jingxian or Jinyang. As for Lie Ruge, you’ve always been her best ally. Always protecting her, until now.” Anye Luo’s eyes narrowed. “If I want to kill her, it’s a matter of time until I succeed, unless I should change my mind. Don’t you want me to change my mind, prince of Jingyuan?”
But Yu Zihan would only look at him sadly and immovably. Resolute.
Anye Luo thought this was foolish, of course. “You know, if you don’t join me, I will kill her eventually. As for you, I have no reason to release you if you are of no use to me. You might rot in this dungeon forever. I’m giving you a chance to leave here stronger than ever before, to live happily—don’t you think you should cooperate while I’m being nice?”
Yu Zihan apparently didn’t think so.
His stubbornness was one of the things that attracted Anye Luo to him. That and the fact that he was really rather clever; for proof of that you only had to look at how he’d been handling the Wo pirates and all the trouble he’d given the prince of Jingxian over the years. There were other things that made Anye Luo want him too: The fact that he was a disciple of Flaming Hills, and Anye Luo enjoyed stealing things from the sect that had stolen his own beloved; the fact that, even dirty and bloody and wrapped in chains, he still had quite a lovely face and figure…
In any case. Anye Luo enjoyed their conversations but he was about ready to wrap all of this up. He wanted Yu Zihan to join him as an ally, not as a prisoner, and keeping him locked up and miserable clearly wasn’t going to convert him. Besides, a prince couldn’t go missing from his military camp for too long without anyone noticing, and Anye Luo didn’t want anyone to suspect his and Yu Zihan’s little rendezvous. It was time to move more decisively.
If he couldn’t get to Yu Zihan with words—neither threats nor bribes availing—he might still be able to sway Yu Zihan with actions.
Yu Zihan asked, when he was taken out of the dungeons, where he was being taken. “Sect Leader wants you” was the response. He didn’t ask anything further, doubting that a Dark River subordinate would reveal their master’s intent, doubting that they would even know their master’s intent in order to tell it.
He wasn’t taken to Anye Luo right away. First he was brought to a warm bath and allowed to wash himself, which he supposed was a luxury but still made him worried. That, combined with a set of fresh robes that he was given afterwards, indicated a change in Anye Luo’s approach to him, and while Yu Zihan didn’t enjoy being chained up in a dungeon, at least they’d established a sort of routine there. He knew how to endure that sort of treatment—all he had to do was mostly stay silent and still and imagine he was somewhere else. If Anye Luo wanted to play a new game, he only hoped he’d be able to follow.
In the end he was brought to a set of rooms that appeared to be Anye Luo’s chambers, deposited at a table across from Anye Luo, and abruptly abandoned.
Anye Luo poured him a cup of tea. “You clean up nicely, prince of Jingyuan. Well, I could have guessed that.”
Yu Zihan asked, “What do you want?”
Anye Luo laughed. “You already know what I want. Here, you should eat and drink before we talk. I know I haven’t been feeding you well enough. Forgive me my discourtesy.”
He really hadn’t been feeding Yu Zihan well, and the food on the table was much nicer. Roasted meat and vegetables, pastries… Yu Zihan’s stomach was turning, though. He would have far preferred some simple rice, which was nowhere in sight. He settled for a pastry that was almost like a sesame seed cake. Ge’er, I hope you’re still out there. I hope you’re doing well. And he sipped the tea. It had a medicinal flavor to it that reminded him of winters with the best doctors his father could find hovering over his bed. A flavor with comforting connotations, except that it had been given to him by Anye Luo, who had a hungry look on his face that was focused on Yu Zihan rather than the food.
“I’ve been thinking a lot about you, your highness. Really I’ve come to regret the way I’ve been treating you. After all, I want us to be friends. Of course you won’t listen to my promises yet when you have no reason to believe them or to trust me. Here’s what I think: there’s no need for you to swear allegiance to me yet! I’ll cure your legs freely first, and you’ll see what a good gift it is.”
Yu Zihan frowned. “I don’t…”
“Shh. No need to say anything yet, your highness. Just drink your tea.” Anye Luo leaned forward, conspiratorial. “I’ll cure you freely first, and let you have a taste of true happiness. I think you won’t want to give it back once you’ve had it, and then you’ll see how much better it is to have me as a friend than an enemy.”
There were several things wrong with Anye Luo’s proposition. Most offensive was the implication that Yu Zihan was incapable of being happy without Anye Luo curing his legs or helping him; the implication that Yu Zihan had never been truly happy, which he disagreed with greatly… then there was the slight threat accompanying it, but that was typical of Anye Luo, so hardly shocking. Both of these were not worth arguing with, though. Anye Luo hadn’t listened to any of Yu Zihan’s arguments for all the duration of his captivity and Yu Zihan doubted he’d start doing that now. So Yu Zihan just said, “Please don’t bother.”
“It’s no bother,” Anye Luo said. “None at all. To gain your favor, this is simply something I should do.”
“You can’t,” Yu Zihan said—Anye Luo really couldn’t gain his favor, not with what he’d done to Flaming Hills and to Lie Ruge. No matter what he promised, it wouldn’t change his nature, or make his offer more acceptable.
Anye Luo wasn’t smiling anymore. “I can’t? Prince of Jingyuan, I think you’ll find I can do what I want with you.” He nodded at Yu Zihan’s cup. “I see you’ve finished your tea. Do you need more?”
Yu Zihan wasn’t thirsty, but it was better to drink than to talk. He lifted the cup to check—there was still a little tea left at the bottom—and it slipped out from his fingers to the table. It didn’t crack, the fall having been slight, but the last couple drops spilled onto the tablecloth.
Yu Zihan’s fingers were numb.
Anye Luo hummed. “You don’t need much more. Maybe a little.” He picked up the cup and, having refilled it, walked around to Yu Zihan’s side of the table and brought the cup up to Yu Zihan’s lips. “Here.”
He clearly knew about the numbness, which was spreading from Yu Zihan’s fingers down his arm, so that he could not reach up and push Anye Luo’s hand away. The tea had been drugged, then. This was not surprising, not after the way it had tasted. Yu Zihan had suspected, but there had been no way to refuse to eat or drink, not when Anye Luo was right—he really could do anything he wanted to Yu Zihan here, in Dark River Palace, with Yu Zihan alone and weakened by days of poor treatment, unable to even flee with his wheelchair left miles away where Yi Lang had captured him. If he wanted to drug Yu Zihan, of course he could; he could poison him, too, if he wanted to. So there was no reason for Yu Zihan to refuse to open his mouth now, except that he hated the gall of it, Anye Luo’s hand so close to his face, the self-assurance in his tone as if he had every right to treat Yu Zihan this way, his certainty Yu Zihan could not object. Yu Zihan kept his mouth closed.
Anye Luo shook his head. With his free hand he grasped Yu Zihan’s jaw, pried his mouth open just enough to pour the tea in. His hand was warm and callused and very strong. Yu Zihan swallowed—it wasn’t worth the indignity to try to spit the tea on the floor.
Anye Luo smiled at the return to compliance and patted him on the head. “There. The medicine has already started working on you now. We can begin the treatment in just a moment.”
“What,” Yu Zihan asked, with a tongue that was slightly numb as well, “are you doing to me?”
“I told you that already too. I’m going to cure your legs, prince. The basic cause of your paralysis is that energy can’t get through to your body below the waist—the medicine will start reconnecting certain channels, clearing up blockage. Of course I also added something to relax and numb your body, because I will also have to work on your acupoints, and I suspect you wouldn’t let me otherwise. Normally I could hit certain acupoints to paralyze you, but this process wouldn’t work as well if I did that. I hope your highness will forgive me.”
“You don’t care about my forgiveness,” Yu Zihan said, and immediately he regretted the bitterness of it. Anye Luo had already seen him cry, already knew his weak points, but showing him more emotion was still a stupid thing to do.
“Of course I care,” Anye Luo said, eyes wide and innocent. “We’re going to be allies, after all. Well, I’m sure you can forgive me in time. You’ll see. This is a good gift I’m giving you.” He nodded. “We can start now.”
He began by carrying Yu Zihan over to a bed in the next room over, where he let Yu Zihan down as gently as a cherished bride. The comparison was not a bad one because he proceeded to unfasten Yu Zihan’s robes and take them off, layer by layer. There weren’t as many layers as Yu Zihan would normally have worn—he’d noted this earlier when the clothes had been given to him after his bath, and assumed Anye Luo couldn’t be bothered to provide too much for a prisoner. Now it became apparent that it had been more out of concern for ease of access to Yu Zihan’s body.
Yu Zihan didn’t protest. There was no point in protesting. Until Anye Luo got down to the last layer, thin white underrobe and pants, and began to lift up the underrobe as well. Then he said, “Is that necessary?”
“I need to work on your acupoints,” Anye Luo said.
“Surely this would not obstruct you.” Plenty of doctors had worked on his acupoints before without fully stripping him—maybe if Anye Luo planned on using needles it would be different, but as far as he could tell, Anye Luo had none on him.
“Better to be precise. It’s delicate work, and you’re an important patient.” The underrobe was brought up, baring Yu Zihan’s chest, and Anye Luo carefully worked his limp arms out of it as well, then lifted it over his head.
He took the pants off carefully as well. Perhaps a bit slower than he needed to, less efficient. It seemed to Yu Zihan that his hands lingered too long, especially on Yu Zihan’s thighs. He couldn’t feel them, at least; he had very little feeling in his body below the waist. At a time like this, he supposed it was a mercy. But he could still see Anye Luo’s slow, deliberate hands, and the intent look on his face. He still looked hungry. Not the professional attitude of a doctor at all.
When he had finished undressing Yu Zihan, he let out a satisfied sigh. “Hm. I did say your highness cleaned up nicely.”
Yu Zihan, who had expected he at least would pretend disinterest, swallowed and did not respond. Anye Luo grinned and, taking hold of his shoulder and waist, rolled him over on his stomach. “The acupoints I need to work on start at the base of your spine.” And that was indeed where his fingers touched, low on Yu Zihan’s back. He didn’t poke fast and hard, the way Yu Zihan might have struck to disable an enemy, but slow and deliberate, though still with force. Yu Zihan could feel energy emanating from the touch, sinking into his flesh. Dark energy, not like the type cultivated by Flaming Hills techniques. It hurt. It might have hurt him more if his body weren’t numb already. He breathed hard, ragged. Anye Luo soothed him as he continued to push new acupoints, going lower down little by little. “There, there. It will hurt but it’s healing you. It won’t take too long.”
It was not a comfortable medical treatment, but not so different from treatments Yu Zihan had experienced in the past—at first. Then he began to feel a strange feeling. It was like the opposite of the numbness taking effect; sensation rather seemed to spread, quietly, into places it had not been before. The energy was spreading lower than he could usually feel. He gasped at the realization of it. Or maybe it was just at the pain. The strangeness and the pain blurred together; his body was hot and cold, numb and energized, all too overwhelming for him to completely understand.
He heard Anye Luo’s voice continue its calm monologue, sometimes soothing and sometimes hissing in frustration, even when he could no longer feel or at least process the feeling of his fingers. Then he was rolled back over onto his back, and Anye Luo was standing over him. He looked a little worn out.
He touched Yu Zihan’s forehead. “Fever. That’s good,” he remarked. “You’ll be burning up for a couple days, but it’s a sign that the treatment worked. I’ll keep you here until you’re stable, and then we can send you home, and you’ll be able to walk. …I wonder where I should keep you, though? If I put you back in the dungeon like this, it won’t be good for your recovery. You might even die.” This noted casually; Yu Zihan’s death would be a minor inconvenience. He stroked his chin. “I suppose I should just keep you here with me,” he said, clearly delighted with this conclusion. “After all, you need some peace and comfort, and I should really keep an eye on you. Yes, you can just stay here. Would you like that, Yu Zihan?”
Yu Zihan was tired. The right answer was probably “no”. The honest answer was that the thought of having to leave this bed hurt, but he certainly couldn’t admit that. He blinked up at Anye Luo and hoped he passed as too feverish to answer, not too emotionally drained.
Anye Luo patted his cheek. “We should take your hair down. I’m sure your head hurts.” He did just that, hands carding a little too happily through said hair. “Don’t worry, prince of Jingyuan. I’ll take good care of you.”