The Pavilion of Rising Dragons was ridiculous.
It was the assigned living quarters for "high-ranking" tournament participants. It featured walls made of silk, floors made of heated jade, and a ceiling fresco that depicted dragons eating people who didn't pay their taxes.
"It's too big," Jiang Fan complained, walking into the main living lounge. "If I want to go to the bathroom, I have to pack a lunch for the journey."
He dropped his bag on a velvet chaise lounge and flopped down.
"System. Set objective: Sleep for twelve hours."
[ Error. Hostile Units Detected. ]
Jiang Fan opened one eye. "Hostile units?"
He looked up.
Princess Zhao Ling hovered over him in her Golden Lotus Pod. Gu Ling sat next to her in her Spider-Chair.
They exchanged a look. It was a conspiratorial look. A dangerous look.
"Jiang Fan," the Princess said, her voice dripping with exaggerated fatigue. "The journey was so long. The vibrations of the engine... my poor, fragile spine is vibrating."
"My diagnostics indicate thermal throttling," Gu Ling added, keeping a straight face. "I need to power down my chassis for maintenance. Immediately."
Jiang Fan blinked. "Okay? So... go to bed? The bedrooms are right there."
He pointed to a door about twenty feet away.
"It's so far," the Princess sighed, putting a hand to her forehead like a dramatic opera singer. "And my pod is low on mana. I fear I might... faint."
Click.
She hit the emergency release on her pod. The golden petals opened.
"Oh no," she whispered, leaning forward, looking helpless. "I am unseated."
Clank.
Gu Ling hit a button on her wrist. Her spider-legs retracted and the wheels locked.
"System shutdown," Gu Ling announced monotonically. "Mobility offline. Initiating 'Damsel in Distress' protocol."
They both looked at Jiang Fan. They looked at his arms. Then they looked back at him with expectant, mischievous smiles.
Jiang Fan stared at them.
"You have got to be kidding me."
THE HEAVY LIFTING
"I am the Supreme Elder," Jiang Fan grumbled, standing up and cracking his back. "I defeated General Boru. I tricked the Heavens. And now I am a glorified rickshaw."
He walked over to the Princess first.
She reached out her arms, smiling sweetly. "Be gentle, driver. I tip well."
Jiang Fan shook his head, fighting a smile. He slid one arm under her knees and the other behind her back. She was light—royalty apparently didn't eat much carb-heavy food—but her legs were dead weight, flopping against him as he lifted her.
"Up we go," he grunted.
As he lifted her out of the pod, the Princess wrapped her arms around his neck, burying her face in his shoulder. She inhaled the scent of him.
"You're warm," she whispered, the teasing dropping for a second.
"You're bony," Jiang Fan retorted, walking toward the massive plush divan in the center of the room. "We need to feed you more of Su Qing's soup."
He gently deposited her onto the cushions. She sprawled out, her paralyzed legs arranging themselves awkwardly. Before she could feel self-conscious about it, Jiang Fan simply reached out and straightened her legs for her, adjusting her dress so she was comfortable.
It was a casual, practiced motion. No pity. just maintenance.
"Five stars," the Princess grinned, propping herself up on her elbows. "But I might need a glass of water later. You stay close."
Jiang Fan rolled his eyes and turned to Gu Ling.
"Your turn, Iron Queen. Did your battery really die?"
"No," Gu Ling admitted shamelessly. "But the leather on this chair is sticky. I want the couch."
She raised her arms.
Jiang Fan bent down. Gu Ling was heavier than the Princess—her muscles were dense from forging, and she had trace amounts of spirit metal woven into her spine.
He scooped her up. Gu Ling didn't cling like the Princess. She held onto his collar firmly, analyzing the biomechanics of his lift.
"Your deltoids are tense," she noted, her face inches from his. "You are carrying tension in your upper trapezius."
"I am carrying two women who refuse to walk," Jiang Fan corrected, carrying her over to the divan.
He placed her next to the Princess.
"There," Jiang Fan wiped his hands. "The cargo is delivered. Can I resign now?"
"No," the Princess patted the empty spot between them. "We need a heater. Sit."
Jiang Fan looked at the spot. He looked at the two beautiful, paralyzed women who were currently ruling his life.
He sighed, defeated, and sat down between them.
Immediately, the Princess leaned her head on his left shoulder. Gu Ling, not to be outdone, leaned on his right shoulder, pulling out a datapad to read.
It was a pile of limbs, silk, and exhaustion.
THE JEALOUS MAID
Yun Xi walked into the room carrying a tray of tea. She stopped.
She looked at the pile on the couch.
Her eye twitched.
"I see," Yun Xi said, her voice dangerously calm. "So the requirement for cuddles is spinal damage?"
She set the tray down on the table with a loud clatter.
"I have been carrying the luggage. I cleaned the bathroom. I secured the perimeter. And yet, I am the only one standing."
Jiang Fan looked up from the human sandwich he was trapped in.
"Yun Xi," he said seriously. "Come here."
Yun Xi crossed her arms. "Why? Do you need me to peel a grape for your harem?"
"No. My legs are tired."
Jiang Fan held out his arms toward her.
"Carry me?"
Yun Xi froze. The Princess giggled. Gu Ling smirked behind her datapad.
Yun Xi's face turned bright red.
"You... you possess working legs, Master! You are shameless!"
"I am conserving energy for the tournament," Jiang Fan reasoned. "Come on. Just a piggyback ride to the fridge."
Yun Xi huffed. She turned away to hide her smile, picking up her broom.
"I will carry you to the arena tomorrow," she muttered. "And I will throw you into the ring. Drink your tea."
THE STRATEGY SESSION
The mood shifted as night fell. The teasing settled into a comfortable, quiet intimacy.
Snack, the Void-Eater, was asleep on the Princess's paralyzed legs (finding them to be an excellent, non-moving mattress).
"We need to talk about the bracket," Gu Ling said, projecting a hologram from her wrist onto the ceiling.
[ Tournament Roster ]
Group A: The Imperial Guard Elites.
Group B: The Northern Wolf Clan (led by General Boru's angry brother).
Group C: The Shadow Sect (Assassins).
Group D: "The Nap Time Association" (Sector 01).
"They put us in the death block," the Princess noted, tracing the lines on the ceiling with her finger. "Group D has the 'Sword Saint of the East'. He hasn't lost a duel in forty years."
"Sword Saint?" Jiang Fan yawned. "Is he fast?"
"He cuts sound," Yun Xi said from the corner, sharpening her mace. "Legend says he draws his sword faster than the thunder follows the lightning."
"Sounds noisy," Jiang Fan frowned.
"The objective is the Dragon's Heart," Su Qing said softly. She was sitting on the floor, organizing her herbs by scent. "To get it, we must win the Team Melee first. Then the individual duels."
Jiang Fan looked at his team.
A maid with a mace. A blind alchemist. Two women who couldn't walk without machines. And a cat.
"They are going to underestimate us," Jiang Fan murmured. He felt the Princess's hand gripping his sleeve, and Gu Ling's weight against his side.
He remembered the look on the Princess's face when she fell on the stairs. He remembered Gu Ling's story about her father throwing her away.
"Good," Jiang Fan said, his voice dropping to a low rumble.
He reached out and patted the Princess's leg—the dead limb that she hated so much.
"Let them look at the chairs," Jiang Fan said. "Let them look at the broom and the blindfold."
He closed his eyes, leaning his head back against the cushion.
"By the time they realize what you really are... it'll be too late to surrender."
The Princess looked at him. She covered his hand with hers, interlacing their fingers.
"And what are we, Jiang Fan?" she whispered.
Jiang Fan smiled, drifting off to sleep.
"Expensive," he mumbled. "We are very, very expensive."