Chenzhu — Five Days Before Disaster
An old man was speaking with Prince Bowen inside the royal court.
> "Ever since Prince Yun's last visit, our trade with Suntze has been cut off," he said quietly.
Bowen waved him off lazily, lounging on silken cushions.
> "It's been two months. Yun will stop brooding soon enough. He *needs* us. His kingdom lives in eternal winter."
The old man nodded dutifully—then gestured toward a young girl by his side.
> "She's my daughter."
Bowen whistled, his interest piqued.
> "I thought you said you had no children, old Zhang."
The old man didn't answer.
Bowen didn't press. He took the girl.
That night, she cried in silence. Her real father—Zhang—was already in the outer district, beaten and left for dead on the roadside.
---
The next day, her body was found.
Three days later, old Zhang heard the news.
> "My wife was taken to the red-light district. My home seized. My daughter… kidnapped and dead."
He screamed. Cursed the skies. Cursed the officials. Cursed Chenzhu.
But the other men on the streets only glared at him.
> "You're not special."
> "We all lost our daughters."
> "Our wives are gone too."
Chenzhu had rotted.
The entertainment district was its only remaining attraction—every woman and girl sold to it. Every man reduced to a slave, save for the corrupt officials who profited.
---
D-Day
Old Zhang lay barely breathing on the roadside. But he woke.
Smoke.
Iron.
And the scent of blood—thick and sharp, lingering in the air like divine punishment.
Then, through the haze, he saw a lone figure walking calmly through the flames.
A figure cloaked in black. Silent. Impossibly still.
An angel, Zhang thought.
His chest ached. His breath was weak. But his voice, faint as it was, carried peace:
> "Thank you."
He closed his eyes.
> "Now… I can see them again. My wife. My daughter. And someone will finally make it right."
---
Inside the Palace of Chenzhu
Prince Yun stood in an empty court. Ash and smoke filtered in through the shattered windows.
He turned to Ruo Yan beside him and said calmly,
> "Bring me Bowen. Alive."
His voice was smooth, like honey.
But there was no sweetness—only venom laced in velvet.
Ruo Yan grinned.
> "Catch a few rats," he barked to his men. "Kill everyone. Except the prince."
As they dispersed, Ruo Yan circled Yun slowly, watching him tinker with a small, elegant weapon in his hands.
> "Could Prince Yun," Ruo Yan drawled, "share some knowledge as to what *that* is?"
Yun clicked the final piece into place and murmured,
> "My answers."
---
Bowen was dragged in, filthy and trembling. The moment his eyes landed on the scene—the smoke, the silence, the bodies—*he knew*.
True terror took him.
Prince Yun stepped forward, his posture calm. Every movement measured, every breath steady.
> "Tell me why," he said.
Bowen fell to his knees, scrambling on the stone floor.
> "W-wait, Yun—I can explain—"
Yun's voice rose for the first time, sharp and shattering:
> "Don't say that word. Explain."
Even Ruo Yan stilled.
It was the first time Prince Yun's voice was heavier than spring thunder.
Bowen sobbed.
> "Please, Yun—please forgive me. I was *pressured*! I needed to have heirs—it's important to continue the bloodline!"
Yun looked at him.
And his expression didn't change.