Chapter Text
Clearly, someone in one of the four families had placed these papers – But, why Jia Baoyu? Baoyu was preached to be the most promising and the prettiest jade of the family (whatever that meant), but no one had really ever seen him. Even the papers pinned to various buildings and vendors failed to have any sort of description or depiction to them.
A boy, nearly 20 years of age, sat by his bedside in the darkness of the night. He did not light his bedside candles, for he feared the shadows would grab him, and he did not enter his freshly made bed, for he hated to disrupt the smooth surface and the work that was put into straightening his sheets.
He let out a petite sneeze – A sound that he had been trained to let out upon needing to do such an improper action, and sniffled as a slow rush of cold air hit his whole.
Ah... His window wasn’t supposed to be open.
The boy got up with a bit of effort having been seated for so long, and walked over to his window. The intricately designed sill windows swung gently with the wind, and the boy took a single second to appreciate the fresh breeze before moving to close the window.
He felt his fingertips touch the edge of the window at the same time he felt a cold blade reach his neck.
The boy cocked his head to the side and looked down, feeling the blade cut into the top layer of his skin.
“J.B,” a female voice spoke behind him, and the boy was shocked to find someone else in his palace bedroom.
He stepped back, accidentally stepping on the woman’s foot, and turned around to face her, nearly getting his neck slit from the encounter.
“Hello,” he smiled, and the woman reoriented her blade against the boy’s neck. He didn’t seem to be phased at all by her action, and continued speaking as though her blade had never been unsheathed at all, “Were you the one who opened my window? Ah– It gets a bit stuffy in here, sometimes, so I don’t mind you cutting the lock.”
The boy’s window was always locked – but not from the inside. An intricate lock bound the two sill windows together from outside, so that it could never be opened from inside. He had never known why – His mother, Princess Wang, told him it was to protect from outsiders, while his principal maidservant, Miss Xiren, told him it was to stop him from trying to climb out again.
The boy decided that Miss Xiren must have the correct reason, because it clearly didn’t protect from outsiders very well.
“Tch. Locked from the outside, P.D. Pathetic Design,” the woman spat, blade still up against the boy’s neck.
“Are you here to kill me?” The boy asked, words blunt but still light as air, “If you are, would you let me move away from my bed? Miss Xiren works hard to make sure all my sheets are clean and pressed, and I’d really hate to dirty her work.”
The woman stared into the boy’s eyes for a handful of seconds, the silence only broken by the occasional gust of wind and flutter of the sill windows behind the boy.
The woman removed the sword from the boy’s neck and sheathed it in less than half a second. “B.T,” she spit, the boy’s eyes following her as she walked back over to the open window, “Boring Target. Tch, someone else can take the reward.”
“Hmm? What are you talking about?” The boy asked, watching the woman jump up onto the windowsill, and prepare to leave the same way she came.
“Bounty on your head. Others will be more easily entertained,” the woman explained, though the boy found her words to not satiate his confusion at all. A grin formed on her face as she turned her head a bit so the boy could see half of her face.
“Good luck, Prince Baoyu,” she spoke with a coy smile, then turned and leapt off the windowsill and into the night.
Baoyu blinked a few times before approaching the open window and looking down on Hongyuan, the lands that would soon be his to command.
Oh... He wondered... Could he leap away into the night, just as that woman had...?
JIA BAOYU PRINCE OF HONGYUAN, JADE OF HONGYUAN.
WANTED DEAD. NOT ALIVE.
REWARD: 15 0000 串
Heathcliff crossed his arms, looking at the newly posted paper on the side of the wall he was loitering by.
Hundreds – No, thousands, of papers calling for the death of Prince Jia Baoyu had been posted around Hongyuan overnight, without a single trace hinting at who could have left them.
150,000 chuan was a lot of money – enough to set someone up for life. With that kind of money, Heathcliff could buy himself a large property and hire someone to maintain it for the rest of his life. He could be comfortable.
He wasn’t particularly adept with killing someone, but for a lifetime’s worth of Hongyuan’s finest? He would make do.
Of course, Heathcliff had considered that the price was fake – the only people able to boast over 100,000 chuan were the nobles of Hongyuan. He would have scoffed at such an amount if the papers weren’t made of smooth mulberry bark and handwritten with fine calligraphy ink.
“Fish Soup! Freshly diced!”
The scent of a food vendor opening up wafted past Heathcliff, and Heathcliff immediately felt a hungry pang in his stomach.
Haah. He didn’t have dinner last night, did he?
Heathcliff pulled out a pouch of copper coins – the pouch was worn, but kept its original softness, and had an intricate embroidery that symbolized something he couldn’t get himself to remember. Inside it held a handful of coins.
Should be fine.
Heathcliff got in line counting the coins in his pouch as he did so. He finally got to the front, and his mouth immediately watered upon seeing the steaming bowls full of fresh fish and peppers.
“35 wen,” the salesman said with a hearty smile, clearly proud of his dish.
Heathcliff raised an eyebrow, staring the man down. “35 wen? Bit expensive, innit?”
The salesman laughed, reaching over to give Heathcliff a hearty pat on the shoulder. “Ah! For a young man as lively as yourself, I’ll do 30. Okay?” He smiled, and Heathcliff let out an entertained huff.
Haggling was one of his favorite parts of spending money.
After a bit of back and fourth, the two men settled on 25 wen, an amount that Heathcliff was certain that he had.
...Until he properly counted his coins, and realized he was 7 wen short.
“I, uh, only got 18 wen,” Heathcliff said, grimacing. He had verbally agreed to 25, and felt a bit embarrassed that he had to backtrack like this. He was certain the people behind him were tapping their feet impatiently, wishing him to get out of the line.
“25 wen! No lower! Can you pay?” The salesman shouted, and Heathcliff grimaced further. He wasn’t haggling at this point – He honestly didn’t have the money.
He heard the person behind him step to the side a bit, the sound of fabric rustling prominent to Heathcliff’s currently hyper-aware perception.
“Are you having trouble paying for the fish soup? Oh! I could pay it for you, sir,” a male voice sounded behind him, and Heathcliff nearly jumped at the sudden words.
“I don’t want some bloke to bloody–” Heathcliff growled, turning around to snap at the man behind him, but his voice cut out upon actually seeing the person behind him.
There were a lot of odd features on the man – He was wearing some thick, embroidered buttoned cloak with long sleeves that looked like it may have been made for dress-up rather than any actual function. Heathcliff had seen criminals and others of the like don cloaks to conceal their identity and stay on the low, but the oddity of the man’s presence and outfit made him stick out amongst the busy streets of Hongyuan.
He was pretty, too – It seemed that an artist had placed his features to complement each other at birth, and he had grown into it. Heathcliff didn’t mean that the man’s face was perfectly symmetrical, or anything of the sorts – but anything that could be counted as a flaw seemed to just be another careful stroke in a grand painting. Heathcliff could see long hair – at least shoulder length – inside the man’s cloak, and it seemed well maintained. He also sported one dark brown eye, and one bright, beautifully blue eye.
And, most notably, he wore a bright smile that was entirely out of place for the lower streets of Hongyuan.
“...I don’t want some bloke to bloody pay for my meal. ‘Specially not someone that looks like you,” Heathcliff finished, crossing his arms. He could feel the salesman behind him getting impatient, and could see the people behind the man getting impatient as well.
“Why do you talk like that? I’ve never heard anyone talk like that,” the man asked, and Heathcliff’s eye twitched in minor annoyance. He was used to the question – He hadn’t grown up in Hongyuan, but had run away here as a teenager to get away from an abusive environment. But, the airy voice combined with a pang of hunger made him more upsettable than usual.
“Why the hell do you dress like that?” Heathcliff countered, motioning to the man’s attire. He looked down to see his outfit, as though he had completely forgotten what he put on in the morning.
Before the man could respond, a loud growl from Heathcliff’s stomach sounded out. The man immediately looked up with wide eyes, and Heathcliff immediately flushed.
A redheaded woman standing in line tapped her foot angrily, and crossed her arms. “Are you two done arguing yet?” she sighed, “Some of us have somewhere to be.”
Before Heathcliff could growl and snap at the woman for her attitude, the cloaked man smiled and apologized. “Ah, I’m sorry miss, I didn’t mean to hold up the line,” he said, then took a pause to count everyone in line including himself and Heathcliff. The man turned to the salesman, “Could I have 7 bowls of fish soup, please? How much would that be?”
The salesman, along with Heathcliff, seemed a bit taken aback at the sudden action. A boastful smile soon reached the salesman’s face as he pushed forward 7 out of the 9 bowls he had prepared, “35 wen each! Buy it before it gets cold!”
“So, ah, that would be,” the man paused running the math in his head before reaching into his cloak. He pulled out 3 strings of coins – 300 wen. “Would this be enough to cover the costs?”
“Are you dumb, lad?” Heathcliff couldn’t help but spit out with exasperation, “You’re just gonna flaunt you’re carrying around all that without haggling with the guy first?”
The man had already handed the three strings over to the giddy salesman, who thanked him profusely and allowed the other 5 people in line to take a dish for free. It seemed to pacify the ones who had been especially impatient, at least.
The interaction, as odd as it was, was now over. Heathcliff had begrudgingly taken one of the bowls, not wanting to take handouts but feeling the effects of hunger, and the man had gotten the one bowl of fish soul that he had come over.
So, could someone explain to Heathcliff why the hell the man was still following him...?
“Hongyuan is so pretty, isn’t it? Oh! Where are your favorite places to go? See, I’ve never really been able to–” “Why the hell are you following me?” Heathcliff interrupted, the stream of airy words ticking him off, “If you want something in return for the soup, jus’ say it outright.”
“Hmm~ Should I want something in return? I didn’t think of that when I... Ah! Look at that merchant’s vase, it almost looks like a cat,” the man said, voice having a bit of a melody to it, and he stopped to admire the pottery.
Once he realized that Heathcliff had no intention of stopping to look at the pottery, the man abandoned the stall and continued trailing behind Heathcliff.
Heathcliff opted to ignore him entirely, sitting down in some alleyway he typically occupied to eat his fish soup. He looked up at the mulberry bark paper calling for Prince Jia Baoyu’s execution – more importantly, he looked at the number “15 0000” and the fancy “串” monetary symbol next to it. A “串”, or chuan, made up 10 strings of “文”, or wen. A string of wen consisted of 100 wen – Heathcliff didn’t even half enough money to make up a quarter of a string of wen. With a single chuan, Heathcliff could buy 40 fish soups. With 150,000 chuan... He could buy a lot more.
The cloaked man that had refused to leave his side also stared at the paper curiously, most likely also encaptured by the amount of chuan listed for the prince’s death. Heathcliff scoffed at the idea. Even someone who liked throwing around money for show was allured by such a high amount.
The man eventually turned away from the poster, watching as Heathcliff sat down on the floor to eat.
“Oh, why are you eating on the floor?” The man asked, and Heathcliff took in a deep breath to endure the upcoming conversation they were about to have, “It’s so dirty. Where should I sit?”
“Well, if you want,” Heathcliff said, voice sarcastic as he took a pause to blow on a spoonful of soup to cool it down, “I could take off my coat, and lay it on the ground. Then you’d have a proper place to sit.”
Heathcliff watched as the man’s expression lit up and he clasped his hands together. “Oh! Would you? That would be perfect,” he said, and Heathcliff couldn’t even find it in himself to be angry at the genuine tone of the man’s voice.
“...No. I ain’t gonna do that,” Heathcliff responded, and watched the man’s face fall a bit.
Heathcliff had hoped that would be enough to shake the cloaked man off his trail, and send him back to whatever pretty piece of property he came from, but the man dusted the floor with his foot before deeming it ‘clean’ enough and taking a seat.
Heathcliff watched the man bring a spoonful of soup up to his mouth and cautiously lick the broth. His face scrunched up a bit like he wasn’t expecting the taste, but he continued to lick at the broth.
After a tense silence (for Heathcliff, at least), Heathcliff spoke.
“What do you want from me?” He said suddenly, unable to push his curiosity down for any longer, “I mean, did someone send you to intimidate me or some shite? Because it ain’t working, but they’re getting their point across. What– What even is your name?”
“My name?” The man mused, putting his bowl in his lap, “No one has ever asked me what my name was before.”
Okay. So this guy was actually mentally ill, then.
“My name... Hmm,” the man hummed, looking around, “I can pick anything?”
Heathcliff’s eye twitched. “Sure. Yeah. Whatever,” he said, regretting asking in the first place. He was half convinced that this guy was actually just some mentally ill noble who got out of their room and was wandering the streets, but refused to put down the idea that he had been sent to Heathcliff with ill intent.
“Hong.... Hmm.... Hong Lu. ‘Hong’, like the swans that migrate–” “I really don’t care, mate,” Heathcliff interrupted him, taking another greedy bite of his fish soup. He was being aggressive, yes, but couldn’t bring himself to show any real or physical aggression towards the man. Heathcliff had some sort of polite nature to him, deep down within, and even if he was embarrassed that this guy had to buy his 25 wen fish soup, he was thankful for the action nonetheless.
“Uh, I’m Heathcliff,” Heathcliff said awkwardly, unexpectedly affected by the silence that his intrusive words had caused, “where’re you from?”
“Hongyuan,” Hong Lu smiled.
“...Cool. I meant, er, down South, or...?” Heathcliff tried to clarify, making small talk, but it didn’t seem to be of much interest to the other man.
Hong Lu took his bowl of fish soup and placed it on the floor in front of him, then returned his hands to his lap. “I’m very happy to be able to try something new,” Hong Lu said, turning his head over to Heathcliff, “But I don’t think I’m very fond of this dish.”
“Really?” Heathcliff said, before quickly finishing his bowl and taking Hong Lu’s bowl to finish it as well.
The expression Hong Lu gave Heathcliff was a bit cute – It made Heathcliff flush, but not out of affection, and instead out of embarrassment. Hong Lu’s eyes were a bit wide, and his lips were slightly parted. Heathcliff realized with horror that he was NOT invited to finish Hong Lu’s fish soup.
“Sorry, mate, did you want–” “No, no, I was going to throw it away– Ah, but I already had some? Isn’t it a bit gross to drink from my bowl?”
Heathcliff shrugged, putting the empty bowl on top of his own. “Food’s food, I’ll take what I can get,” he grumbled, feeling a bit embarrassed at what seemed to be a massive income difference between himself and Hong Lu.
Hong Lu trailed Heathcliff for the rest of the day. The entire time, Heathcliff was hoping that Hong Lu would get lost at some merchant’s stall so that Heathcliff could start making preparations to kill Jia Baoyu and claim his prize, but Hong Lu dutifully stayed by his side. When Heathcliff tried to question him and tell him to ‘get lost’, Hong Lu had responded that he liked Heathcliff and thought he was fun, and got to see so many new things.
His words softened Heathcliff’s defenses a bit, alongside Hong Lu’s nature to get entranced with any little gadget or vendor they passed. Maybe Heathcliff was doing the streets of Hongyuan a disfavor by not working harder to get Hong Lu off his tail – If Hong Lu wasn’t so insistent on following him like some shelter rescue, he was certain that every merchant here would have gotten at least one or two chuan to take home for the day.
Hong Lu ended up buying just three things. One of which was a thick, pretty necklace with repoussé decoration and sapphires, that Heathcliff had haggled from 1 chuan and 300 wen (1 chuan??? For a necklace??) to 890 wen. Of course, Hong Lu pulled out an entire chuan from his cloak like he was paying for a small snack, and pocketed the change.
...Heathcliff was fairly sure that that single interaction consisted of more money than he had ever owned at one time.
The second and third purchases were lunch and dinner for both of them. Heathcliff had protested for lunch, and when Hong Lu thought Heathcliff was protesting because he didn’t agree with Hong Lu’s choice for lunch, Heathcliff decided to shut up and let Hong Lu spend his own money and pick where they were to eat.
As the sun set, merchants began rolling their stalls away to get home before dark.
“I won’t lie, it’s been fun,” Heathcliff said with a toothy grin, turning towards Hong Lu. Heathcliff typically spent his time walking around the streets of Hongyuan, looking for an odd job or bounty to fulfill to feed him that week. Hong Lu seemed more than happy to follow him around Hongyuan and see the sights that the busy streets had to offer. Heathcliff was full – He had had breakfast, lunch, and dinner for the first time in years – And he was in a good mood. “Surprised your feet haven’t been killing you. Y’don’t seem like someone who gets out much.”
“Oh, my feet do hurt,” Hong Lu laughed, “Ah, I like to walk around in my garden, but never this much! I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to see so many new sights though – Will we be walking through the night, as well?”
“Nothing interesting but burglars at night,” Heathcliff said, “I’m better off finding some hole to hide in ‘till sunrise. You’re better off going back home and falling into your plush bed.”
“Hmm, I was thinking I could stay with you?” Hong Lu said, and the idea shocked Heathcliff less than it should have, “I don’t, ah, really think I should go home.”
Heathcliff knew first-hand that it was the most wealthy households that had the worst people, so he didn’t bother questioning Hong Lu’s statement.
“Go find an inn, or a hostel then,” Heathcliff said, his good mood slowly dissipating as he had to deal with what was essentially an adult child.
“Would you come too? Oh! I could pay for your room as well, if you’d like,” Hong Lu offered with a smile.
“Yeah, no thanks. You’ve wasted enough damn money for the entire month. I seriously don’t care where you go, but I’m leaving now, okay? Thanks for the food,” Heathcliff said, voice direct and blunt, and Hong Lu stared at him with a curious look.
When Heathcliff turned around and heard light footsteps following him, he took in and let out a deep breath and continued walking. If the pretty noble wanted to spend the night on an alleyway floor, so be it.
“Wow~ Do you sleep outside?” Hong Lu asked once Heathcliff sat down. Heathcliff forced himself to take another deep breath. “That must be so nice~ Do you get to see the stars as you fall asleep?”
Hong Lu’s genuine amazement and interest disarmed Heathcliff, and Heathcliff let out his deep breath as Hong Lu dusted the floor with his foot and sat down. “Yeah, I do,” Heathcliff responded, “But it gets cold. That cloak got any warmth to it?”
“Hmm? I’m not sure, it’s my first time wearing it,” Hong Lu laughed.
Heathcliff looked over at one of the bounty papers pinned across the street. It was a bit crumpled, and a bird perched right above it. Hong Lu... was some sort of mix between a loyal dog and a walking bank. Heathcliff was determined to start figuring out a way to get inside the Jia Palace, located in the Northern Jia Capital not too far from here, and claim Jia Baoyu’s life.
Assuming no one else had already, of course. It was unlikely that he’d be the one to find and kill the prince first, but when 150,000 chuan was on the line, it was a chance he was willing to take.
If Hong Lu wanted to accompany him for part of his journey, so be it. Past the occasional annoyance, Heathcliff didn’t mind the company, and didn’t mind Hong Lu’s willingness to pay for whatever, whenever.
A walking bank, yes, that’s what he was. Nothing more, and nothing less.
Hong Lu brought his knees up to his chest, smoothing out his buttoned cloak to look more presentable.
Heathcliff stretched and started to drift off, allowing himself to try and fall asleep. Typically, he would never fall asleep if even one person knew his location – But Hong Lu seemed entirely harmless, and Heathcliff wanted to further utilize his poor spending habits. It was the one thing he had over the other many bounty hunters vying for Prince Jia Baoyu’s head.
Right before he fell asleep, he heard small shifts of fabric next to him, and he begrudgingly opened his eyes.
Beside him, Hong Lu shook continuously with a cold shiver, trying to compress his body inside of his embroidered cloak.
“Y’can’t be cold already,” Heathcliff said, his sudden voice making Hong Lu jump a bit, “Moon isn’t even close to its highest.”
“Yes, I,” Hong Lu said, voice a bit small, “I suppose I wasn’t well prepared for the cold.”
“I won’t poke fun at you if you leave and go find a proper hostel or inn to stay in,” Heathcliff said, trying to give Hong Lu some sort of reassuring smile. Even though he should feel a bit of a satisfied ‘I told you so’, he only felt a slight pity for the shivering man beside him. “If you, uh, wanted to, you could come back over after you wake and follow me around again,” Heathcliff continued, finding himself nearly stumbling over his words.
“No,” Hong Lu declined, “I want to see the stars. I’d be willing to endure far more than this just to fall asleep under them.”
Heathcliff didn’t respond to that, instead bringing his gaze up at the starry sky.
In no world was Hong Lu going to convince Heathcliff that sleeping outside was better than having a warm bed to cozy up in, but Heathcliff found himself to appreciate the night for what it had to offer.
Beside him, though, Hong Lu still shook against the chilly weather, and Heathcliff grit his teeth.
Heathcliff scooted towards Hong Lu until the outsides of their arms were touching. Hong Lu looked over to him, a bit confused, and Heathcliff found it difficult to maintain eye contact.
“That, uh, better?” Heathcliff said, putting just a bit of his weight into Hong Lu’s side.
“N-No,” Hong Lu laughed, and Heathcliff was a bit taken aback by the shiver in his words, “But, ah, I appreciate the thought. It makes me feel better emotionally.”
Heathcliff scooted back to his original position, deciding that he had no reason to be pressed flush against Hong Lu if it didn’t alleviate the other man’s cold at all. But as Hong Lu continued to shiver, Heathcliff couldn’t get himself to keep trying to turn a blind eye.
“Okay, fine, fine,” Heathcliff grumbled, sitting up straight and undoing the fastening strings on his outer coat.
Hong Lu hummed curiously before realizing what Heathcliff was planning on doing. He quickly waved his hands in front of them before realizing the action invited more cold air into his cloak.
“It’s all right, Heathcliff — You’d rather see me endure the hardships of the night, wouldn’t you?” Hong Lu said, Heathcliff taking off his coat to reveal a simple cross-collar short sleeve underneath, bound at the waist by a worn sash.
Hong Lu took a brief moment to admire Heathcliff’s physique before getting Heathcliff’s coat shoved into his chest.
Despite Heathcliff’s seemingly lower status, and the worn brown of the outer layer, the coat had a luxurious tan fur padding on the inside. Granted, the fur was matted, and some spots seemed to be stained with sweat, but it was clean and comfortable. On the inside of the lapel read “Heathcliff”, in pretty purple cursive embroidery.
“I stole it,” Heathcliff boasted with a toothy grin, clearly proud of his signature coat. The style was native to the country he had grown up in, and although it visually outcast him from the locals, he didn’t care to replace it with a more traditional garment.
“It’s not like anything I’ve seen before,” Hong Lu said, cautiously extending his hands from the sleeves of his cloak to bury them in the warm fur of Heathcliff’s coat, “Did you embroider this, too? It’s very well done,” Hong Lu continued, looking at the cursive name on the inside lapel.
“Er, nah,” Heathcliff said, a bit awkwardly, “It was like that when I stole it. Don’t, uh, don’t know why. A bit creepy, honestly.”
Was it designed to be a gift for him? Surely not — If it were a gift, who would it even be from?
Hong Lu was quick to unbutton his cloak to don Heathcliff’s coat, and Heathcliff’s eyes widened at the beautiful blue, white, and gold embroidered hanfu that Hong Lu wore underneath.
Heathcliff understood Hong Lu’s choice to wear a cloak entirely, now — If Hong Lu had paraded himself down the dark streets of Hongyuan in such an elegant outfit, he would have been entirely destitute before the sun could rise.
And, with his left eye, as pretty and bright as fine jade, someone could have mistaken him for the 150,000 chuan Jia Baoyu.
Hong Lu quickly put on the pre-warmed coat, letting out a happy sigh once he did, and Heathcliff reached over to string the garment onto him. Once Heathcliff was finished, Hong Lu buttoned his cloak and curled in on himself, but he was no longer shivering.
“Won’t you get cold, now?” Hong Lu asked, looking over at Heathcliff. All Heathcliff wore was a short sleeve garment traditional to Hongyuan and some generic loose black pants, tied around his waist with a thin sash.
“Hm? Uh, it’s nearly Summer. Ain’t that cold out here,” Heathcliff responded a bit awkwardly, not used to being on the receiving end of someone’s concern.
Hong Lu shuffled to the side until his and Heathcliff’s outer arms were pressed against each other, just as Heathcliff had done to him earlier.
“Is that any better?” Hong Lu smiled a gentle smile, and Heathcliff froze.
Oh.
He was really cute.
“Y-Yeah. Sure,” Heathcliff tried to say in a cool manner, but the stutter in his voice revealed him as flustered. He quickly looked away, towards the street, and Hong Lu directed his gaze back upwards towards the stars.
Heathcliff fell asleep first – But, right before he faded into unconsciousness, he felt Hong Lu lean into him and rest his head gently on Heathcliff’s shoulder.
It wasn’t a bad feeling.
Heathcliff woke up cold. It wasn’t a horrifically miserable experience, as he had woken up cold for quite a few nights in his life, but it was a feeling of note. The only warmth his body could feel was on one of his thighs, which Hong Lu had apparently granted himself permission to use as a pillow.
Heathcliff slipped out from underneath Hong Lu, making sure to guide Hong Lu’s head gently to the floor so he wouldn’t wake.
The sun was just barely peeking out, beginning to light the streets of Hongyuan. Heathcliff stretched and began pacing around the nearby street to warm up, not wanting to stay seated for much longer. He eventually stopped in front of the bounty paper that had been pinned up nearby.
The mulberry paper was smooth, and the writing was fresh – the slightly worn paper that Heathcliff had seen last night was now gone, replaced by a fresh sheet.
Haah. What a useless way to throw money and labor around. But, Heathcliff supposed that meant the prince was still alive.
“Heathcliff?” Heathcliff heard Hong Lu’s voice behind him, and Heathcliff turned around. Hong Lu hummed, “You didn’t leave.”
“Said I wouldn’t,” Heathcliff shrugged a bit awkwardly, and felt some sort of pride swell in his chest at how Hong Lu’s face lit up. “But, uh, I actually got shit I gotta do today. You’re free to tag along, but you’ll probably choose to leave at some point.”
Hong Lu hummed his approval, content with tagging along for as long as he could.
Heathcliff was determined to take Jia Baoyu’s life tonight, and claim his prize. He had spent a bit of last night and a bit of the morning formulating a plan:
- Acquire a lethal weapon to kill the prince with
- Sneak into the Jia palace and kill the prince
- Find the writer of the bounty and claim his 150,000 串
Admittedly, it wasn’t a great or well-thought out plan. But Heathcliff knew he was in a time crunch, as there were most certainly at least 100 others vying for Jia Baoyu’s death, so he didn’t have time to sit and detail his plan.
He knew of a weaponsmith that made fine blades, guaranteed to be able to swiftly kill for as long as 100 years.
Heathcliff told himself he was going to use Hong Lu as some infinite money source, but he didn’t really want to. He knew the blade he sought from Hongyuan’s most reclusive weaponsmith would be priced highly, and planned to use Hong Lu’s financial generosity to acquire the blade.
He would pay Hong Lu back once he claimed his 150,000 chuan bounty.
“...I already asked this, but why are you following me around like some animal?” Heathcliff asked, disrupting Hong Lu’s curious scouting for breakfast.
“Well, I don’t think I’m going to be alive for very much longer,” Hong Lu hummed, still looking around, “So I’d like to experience as much of the world as I can.”
“You ain’t sick with something, are you?” Heathcliff said, thinking about moving away from Hong Lu, but realizing that if Hong Lu was contagious Heathcliff would have already caught his illness.
“No,” Hong Lu answered, and did not specify further.
Heathcliff didn’t bother pressing further, either – Though he was curious, he didn’t want to pry open Hong Lu to speak. Hong Lu seemed to love to share every little detail about himself, so if this was something he didn’t wish to share, Heathcliff was better off not prying.
Heathcliff heard a metallic marching down the street – There were multiple armored footsteps, and they all marched in unison. Heathcliff squinted down the road, seeing blue painted armor and flags to match.
“Shit,” Heathcliff cursed, grabbing Hong Lu and pushing him into an alleyway, “Those are Jia Royal guards. Stay low.”
Hong Lu pulled the hood of his cloak to cover more of his face, staying close behind Heathcliff.
“Y’think they’re looking for that Jia Baoyu’s killer?” Heathcliff said, gritting his teeth and hoping he still had a chance to take home his money.
He was entirely focused on the approaching guards, and the way the merchants pulled their stalls out of the way in fear of being overturned, that Heathcliff entirely missed the way Hong Lu furrowed his eyebrows and cocked his head in confusion.
“No, I don’t think so,” Hong Lu answered, “I think they’re looking for me, actually.”
“Don’t be daft,” Heathcliff was quick to shut him down, “You ain’t that important, lad. They only deploy the Royal Guards onto the streets in times of emergency. Happened this one time 7 years back or so. I watched a lot of people’s houses get torn up then.”
“Yes,” Hong Lu said, “They were looking for me then, as well.”
Heathcliff sighed and shook his head. He had forgotten that Hong Lu was some mentally ill runaway noble, so Heathcliff stopped engaging in the conversation.
Heathcliff tensed the closer the Royal Guards got. He wasn’t being hunted, but he had seen the destruction that the Royal Guards would cause without hesitation. Hong Lu grabbed onto the back of Heathcliff’s shirt, and Heathcliff nearly jumped out onto the street at the action.
“Heathcliff, you have to hide me,” Hong Lu said, and his voice carried a strained property that Heathcliff hadn’t heard before, “I can’t let them find me, Heathcliff. I got in so much trouble last time.”
Heathcliff didn’t want to further entertain Hong Lu’s delusions, but getting entirely out of sight of the Royal Guards didn’t seem like such a bad option.
“Okay, okay, fine, this way,” Heathcliff said, pushing Hong Lu away from the street, and Hong Lu obediently followed Heathcliff’s guide. They got behind the building they were beside, and Hong Lu tensed.
“Heathcliff, they’re here too – they’ll see me,” Hong Lu said, pointing at a giant stone bridge. On the other side of the bridge was a group of soldiers marching.
“Get under the bridge,” Heathcliff pressured Hong Lu, and the two of them dashed to the side of the bridge to sneak below it.
The bridge spanned over a large river, and thus, there was water, but it was only a bit higher than ankle depth. It reached the bottom of Hong Lu’s cloak though, and Hong Lu quickly grabbed his garments and tried to get it out of the water to prevent any further soaking.
The two of them waited in silence until the metallic footsteps passed them.
Heathcliff let out a breath. The guards didn’t seem aggressive – Well, they seemed aggressive, but they weren’t tearing houses apart demanding for the location of Jia Baoyu’s murderer. He supposed that meant they were here for a different reason, but Heathcliff still didn’t want to risk getting involved with them.
He was about to continue his mission to find the weaponsmith, but upon turning towards Hong Lu, he saw a downtrodden expression on Hong Lu that he hadn’t seen before, even in the coldest part of the night.
“What do you look like that for?” Heathcliff asked, unsure how to ask if Hong Lu was okay in a normal fashion. Hong Lu looked down at his cloak, which he was no longer holding, and Heathcliff watched it take in water.
“I’m dirty,” Hong Lu said, watching the water wet his clothes further, “I don’t think I like being dirty. I wish I could shower, and have clean clothes.”
“We all do,” Heathcliff snapped, but it didn’t come out as particularly hostile.
“And I... I wish I could play in the river’s water without care,” Hong Lu continued speaking, looking at the water, “But my parents tell me it’s unbecoming, and I’ve aged far past the time for that. And right now, I have no clean clothes.”
Heathcliff crossed his arms, listening to Hong Lu’s woes.
After a bit of silence, Heathcliff uncrossed his arms.
“Give me my coat back,” he said, and Hong Lu didn’t seem taken aback at the complete ignorance of Hong Lu’s musing.
Obediently, Hong Lu unbuttoned his cloak to reveal his intricate hanfu, the bottom of it wet from the river and brown from being so near the floor. “It’s not wet, only my lower legs have gotten wet,” Hong Lu said as he handed the fur coat to Heathcliff.
Heathcliff took his coat and threw it on the dry land. Before Hong Lu could speak, Heathcliff raised a leg and kicked as much river water as he could at Hong Lu.
Hong Lu flinched from the sudden spray of cold water, and stumbled back a bit, nearly falling into the water.
“Heathcliff! Why did you–” “I’ll tell you what,” Heathcliff grinned with his teeth, untying the sash of his shirt (causing Hong Lu to shut up a lot faster) and throwing his shirt on top of his coat. “Your pretty silk is already messed up now, innit? Make it completely unwearable, and you’ll have yourself a proper excuse to get some new clothes. I’ll help you pick something out that doesn’t make you look like a walking target.”
Heathcliff kicked another wave of riverwater at Hong Lu, and Hong Lu put his arms up to defend from the splash of cold water.
“I don’t understand, Heathcliff,” Hong Lu said, his brows just a touch furrowed. Heathcliff sighed, taking a step towards Hong Lu.
“Damn Jia Guards are gonna be out for a while. I’m an outsider, and, er,” Heathcliff’s voice slowed down, “I’ve never gotten in a mess with one of those guards. But I seen how they’ve treated other outsiders and... I ain’t too eager to get spotted by one of them.”
Hong Lu didn’t respond to that, and Heathcliff shrugged to fill up the empty space. “Sorry, what I’m saying is,” Heathcliff put back on a playful smile, “Play in the river water with me.”
‘Playing’ didn’t seem to come naturally to Hong Lu, Heathcliff noted – Upon Heathcliff’s command to play in the water, Hong Lu slowly and a bit awkwardly brought his hand down to the cold water, careful to not get his sleeves wet, and stirred the water a little. It wasn’t until a few seconds after Heathcliff had physically pushed him down into the river’s water that Hong Lu reciprocated and grabbed Heathcliff’s arm to pull him down as well.
There were a few locals that passed by that looked at the two of them with disgust, no doubt seeing them as mentally ill men that ‘dirtied’ the beauty of Hongyuan, but neither Heathcliff nor Hong Lu took any notice or cared.
Heathcliff got to hear Hong Lu genuinely laugh. It wasn’t a particularly elegant noise, but Heathcliff was happy to hear it nonetheless.
He somehow felt that not many people had heard the man’s genuine laugh.