Chapter Thirty

Disclaimer: I don't own CCS.

Whoever keeps his door locked all the time longs for it to be broken down.

~ Chinese Proverb

The scorched earth was soaked in blood, sweat and spent bowels. The rain did not help one's footing either. The stifling stench was unlike anything to which man or beast could ever grow accustomed. The enemy warriors, realising they had lost the fight, were running for their lives with the imperial soldiers hot on their heels. Those who were dying - who could not run - felt the swords of the imperial soldiers being driven into their chests and backs.

Syaoran wiped away a trickle of blood from his nose as he surveyed the carnage, his eyes stinging from the smoke and scents of death that hung thick in the air. Already he had counted too many lifeless bodies of men he knew - Yue, some of the generals and the First Son Renshu. Even the great magician Eriol was in a bad state, and both he and Syaoran's half-brother Lei were at the mercy of the surgeons' hands.

Syaoran's feet sank into the soggy earth as he trudged between the sea of dead bodies - mutilated, crushed bloody and burnt. And he did something he had not done on a battlefield since he was a boy; he sank to his knees and emptied his stomach, bile and all.

Each man lying here lifeless, bleeding, dying... he was someone's son. Now that Syaoran had one of his own, now that he had helped to give life, it seemed terrible to have taken them. It was wasteful. Syaoran could not justify it or rationalize it. Here was his son's future. To be sent to kill or be killed. And even though the idea was repulsing, there was a glimmer of pride to know that his son would surely survive many days such as this. This gore was all Syaoran knew. It was all he had been taught to love. It was all he could teach his child. Thank the heavens then, that the boy had a mother too.

"Huangdi!" exclaimed a soldier dropping to his knees beside Syaoran. "Are you hurt Huangdi?"

Syaoran stopped himself from retching again. Suddenly, his legs felt weak and he had to use the soldier's shoulder for support as he rose to his feet.

"Great Imperial Son, should I send for a doctor?" asked the soldier anxiously, even as a reassuring expression was plastered on his face.

The young man was bleeding from the forehead and the way he was favouring his left leg meant his right was wounded. Yet here he was, perfectly groomed to take care of Syaoran despite his injuries.

"Are you tired?" asked Syaoran, looking at the panting young man. "Answer honestly."

"I am," said the soldier. "But I will follow any command you have for me, Huangdi."

"Go to the palace. Rest. If anyone dares stop you, send them to me."

Syaoran walked off, head tilted back and his body swaying slightly. A few yards into his aimless wanderings he paused and looked back. The soldier was following him like a lost puppy. He froze when Syaoran stopped.

"You're heading in the same direction I am, Huangdi," he said quickly.

Syaoran's shoulders slumped. He should have known that years of imperial conditioning could not be stopped with a single command. Self-preservation was nothing compared to preservation of the royal bloodline. He could not say a negative thing against the man though, for he himself had been so unquestionably loyal most of his life. He nodded and the soldier accompanied him back to the palace.

After they reached the palace however, the soldier begged Syaoran to allow him to return to the field and recover his fellow soldiers' bodies. Syaoran granted his request and watched as he limped back to the battlefield, dignity evident in his every step.

The experience of walking along the spotless halls of the palace after a battle was always strange. The palace was supposed to be comforting after many cold nights and battles but there was red everywhere and it only reminded Syaoran of the blood he had shed. Still it was home, and to Syaoran that was a real tragedy - to call this beautiful prison, home.

"Huangdi!"

Syaoran turned to find Yukito and Touya striding up to him.

"Sakura?" asked Syaoran.

"She's in your chambers," said Touya, distaste dripping from his words. "So is her son and the Guardian Beast."

"Good," was all he said before he took off walking again.

"Huangdi!" called Yukito, he and Touya following behind. "You need to have your wounds tended to."

"There are soldiers who are in need of the surgeons more than me," Syaoran told him. Then he paused, remembering the fallen. "Yue was a great man and general Yukito. He died with honour."

Yukito bowed.

"Thank you, Huangdi."

"Where are Meilin and Hua-Ling?" Syaoran asked.

There was a brief silence and Syaoran did not miss the fact that Yukito took a small step back from him.

"Sheng kept the princesses in their quarters where he found them."

"Go on," pressed Syaoran.

"Enlai... he dishonoured Hua-Ling." Syaoran jaw muscles flexed and Yukito quickly added, "But not Meilin."

"Is that what she said?"

"Yes."

"You believe her?"

"I do."

"Why?"

"She said that Enlai saw Sheng when he looked at her. They share a close resemblance, Huangdi. Enlai was not keen on the idea of having Sheng in his mind when he was with her. And Meilin seems... unchanged."

Touya's eyes were trained on Syaoran, observing his reaction to the news. Syaoran's gaze swept across both sides of the grand hallway.

"What else do you have to report to me?" he asked.

"Your two younger sisters were kept in the harem. And the harem was the soldiers' favourite place. I'm sorry I could not protect them and Hua-Ling. If you wish to punish me, you have every right."

Syaoran was in no way close to his sisters but they were blood and it was a blow to his family honour. If anyone should be punished it was Sheng, not Yukito.

"Also," said Yukito who was quickly becoming the bearer of bad news in Syaoran's opinion, "There was a fever in the palace. Hiiragizawa Kaho became ill. She died. Consort Tomoyo has insisted that she be the one to tell Chief Magician Eriol."

Syaoran closed his eyes briefly and gave a weary sigh.

"Tell me nothing unfortunate happened to that woman."

"Consort Tomoyo?" Yukito cleared his throat. "One of the generals in Sheng's army..."

Running a hand through his damp, dirty hair, Syaoran said, "Did you tell Sakura any of this? Did you speak to her about Eriol's consort?"

Yukito shrank before Syaoran but Touya stepped forward.

"She was asking many questions and threatening to go look for her friends herself," said Touya. "He had to."

"It was not his decision to make," said Syaoran, quietly. "He does not get to decide what my wife is exposed to. He knows that very well."

"I told him it was fine. I think I know what my sister can handle. Let's face the facts - she survived you. Twice."

Syaoran drew himself up straight, his aura growing stronger and stronger by the moment. Yukito raised his hands, shielding Touya's body with his own but surprisingly to all three men, Syaoran deflated.

The retort however, he could not hold in.

"If it was not for your carelessness," said Syaoran. "She would not have been in China in the first place."

The combination of rage and guilt on Touya's face was priceless and it soothed Syaoran's ego.

"Go prepare Yue's pyre," he told Yukito. "I want all the enemy soldiers removed and buried by midnight. As for our own, burn them."

"Burn all our soldiers? That could take days."

"It will. But not one of them deserves the indignity of a mass grave. No matter how practical."

Yukito bowed.

"Yes, Huangdi."

Syaoran left the men and ended up in the hallway that led to his chambers. Standing at the large sliding doors was a familiar face.

"Ping," said Syaoran, taken aback at the relief he felt on seeing the sneaky, old dog of a servant. "I cannot say that I am surprised to see you alive and well. And on your feet."

"Great Imperial - my apologies Huangdi - I am ready to return to your service."

Syaoran patted the man's shoulder. That was all the servant needed.

"Would you like a bath prepared Huangdi," said Ping. "One for you and your concubine."

"I am filthy Ping. She can have her own. But I will go with you and have mine now."

The truth was Syaoran would have liked nothing better than to hold Sakura against his skin. Have her remind him what was so good about life. But he knew his body was beaten and torn and she would worry or worst, be frightened. She had already gotten an earful of misery from Yukito, she did not need to fuss over his injuries. Also, Ping could help stitch and bandage him up.

The sun had set by the time Syaoran returned to his bedroom, clean, somewhat rested, but aching more than ever now that his mind was allowing him to be aware of every single wound. He found Sakura sitting in the middle of his bed, feeding their son. It was a sight he had not grown use to yet.

She smiled when she saw him although he could tell she had been crying. Her eyes were still red and puffy. Damn Kinomoto Touya and his new cohort Yukito. First Yue, and now the younger brother. The Japanese man wasted no time in stealing his companions, did he?

"Xiao Lang," said Sakura, almost like a sigh.

He sat on the edge of the bed - careful not to show any signs of pain - and watched the nursing.

"You do not have to do that any more," said Syaoran. "Ping has informed me that only commoners do it themselves. He can find someone to feed the boy."

Sakura shook her head, her eyes wide.

"I'll do it! He's my son."

"He doesn't have to be your problem. You did your duty by giving birth to him. He will have many capable persons to raise him."

Sakura was quiet for a while.

"You see him as a problem?"

Syaoran moved up on the bed nearer to her and propped himself up on the elbow, his ribs crying out for mercy.

"I do not know. Maybe."

"I wish you would allow yourself to love him." Sakura closed her hanfu when her son had finished. "Little boys need their fathers. Isn't that what they say?"

"Who's they?" said Syaoran, a twinge of resentment in his voice.

Sakura stared at him and he sighed.

"I'm trying. Because he came from you, I'll love him in time."

She looked unconvinced so he added, "I have even decided on a name for him."

Her face lit up.

"Really?"

"Hai."

"What is it?"

"His name will be Li Xiao Dan."

"Xiao Dan," said Sakura, testing it on her lips.

Syaoran nodded.

"It means little dawn."

"It's beautiful. Dawn marks a new day; it's hope. I love it," said Sakura with a smile, her eyes shining. "Very much."

Syaoran could not hide the smile on his own face. Making Sakura happy always felt good. Sakura mirrored his position on the bed, nestling Xiao Dan between them. He stroked the boy's cheek with a finger, softly. The next thing he knew, his nose was resting against Xiao Dan's skin. He inhaled his scent wondering, how long could he stay so innocent?

"Have you gone to see First Wife and Consort Hua-Ling?" asked Sakura.

"Not yet," said Syaoran still inhaling the fresh scent the baby. However, his tone made it clear he was not ready for that conversation.

"What did you do with Lu Sheng? Is he alive?"

Syaoran stared into Sakura's green eyes.

"I would have preferred you ask, is he dead? Your concern for him is disturbing."

"You still think something happened between us?"

Syaoran did not answer straight away.

"Yes. Because something did happen between you."

"Xiao -"

"It may not have been something… shameful," said Syaoran, overriding Sakura. "But the situations you were in with him irritate me. He kissed you in front of me. He is my enemy, but you care about him. I do not understand why."

Syaoran fingered the thin whispers of hair on Xiao Dan's head. They were the colour of Sakura's auburn locks.

"Are you going to kill him?" she asked.

He continued to stroke Xiao Dan's hair.

"Xiao Lang?"

"Of course I am going to kill him," he answered. "Public execution."

"I know he did bad things," said Sakura, pausing when Syaoran sent a sardonic glare her way. "But in my heart, I believe he regrets it all. I believe he wanted all the fighting to stop but he didn't know how to because he had been doing it so long. Just like you."

"He is nothing like me."

"I was only thinking that he could have easily been in your position, and you in his."

Syaoran had to admit that Sakura was brave, pressing him like this especially when the topic was Sheng. Then again, was it bravery when she knew he would never rip out her tongue?

"You are allowed to ask me only one more time to spare his life," said Syaoran.

"What?" asked Sakura, confused.

"Isn't that what you want?"

Syaoran could sense an unease within Sakura and he waited for her to speak what he knew would upset him.

"He tried to kill Xiao Dan," said Sakura. "He should be punished the way you want him to be."

Syaoran looked into her eyes. Eyes that were astonished at what had come out of its owner's mouth.

"Then why save him on the battlefield?" he asked.

"I didn't want to see you do it."

Syaoran put a hand to her cheek and kissed her lips.

"Our discussing him is over. Come," he said, lowering himself beside Xiao Dan. "We can pretend all is right with the world. Just for a while."

When Sakura pressed her head to the bed, Syaoran wrapped a hand around her waist, his son cocooned comfortably between them. Closing his eyes, he got his wish. For a moment, the three of them were everything.

For a moment.

Syaoran had barely had an hour of sleep before he was wide awake, thinking about Sheng and Sakura. He slid quietly from the bed and drifted over to the window. Large clouds of black smoke issued from beyond the Forbidden City's walls. All those burning bodies, all those dead men - his soldiers. And what had he won? He threw on a heavy coat and left his room to find the answer.

Sheng could barely feel his limbs. The cage he was locked inside of limited movement in all directions. His neck protruded through the top and was secured at the neck. His arms and one leg were twisted and held at odd angles through the cage bars. Only one foot remained free to support his weight.

What Sheng did feel was the magic that was infused in the material and locks of the cage. It made escape impossible to most and quite difficult to some. If his will was stronger at the moment, maybe he could escape. But freedom was the last thing on his mind.

Where would he go? Who could he run to? What would he do? He had allowed everyone he cared about to die. He deserved everything Xiao Lang was going to give him. He yearned for it. Death would be his peace. Yet it had been hours since he was cast aside in the dark, damp holding room. Hours since he had heard the last battle horn blow. Was Xiao Lang waiting until tomorrow to execute him?

He blinked, his head spinning. Had he passed out? He thought so. The little sounds he could hear were different. There was someone outside the room, talking. The large iron door swung open. He squinted. Who was there? The tall figure approached, a lamp in its hand. The first thing Sheng identified were those serious brown eyes. Xiao Lang.

"And so, the victor comes to claim his spoils," said Sheng, his voice cracking.

The sardonic quality of his voice did nothing to ease the tension that hung heavy in the room, though that had been his intent. Sheng coughed and an unexpected expression crossed Syaoran's face. He sneered, feeling his dried lips tearing.

"Pity?" He breathed out. "I would never have thought you could feel pity for anyone, least of all, me."

"Your problem has always been that you believe you are the only one who can feel," said Syaoran. "Only you have a heart. Only Sheng can love. Only Sheng can hurt."

Sheng's smile slid from his face and for a moment, there was a spark of anger in his chest.

"You know nothing about me."

"I do know you," said Syaoran. "We grew up together, we fought together. We bled together."

"It is a little late for reminiscing. "

Syaoran nodded in agreement. The lamp's light flickered across their faces and they regarded each other like a painter looked at his unfinished canvas.

"When we fought, I saw the moment when you decided to give up," said Syaoran. "The Sheng I know... he would never let himself be killed. Not easily. He would fight until his body gave out. Why did you give up?"

"I'm beginning to miss the old Xiao Lang," remarked Sheng. "The one who killed without questions."

"He never existed," Syaoran told him. "I have always had questions. I never gave voice to them. It was not my place. And, I wanted a simple life. Being a demon prince… following my emperor's orders… it gave me a sort of simplicity. But truth be told, I have been something else for some time now. Something with more… substance."

"Congratulations. It only took you two decades to attain a semblance of a soul," said Sheng. "But I need the demon prince. Not a diminished form of him."

Syaoran's gaze swept across the dirty cell.

"The laws say I must quarter you," he said. "My wife... she empathizes with you in spite of everything you have done."

"She is the reason you are here, then?"

"Yes."

"I told her I'm not a good person," said Sheng, coughing. "But your concubine likes to believe the best in people."

"An affliction I admire, only when it is directed at me," Syaoran admitted.

Sheng lowered his eyes.

"Would you allow her to see her?"

"What purpose would it serve?"

"I don't know," said Sheng. "I'm about to die. It might be nice to see something beautiful. No offense."

Syaoran's glare was swift and sharp.

"It has been suggested to me that you be executed tomorrow at noon," he said. "That your limbs be dragged throughout China and your head be left to decay on the City's wall."

"I expect nothing less. Huangdi."

Syaoran's hand shot out and gripped Sheng's cheeks tightly, making him wince in pain.

"Do not call me that, like that. Like I'm him."

All of a sudden, Syaoran was at Sheng's back and he was hearing the locks on the cage opening. His body was falling lifelessly to the floor when a strong arm caught him and laid him against a wall. Syaoran knelt in front of him.

"You are about to die so I will tell you a secret," said Syaoran, settling the lamp on the floor. "I knew when you were going to try to assassinate my father. I saw it in your eyes the day before. I did not stop you. I did not want to. In different ways, we both suffered him Li Sheng."

It had been years since Sheng was referred to as a Li. Nowhere in the palace could you find a record of him. He was stricken from history as Huangdi had commanded. To hear Syaoran acknowledge him as a Li caused his throat to close and his eyes to burn with repressed emotion.

"The truth is I never hated you. Not on my own. And I know you never hated me. Not on your own. All this rage we feel was the work of two men who despised each other. But they are not here anymore. And what they created of us, is not all that we are."

"But my father was murdered," said Sheng, his eyes awash with unfallen tears.

"There was no evidence of foul play."

"HE WAS MURDERED!" Sheng yelled, his voice cracking on the last word. "And I was left alone. A fly on a spider's web. I had no allies. What I endured… the endless torture and mind games disguised as training… I endured them alone."

Sheng's cheeks were flushed, and thick veins pulsed in the middle of his forehead.

"And still Yukito saved you from me."

"How-?"

"I saw him. Afterwards, I pretended I did not see."

Sheng did not ask for more of an explanation so Syaoran gave none.

"I do not want my son to be Huangdi," said Syaoran, more to himself than Sheng. "I want him to grow so old his bones ache when it's cold. I want him to see his great-grandchildren. I want him to have peace."

Sheng made a sound of disbelief.

"Dear cousin... as long as men exist, there will be no peace."

"My wife is not a violent person, it's true," said Syaoran. "While she does empathize with you, last night she all but told me I should kill you for attempting to kill our son. I fear above all, that one day, violence will become to her what it is to me. Ordinary."

"She wants me dead?" said Sheng.

"She is not yet as committed as I am," remarked Syaoran, glad that she was not. "I will tell you one more secret Sheng. I will survive this City. My household will survive this City. Sakura will continue to be the woman I love, and I will never twist her into what she is not meant to be."

"Impossible. This place is cursed by the gods themselves."

"That it is," said Syaoran.

He handed Sheng the dagger and his cousin looked from it to him with great suspicion.

"It's not a trick," said Syaoran. "I will place the urn with your ashes in your father's tomb. It will be unmarked, but you will be at his side."

"Why show me mercy?"

"You benefit," said Syaoran. "But I do this for myself. Killing you is what my father wanted and though you deserve to die, it won't be by my will. To be the man I choose to be, I need to defeat the evil in me. And it won't be defeated by taking one more life. Directly or indirectly."

"What about justice?"

"Justice is what I say it is. My word, like all emperors before me, is absolute."

"You deserve to die too," said Sheng.

There was no ill-will behind his words. Only fact.

"For all the wicked deeds I have perpetrated in the names of loyalty and filial piety, I do," said Syaoran. "But my wives deserve the protection of their husband. And my son deserves the love of his father. One day my evil deeds will come to find me. Rest assured, I will not resist them."

Sheng rest the pointed end of the dagger against his inner wrist and pierced the thin skin. He pulled the blade up his forearm, not a single wince marring his features. Warm blood flowed like wine at a feast down his arm, and dripped off his fingertips. He opened his other arm and dropped the blade. It clattered to the floor, the sound bouncing off the walls.

"I had planned to kill you," said Sheng, weakly. "Yet somehow I always knew, you would be the last face I saw before I died."

Syaoran stood in front of his former enemy for what must have been hours. Sheng's blood had soaked through his soft shoes to his skin by the time he realised his legs had become numb. Now the strife had truly ended. There were no more challengers to the throne who drew breath. Indeed, he was Huangdi.

A/N

Hey Tomodachi! So, there is only are only 2 more chapters before the story is concluded. I just want to take the time to say thank you to all reviewers, favouriters, private messengers and readers even if you never made a review. ^_^ Until next time, Ja ne.