The night deepened, and the storm outside showed no sign of abating. The broken shrine, with its cracked clay Buddha and dusty altar, felt like a fragile refuge amid the relentless white world beyond.
Inside, the fire sputtered, casting flickering shadows on the rough wooden beams and the stone floor scattered with old fallen leaves. Xiao Lang sat close to the flames, rubbing his numb hands together, trying to chase away the chill that had seeped into his bones during their flight.
Across from him, Gu Jinnian remained unmoving, his eyes closed, face calm and composed as if carved from ice. The blue robes he wore blended into the darkness, save for the faint gleam of the slender sword sheathed at his side.
Time passed without a sound save for the occasional crackle of the fire and the distant howl of the wind outside.
After what felt like hours, Xiao Lang finally broke the silence.
"Why did you save me back there?" His voice was low and wary, eyes fixed on the dancing flames. "You could have left me to die with those bandits."
Gu Jinnian's eyes opened slowly, revealing piercing dark eyes that seemed to bore into Xiao Lang's very soul.
"Because your death would not serve my purpose," he answered quietly.
Xiao Lang frowned. "And what purpose is that?"
The assassin's gaze did not waver. "You are a piece on a board far larger than you realize. Your life is a thread woven into a web I must keep intact... for now."
The words sent a chill through Xiao Lang's heart, but curiosity overcame fear. "What kind of web? Who are you?"
Gu Jinnian stood and moved toward the fire, warming his hands deliberately before pulling a small vial from beneath his cloak. He uncorked it, releasing the scent of bitter herbs into the cold air.
"Drink this," he said, offering the vial without a hint of hesitation.
Xiao Lang hesitated. The liquid smelled harsh, like medicine for the gravely ill. But with no better option, he took the vial and swallowed the bitter brew. It burned down his throat, a fiery warmth that began to push away the cold that clung stubbornly to his skin.
As the potion took hold, Xiao Lang felt his limbs regain a measure of strength, and the frost that had numbed him seemed to retreat.
They sat in silence again, the firelight softening the sharp edges of their unease.
At last, Xiao Lang spoke, the words forced out through clenched teeth.
"Who are you, really?"
Gu Jinnian smiled, though it was more a tightening of lips than joy. "Some call me an assassin, others a shadow in the night. A friend, if fortune favors you."
Xiao Lang studied him, trying to read the truth hidden beneath those calm eyes. "And what is it you want from me?"
"Information, survival, and... perhaps something more." Gu Jinnian's gaze sharpened. "But for now, you must trust me."
"Trust?" Xiao Lang echoed bitterly. "Why should I trust someone who carries the mark of the Night Lamp? The assassins who wiped out half a dozen ministers in one night?"
Gu Jinnian's expression darkened, but he said nothing.
The fire dwindled to embers, and the cold crept back into the shrine's corners.
As exhaustion tugged at him, Xiao Lang heard Gu Jinnian mutter softly, almost as if to himself.
"Kill... the Crown Prince..."
The words were like a blade slipping through silk—quiet, deadly, and impossible to ignore.
Xiao Lang's eyes snapped open, heart pounding. What did he mean? Was it a command? A warning? Or a curse?
He lay awake long after the fire died, staring at the cracked ceiling, the whispered threat echoing in his mind.
Outside, the storm began to soften, the first light of dawn bleeding pale against the dark sky.
But inside the broken shrine, two shadows sat locked in silent tension, their fates now inextricably intertwined.