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1. Su Zhe
From the very first day, Su Zhe knew the boys would be trouble.
It’s not that he went looking for them at first. When all of this first started, he was Dark River's Kui, and there was no attention to spare for the Three Families' affairs. He had been fully focused on the Patriarch’s safety and overseeing the Zhuying Sect, multiple plans and contingencies constantly taking up all of his attention. It was only when the Patriarch had no immediate use for him or his Zodiacs and Su Zhe finally returned to the Su family that talk among the family elders reached him: “Did you hear about the two Nameless?” “They’re the most promising upcoming assassins we’ve had in a while…” And not long after, rumours that Su Jinhui was eyeing them to join the Su family started emerging.
Su Zhe’s curiosity got the best of him of course—that insatiable need to know was not in the nature of a good assassin, but Su Zhe had always been different, it’s what made him so exceptional—so one day, when the sky was dark and Soul Reaper Hall was quiet, he went to the training grounds to take a look for himself. He settled on top of a large boulder overlooking the field filled with boys all dressed in the same plain, coarse uniforms, his staff resting by his side.
Su Zhe spotted them almost immediately. It was hard not to, when the rest of the training group were focused solely on them, their instructors doing nothing to stop them.
There was the taller, quieter one. He wielded a sword like it was an extension of himself, an air of vague dignity clinging to his shoulders even as he was besieged, blades narrowly missing him as he deflected numerous strikes. Then there was the smaller one, a snarl twisting his features like the entangled gnarls of the oldest yinxing trees. Daggers spun in his hands as he whirled and lunged, a truly manic sneer decorating his lips as he threw a boy nearly a head taller than him straight into a large rock, knocking him out cleanly.
When the instructors finally called for a brief recess, Su Zhe's interest was piqued even further. The smaller one’s wild expression melted away as he looked at his friend, replaced by a pure, fervent devotion, the taller one looking back with eyes so soft and wide, Su Zhe was immediately brought back to memories of his wife, his daughter.
It was something Su Zhe hadn’t seen in a very long time, not among the Nameless, not within the blood related members of the Three Families, and only very rarely in the wider jianghu. Su Zhe had never expected to see such devotion in a place such as Dark River.
When Su Zhe left the training grounds, he already knew: these boys were going to be the ones to change Dark River, or they were going to die trying.
-
When it came time for the pair to enter the Wailing Ghost Abyss, Su Zhe didn’t bat an eyelid when Mu Zizhe (the bastard) put them both in the same group. It was clear sabotage, but Su Zhe put it out of his mind; this didn’t concern him, not yet. There was no connection to speak of, especially when they didn’t even have their names.
Not long later, word broke that the taller Nameless (Su Muyu, he reminded himself) had challenged the Patriarch himself, bargained with him for both of their lives. Su Zhe couldn’t quite find it in him to be surprised. Others might have assumed that the smaller, angrier one—Su Changhe—would be the one to break and mutiny, but Su Zhe had seen a rock-solid determination in Su Muyu that would not be moved. That naivety, that pure bull-headed resolution to twist any situation into one that benefited him—that was something not many people had.
That type of resolve was dangerous. Su Zhe had seen greater societies and organisations fall under the influence of such individuals.
(Once upon a time, he would’ve included Xiao Ruofeng, Prince Langya, amongst those numbers. But as Xiao Ruojin’s power grew and Xiao Ruofeng sat in his palace and let it happen, a dark, choking miasma crawling inexorably across Tianqi City, Su Zhe spitefully struck his name from his mental list.)
The first time Su Zhe saw the boys dressed in the dark fabrics of a proper Dark River assassin was when they were officially introduced to each other. There was a fanatic glint in Changhe’s eyes as he caressed the knives their shifu had given him, and a resigned fire burned in Muyu’s gaze. Su Zhe smiled.
He looked forward to seeing what they would do.
2. Mu Yumo
Mu Yumo knew very well who she was and what kind of legacy she left behind with every mission she took, returning to Dark River with phantom traces of syrupy blood dripping from her hands. Perhaps a more well-adjusted person would find it abhorrent, but she grew up in the Mu family; the endless training, the inability to ever fully relax, and the news that people she knew were never coming back were simply matter-of-fact. By the time she'd grown old enough to perhaps entertain thoughts of treachery, she'd already accepted her lot in life (and besides—to question Dark River was to court death, and the one thing Dark River had taught her best was the instinct to survive).
She’d had it easier than some others, with Mu blood running through her veins (although that came with its own expectations, intolerable burdens) and as such, she’d always been privy to more information than most. Of course, she was also trained to be as adept at gaining information as any one individual could be. Sometimes, as a small brush on the arm or the slight lowering of lashes obliterated the strongest of resolves, the thought lingered in her mind: it was almost sad how easy her job was.
-
When she was a teenager, whispers started emerging about a pair of Nameless, the elder's murmurs carrying like the barest suggestion of light filtering through thick fog down the ranks until they reached young Yumo's curious ears.
The first time she laid eyes on them was their official induction ceremony. She hadn't been among those chosen to attend—too young, they thought—but it was easy to sneak into the hall and observe the ceremony without being spotted. She distinguished them immediately, joined at the hip as they were. Almost unconsciously, they moved around each other like they'd known each other all their lives (they might as well have, she mused. Dark River was a place where you forgot your past. Remembering was too harrowing, simply not worth the torment).
When one moved forward to swear his oath to Dark River, the other also started forward, before checking himself and abortedly moving back in line. When they returned to each other's sides, their shoulders brushed, light as the flutter of a butterfly's wing, and stayed there. Yumo thought she saw the taller one, Su Muyu, grab Su Changhe's hand for a brief second. Something trembled in her chest.
Would she ever find something as all-encompassing as what they had?
She left the hall silently, unobserved.
-
The pair ascended through the ranks as easily as breathing, first surpassing their peers, then their handlers, and even the highest ranked members, until they were two of the Su family's greatest assets and Dark River's most proficiently lethal assassins.
It was years later when Su Changhe and Su Muyu were introduced to Yumo properly, for the first time.
"Meimei! We meet at last," Changhe grinned wide and irreverent, only shallowly dipping his head.
Muyu, in contrast, greeted her with a proper bow.
"Mu Yumo, we've heard a lot," he said, his voice low but warm. When he straightened up, a small smile touched his face. Yumo only had an inkling back then, but even an inkling was enough—Su Muyu was not like the rest of them—not like Changhe, not like Yumo herself. He was something rare, a golden ray of righteousness that somehow hadn't been stamped out by Dark River.
Not long after, Su Zhe resigned from being the Kui—something unprecedented, absolutely unheard of—and Su Muyu took over. As soon as she could, Yumo followed him into the Zhuying Sect. When she was given her moniker ("Welcome, Rabbit," Muyu smiled down on her then) and the mask that came along with it—a lovely lilac thing, shimmering in all its iridescent, contorted glory—she almost felt that golden ray of righteousness reach her.
At first, Changhe visited often, even when Muyu took his Zodiacs to the farthest reaches of the jianghu. Muyu transformed then, no longer the cold, efficient Kui; instead, a man made of flesh and blood who would laugh and roll his eyes and relax like he never did when it was just him and the Zodiacs.
But then the years rolled on, time remorselessly dragging them through their lives, and Changhe visited less and less. (Yumo wasn't as informed on Dark River's internal affairs as she was before she joined the Zhuying Sect, but it came as no surprise to her when rumours of unrest, of a new faction rising, reached her at the same time. Changhe had always been far too ambitious to stay content with Dark River's status quo.)
"Yu-ge," Yumo finally asked, once, when they were staked out in the middle of nowhere, following the Patriarch's every move no matter his whims, "Why doesn't Changhe come around anymore?"
Muyu gave her the barest smile. "That's Changhe-ge to you, he'd cuff you around the head if he heard you disrespect him like that."
Yumo rolled her eyes and nudged Muyu's shoulder. "He's barely older than I am."
Muyu only gave her another wan smile before his eyes glazed over, staring into the distance, his mind as far away as an albatross floating on distant, wintry winds. And so Yumo let it go.
She followed Muyu without question, and would for the rest of her life (not unconditionally, but because of the kindness that burned steadily in the cradle of his chest; that kindness that drew all of Muyu's Zodiacs to him, a warmth they strained towards as though it would bleed through his skin and soak into their own.) Sometimes, she found herself looking for the outline of someone who was hardly there anymore, leaving a hollow vacancy where a grinning madman ought to be. She found herself missing said madman, who Muyu was when he was around him, and the wild amusement that swelled in her chest when he did something outrageous. But then she'd put her lilac Rabbit mask on, and nothing else mattered anymore.
3. Bai Hehuai
The townspeople rarely looked at Bai Hehuai weirdly now. At first, they stared nonstop, furtive side glances and scurrying away whenever she ventured out into the market. Eventually, however, the allure of her medical ability overrode their fear and they braved the Heyu Clinic for various remedies.
It may have had something to do with the individuals seen entering and exiting her clinic at all hours.
When it was just Su Muyu, decked in his cheerful light green robes and with his genial, amenable demeanour, everything went smoothly. And then along came Su Changhe with his foul mouth and roguish appearance, bringing Dark River operatives who, like Changhe, didn't find it necessary to avoid attention despite being assassins, and so Heyu Clinic and its inhabitants became something to avoid.
Thank the Heavens that changed (it got old after a while, as the townspeople got used to the slightly sinister presence) else her beloved clinic would have gone bankrupt. She would have killed Changhe for the humiliation (not that Muyu would have let her, but a woman could dream).
Hehuai enjoyed market days much more now, sometimes dragging her father along with her. Once she ticked off all the herbs the clinic needed, the rest of the day consisted of browsing, buying little snacks and trinkets here and there, her father following along with the fondest little smile on his face.
One night, after having bought many more items than usual—the aunties were scarily persuasive—she returned to Muyu and Changhe sitting together in the gazebo, passing a small dish of sunflower seeds between them. As a result, they witnessed Hehuai hauling several large bags stuffed to the brim through the doors of Heyu Clinic. Muyu looked a little nonplussed. "Does the market have that many things to buy?" he asked.
Hehuai's jaw dropped in outrage. "Of course! Have you never stepped foot in one before?" she asked.
"We've been to markets a few times," Changhe's head tilted to the side like a dog. "But it's not as if we were there on vacation," he snorted, tossing a sunflower seed up into the air, which fell perfectly into his open mouth. Showoff.
Hehuai went to snap at Changhe—something cutting and witty, it was on the tip of her tongue—but then she paused. Of course. They grew up in Dark River, and any trips they took into the wider jianghu would've been either for a mission or for training. They'd never properly had a vacation, had they? Hehuai bit her lip, suddenly feeling very heavy, like the immense pressures of the deepest sea were bearing down on her.
This, she thought to herself, needs to be remedied.
Luckily, there were no pressing appointments the next day, so Hehuai woke up early, determination thrumming through her body.
"Get up!" she yelled through the door into Changhe and Muyu's room, already fully dressed by chenshi.
Hehuai heard grumbling through the door, and then the distinct sound of something hitting the door ("Changhe!" a sleepy Muyu chastised). She grinned.
Not long after, with more grumbling on Changhe's part (the excited glint in his eye, like a child's, didn't escape Hehuai's notice), she finally hauled them both out of the clinic, leaving Zhaoyan and her father to supervise.
-
Hehuai dragged Muyu by the hand through the streets, weaving in between people as Changhe complained loudly from where he fell behind. "Slow down, laozi can't catch up!"
"Stop complaining, you useless dog!" Hehuai called out behind her. (She'd never admit it in a million years—except, maybe to Muyu—but she'd grown fond of Changhe. When his brash facade fell away and Hehuai felt the ferocious care he directed at those he deemed deserving—that was a feeling she'd never felt before.)
The day passed in a haze of warm sunlight and soft smiles, and Muyu's gentle chiding and Changhe's unrestrained cackles were the sweetest of accompaniments.
At some point, Hehuai saw Changhe stop at a stall, picking up a sword tassel. It had a white jade centrepiece, intricate knotwork connecting the deep blue tassels to the smooth, cloudy jade. He looked at it for only a brief second, before tossing a silver tael to the shopkeeper ("T-Thank you, gongzi!") and holding the tassel out to Muyu.
"Here, take it. It suits you," Changhe said, an unusually gentle expression on his face. Muyu's responding smile was radiant, eyes incandescendently warm. He reached out to take the tassel, hand brushing Changhe's in a caress as he did so.
Hehuai was helpless to stop a fond smile spreading across her face.
-
When they finally collapsed at a table by an outdoor stall, mirth still bubbling in their chests, the sun was already low in the sky, casting an orange glow over the market.
Hehuai beamed at them both. The jianghu may have been closing in around them, the grasping fingers growing stronger and more assured, but for now, they basked in their little corner of Nan'an City, sticky tanghulu dripping down the curves between their fingers as laughter rang out bright and delighted as the clearest of bells.\
Interlude: Somewhere in Yan County
A-Bai has worked the same stretch of land for decades. His skin was tan and leathery, the years under the sun impressed upon his body. Time has not been kind, some would say, but smile lines have engraved themselves deep in A-Bai's skin, and the crinkles beside his eyes appeared when he was barely twenty and never left.
It was a summer day just like any other when they suddenly appeared—two dark-clad men who could not be more out of place. Their robes were of a quality A-Bai could not hope to afford even with several years of his earnings, and they were adorned with the finest silver inlaid in their leather garments and dripping from their hair. Their faces were incomparably beautiful; A-Bai had the distinct feeling he was visited by immortals.
They were accompanied by the town's magistrate, who mopped at his face nervously with a damp handkerchief. When he spotted A-Bai, he came scurrying over.
"Magistrate Shen," A-Bai greeted him curiously, eyes still lingering on the two men, who loitered behind.
"A-Bai," the magistrate sounded harried, "I'm so sorry to impose on you so suddenly, but I remembered you mentioning that, with your children all married off, you need some help on the farm."
A-Bai nodded cautiously, brow wrinkling.
"Well it just so happens that these two gentlemen here are looking for work!" Magistrate Shen's eyes were a little spooked. "Come, come," the magistrate gestured to the two men over, "This is-,"
"Just call me Xiao Yu," the taller of the two bowed deeply, perfectly poised and calm, as the magistrate spluttered in the background. "This is A-He," Xiao Yu gestured to the man next to him, "We're honoured to have the chance to work with you." A-He smiled impishly at A-Bai, waving a hand.
Bewildered, A-Bai opened his mouth to speak, to ask a few more questions because-
Magistrate Shen cast him a pleading look. A-Bai sighed, internally shrugged his shoulders and gestured towards his (now quiet, empty) house. "Come, I'll show you two around."
The first few days were odd. Both Xiao Yu and A-He were strangely curious to learn, an earnestness in them both that felt out of place with their otherwordly bearings. Soon, however, as nothing abnormal happened, A-Bai relaxed, and they fell into a rhythm. Xiao Yu and A-He stayed in the guest room together (it was lucky that they were so understanding when A-Bai explained that he only had the one spare room), and every morning, they diligently woke up on time to either help A-Bai in the fields or with various errands.
Occasionally, a few others turned up, always to meet with Xiao Yu and A-He. They would disappear into the house for a shichen or two before the strangers invariably ended up working the fields for either A-Bai or one of the other farmers; sometimes they even helped out the storekeepers in the village. They always disappeared without so much as a mention of payment. It was incredibly baffling, but the strangers were both helpful and quiet, and so the villagers gossiped under their breaths while doing nothing to stop them.
Xiao Yu had a haunted look on his face, sometimes. A-Bai worked up the courage one day to ask A-He about it.
"He lost someone recently," A-He said, a rare solemnity settling over his face, gazing after his friend with sad eyes, "It's been hard on him."
Hard on you both, A-Bai thought to himself when A-He rejoined Xiao Yu in 'working' the field—in other words, spitefully striking dirt with more force than was warranted, using tools that, before long, were on their last legs.
And so the year passed in that manner.
The next summer, A-Bai woke to find them gone. Xiao Yu and A-He, the mysterious people they sometimes brought with them—all missing. The spare room was as empty and pristine as it had been before they moved in, except for the lack of a thick layer of dust that would have otherwise laid there. The only indication they had ever lived in that house was a moderately sized bag of silver taels sitting on the table in the main room, a letter wedged under it.
Immaculate calligraphy spelled out:
To A-Bai:
Thank you for your abundant hospitality. We apologise for not saying goodbye, but we had to leave urgently. You have been a great friend over the last year, and we hope to meet again someday.
Take care.
Your friends, Xiao Yu and A-He.
On the other side of the paper, in a significantly messier scrawl:
If you're ever in need, ask Magistrate Shen for Muyu and Changhe. He'll know what to do.
A-Bai put the letter down helplessly, staring at the silver taels in disbelief. With careful budgeting, he'd never have to work again.
Somehow, something deep in his weathered bones told him that he'd never see any of them ever again (a good thing, many would say), but A-Bai knew their memory would stay with him until he, too, disappeared from the world.
4. Xiao Chuhe
Xiao Chuhe Se never enjoyed the faction fights that came with his birthright as an imperial prince, and he certainly never expected his generation to draw in individuals from all corners of the jianghu–and beyond–in their fight for succession. Some of these individuals he only heard murmurs of when he was young. He'd learned of the others when he left Tianqi to wander, Xiao Ruofeng’s ghost shadowing his every step.
He’d heard of the Lei and Tang Clans of course — the Four Guardians and their ties to their birth clans were widely known. Baixiao Hall, Wushuang City, Wangcheng Mountain; one by one, his uncle patiently traced out their different strengths, their specialties, their allegiances and their grievances. Chuhe listened diligently, grave resolution carved into his face even at that young age. It was his obligation as Prince Langya's successor, after all.
Tianwaitian, he'd also known of for quite some time; the mess that Ye Dingzhi and Baili Dongjun left behind was an event of catastrophic proportions that everyone across the jianghu and within Tianqi knew about. Banished as they were beyond the borders of Beili, however, any new information he gained was only through the silk-thin threads of jianghu gossip. (When he'd tried to ask Baili Dongjun about it, the Liquor Deity's face turned to pale, featureless stone, and Chuhe never asked again.)
Only one faction was nearly as recalcitrant as Tianwaitian, the shroud of mystery around them almost as thick and impenetrable as that surrounding the Demon Sect. Of course, this faction was Dark River, the vaguest contour of an idea that somehow stained every corner of both the jianghu and the imperial court. Their reach was unfathomable and inexplicable. Imperial records were highly redacted and protected, of course, but Xiao Chuhe was the favoured, genius prince for a reason—he felt the presence of something Other left in the gaps of the archival tales.
Still, he found himself utterly unsurprised when he finally came face to face with the fabled leaders of Dark River. The Patriarch and the Su Family Head, Su Changhe and Su Muyu, the Undertaker and the Umbrella Ghost – two individuals whose names were uttered in hushed tones, fear striking down the backs of those who dared mention them.
Xiao Se was travelling with Tang Lian, Lei Wujie and, somewhat unexpectedly, Li Hanyi, who decided to keep an eye on her didi while the jianghu was in so much turmoil. They were on their way back to Xueyue City to reconvene with Sikong Changfeng and the rest when the sky grew dark. Ragged clouds and impenetrable fog gathered with a deep rumble that reverberated through the forest around them. The trees themselves shuddered, their leaves shaken loose to float to the ground with a whispering rustle.
Abruptly, the rumbling paused, a disconcerting silence settling over the forest. Xiao Se didn't move throughout any of this, keeping his arms crossed in front of him, but Lei Wujie and Li Hanyi drew their swords, and Tang Lian's hand rested, light as a crouching tiger, over the pouch containing his various poisons and tricks. Within one blink and the next, two figures clad in black appeared: one taller, with an umbrella raised over his head; and one shorter, wearing a wide-brimmed hat with the hilts of two daggers glimmering at his belt.
To Xiao Se's surprise, it was Li Hanyi who first lowered her sword, a disbelieving laugh erupting from her.
"I should've known it was you two," she said, her sword still in her hand, but now pointing at the ground. "How many years has it been, Su Changhe, Su Muyu?" she asked, nodding at them with wary familiarity.
Lei Wujie nearly dropped his sword, spluttering, his eyes wide as the full moon as he gaped between his sister and the two figures, "Su-Su Changhe? Su Muyu? Dark River? Jiejie, w-what?"
What interested Xiao Se most, however, was Tang Lian's reaction when a third figure joined them. A woman dressed in dark purples and blacks, outlined with shimmering silver details, walked into the clearing to stand beside the Dark River heads. As she removed her weimao, a peerlessly beautiful face was revealed. A lilac huadian glinted on her forehead, and delicate peach blossom eyes curved into a faint smile.
"Aren't you going to say hello to your shiniang?" she asked, tilting her head as she smiled at Tang Lian, who gaped back at her.
"Shiniang?" Xiao Se echoed, tilting his head.
The murderous energy previously simmering around the Dark River Patriarch partially dissipated as Su Changhe stowed away his blades, crossing his arms and complaining loudly.
"This brat is your Tang Lianyue's disciple?" The Patriarch sighed loudly and settled an arm around the still-unsmiling Umbrella Ghost's shoulders. "Are we not allowed to beat him up, then?" Still, his eyes glittered with barely concealed malice.
Finally, Su Muyu spoke, settling a hand on Su Changhe's forearm. "Changhe, we came here for a reason. Don't get distracted."
The feared Patriarch of the greatest assassin organisation in the jianghu huffed and rolled his eyes, shooting him an exasperated glare. But he did not, Xiao Se noted with interest, remove Su Muyu's hand from his arm, but rather patted it twice before turning back to their little group.
Su Changhe's easygoing demeanour finally fell away like a flimsy shroud discarded, and as he stared directly into Xiao Se's eyes, Xiao Se finally understood what it felt like to see centuries in a person's gaze. The weight of the world struck Xiao Se like a blow — Su Changhe's eyes were unfathomable abysses seething with the desperate turmoil of a thousand souls.
His words, however, were direct and clear as a summer storm.
"We, Dark River, request an audience with Prince Yong'an, Xiao Chuhe. We'd like to arrange an alliance."
Xiao Chuhe tilted his head slightly, thinking it over. A faint smirk touched the corners of his lips.
+1. Su Muyu
Xiao Chong, the new emperor himself, extended an invitation to the coronation banquet when it was all over. Changhe snorted when he saw the letter, complete with a stamp from the imperial seal.
"Is this emperor's head filled with air? He can't be serious," he said, thrusting the letter towards Muyu. "Dark River? At an imperial event? The Three Officials and the rest of the old heads would spit blood if they saw what we've become." Changhe suddenly looked thoughtful. "Then again-"
"Don't even think about it, you'd never survive an imperial feast," Muyu said, snatching the letter back and tucking it into his waistband. His chest was suddenly very, very warm with fondness for the ridiculous, knife-spinning man.
"Ah, that's true," Changhe nodded in mock disappointment. "I suppose we'll have to go back to Dark River to give everyone the good news, they've worked for this for so long." His forehead creased in that way Muyu loved, where he desperately wanted to press between his brows and smooth the crease out. Changhe's dark eyes looked at him, liquid and mellow.
"It's hard to believe it's all over," Muyu said, absentmindedly running his hand over the sword attached at his waist. "We did it. We reached the Other Shore."
They fell silent, the weight of the realisation slowly becoming more and more real. The fight for succession was breakneck, so tumultuous that no one had time to process anything—Tianwaitian's involvement, Prince Chi's desperation, the reappearance of Prince Langya's successor, the parade of Sword Deities and Spear Deities and however-many-other Deities—too much kept happening, one after the other, and it was hard enough to keep track of all the moving parts, let alone properly work through the implications.
"What do you want to do, after we're done with all of this?" Changhe asked suddenly, face very serious.
Muyu thought about it. A swarm of jumbled words and images and emotions materialized in his mind.
I want Dark River to be something good.
I want all of us to finally be free to do what we want.
I want to spend an entire day sitting under a tree drinking baijiu together because there's nothing to do.
I want to wake up next to you every morning, at whatever time we choose, basking in the sunlight through the open window.
I want to live a boring life with you.
I want us to be happy.
Muyu didn't say all of that—there was no need. He simply smiled at Changhe, the words falling easily from his lips like plum blossoms falling from a tree: "I want to be with you, of course."