Rin - Chapter 234 Fleeting Breath

Standing on a carpet in front of the An Clan leader, was a tall, middle-aged man, clad in his golden armor, sword by his side. His eyes were dark and cold, with no emotions passing through them. From where he stood, An Hongyu’s face looked cold and displeased. But even then, the man’s expression did not change.

“Tell me, what brings you here…General Guo.” An Hongyu did not hide the bitterness in his tone.

“I assume you’ve received the letter from the scout.” General Guo mentioned.

“Right, the letter…” An Hongyu leaned in his chair, resting his chin on his fist. “I had my servant read it aloud. But after the first sentence, I decided to have it burned.”

Despite the mockery in his expression and tone, General Guo remained unfazed.

“In that case, I brought another. His Majesty suspected such an accident would happen.” General Guo took a letter from his pocket and handed it to the nearest servant.

Seeing his cool and collected composure, An Hongyu scowled. His hands resting in the armrest clenched, the sound of a crack coming from the wood. When the servant passed him the letter, his eyes coldly rested on it for a moment before snatching it. Reading its contents, An Hongyu’s expression gradually changed.

His eyes swept over to General Guo and narrowed. “You want to form an alliance?”

“The Northern Empire would like to, yes.” The answer came with no hesitation, clear and crisp.

There was a silence then, and General Guo could feel the tightness in the air around them. An Hongyu looked down at the letter again and tightened his lips behind his thick, black beard.

“The Bai family along with the emperor himself, offer to provide you a share of land, resources, and protection from any enemies that shall come your way in the nearby future.” General Guo paused as if he were weighing what he would say. “That is if you promise to withhold your attacks in the north and further empires. If we’re to align with one another, we do not wish to associate ourselves with conflict among other regions.”

There was silence. Silence, apart from the sound of the slowly crackling braziers in the heated room. An Hongyu’s face was still; utterly still. General Guo said nothing, allowing the clan leader a moment to his thoughts.

After a few minutes, An Hongyu set the letter down, his thick fingers rubbing the ends of the paper, wearing it a little.

“I will consider your offer,” He paused. “Until then, we will hold off our attacks. Only in the north.”

Lowering his head, General Guo stepped out of the yurt and walked to his horse. Along the way, he could feel the eyes of numerous Tuhan men and clan members watching his movements intensely.

Disregarding their stares, General Guo approached his horse…when he suddenly stopped. Flickering his eyes across the campgrounds, they landed on a figure wearing a hooded white cloak. The pure color of white compared to the dark surroundings, they were like freshly fallen snow, soft and crisp. The hooded cloak hid their features, but for a moment, General Guo felt as if he had seen a familiar face.

Or more precisely, familiar eyes.

He stared at them for a few more seconds and glanced away. Perhaps he was missing the girl too much.

Mounting on his horse, the general’s figure departed from the camp. Lifting their head from beneath their cloak, a pale face and emerald eyes watched the Bai General leave until his figure disappeared.

…

Dawn settled. There were men everywhere, sharpening their swords, putting points on crude spears, donning makeshift armor of hiding, horn, and bone. Their campfires sending up smoky fingers to scratch against the pale dawn sky.

In a yurt, An Hongyu sat behind his desk, fingers wrapped around a brush and his eyes on a blank, pale piece of paper. A flickering candle burned on a low table beside a flagon of wine, spicing the air with the scent of jasmine.

Fiddling with the brush in his hand, he finally began to write. After a few sentences, he poured himself some wine and sipped, warming his dry mouth with honey and clove wine. Smacking his lips, he wrote some more. He was on his third cup and half the night had passed before he had finished his letter.

Coughing into his fist, he took a swallow of wine and coughed again, more violently. His throat had only felt even drier. An Hongyu coughed spat and coughed again.

He took another drink or tried to as all the wine came spewing back out when another spate of coughing doubled him over. His face was turning red. The sudden spasm of pain made An Hongyu’s hands tighten. His nails dug into the tables wood, and he gave a muffled scream. His uncontrollable fits of coughing brought up gobs of bloody phlegm.

No one came to help him, nor even peered through a window to see what was the matter. The windows were shuttered, the doors barred. All that could be heard was the sound of Tuhan men rattling along outside the yurt.

“H-Hel…” An Hongyu’s words broke up in a fit of coughing. He spat out a mouthful of blood, his body falling heavily on the floor, a dark red wine spilling by his feet.

He began to claw at his throat, his nails tearing bloody gouges in the flesh, still choking. Suddenly, the sound of footsteps sounded nearby, walking closer to the yurt. The sound of the door opened as the person walked inside.

An Hongyu raised his head through chokes. His eyes landed on a pair of white, delicate feet. They looked so pure. Lifting his eyes, he froze. A pair of eyes stared back at him. Green tendrils circled his pupil, filling up his iris with every wonder in life, intoxicating An Hongyu with their depth.

However, the face belonging to them was cold.

They watched him with an empty stare. An Hongyu was making a dry clacking noise, trying to speak. His eyes bulged white with terror, a trembling hand lifting to the pale man. His face was only growing darker until finally, his hand dropped.

In a puddle of wine, An Hongyu lay there, his body limp and lifeless on the floor. The pale man stared at him for a moment longer before shifting his eyes around the room. They landed on the paper on the desk. Quietly walking over, his soft gaze landed on the letter written by An Hongyu. Drops of wine bled into the white paper.

He raised it into the candlelight to read and very quickly, the light in his eyes vanished.

“An alliance…” His soft voice said the words like a whispering wind.

With empty eyes, he lifted the letter to the candle flames. He watched as the letter coiled like a child into the burning fire, darkness swallowing its written words until it was nothing but a pile of ash. Rubbing the ash between his pale fingers, he turned away.

Just as he entered, he disappeared from the yurt leaving only the corpse of An Hongyu.