25 The Painting on the Wall (1/2)

The night was dark.

It always stroke her as odd how dim the nights could be on that place. There were no car lanterns, no city lights, not even a single cloud marring the peach-black sky. Only the moon, round and large, hanging precariously on a never-ending blanket of silvery stars.

Walking slowly between the shadows of trees swaing over the limits of the open fields, it felt surprisingly comforting to see the Jiang Manor's back gates finally appearing on the distance, it's tall walls looking so very small against the city's silhouette beyond.

Even there, she could already see, on the other side of the wooden doors, the flickering of torches and the moving shadows of a few guards on patrol duty, their steps light and unworried with the full moon shining her brilliant, milky glow at even the darkest of corners.

Sam slowed down, finally halting her steps on the top of the hill, right outside the house.

A slow, dew-filled breeze brushed against her long, black hair, the dampness making her shiver uncounsciously.

From that distance, watching as the Imperial City slept, it was almost like looking at a thousand fireflies, flickering their bright, neon lights between pieces of tall grass.

Inoffensive. Beautiful.

Deceivingly peaceful on the quiet hours preceding dawn.

Right there, with everything looking so far away, it occurred to Sam that was probably the best opportunity she'd ever get to run. To try and find a way to go back to her old life. Whatever was left of it, anyway.

The flute Great Daoist Master had given her was still attached to her belt, its weight against her leg reassuring smehow.

”I could get out of this mess before something blows up on my face” she murmured to the cool, night breeze ”There would be no more Crown Prince, no more General, no more court drama whatsoever...” she sighed, massaging the bridge of her nose.

If nothing else, it was tempting.

Her gaze lifted upwards, at the round, silent moon, her dark eyes searching with a nervous energy, as if seeking an answer from the celestial body.

If it knew anything, though, it never told her.

She blinked, eyebrows scrunched with uncertainty. There was no sign on the night surrounding her. No direction, no sudden inspiration.

Whatever her choice, whatever the path she took, the decision would be hers, and hers alone. There would be no fate to blame this time around.

Suddenly, as if out of nowhere, Daoist Master's words came back to her, whispering on her ears as a slight, reassuring caress.

”In this life... You were given a second chance, a new opportunity to live”

Sam closed her eyes, hands turning into tight fists.

”If you really want to honor Ying Yue, if you really don't want to waste this life, the life she was not able to maintain, you should live well. You should care for her family and do everything she would want you to do.”

Not take revenge. Not choosing to be a replacement. Just live well.

Sam breathed deeply, blinking aay the sting of tears on her eyes as Yi Ren's kindness hit her once more.

He was giving Sam leave to just... Be. To try and find her place on that strange land. Knowing everything that he knew, he had still assured Sam it was okay to take her time and find out who she was on the Jiang family.

Sam laughed, her head falling back as a few, stray tears slid silently down her cheeks, disappearing inside her high collar.

She had finally lost it. Everything that had happened on the last couple of days catching up to her, living her mind on overload.

That was the only explanation for her to be turned into that weeping mess.

Even if it shouldn't matter what he said, even if a stranger's opinion shouldn't weight so much, having someone - anyone at that point - knowing what had happened and telling her it would be okay, that she was not a terrible person to be living the life someone else was denied... It mattered.

It was like taking a huge weight out of her shoulders, one she hadn't realized she was carrying.

”Thank You” she whispered to the night, knowing that, somehow, he would hear. He would understand her.

”Oh God, I've truly gone mad” she whispered at herself, brushing away the wetness on her face with the long, large tip of her sleeves. ”What will be next? Hug each other and sing You've Got a Friend near the fire!? Samanta Courtnay, get a grip!”

Forcing a laugh at her apparent sillyness, she started making her way once more to the Jiang Manor.

”What is a name, really?” she mumbled at herself ”Sam, Ying Yue... Whatever they call me, I'm still me...” the girl smiled slightly ”Now... I just have to learn who exactly this girl is...”.

Sam knew, deep down, that taking the next step would mean no turning back again. There was just as much uncertainty anyone could take, and she felt quite full of it already.

”This time, there won't be anymore sitting on the side lines and watching life go on around me... If I'm gonna do this... Then I better do it right”.

And, for the first time since that madness had started, Sam felt it was okay to wonder... And to hope.

____

Of course they were waiting for her.

Knowing how protective Fei Hong was of his little sister, it shouldn't have come as a surprise that almost every single soul on the household had been on alert at her arrival.

Still, the thick tension hanging on the air when she crossed the treshold, just like a sharp knife waiting to drop, wasn't any less unnerving.

As she closed the gates behind her, the entire house seemed to release the breath it had been holding since she ran away. Even the tall trees appeared to relax, their long, svelt branches flowing with more ease on the night air.

From her left, she could hear distinctively as a couple of guards closer to the entrance dispersed, whispering between themselves as word that the Fifth Young Miss had finally - and safely - returned home spread around the manor like fire on the drought season.

The disturbance was like a bucket of cold water to her newfound confidence, bringing back all the doubts that had driven her away earlier on the day.

Ah Mei's beating, her uncle unwavering posture, Ying Yue's untimely death, the mistery of her relationship with the Crown Prince...

It was like waking from a beautiful dream where she was stronger, more assured of herself. A best, edited version, from the girl waiting near the wooden gates, a hand still clutching the handle as she bit her lips nervously.

Closing her eyes for a moment, trying to order her shoulders to relax, she finally let go of the door, her fingers falling instinctively to caress over the smooth surface of the jade flute.

”You made your choice, remember?” she whispered ”Live welll... Try to make the best of it... No more standing back.”

She had done it before, after her parents accident, and then again after quitting the law firm...

Bracing herself, Sam breathed deeply... And then started making her way inside the manor, on the direction that would take her to her quarters. She was but a few courtyards away from the entrance to the Inner court when a warm, orangish light coming from a room to her right suddenly caught her attention.

Curious, she turned, finding the open doors to what looked like an antiquate office, its bamboo walls a stark contrast from the other, more refined rooms of the household. From that distance, she thought she could see what seemed to be shelves covering the back walls, full of scrolls and old books. On the other side, directly opposite to the door left ajar, the diaphanous draperies floated with the breeze, flickering the flames that illuminated the place.

She crooked her head to the side. It all felt... Strangely familiar somehow.

Startling, Sam felt her hands touching the cold doorframe, her feet taking her forward without she ever noticing she had started moving.

Without thinking, she breathed in the smell of tanned leather, parchment and ink, feeling her muscles relax with the warmth of the place.

Peeking around to make sure there was no-one inside, she crossed the threshold, her steps light and unsure as she took everything in.

Sam had never seen that place before - not even in her time there - she was quite sure to have noticed a place like that. And still, the weird sense of familiarity still lingered...

Suddenly, her eyes reposed over a large painting. The lines delicate, the hues variating between yellow and brown... Dark, expressive eyes on a severe, almost god-like face. She frowned, walking closer to the portrait as she studied the large shoulders, the thunderous aura, the strength of the jaw line... It was hard not to thing that was much more the artist's fancy than the men's real stature.

Even his deep brown, almost dark robes seemed to shine under the fire light, exposing the fine lines of gold hidden on the canvas.

Entranced, her hand lifted slowly, fingers trembling as if afraid to touch the paint and discover it was nothing but a dream...

”That is Jiang Hao Chen.”

She spun on her heels so fast she almost fell, her hand going to rest over her bitting heart.

A few feels from her, resting his tall frame against the large desk, Fei Hong stared at her, his soft eyes shining with barely hidden amusement... And maybe even a tinge of relief.

”Our father” he went on, walking slowly to her side, pointedly ignoring her shocked expression or the venomous curve of her lips ”Or, at least, how the artists saw the famous God of War... I myself admit not to remember his shoulders been so large... But then again, it was all a long time ago...” he sighed, his eyes burrowing on the portrait.

Sam breathe deeply, trying to control her still racing heart as the bolt of fright slowly ebbed from her blood system.

”When...When did you get here?” she mumbled, observing him from the side of her eyes.

”I'm just arrived” her brother assured ”I usually ask Ye Qi too air this place once or twice a week... I had forgotten it was supposed to be today.”

Seeing her confused frown, he explained.

”This was our father study... And his father's before him... It is here that the Head of the Jiang family has always made the most important decisions.”