I Sealed the Demon Lord for a Hundred Years, Now He Wants His Jailer novel · Chapter 23 of 24

Chapter 23: Whose Chain

Chenjue came back from the palace at dusk with the chain in a cloth bag.

Wuhen was at the kitchen table, peeling a peach with a knife that was too small for the job.

He looked up.

The demon lord stood in the doorway in the same plain coat.

He had the look of a man who has rehearsed a speech on a long road and forgotten it at the gate.

"Sit," Chenjue said.

"I am sitting."

"Stand, then," Chenjue said.

"Make up your mind."

Wuhen stood.

Chenjue drew the lake chain out of the bag, pale green, cold, coiled.

He laid it on the table between the peach and the knife.

The cuffs were bright.

Someone had polished them.

"I had it re-forged this afternoon," he said. "The sect's runes are gone. It does what a chain does, and nothing else."

"You've been busy."

"Give me your hand."

Wuhen held out his hand.

Chenjue put into it a small green key on a loop of cord, the same key, warm from his pocket.

"You have this already," Wuhen said.

"I know. It's the same one."

"Then what's..." Wuhen said.

"Watch."

Chenjue took the chain, and snapped the first cuff around his own left wrist.

It locked.

The click was small and final.

He held up the other end, the empty cuff swinging, and laid it on the table in front of Wuhen's hand.

"That is mine to wear," he said. "You have the key."

"You can take it off me in the morning, or tonight, or never."

"You can leave me on the end of it in the middle of the street and walk away," Chenjue answered.

"Chenjue..."

"I mean it. I've never given a thing to anyone," Chenjue said.

His voice shook.

"I gave you the leash. I wanted you to hold it, and I wanted you to know you could drop it."

The kitchen had gone very quiet.

A moth tapped at the window.

"The door," Chenjue said. "Go and look at it."

Wuhen went.

It was a plain timber door, with a plain iron bolt on the inside.

He drew the bolt back, and opened it.

The evening air came in, soft and blue, smelling of river and plum blossom.

The lane was empty.

Beyond it lay the bridge, and the road, and the whole wide mortal world.

There was no seal in it, and no sect, and no chain.

Nobody was stopping him.

Nobody had a hand on his arm.

He could have gone.

He stood in the open door a long time, with his hand on the frame, and the demon lord behind him did not breathe.

Then he stepped back, and shut it, and slid the bolt home.

"I'm keeping you," Wuhen said.

He turned.

Chenjue had not moved.

He stood in the middle of the kitchen, one wrist chained, his eyes wide and wet.

"You could go," he said.

"I know. That's why it counts."

Wuhen crossed the room.

He picked up the empty cuff from the table, and held it out in front of his face.

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