16. The Grand Mountain Master
Chapter sixteen
The Grand Mountain Master
Leo
Monique did it. She finished the final challenge.
As we descended the darkened mountain path, the chill of the night seeped into my bones.
It was a cold that I welcomed—a sharp reminder that I was still here, still alive, and still bound by the decisions I’d made. Decisions that had twisted the course of countless lives—none more so than the woman I now carried in my arms.
Monique.
The new Mountain Mistress.
The reluctant queen that I had carved from innocence and shaped with blood and death.
She saw dead bodies rising up to follow her. Was it the tea? And more important, will that go away in the morning?
She had drunk the tea I had prepared for her.
Dragon’s Pulse.
The name alone carried a legacy older than any of us, whispered in the stories of ancient warlords and warriors who wanted not just victory, but dominion.
It was a brew born of fire and shadow, one that promised power but came with a price. A concoction that pushed the drinker to the edge of what they could bear, pumping them full of adrenaline and inflating their courage to the point of recklessness.
And sometimes. . .beneath that boldness, it summoned demons from the recesses of their minds, blurring the line between what was real and what was an illusion.
It must wear off. I will not forgive myself if I shattered her mind.
I had spent hours preparing that tea for her.
Crimson Thorn Petals had been steeped at precisely the right temperature, their properties carefully monitored to awaken the surge of energy and strength without letting the poison seep through.
Emberroot Essence had been added in deliberate, trembling drops, each one coiling in the hot water like serpents.
The final touch—the Shadow Lotus Powder, a pinch that dissolved into black wisps, stirred counterclockwise seven times.
Seven.
No more, no less.
The ritual was sacred, deadly, and absolute.
She had sipped it without knowing and I watched the transformation throughout the night, saw the way her eyes glistened with a fierceness that hadn’t been there before.
She became a force, wild and unyielding, a glimpse of the true power she was capable of wielding.
It had been necessary, this push beyond her limits.
I will not regret this. She is now. . .and truly. . .my little monster.
Song’s footsteps crunched alongside mine.
I glanced down at Monique, her lashes were dark against her cheeks. A small cut above her brow still trickling a thin line of blood.
Even now, blood-streaked and bruised, she is captivating.
It was an unwelcome thought, one that I had tried to bury countless times.
The weight of Monique’s body pressed against my chest, warm despite the frigid air.
Her breaths were soft, almost fragile.
She was sleeping, her exhaustion pulling her into a deep oblivion after the carnage she’d endured—and created—back in that tent.
I smiled.
She fucking did it. I had my doubts that she could even survive yet. . .they bowed to her. Cowards. Idiots. They could have killed her easily but that is the difference between followers and monsters.
I felt the steady thrum of her heartbeat against me, and for a moment, my resolve wavered.
My sweet Monique.
Power was a beast that devoured everything in its path, leaving nothing untouched. It required sacrifices, demanded blood, and often feasted on the very ones who wielded it.
I knew this well.
For decades, I had embraced the role of villain, sharpening my fangs and hiding the parts of myself that would betray weakness.
Monique, God help me, was the sharpest edge I had ever forged.
Now, my bloodline will be stronger than ever.
Soft snores left Monique.
I looked up at my brother. “Did Deng get all of it on camera?”
“He did.”
“Every shot of her guns?”
“Yes.”
“Everybody that fell?”
“That too.”
“And when she fiercely yelled at them?”
“All of it, Leo.” Song’s eyes flicked to me. "Deng has the footage. He will edit it and then within an hour he will send the video off to every news outlet in the East.”
“Have him send it to the ones in Paradise City too. All should see what the Mountain Mistress has done.”
“We promised not to have her family see it.”
“Lei will make sure her sisters don’t see it. I’m confident in that, but the rest of her family should know that she can wield violence too. They should be very afraid. She is a monster after all.”
Song put his view in front of us. “Then, I’ll instruct Deng.”
We continued down the path.
Our men trailed behind us.
By morning, Paradise City would learn soon enough what had transpired tonight. In the East, they would whisper about Monique, the outsider who had taken a seat that was never meant for her, a seat that no one would know that I had forced her to claim.
I looked down at her face, streaked with smears of blood and dirt, yet somehow still radiant in her unconsciousness.
There was a peace there, delicate and deceptive, that clawed at something buried deep within me.
She’s so beautiful.
These nights were rare when I allowed myself to dwell on this feeling—this uninvited and foolish attraction for her.
How could it take my son so long to truly make her his? She’s just. . .captivating. . .No. Stop it.
These thoughts were as unnecessary as they were dangerous.
Yet, as the moonlight cast her features in a soft glow, something tugged at my heart.
A year ago, when I first began to weave this plan, there had been moments when a thought crossed my mind—small, fleeting seconds where I wondered if I could just stay alive and keep Monique for myself.
If I could abandon this path of calculated ruin and seize a happiness that was not mine to claim.
But I knew better.
Such desires were selfish.
Ungodly.
Lei needed her more than I ever could. My son, with his fractured spirit and haunted eyes, needed her light to guide him through the shadows I had created.
But knowing that fact and believing it were two very different things.
As I felt the steady rise and fall of her chest, a question whispered through my mind.
Am I making the right choice? Should I simply give her to Lei?
Monique shifted slightly in her sleep.
Next, her brow furrowed as if a nightmare tried to reclaim her.
I tightened my hold, subtly enough that no one else would notice but enough to reassure her, even in unconsciousness, that she was safe. Safe in the arms of the man who had pushed her to become something she never wanted to be.
The irony was not lost on me.
“Leo.” Song’s voice went low.
I put my view on him. “Yes?”
His eyes didn’t meet mine but I could sense the question in them.
The doubt.
“Careful, Leo.”
“I’m just carrying her to bed. That is it. What else should I do? Put her on the ground and let her sleep there?”
“I could carry her.”
“That is unnecessary.”
“In the cabin, you had your hands on her earlier—”
“I was consoling her. You act like we were making love in the cabin when you walked in. Stop it.”
“I know you well, brother. I know what it means when you look at a woman in certain ways. We’ve talked about this—”
“Therefore, we do not need to talk about this again.” I focused on the path ahead.
The ground beneath us was treacherous with uneven rocks and loose gravel threatening to trip us if we weren’t careful.
It was a perfect metaphor for the path I mentally walked on.
One misstep and everything could come crashing down.
Song knew this as well as I did. He had seen the price of my choices, had stood by my side through every brutal decision. And while loyalty was a currency I valued; it was not without cost.
Against my will, my gaze drifted back to Monique.
She was my little weapon, yes, but she was also so much more.
I had seen it the moment she entered our world, defiant despite her vulnerability, her spirit refusing to be broken. That was why I had chosen her.
Not just because of my wife.
Not just because she could be shaped but because she could endure .
And Lei, despite his power, needed someone who could match his fire with resilience, someone who could withstand the monster I had created in him.
It was all so perfect.
She’d passed all my tests.
So. . .why am I not. . .truly happy?
I gritted my teeth.
Because. . .in the end. . .I can’t stop thinking. . .what of my own desires?
I couldn’t shut this part of me off. Couldn’t stop it. That gnawing, unwanted yearning that surfaced whenever I looked at her, whenever her laughter rang through my dark soul or when her eyes met mine.
She caught me by surprise today. Almost killed me. . .and I. . .went hard. . .
I swallowed down the embarrassment.
The student challenged the teacher. She’s such a perfect little monster.
And just like that my attraction began to rise for her again and it took all of me—all of my energy—to push it down, where it belonged, where all my weaknesses were kept, locked away in the dark corners of my mind.
Song spoke. “Do you think she is truly ready to serve now?”
I glanced at him, surprised that he would ask, after all that had happened. "She’s more than ready. She’s stronger than Lei, Chen, and Duck. She will keep them in line with a feminine touch. And her heart. . .well. . .it ensures they’ll rule the East with humanity, peace, and love—three things I never learned to lead with.”
He nodded, accepting the answer.
Minutes later, we reached a plateau, a brief respite from the steep path, and I adjusted my hold on Monique.
Her head shifted slightly, resting against my chest, and I felt the thrum of her heartbeat against mine.
It was a cruel message letting me know what I would never have.
Don’t be selfish. Think of Lei. Think of the East.
I had fought for a lot—power, control, and the survival of my bloodline.
The world didn’t care for those who faltered, who allowed sentiment to weaken their grip. But as I held Monique, I wondered if there was a balance I’d overlooked.
A path that allowed strength and the spark of something more.
Something human.
Monique.
As we walked on. . .the path resumed, steeper now, forcing my focus back to the terrain.
I moved forward.
There were moments, even now, when I imagined a different life—a life where I didn’t have to be the villain. But that was not my role, not the legacy I was leaving.
And it was boring.
Monique would ensure Lei’s power. She would guide him, anchor him, and if necessary, challenge him in ways I never could.
It was my final act as his father and architect of our legacy.
Yet as we continued down the mountain, I couldn’t help but question if power at any cost was truly worth it.
Could I have allowed my heart the selfish indulgence of keeping her to myself, if only for a short time, or had I already surrendered too much of myself to the monster I’d become?
The wind picked up, cold and biting, cutting through the silence.
Song adjusted the collar of his coat and glanced my way.
His expression was unreadable.
However, he knew me better than anyone, knew the struggle that simmered beneath the surface.
It would be so easy to. . .just. . .keep her. . .
I glanced down at her peaceful face, at the way her lips parted slightly as she breathed.
No. . .I must do the right thing.
I lifted my view from her.
Stay on the path because. . .to stop now, to question, to yearn—those would be luxuries I couldn’t afford.
The future I’d meticulously planned for was finally within reach.
The woman who could destroy or redeem us all lay in my arms, asleep and unaware of the war she’d waged within me.
And there is my lovely wife to think of. She waits for me. She is my destiny.
Soon, the flicker of light from my private camp came into view. It was a sprawling collection of three luxury tents set against the backdrop of darkness, illuminated by the soft, wavering glow of blue lanterns.
Up ahead, more of my men stood at attention, holding silver trays with flutes of champagne that glistened under the soft light.
This was supposed to be Monique’s victory party—the culmination of a brutal trial that would crown her as something more than just an outsider.
But there would be no celebration this evening.
I nodded. “You all may leave.”
One by one, they went away.
And instead of going left in the direction of her tent, I carried her limp body into mine.
Song’s eyes narrowed. “Leo. . .”
“I don’t want to wake her.”
“Okay, but her tent is not that far—”
“Yet, mine is right here.” I moved past my men.
Song followed. “This is not where she will be sleeping. Take Monique to her bed.”
“This cannot be helped.” I kept my expression steady as I continued past the rows of servants and guards and then carried her deep into my large tent.
The interior glowed with golden light. The thick blue carpet muffled the sound of my boots.
And in the far back, my king-sized bed loomed, draped in silk sheets and covered with embroidered cushions.
“She’s better here. Now I can look after her.” When I got to the bed, I carefully laid Monique down gently. “I can. . .protect her.”
Her face looked serene.
Had Song not come to my side. . .I might have touched her face. . .just to. . .make sure she was okay.
I’m in control. Nothing is wrong with this. It is perfectly normal.
Song stepped in front of me and blocked my view of her. “Leo.”
“Yes?”
“She’s not for you.” The words stabbed deeper than they should have.
I clenched my jaw, holding onto my composure by the thinnest thread. “I know that.”
“Do you?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t think so.”
“That is your problem, not mine.”
Song scowled. “I followed you through this madness to make sure Lei’s reign was secure. Thus making sure my sons maintain power by his side, so our family continues to rule the East for generation after generation.”
“I know.”
“Everything has been planned down to each detail, to even my sons being matched with Monique’s ladies-in-waiting. We’ve researched and watched them all. We’ve fucking matched them perfectly. All has been going to our plans. Duck is eager to pursue something with Thandi. Chen is in love with Fen whether he understands this or not. Hu is even ready to date Lan. And Lei. . .there is no doubt in my mind that he will accept Monique not only as his Mountain Mistress but his wife.”
“And it’s working. We’ve done well.” I put my gaze back on Monique.
The plans, the sacrifices, everything had been orchestrated with the precision of a war strategy.
And yet. . .as I looked at her, that nagging ache in my chest only grew.
But what if. . .
Song stepped closer.
I put my view back on him.
His jaw tightened. “Get her out of your bed. Now.”
I felt a growl rise in my throat, a dangerous sound that I swallowed down before it could ever boom out. “Do not push me, brother.”
Song narrowed his eyes and he leaned into my space, close enough that I could feel the heat radiating off him. “We didn’t do all of this for you .”
My teeth ground together.
Those damn words slammed into the hollowness in my chest.
“I understand that.”
“Do you, Leo?”
“You have forgot the last part of our plan.”
“And what is that?”
“Lei will still have to kill me tomorrow. I won’t make it easy for him.”
Song tilted his head to the side. “And if he doesn’t kill you?”
“Well. . .” I turned my gaze to Monique.
The thought of tomorrow, of Lei’s choice and what it meant, dug into me.
Could my son kill me? And even more. . .could I kill him?
“No. Do not look at her.” Song’s voice shifted to an almost pleading tone. “Whatever is going on in your mind. . .that is not part of the plan. We didn’t do all of this for you. We did it for Lei.”
“Still. . .I will not hand him this legacy.” I turned back to my brother and sneered. “He must take it, right from my bloodied hands.”
Song’s fists clenched at his sides. “Do not push me, Leo.”
“How could I push you?”
“You are to go into that battle and die.”
“No.” I shook my head. “I’m to go in that battle and fight . Lei is supposed to kill me. We all agreed. You and our sisters knew I would not make it easy on him. That is not our way.”
“Yet, nowhere in the plan was Monique sleeping in your bed—”
“I’m protecting her—”
“You or your cock?”
I deepened my sneer.
“As I said before, Leo, do not push me.”
“And if I did?” I took a step forward, daring him, testing the unspoken boundaries we both knew too well.
“You would be alone, Leo. Even our sisters are ready to kill you.”
“Good.” I formed my lips into a smile one that tasted like ashes pulling at my lips. “It would take all of you to do it.”
"You may keep that illusion of being a monster strong for everyone else but do not forget that I helped you breathe all your illusions into life.” Song glared at me. “Tomorrow, you go home to your wife. You die. That is it. Either Lei does it. Or I will do it.”
Those words struck me, unexpected and sharp.
I blinked.
My wife. . .yes. . .she is waiting. . .
I dropped my gaze to the floor.
I’m sorry, my love.
Still, I couldn’t help but whisper. “And what if Lei is right?”
“About what?”
“What if. . .when I die. . .I don’t go to heaven ? What if my future is hell ?”
Song sighed. “Leo, you are a soldier of God.”
"Can you guarantee that I go to heaven?”
“Only God can do that.”
“I don’t want to go to hell, brother.”
“You won’t.”
A bitter laugh clawed its way up my throat, but I swallowed it down. “If I am going to hell, then why would I want to leave tomorrow? Why not stay here and—”
“What?” Song’s voice went sharp. “Kill your son and take his future wife? No. We won’ t let you.”
The silence that followed was thick, stifling, and I felt the weight of every choice I’d made pressing down on me.
I looked past Song and focused on Monique. Her chest rose and fell in a peaceful rhythm that mocked the storm in my own.
“No. . .you won’t let me.” I whispered more to myself than to him. “And. . .I should stick to the plan.”
“You should.”
“She’s not for me.”
“She’s for Lei.”
“And. . .I’ll go to heaven.”
“You will.”
But the doubt was there, like a splinter festering beneath the skin. The conflict of doing what was necessary versus what was selfish burned through me, twisting everything into an unbearable knot.
Song stepped back. “We end this tomorrow, Leo.”
"Tomorrow.” I nodded.
Soon, the dawn would come, and with it, a reckoning.
“Turn around, brother.”
I raised my eyebrows. “And do what?”
“Walk to her tent and go to sleep there.”
“I could sleep in here—”
“Next to her? No.” And to my shock, Song pulled out his blade. “Turn around, Leo. The night is over.”
My heart pounded in my chest, a rhythm as relentless as the seconds dwindling towards sunrise.
I watched as Song’s blade glinted under the dim lantern light.
Sharp.
Unforgiving.
Fear gripped me, not of the blade itself, but of what it represented—an irrevocable severance.
A finality.
Song meant business, and he would kill me if necessary.
And my sisters would surely help.
“Leo. . .I stood by you. . .watched you slice my niece’s head for the purpose of a better future for our family. . .but I will not let you cross this line.” Song lifted the blade.
I remained still.
The man before me was not only my brother by blood but my brother-in-arms, and yet in that moment he felt like a stranger.
“Turn around.”
I swallowed down sadness, gazed at Monique on the bed one last time, and did as he said. “I would have behaved, brother.”
“Maybe.” Song remained by the bed as I walked away. “Maybe not.”
And I knew without him saying it that he would stand watch over Monique for the rest of the night, making sure that I did not sneak back in.