Chapter 48 Rui
Rui
She is a child of seven, huddling in the rubble of her village. A horde of Revenants descended the night before, catching
the villagers unawares. She is the only survivor.
“I know what happened,” says the old gentleman in emerald robes. His sword is sheathed, and he has a kindly face, but still
she hesitates. “It isn’t your fault, child. The Revenants were drawn to your village because you are special. There is nothing
wrong or shameful about being different. There are others like you and me.” When she stays silent, he says, “I can train you
to control your gift, and you can use it to help people in the future. Would you like that?”
It is the first time someone has called her anomaly a gift. She nods and reaches out a small, trembling hand.
The Summer Palace is full of secrets.
One of them is a boy.
She senses him watching her again as she practices her swordplay in the grassy clearing by the lake. He has been spying on
her for a week.
“I know you’re up there,” she calls out.
The boy straightens, standing tall on the roof of the pavilion where he was hiding. He looks to be about eleven—her age—but
he carries his years differently. His robes are resplendent, embroidered with gold dragons, and in the halo of the sun’s rays,
he seems majestic and untouchable.
But the boy isn’t Emperor yet, so she sees no need to bow. Instead, she stares boldly back at him. “What are you waiting for?
Come on down.”
Surprise, then curiosity, flits across the boy’s face. He leaps, landing smoothly on the ground in front of her. She can tell
he’s versed in martial arts.
“They call me Burning Flame, the beating heart of the Empire, heir to the Radiant Throne,” he proclaims. “I have seen you and the old grand master around. He’s my father’s friend, but who are you?”
She knows he’s trying to impress, but she also senses that underneath all that pomp is a boy longing for a friend. Grinning,
she raises her twin swords. “My name’s Lei Ying. Want to fight me?”
She returns each summer for the next few years with Shifu.
“This is pointless,” Burning Flame groans. He tosses his sword away. “We have been sparring for years, and yet you always
win. I have never once beaten you.” She tuts at him, but before she can speak, he goes on. “Things would be different if I
had a stronger spirit core, and if I had magic.” He throws her a veiled look. “Or if I was born an Amplifier.”
“Stop,” she says, shaking her head. She had finally told him her secret the previous summer, but now she wonders if she should
have. “You don’t want that. It’s not a gift.” This is a hard lesson she has learned. Even among the other cultivators, there
is talk about the danger she poses. She has never lost control since that first time, when she was a young child, but sometimes,
one mistake is enough.
“No, it’s you who does not understand,” he says with a sour smile. “I have survived numerous attempts on my life since I was
barely able to crawl. I am surrounded by enemies, even in my own palace. I am tired of living in fear.” His smile drops, and
his head hangs. “I am tired of being alone.”
She squeezes his arm. The assassination attempts have taken a toll on him through the years, and with the coronation coming
up, it will only get worse.
“All I want to be is a good Emperor like Father was.”
“And you shall,” she tells him, believing every word.
“Then I need to stay alive. I need power.” He takes her hand. Squeezes it. “We aren’t children anymore, Ying-er. An alliance
can be made so that you will always be close to me.” She tenses, and he says quickly, “We do not need to share a bed—it is
your blade that I need. You are the only one I trust.”
For a moment, she is tempted. This isn’t the first time he has tried to broach the subject. But she knows his ambition. Blood will be shed, and her hand will be the culprit. She looks at him sadly. “I will not be your weapon. But I can be your friend.”
“Is that your final word?”
“Yes.”
His expression hardens, and he turns away. “Then I no longer have a friend.”
Snow blankets the ground with icy crystals. Her footsteps leave tracks as she paces, twirling her twin swords out of habit.
She doesn’t know if the mysterious fox-faced young man will return to the forest today. But she waits anyway. They didn’t
get to speak much after she killed the Revenant. Four left suddenly, his features scrunched in pain as he clutched the black
silk around his neck. She was worried, but she let him go. And now she wishes she hadn’t.
She feels a presence behind her.
“There you are,” she says playfully.
Four’s long silvery-white hair is tied in a low ponytail, a stark contrast to his black and pewter robes. “How did you know
I would return?” he asks. He appears shy, but there’s a mischievous air about him.
“I didn’t, but I decided to wait anyway. I’m glad you have proven I am not a fool,” she teases.
His eyes light up with delight as he smiles. And she thinks she might drown in this new emotion swirling inside her.
Four has been silent since she started rambling about cultivation and spirit cores and the exorcism of Revenants. “You must
be bored,” she says, embarrassed, wondering if she should’ve brought him to a better establishment. His regal manner seems
so out of place in this ramshackle teahouse. Yet she senses he isn’t a nobleman, but something else altogether.
“I am hardly bored at all. The tea is fragrant, and the company is splendid. And I would gladly listen to anything you choose to speak of. In fact, I would listen to you speak every day, from moonrise to sunset to moonrise again if that is what you wish,” Four gushes, flinging his arms out and startling a waiter nearby.
She can’t help but laugh.
Color spreads across his face as he tries to compose himself. “Please believe that my words are sincere.”
His dark eyes are piercing as he gazes at her, and it feels like they are the only ones in the busy teahouse. Like they are
the only two people to exist in the world. Cheeks warming, she looks away, tucking her hair behind her ear. She has met him
twice, but he already has her heart.
“Humans fear what they do not understand, and magic is unknown to most. When people feel helpless, they need someone to blame.”
“Then why do you still risk your life to protect them?” Four asks her.
Because I shouldn’t be alive, she thinks. Because people have died because of me. Because my power is not a gift but a terror upon humanity, and this is the only way
I can redeem myself.
Smiling gently at her lover, she says out loud, “Because it is the right thing to do.”
She knows Four is worried about the summons from Burning Flame, that even though Four is a god, he has learned to be afraid
of men.
“His general will escort me. I must go to the gates. If I do not, it will make things difficult for Shifu and the cultivators.”
“My love—” Four chokes out. It is causing him pain to linger.
She rests her hand gently on his cheek. “We will meet again.”
She is on her knees. Her hands and feet are bound. She isn’t frightened, though she knows she should be.
The boy from the Summer Palace has become a man. Dressed in robes of gold, he approaches, the veil of glittering beads that hang from his crown obscuring his face.
“The people have spoken,” he says without emotion. “We both know what you are. You are chaos. You are danger. You have brought
the Revenants to us.”
He hands her a sword. The implication is clear.
She spits at him. “Do it yourself, coward.”
Her words strike him like a slap. He flinches, raising his sword high. The veil of glittering beads sways, and she sees his
face. A face so familiar it feels like she’s known him through lifetimes.
She sees his anger, his pain. His regret.
She sees the tears in his eyes and thinks, I did not mean to abandon you, Xiao Ran.
There is a whistling sound, and the blade comes down.
Rui collapsed onto the ground. She had seen her past life, reclaimed the memories she was never meant to have. Recognized
the face of her killer: a friend turned executioner in her past life, Burning Flame.
A friend turned stranger in this life, Song Yiran.