Chapter 56 Rui
Rui
It was past midnight, but Rui was tossing and turning in bed. She’d returned to campus to meet Ada, who had filled her in
on what had happened at The Green Needle earlier. It was top secret; only the Council and a few others knew about Master Song’s
death. Ash had told Ada, trusting she would be discreet and disseminate the information only to the rest of the A-Team. But
what Ash didn’t say was that Song Yiran was the prime suspect. It was Mai who’d sent out feelers and gotten that information.
Rui refused to believe it. Song Yiran was many things, but no matter how much he might have hated his grandfather, she knew
in her bones he would never carry out such an atrocious act.
The media was reporting that the teahouse explosion was due to a gas leak. It was such an unimaginative explanation, yet it
always seemed to work on normies. Teshin’s uncle had been called in to inspect the place, and Teshin heard it might have had
something to do with an unexplained surge in spiritual energy during the assault on Song Wei. But a magic wielder’s death
couldn’t cause something like that. Or at least, Rui had never heard of that happening.
There was a light drumming of fingers against her door.
“It’s me.”
Zizi? What was he doing here? They’d left the shophouse in different directions earlier, with him mumbling something about needing an axe.
Rui jumped out of bed, neatening her hair and checking herself quickly in the mirror. She was about to change into something
nicer when she caught herself. It was perfectly fine to look disheveled in her crummy old sleeping shirt at this time of night. Why should she care about
impressing a stranger? But is he really a stranger? She couldn’t remember every detail about Madam Meng’s tea ritual, but Ada swore that what Rui had told her before her journey into the underworld was that her most treasured memories would be taken when she crossed
Naihe Bridge.
If her lost memories were all of Zizi—and Four—did it mean that he was once precious to her?
“Rui? You in there?”
“Yeah!” She scrambled to open the door.
Zizi was walking in a semicircle, thumbs hooked in pockets, his long black coat twirling behind him in a decidedly wizardy
way. The troubled look on his face vanished when he saw her, and his gaze softened.
“Did I wake you—oh, sorry, feel free to put on pants. I’ll wait.” He turned away from her bare legs.
For a full second, Rui gaped at the back of his head. Then she grabbed him by his sleeve and dragged him into her room, whisper-hissing
as she shut the door. “We have so many problems, and you’re worried about whether I’m wearing pants?”
“I was protecting your modesty.”
She scowled. “You’re a very strange person.”
He smiled. “I believe the word you intended to say was unique or special.”
Her scowl deepened. He was infuriating. But fortunately—or unfortunately—very pleasant to look at. Slightly damp from melting snow, his dark hair fell over his eyes, the silver streaks
glinting softly in the light of her desk lamp. She felt herself staring at his lips as they parted, and—she gave herself a
mental kick.
“What are you doing here? Did anyone see you?”
Zizi’s expression turned serious, and he sat down. “I was curious, so I ventured to the teahouse. Couldn’t get close because
the cops—or rather, the Guild—cordoned off the area. But I’m quite certain Mochi was at the scene of the crime.”
“He didn’t kill his grandfather,” Rui said fiercely.
“How can you be sure?”
It didn’t surprise her that Zizi would be skeptical.
He’d seemed troubled at the shophouse whenever she mentioned Yiran.
Was it because of what transpired between Burning Flame and Lei Ying?
Surely Zizi understood things were different now.
Her journey in the underworld had taught her to live fully in the present.
The past was the past, and she’d let it go.
Moreover, like her, Yiran was a different person in this lifetime.
She wasn’t going to hold old grudges over his head.
She jutted out her chin. “I just know.”
Zizi gave her a look. “Good thing I was talking about the blast of spiritual energy and not the murder, then.”
She had misunderstood him. “Wait, are you saying Yiran caused the explosion? That’s impossible.”
“Is it?” Zizi picked up one of her pens, twirling it between his fingers as he said thoughtfully, “I keep going back to the
first separation spell, when your spiritual energy was transferred to him. It’s always been a mystery to me how his supposedly
ordinary spirit core could absorb and hold so much excess energy. All signs keep pointing to the possibility that it’s not ordinary.”
“But he said he’s been a normie all his life. Wouldn’t he know if he wasn’t?”
“I’m not so sure about that.” Zizi put the pen down with a sigh. “Anyway, I came to tell you that I’ve found a tool to destroy
the spell the Hybrids have. All I need now is to get the talisman itself. But don’t worry, I’ll get it done.”
“What kind of tool? How does it work?”
Zizi waved away her questions. “It’s too complicated to explain. You’ll know when the spell is destroyed.” He stood up. “Well,
I’m off.”
“You came all the way here just to tell me this?”
“Seemed appropriate that you’re the one I speak to.” His tone was too light, and his nonchalant attitude felt like a show.
The black mark in his left eye had spread like ink across water. For some reason, it worried her.
Rui was confused by her own feelings. Why had she wanted him to say more?
Why had her heart pounded when she opened the door earlier, knowing whose face she would see?
She remembered nothing about the mysterious boy-god lounging in her chair.
Yet she could read him like her favorite book, and she knew he was hiding something.
The tool he spoke about had to come from the underworld.
Did it require some kind of sacrifice? Her dealings with the realm of the dead proved that everything from it came with strings attached.
“I should go,” Zizi said in a conclusive manner, as if they’d had a discussion and agreed on something she didn’t know about.
“Okay,” Rui said, halting.
He glanced around her dorm room with a peculiar expression. “There was a time when you would have stopped me from leaving.”
“I don’t remem—”
“Don’t worry about it,” he said hastily. “I shouldn’t have said that.”
Zizi stepped backward, then hesitated, staring at her as though memorizing her face, observing every detail, taking in her
whole being. He was strange. But this was a different kind of strange. It felt like he knew he wouldn’t have the chance to look at her this way
again.
He came to say goodbye. Rui tried to speak, but he was already by the door. Her heart cried out, Stay.
But the word never left her lips.
As the door was closing behind him, Zizi turned back. He looked like he was about to say something momentous.
Beep.
A text message from an unknown number flashed on Rui’s phone.
Mint chocolate tastes like toothpaste.