Chapter 57 Yiran
Yiran
Night had fallen. Despite being in a daze, Yiran made it to Xingshan Academy without incident. He didn’t know why the campus
was his first thought after he’d run from the teahouse. Maybe he’d come here because it was one of the few places he had ever
felt safe. Where he’d felt like himself.
One thing was certain: he couldn’t go back to Song Mansion. He’d seen the look on Ash’s face in the teahouse. His brother
thought him a murderer. But he couldn’t return to his father and the Hybrids either.
For the umpteenth time, he cursed his own naivete. He’d allowed his own pain to be exploited by his father. It didn’t matter
that his father had shown a semblance of humanity toward Yiran, that he’d given Yiran some attention. That warm and golden
morning in the coastal inn had been a peek through the looking glass into a different timeline of what could’ve been possible
between father and son.
In this reality, Song Liming was the leader of the Hybrid Revenants.
No altruistic platitudes or chest-beating speeches could cover up the fact that, from the very beginning, Song Liming’s plan
was one of annihilation. He wanted to install himself as the head of the Song family and form a new order with Hybrids and
magic practitioners who abided by his rule. How was it different from what the Guild was doing?
No. His father’s vision was different. It was far worse. The Guild wasn’t infallible, and it did dubious things for survival. But at its core, Exorcists
wanted to protect life, and they risked their lives to keep ordinary people safe. His father wanted to tear all that down,
and he’d started his culling from the top. Was this his way of giving Yiran back his so-called birthright?
Yiran didn’t want it.
Magic pulsed through his body in waves as he hid in the shadows of one of the campus buildings.
For the first time in years, it felt like he could breathe normally.
Like he was whole and free. Knowing the cost of this freedom, he wasn’t sure if he should laugh or cry.
He could pinpoint the moment in time when he felt his spirit core unlocking completely: the second after his grandfather drew his last breath.
Song Wei must have used the other variation of the forbidden technique, tying the block to his own spirit core to suppress
Yiran’s. L had said that method would drain the suppressor’s life force. Why would his grandfather risk his own life to do
this instead of severing Yiran’s magic from him permanently? It was awful to know he would never get a chance to ask his grandfather
about it.
Yiran imagined the old man and his gruff expression, telling the younger Song to get his shit together. It was time to stop
being a coward, to face himself and accept the ugliness that came with it. Too many people had been harmed. It was time to
decide what he truly stood for. He only hoped it wasn’t too late.
He stared at his burner phone, praying he’d memorized her number correctly.
Seconds later, a text notification bar appeared on the screen.
A flavor of ice cream shouldn’t be a friendship breaker.
Yiran punched the air.
Rui had replied. It could be a trap to lure him in for the Guild’s arrest, but his gut said otherwise. She was still a friend, not a foe.
There was no second-guessing where they would meet. Stealthily, Yiran made his way to Rui’s favorite spot on campus—the bench
by the sea where they’d had their tiff over ice cream. The park was dark, the Academy buildings empty and silent. Facing away
from the water, he leaned against the railing, waiting anxiously.
It didn’t take long for two figures to appear in the distance. From their heights and gaits, Yiran knew exactly who they were.
He waved, unable to stop himself from smiling. It was good to see her again. He’d been such a fool to push her away; his own problems had never been her fault. Whatever he was going to say next was cut off by the force of Rui flinging herself onto him and wrapping her arms around him.
“Too . . . tight, Darcy.”
“Yeah, she does that,” Zizi said, almost sympathetically.
“Hey . . . wizard,” Yiran wheezed. “Thought you were . . . missing.”
“I took a little side trip.”
Zizi seemed wary, as if he was expecting Yiran to do something untoward to Rui. Yiran didn’t know why he would think that
when Rui was the one squeezing the life out of him.
“See, I told you he’d be here,” she said triumphantly, finally letting go. Zizi rolled his eyes, and she whipped back to Yiran.
“I know you didn’t do it. I don’t think Ada or Teshin or Mai believe it either.”
He was grateful for his friends’ faith in him, but he also noticed that Ash wasn’t on the list of names Rui had mentioned.
“The Guild is looking for you,” she told him.
She didn’t have to say why. He knew. “They think I killed my grandfather, don’t they?” he said, resigned. He didn’t know how
to prove his innocence.
Zizi was eyeing him with suspicion. “There’s something different about you, Mochi.”
Yiran’s sarcastic retort fizzled out, and he conceded with a nod instead. He pulled on his glove and channeled his magic slowly,
letting it trickle out as he tried his best to retain all the control he could.
A small defensive shield appeared briefly, glowing crimson in the dark.
“My spirit core was never ordinary,” he said after he’d stopped channeling.
“Excess energy,” Rui said with a look of awe and understanding. “You absorbed it—you absorbed my spiritual energy during the first separation spell. That’s why so much of it transferred to you and you could use it to
cast magic. My sword that night—it was huge.” She clutched her face. “You made it bigger. All this time, we thought it was a fluke. We thought it was something else because we all assumed you were born a normie. But it was you all along.”
“What are you talking about?” Yiran asked, exasperated.
But Rui was staring at Zizi. “He’s an Amplifier.”
“Like Lei Ying,” Zizi said, his face pale. “It’s all connected again.”
“That might be the real reason why the Guild is after him.”
Yiran glanced from Rui to Zizi and back to Rui. He was obviously missing vital information. “What’s an Amplifier? Who’s Lei
Ying? What’s going on?”
“It’s as the name suggests,” Rui said. “An Amplifier is someone born with a spirit core that allows them to augment the smallest
amounts of spiritual energy. In certain circumstances, they can also absorb spiritual energy from their surroundings. A spirit
core like that is both powerful and dangerous because it’s highly unstable, and it risks uncontrolled surges of energy. It’s
extremely rare for a person to be born an Amplifier, so there’s little recorded history about them.” She paused and exchanged
yet another veiled look with Zizi.
“Go on,” Yiran urged.
“Most don’t survive for long because the Guild culls them out.”
“The Guild culls them? How do you even know what an Amplifier is?” This was all happening too fast, and it was too intense for Yiran to grapple
with, and he had a feeling that things would only get wilder.
“It’s a long story,” Rui said, averting her gaze. “I gained some memories, and I also lost some.”
“She doesn’t remember me, specifically,” Zizi said. He’d tried to sound matter-of-fact, like he didn’t care, but it was obvious
it bothered him greatly.
Yiran frowned. “I don’t understand how your situationship relates to me being an Amplifier.”
“Like she said, it’s a long story. Centuries old, in fact. And it somehow involves the three of us in the past.”
“I’m not in the mood for jokes, wizard.”
Zizi raised an eyebrow at Rui. “Do you want to tell him or shall I?”
In the end, they both told him.
Rui explained the tragic friendship between their past selves and her recent foray into the underworld, while Zizi shared
the intertwining fates of Lei Ying and the Fourth King of Hell, along with a smattering of snide commentary whenever Emperor
Burning Flame was mentioned.
Yiran’s brain was imploding. He stayed silent for some time, staring at the dark horizon, trying to process everything he’d
just heard. Rui sat next to him, nibbling anxiously on her nails and sneaking glances at Zizi, who had sauntered to the water’s
edge. He was staring at the stars in the night sky. It felt as if the boy—no, the immortal—was carrying a silent burden on his shoulders.
Rui linked her arm around Yiran’s, surprising him. It was a softer side of her he hadn’t experienced before, and he wondered
if her journey through the underworld had something to do with it.
She sighed and rested her head on his shoulder. “I know it’s a lot to handle.”
“If we’re talking about revelations,” he said, “I’m about to one-up you and Lord Death over there.”
“It’s Your Majesty, if you want to address me properly,” Zizi said, walking over, eyes narrowed at how physically close the other two were.
“I’m still alive and in this realm,” Yiran sniped.
“Maybe not for long.”
“In that case, I’ll pray not to be sorted into your stupid Court.”
Rui groaned as they started to bicker. “Focus, you clowns.”
Both boys shut their mouths obediently.
“Go on,” she said to Yiran. “What did you want to tell us?”
He let out a long exhale. “My father’s alive.”
There was a moment of stunned silence.
Eyes round like marbles, Rui said, “It’s good that he’s alive . . . yes?”
“Not when he’s leading the Hybrids. The kidnapping of the Exorcists? His decision. The one who killed my grandfather? Also him. He’s the brains behind all the ambushes on Exorcists over the last year too.”
“But he’s Song Liming!” Rui said, her hands clenching into tight fists. “He was a Captain, he was going to be Head of the Guild, he’s a—he’s . . .”
She stopped talking, staring bitterly at the dark sea.
Yiran knew she was feeling betrayed. And he knew what she was going to say. Song Liming was a hero; he wasn’t supposed to
be the villain in this story.
Only from your perspective, his father’s voice whispered in his head. Yiran shook it off.
“My father thinks he’s found a way to change the world order,” Yiran said. “He wants to use the rogue talisman to imbue yinqi
into normies and transform them into Hybrids who can protect themselves against the original Revenants and the Blight, so
neither will pose a threat. In some twisted way, he thinks this is the solution for a safer world.”
“But not every normie will survive the transformation, and Hybrids still have to feed,” Rui said.
“I know that. But my father believes in what he calls the natural law—survival of the fittest. The weak don’t matter. Root
them out, have them serve the most basic purpose to sustain the strong. It’s a warped way to think.”
“Hold up—how do you know all this?” Zizi asked sharply.
Now comes the hard part. Yiran hoped that neither of them would judge him too harshly. Detail by excruciating detail, he told them about how he’d
started seeing Yuki, his kidnapping, and the fight with Noah. He told them everything he knew about his father’s plans and
the strange devices in the cellar of the bar. As painful as it was, he decided to tell them about his mother and what his
grandfather had done to him too.
As Yiran spoke, he felt the tension go out of his body. It was a relief to talk about it outside his own head.
He gave his friends a weak smile when he was done. “This is the part where you start yelling at me for being stupid and a terrible person for not informing anyone earlier.”
“After what happened to you—what was done to you—I can see why you’d spurn the Guild and your grandfather, and even Ash,” Rui said. “Your father took advantage of
you. His offer must’ve felt like the only way.”
“But Mochi did have a choice,” Zizi said, though there was no heat in his tone. “Everyone does. That’s the thing about mortals, they have
all this free will and yet they choose to believe they’re helpless. But every step they take, every step we take, every decision we make—there are choices, even if they are hard ones, even if they feel like ones we’ve been forced
to make.”
Rui was staring at Zizi, but he was refusing to look at her. Yiran sensed that something deeper was going on.
“As much as I hate to say this, Lord Death is right,” Yiran said. “I’m making a choice now. I’ll turn myself in to the Guild.
I’ll tell them everything I know. They might punish me for consorting with the Hybrids, but maybe I can clear my name regarding
my grandfather’s murder.”
“No,” Rui said at once. “It’s too dangerous to approach the Guild when they know you’re an Amplifier.”
“You shouldn’t. I don’t trust the Guild,” Zizi said at the same time.
“This is about me making the right choices for once. About redeeming myself for my idiocy,” Yiran argued. “They can’t do anything
to me if I tell the truth, even if my spirit core is different.”
“Amplifiers have been erased from Exorcist history for a reason. Humans fear what they do not understand,” Zizi said. The
pain on his face came from experience.
I had friends I cared about who suffered greatly because of the Guild, people the Guild wanted to control because they feared
them for what they were capable of. . . .
Song Liming was wrong about many things, but maybe he was right about this one thing.
And even though Yiran couldn’t reconcile everything Rui had told him about their past selves, he did feel guilty about what Burning Flame had done. He wanted to act. To do something. “What, then?” he said. He hated feeling this helpless. “We have to stop my father and the Hybrids.”
“Tell me what you know about their hideouts,” Zizi said. “It’ll give me a starting point to track the rogue talisman.”
“They move and clear out all the time. That’s why the Exorcists have so much trouble finding them.”
“Basic information will suffice. I am Lord Death, after all.”
“Then why don’t you Lord-Death-magic everything so our realm will be okay again?”
Something flickered in Zizi’s eyes. “It doesn’t work that way. There’s always a cost when you’re dealing with the underworld.
I can’t get rid of the Blight, if that’s what you mean. It exists because humans do. But I’ll handle the spell.” He clasped
his hands together conclusively, looking eager to move on from the conversation. “Seeing that Mochi’s a wanted man now, we
shouldn’t stay here or go wandering around the city.”
“Don’t worry,” Rui said, “I know someone who can shelter us for the night.”