Chapter 27
Ailin
In her twenty years of life, Ailin had never been in mortal danger. She was a young lady from a scholarly house, with caring parents, loving sisters, and a stable home. Even through the upheaval of Father’s death and relocating to Suzhou, her physical safety had never come under attack.
Now, crouched on the deck of a boat after a volley of pirate arrows sailed past, she was terrified. She trembled as she peeked over the edge of the boat.
Meilin stood unharmed while holding her zither, but she stared at their uncle in shock, her face as white as mourning hemp.
Uncle Meng looked up at Ailin, grimacing in pain at the arrow lodged in his shoulder. “Come down quickly. We have to go.”
Ailin hesitated. Uncle Meng didn’t seem in any condition to help. He needed medical care immediately.
“Let me help you, Master Meng,” Tian said as he rushed toward Uncle Meng and slung his good arm over his own shoulder.
Uncle Meng gasped in pain. “Ailin—help her first.”
The whistle came again, and Ailin ducked instinctively. As she waited for the volley fire to end, she realized she was the last one on the boat. The others would be in more danger if they waited for her.
“You all go first,” she said. “I’ll catch up.”
Uncle Meng tried to protest. “No, Ailin—”
“Go, Tian!” Ailin shouted in her most imperious voice, trusting that Tian’s good sense would prevail over Uncle Meng’s avuncular chivalry. This was no time to sacrifice more lives to wait for the slowest person.
Thankfully, Tian listened to her and pulled the reluctant Uncle Meng away.
Ailin looked down the gangplank and saw Meilin still standing with her zither. She wasn’t moving.
“You go too,” Ailin ordered. “I’m coming soon.”
Meilin shook her head as if waking from a trance. “Come down right now! I’ll help you!” She tucked her zither under one arm and extended her free hand.
Ailin sighed. Arguing with Meilin would put her at greater risk, so she took her sister’s hand.
The wobbling gangplank forced Ailin to take the tiniest of steps to keep her balance. She wished she could walk faster, but it would be worse if she rushed and fell, so she proceeded with caution.
Once she stepped off the gangplank, Meilin hooked their arms together. “It’ll be easier if we go together.”
Ailin didn’t think that was true, but she followed Meilin anyway. They climbed slowly up the grassy hill of the shore, trying to surmount the ridge Tian, Uncle Meng, Grand-mother Jiang, and the other guards had crossed.
Meilin encouraged her to go faster, but Ailin couldn’t, no matter how hard she tried. The small feet she had diligently taken care of since childhood caused her pain with every step. Ailin knew she was only slowing her sister down.
Captain Bai once said that Meilin could probably run fast with her natural feet. Obviously, he was right. Meilin had a much better chance of survival if she left Ailin behind.
Ailin couldn’t bear it any longer. She pulled her arm out of Meilin’s grasp. “Go on without me. You’ll be faster on your own.”
Meilin twisted her face as if Ailin was crazy. “No way. I’m not leaving y—”
The whistle of arrows came again.
Ailin was so tired that she didn’t even react when she felt Meilin’s arms wrap around her protectively, pulling them both down. She shut her eyes as they collided with the ground. Wood crunched as the zither shattered.
Meilin screamed.
Ailin opened her eyes. She was fine despite the fall, but Meilin was clutching her left arm as red seeped through her hand. There was no arrow shaft anywhere; it had completely ripped through her upper arm.
Oh heavens.
“Why did you do that?” Ailin exclaimed in horror. “You could have let it hit me instead. You wouldn’t be hurt right now if it weren’t for me.”
Meilin gritted her teeth. “Don’t talk like a martyr, jiě. Today, I’m going to be the hero.” With that, she rose to her feet, her broken zither on the ground, more determined than Ailin had ever seen her, full of inexplicable courage. “Come on. Let’s go.”
Ailin couldn’t think. She was completely overwhelmed.
Nothing in life had prepared her for running up a grassy hill while pain shot up her legs, her heart racing, bracing for the possibility of getting hit by Wōkòu arrows.
She didn’t know how her body kept moving.
She mindlessly followed her little sister.
“We have to keep going,” Meilin said as if she could sense Ailin faltering. “We can’t afford to rest.”
Ailin cursed herself. The last time she tried to convince Meilin to go ahead without her, Meilin stayed by her and got injured in her place. She couldn’t let that happen again. They pushed forward.
Once they crested the hill, Meilin pulled them toward an abandoned building, and Ailin leaned against a wall for support. Hiding behind it, they would be shielded from arrows, at least for a moment.
“We can pause here, but we have to go soon, in case the Wōkòu cross the canal.”
Exhausted and worried, Ailin choked out a question. “Can we dress your wound? The blood—”
“We don’t have time.” Meilin extended her good arm to Ailin as if to pull her up.
When had Meilin become so tough? Ailin had long thought of Meilin as the small girl so sensitive to pain that she couldn’t even bind her feet.
Now she was bearing an arrow wound without complaint while her nimble, natural feet saved them both.
It was as if she was built for this moment.
Ailin accepted her sister’s help, but she took a handkerchief out from her shoulder pack. “At least take this to stem the bleeding.”
Meilin grabbed the handkerchief and pressed it to her wound.
They walked until they reached a road. There, they joined the ranks of stragglers evacuating the local village.
All the able-bodied seemed to have already fled or gone to assist in defense.
Only those without family and unable to move quickly were left.
Ailin found herself hobbling too, but she pressed on.
If Meilin wasn’t going to complain or slow down, then she couldn’t either.
They walked for what felt like hours. The vicious summer sun burned overhead. Ailin’s throat was parched, but her sweat-soaked clothes clung to her body, making each step sticky and heavy. Though her feet ached, she pushed herself to keep up with Meilin.
At some point, Ailin realized that her sister was slowing down.
“Do you want to take a break?” she asked. Maybe they could rest a little since there was now more distance between them and the Wōkòu.
Meilin mumbled an answer before she crumpled to the ground.
Ailin rushed to catch her. Meilin was taller and heavier than Ailin so keeping them both upright was impossible. The best Ailin could do was lower her half-conscious sister as gently as she could on the side of the road. Ailin knelt next to Meilin and felt her forehead.
Meilin’s skin was hot and dry, and her eyes were closed.
For the second time that day, Ailin felt like crying.
When she packed, she had brought the things she thought were most valuable at the time, objects like jade, jewels, silver.
Now, she wished she had medicine and water.
She had always prided herself on her good sense, but what did “sense” even mean when the world was in chaos?
All her life, she followed the rules and behaved properly.
She had taken the world for granted. When violence erupted and social rules were upended, she was helpless.
Without Meilin, she would have died back on the hill.
Meilin had even abandoned her precious zither to save her.
Tears fell from Ailin’s eyes, and she didn’t bother to hide them. “You said you were going to be the hero. You said we have to keep going.”
Meilin opened her mouth, but her voice was raspy and barely coherent. “Trying . . .”
Ailin didn’t know if Meilin was suffering from the heat, lack of water, her injury, or a combination of everything. They needed help, but the people on the road looked even weaker than they were. They certainly didn’t seem to have water or medicine to spare.
“Keep . . . moving. I’ll . . . catch up.” Meilin’s voice grew even fainter.
Hearing Meilin echo her own words from earlier made Ailin feel ridiculous. How could she have expected brave, stubborn Meilin to leave her? It was against Meilin’s nature, and Ailin’s too. There was no way Ailin would abandon Meilin when Meilin hadn’t abandoned her.
“I can’t go without you.”
Meilin’s face contorted as if she wanted to cry, but she had no tears. “Sorry . . .”
A rumble echoed in the distance. Ailin stood up instinctively. Was it the Wōkòu? If so, they had to hide. They were in no condition to run anymore, but they might be able to drag themselves to a hiding place. Maybe they would have to use Captain Bai’s dagger to defend themselves. Ailin shuddered.
Shielding her eyes against the sun, she strained to see into the distance. Dust rose from the direction of Suzhou. Her heart leaped in her chest. Not pirates.
She took a few steps farther up the road, not daring to believe her eyes.
A row of imperial soldiers marched toward them, and riding at their head was a commander who looked familiar.
Armor covered his body and a helmet obscured his head, but months of practice sketching figures had taught Ailin to recognize people’s distinctive traits.
From the commander’s perfect proportions and the way he sat on his horse, he was none other than Captain Bai. More than that, he was hope.
Ailin began waving her arms, not caring if she looked like a crazy person.
Captain Bai cared about Meilin’s safety.
Even when Meilin argued with him, he had always been helpful.
Regardless of whether the army had intentions to stop, Ailin would get Captain Bai’s attention. She had to make him save her sister.