chapter two: of sect cultivators and reopened wounds
*Refer to the footnotes for definitions and origins.*
There is a memory that Ren Liufang returns to often, almost masochistically.
She is sixteen years old, and her eyes are red but her robes are white. Her chest burns like hellfire. Her body is weak. She is woken up by a banging on her sliding door, the wooden hinges creaking with every rough slap to the paper screen. She stumbles to the entrance and the messenger tells her to report to the stream, the one looping around the practice grounds.
When Ren Liufang arrives, there is someone waiting for her. The elder beckons her near, and she follows obediently. He is holding a bamboo stick, and he tells her to sit on the riverbed, as close to the water as possible. She follows. He corrects her sitting position with a flick to the thigh. The bamboo stick snaps against her skin, loud and piercing. Ren Liufang corrects her posture with a wince, and the elder tells her to meditate.
The stones are sharp. She can feel them digging through the thin cloth on her legs and into her flesh. Red beads at the edges of her robes, and Ren Liufang feels herself slightly curling in pain. The elder slaps the bamboo stick again, this time against her back, and he tells her to keep her posture straight. The strike sends her further into the stones, and she bites her lip dry. She can hear the disciples gathering at the practice grounds, their whispers plugging her ears. She finds it hard to block out the noise. The water strokes her shins with freezing cold. Ren Liufang shivers.
The elder strikes her back again.
Now, Ren Liufang is twenty-three years old. She still wears white, even after all these years, but her body is stronger. She can sit for hours on that riverbed, the water chilling her to the bone, the redness slowly fading, but she can still stand up afterwards and brush it off. She has long since lost the need for an elder to stand by, always correcting her form and shouting corrections loud enough for the disciples on the practice grounds to hear. She can endure the aching.
Ren Liufang sits cross-legged on the edge of the inn room, the sunlight hitting her full force in the face. She breathes in, out, again and again, but the ground is too smooth; there is nothing anchoring her to reality. It is too warm, and it is too peaceful. She already knows, she already knows that she cannot possibly calm herself without the stones jabbing at her bottom thighs or the water feeding her callouses.
Ren Liefang wonders if she really got stronger at all.
She gives up on meditating, closing the blinds so that darkness falls back onto the room. In the room, there is a bed, a chair adjacent to it, and a low table. Ren Liufang manuvers around the furniture smoothly, sitting on her knees, backside to the bed.
She can hear breathing. Shallow, a body still and unmoving, draped onto the bed and laying in repose, the sword laying slanted against the wall.
Ren Liufang curls her fingers on her lap, paper pale knuckles turning an even more deathly shade of white. Her chest throbs, and she can hear herself breathing too, loudly. It’s a too loud. Her heart is beating too loudly.
The body shifts a little. Ren Liufang can hear the rustle in the bedcovers.
“It hurts, Ren Ju.”
Ren Liufang grits her teeth. She digs her nails into her thighs and closes her eyes. She can see it clearly, the screaming face of a girl, the shocked face of a woman, bleeding away. She should not be here. She should not be here.
“It hurts, Ren Ju.”
Ren Liufang tries to meditate again; she tries to breathe in slower bursts. The tides of an unconquerable ocean buries her limbs into darkness. She can only reach that darkness in meditation; she has never seen the light in such a place. Like she was in that stream again, young and weak, the elder standing at her back with the bamboo stick. Like the rocks still hurt as much as they did that first day, the water as cold.
“It hurts, Ren Ju.”
“No,” Ren Liufang murmurs. Her lips are dry, indented from unconscious biting. She remembers that day clearly, chest constricted by layers of bandages and eyes swollen from the tears she had shed. She can still hear it, those screams across the courtyard.
Ren Liufang is twenty-three years old. She is not sixteen years old anymore.
Ren Liufang is not sixteen years old anymore.
“It hurts, Ren Ju.”
But she can still remember it so clearly. She whispers it like a curse. Slowly, she presses her palms into her ears and begs it to stop.
❀ ❀ ❀
Ren Liufang cradles Xiu Lihua’s body to her chest, temporarily in shock. Her arms tighten around the body, all while her eyes stare aimlessly into the space ahead. Curling her hands into the other woman’s robes, Ren Liufang stands up shakily, eyes almost blank as she supports Xiu Lihua’s limp frame in her arms. Her sword lays at her side, faintly glowing and vibrating weakly on the ground. Swallowing tightly, she picks up Mengdie and presses it into Xiu Lihua’s cold hands.
She casts a look at the unmoving archer corpse, scanning the surroundings of resentful spirits. Looking briefly between the corpses and the barely breathing Xiu Lihua in her arms, Ren Liufang turns her back on the hard won evidence and jumps onto her sword towards the city again.
❀ ❀ ❀
If Ren Liufang is correct, then the corpses are all gone by now, disposed of and evidence lost.
She had never intended to stay long at this place anyways. If not for the sudden injury, she would’ve been long gone to her next destination in the time she had.
The doctor leans over Xiu Lihua’s body, checking the bandages and patting sweat off her brow. Ren Liufang looks away while she does it, pressing crescents into her palms. The doctor sighs, in relief? In resignation? She crosses into Ren Liufang’s line of vision, eyebrows knit softly on her forehead.
“She’ll be alright after a few days,” the doctor says, tone almost soothing. Ren Liufang shoves it away.
“I see,” she says tersely. “I trust you can take care of her until then?”
The doctor looks confused. Her eyebrows pinch further, but it’s in a different emotion than before. “You aren’t going to stay?”
Ren Liufang blinks a few times. “I wasn’t intending to,” she says as coolly as she can without being too nonchalant about the injured person laying behind her. Her hands feel sweaty; she wipes them discreetly on her robes.
The doctor glances behind her, uncertain. “I thought you knew each other?”
“No, she’s just someone I was forced to work with for awhile. Can we arrange your due payment?” Ren Liufang says smoothly, hands already reaching for a parcel of coins in her robes. It’s heavy, but heaven knows that she’s had to pay off a lot of people to stay silent.
“Ren-daren, I am not a hired doctor,” the girl explains hesitantly. “I cannot afford to tend to one person for such a long period of time. I have... other clients that need to be visited.”
“Are there no other doctors in this area?” Ren Liufang asks, voice dulled. The doctor shakes her head.
“There’s another apprentice, but he’s out of town currently. Do you want me to call him here when he gets back?”
“There will be no need,” Ren Liufang says without inflection, though she grits her teeth, “—Is there anything I must do?”
The doctor looks relieved now. “Yes! Just change her bandages once every two shichen. If she wakes up, bring her some water and tell her to not strain herself.”
Ren Liufang tightens her jaw and nods, pouring a small pile of coins from her pouch and pressing it into the doctor’s palm. The doctor’s eyes widen, and she looks at Ren Liufang incredulously.
“I can’t take this much—”
“I can give this much. Thank you for your service. Please tell the innkeeper to bring me a pot of tea and hot water, and instruct them to keep any visitors away until I am ready to accept them,” Ren Liufang says carefully, pausing so that the doctor can understand her past her dialect.
The doctor leaves. Ren Liufang is left alone again. She stands above the still body, and she longs to reach her hand out.
Xiu Lihua does not stir. Ren Liufang sits down and waits for the innkeeper.
❀ ❀ ❀
Ren Liufang is running late. She does not run or hurry, but she walks a little faster than normal. The town was unorganized and thick with the scent of dirty smoke, probably accumulated from a late night celebration. She thinks that she should tell them to stop burning corpses, it’s bad for the air.
The villagers look at her when she passes. Ren Liufang ignores them. She knows that people like her don’t usually frequent these types of places.
“Xiong-Jinli,” one of them whisper. “It’s her.”
Ren Liufang tightens her grip on her sword, Hong-lei. She turns around the corner and leaves a little more dust in her footsteps. The woman is just up ahead, with a woman in a weimao standing in front of her, a child clinging to her leg.
”—Is enough to get any job done, but if this many cultivators are interested, I am quite curious of the—”
Ren Liufang stops. The old woman points at her from the stop, and the woman in the weimao keeps talking, slowly turning her head towards her in acknowledgement.
“Well, a function attended late is much better than—”
She stops.
Ren Liufang freezes in her tracks. The aching in her chest returns with a fury, and she doesn’t even have to think to remember that name, that voice, that face.
Xiu Lihua looks the same, yet so different.
Ren Liufang forces her hand off her sword; she forces herself to not open her mouth. Contrary to that, Xiu Lihua’s mouth hangs open, eyes widened. Then, the other woman’s expression morphs into a scornful look, and she jerks her head away from her. Ren Liufang ignores the pit in her throat, and she uses this time to formally settle herself within range of the old woman, standing as far away from Xiu Lihua as possible.
Ren Liufang knows much about Xiu Lihua. Her prevailing reputation in the cultivation world, the jobs she usually takes, and the sword hanging from her belt. She knows that she travels randomly from province to province, from city to city. She knows that Xiu Lihua is strong.
Ren Liufang never wants to meet Xiu Lihua, but that was apparently not a decision she could make.
The woman talks, about routes and mysterious mass deaths, information that Ren Liufang already knows inside and out. She resists the urge to stare at the woman next to her, but it persists at the back of her mind. Xiu Lihua asks a question, and Ren Liufang is jolted back to reality with the sound of her voice.
It’s lower. It’s brighter and clearer. It’s different.
Xiu Lihua asks a few questions, and Ren Liufang drags herself back into reality. She clutches Honglei like a vice, until the grip leaves red indentations on her palm. She ends up speaking too, once or twice just for the formalities. She feels like she’s on autopilot; she feels like her mind is running a million miles per hour. She wonders if Xiu Lihua feels the same. She hopes Xiu Lihua feels the same.
Suddenly, the other woman taps the hilt of her sword against the wooden table. Ren Liufang stiffens, flinching at the sudden noise. She can’t remember the questions she asked or the the answers she received. She just wants to get out.
The old woman says something about her son. Ren Liufang sees Xiu Lihua’s expression instantly change. She has always been softhearted in that way, but Ren Liufang has something far stronger tying her to these cases.
“I’ll do my best to look into it. Your son will be safe,” Xiu Lihua promises. It’s a dangerous promise to make, one full of false hope and chances of possible failure. Ren Liufang is not so foolish to make a promise like that, but she supposes that is what will always make them different from each other.
The old woman doesn’t quite look like she trusts her either, but she seems to accept it, putting her faith into two cultivators—which only one being of formal status—to save her son. Ren Liufang prepares to walk away, work on the case as a one person unit. That’s the way it’s always been after all, she can’t expect it to be any different. But the old woman isn’t done. Suddenly, she jolts up, eyes desperate and voice pitched. “You must work together. Please. Two cultivators together, it would—I’ll double the payment for both of you!”
Ren Liufang purses her lips. “I must decline the offer, though I—”
“Oh Hell’s gates no. I work alone. Not with other sects’ disciples, and most definitely not with a woman I don’t even know,” Xiu Lihua snaps, hand tightening over her sword.
Ren Liufang digs her fingernails into the back of her hand and tightens her jaw. If she didn’t, no doubt would something unpleasant happen.
The woman continues pleadingly, “Please, I have my savings stored in my home, I can up the pay—”
Ren Liufang does not care about the money. She has more money than any of them know. She wants to wants to leave. She wants to never see Xiu Lihua again for as long as she lives. “That will not be necessary—” she starts, almost begging, but Xiu Lihua cuts in.
“Listen, whatever.” she waves her hand at Ren Liufang, casually, nonchalantly. Ren Liufang forces herself to not make any move that could possibly incriminate her. “You are—”
“Ren Liufang! Her name is Ren Liufang!” The child finally chimes in. Ren Liufang almost hates him. She hates herself and her big name, her reputation, and her status within the cultivation world.
Xiu Lihua scoffs but shrugs it off. “Fine, Ren Liufang—” she enunciates every syllable in the name to make it sound like a curse—“I don’t know you. So frankly, I’ll be taking this case alone, and you can buzz off.”
Ren Liufang opens her mouth, but the child beats her to responding.
“But Jie-jie, it’s Ren Liufang! I so want to see Ren Liufang—”
Ren Liufang resists the urge to cringe. It’s probably all the better that the child hasn’t used her moniker yet. Xiu Lihua might do more than just laugh at that one.
“And the money,” the old woman says on top of that, “The payment.”
“No, I work alone,” Xiu Lihua says firmly. Ren Liufang is inclined to agree with her, but it doesn’t sound like either the child or the woman are asking for her opinion. The other woman tugs her long sleeve out of the child’s grip, but he latches right back onto her leg.
“I’ll up the payment. Add hot food. Braised pork,” the old woman presses on. The child seems to agree with her, nodding along with the elder’s words.
“Please, Jie-jie? I want Ren Liufang to stay,” he says, big eyes shining. Ren Liufang looks away. Xiu Lihua looks conflicted for a second, but something seems to break in her expression.
“Fine. Fine!” She says loudly, whirling around to meet Ren Liufang’s eyes. She averts them again, and Xiu Lihua scoffs. “If you’re going to join in on the investigation, we can split up now and get as much information as we can. Meet me tonight by the southern entrance to Zhoucheng, where the forest that lies on both sides of the road ends.”
Ren Liufang could easily leave. She had her information. She had herself. She didn’t need anyone else to help her along with this.
Yet... she glances at the already celebrating child and the smiling woman. She imagines how much standing she would lose. And... Ren Liufang looks at Xiu Lihua, who scowls fiercely. Almost a splitting image.
Ren Liufang’s chest hurts. She nods once and turns heel, leaving a trail of dust in her wake.
She would just have to live with this.
❀ ❀ ❀
“I brought you some hot water and tea, as promised,” the innkeeper said quietly, as if speaking loudly would disturb the patient in the bed. Ren Liufang nods, letting the man place the tray carefully onto the table. He pauses for a second, and she has to blink twice to get him brave enough to actually talk to her.
“Ah, well, is Ren-daren sure you wouldn’t like any food? Our inn provides meals, and there’s an older woman downstairs with a pot of something fragrant,” he says, unable to meet her eyes. Ren Liufang swallows, glancing briefly at Xiu Lihua, in better condition but still very much incapacitated behind her.
“It is alright. However, can you please book the woman a room? Her son is in the area, and I’m sure she’d like to visit him. I’ll pay for all expenses. The pot,” she pauses, “Tell her to share it with her son, but I’d like to have a meal with her soon.”
The innkeeper looks a little taken aback, but he nods, bowing as he makes his way out of the room. The scent of the tea wafts out of the slight opening. Ren Liufang exhales, sitting down and pouring herself a cup. Her eyes draw themselves to the form of Xiu Lihua, who murmurs something in her sleep. She wonders how she will react when she wakes. Will she scream at Ren Liufang to go? Will she break something and tear her wound? Will she call her by that name again?
Ren Liufang wants to hear it.
But now is not the time to speculate. Closing her eyes, Ren Liufang goes over all the evidence she had collected. It was not much, but she wasn’t expecting much at all. The situation would be better if Xiu Lihua hadn’t gotten involved, but now was not the time to dwell on such things.
“Henan robes, intense energy. Curse marks, mass fear. Debt... Repaid,” she whispers to herself, eyebrows knitting together.
It made sense. It made sense, but it still gave her no answers.
Ren Liufang gazed past the closed blinds of the window, the light illuminating past the cloth. She slowly poured herself a cup of tea and sipped from it slowly.
She’d have to go back to the brothel soon.
❀ ❀ ❀
For Ren Liufang, the brothel is a natural stop for investigation.
It isn’t that she is lecherous or anything of the sorts. It was just a recurring theme. Escorts knew things normal villagers did not. They were not afraid to speak, and they were easy to charm if you knew how to.
Ren Liufang, who has a small face and an even smaller waist, knows it.
She saunters into the building with all the nobility of a sect cultivator, fancy robes trailing behind her. She had dusted her cheeks with a bit of pink earlier, if only to make herself seem less pale. Heads turn, though considerably less than she had expected. The bar counter was almost empty, and although Ren Liufang had opted to keep her sword hidden, she still sees people eyeing the corner of her hip where it usually hangs. Slowly, she sits down calmly at the counter and orders a drink, though she doesn’t intend on partaking in it. Not truly anyways. Ren Liufang downs the shot in one swallow, and as the alcohol disperses in her body, she asks for another one. Like she predicts, the atmosphere relaxes, and she waits for one of the courtesans to finally approach her.
Like expected, a man comes out first, muscled and well built. Ren Liufang eyes him up and down coolly, and he seems to get the message, disappearing through the screen door almost as soon as he have. A more lithe built man comes afterwards, smooth and pretty. At Ren Liufang’s second disgruntled look, his eyes seem to widen a little in realization, and he darts back into the door. Finally, a woman emerges from the entrance, and when Ren Liufang gives no visible response of dissatisfaction, she immediately takes the seat next to her, eyelashes curled and hips curved.
“What brings a noble cultivator such as you to a place like this?” The female courtesan says silkily, eyes glinting like a cats. Ren Liufang sips from her shot of baijiu, seemingly in thought.
“I was looking for some info,” she replies, dialect coming more strongly than before. “And I thought this might be the right crowd to get it.”
“Oh really?” The woman purrs, leaning close into Ren Liufang’s personal space. “And what makes you think we’ll do what you want?”
Ren Liufang lowers her eyelids and slants her body slighter towards the woman’s so that they’re closer than before. “I think you’re very beautiful.”
“Like I don’t hear that every day,” the woman scoffs, “You’ll have to try harder, darling.”
Ren Liufang finishes her liquor with a smooth movement. “There are men and women who will say that every day, to every doll they meet on the street. So much so that the word “beautiful” becomes meaningless. Do not discount their compliments, but do know that I like to choose my words much more wisely.”
The woman blinks for a second, before her lips break into a full bodied smirk. “So, what are you looking for? I saw a dead man on the street just while walking to work.”
“Mass murders,” Ren Liufang says, without missing a beat. “Have you heard of them? Rumor says the perpetrators are coming soon to Zhoucheng.”
“Ah, but you’ll protect us, won’t you?” The woman says appealingly, batting her eyelashes.
“I’ll do what I can,” Ren Liufang says simply. “Say, have there been any sort of strange things happening in this city? Maybe... originating from around twenty years ago?”
“Strange things happen all the time in these parts. You have to be specific, darling,” the woman snorts. Ren Liufang purses her lips.
“A black mark. Have you had any clients that seemed to be in pain, have long bandages running down their chests, or seemed to be breathing unusually heavy?” She asks directly, placing her hand on top of the woman courtesan’s. She startles a little bit, before tilting her chin in thought.
“No customers like that,” she says, eyes expectant, like she was looking for Ren Liufang to wilt. Ren Liufang doesn’t react, and the woman sighs, “However, there’s been one case that’s been... among the things you’ve mentioned.”
“Oh really? You sound very knowledgeable.”
For the first time, the woman looks unsure, and she taps her cheek once, eyes shimmering. “Come give me a kiss, and maybe I’ll tell you.”
Ren Liufang doesn’t blink. She leans forward and plants a small kiss on the bottom side of the woman’s jaw, hand tightening over the other one. When she draws back, the courtesan’s eyes are blown wide and shocked. She touches her cheek once blankly.
Ren Liufang wipes her lip on her sleeve. “So, the case?”
The courtesan leads Ren Liufang past the sliding door.
She might have to get her hands dirty for this one.
❀ ❀ ❀
Ren Liufang has changed many sets of bandages before. One was for girl trying to be brave. Another was for a boy trying to be a leader. Countless others followed, each shaped by the last.
But this is different. This feels wrong: she has no right to touch this woman this way. Like just changing bandages might do something. She doesn’t know what, and she doesn’t want to find out. The first time Ren Liufang’s snow white fingers touch Xiu Lihua’s bare skin, peeling back the bloodied bandages, she jerks away. The touch sends sparks up her hand, and it hurts.
It hurts her chest.
Ren Liufang’s hand almost trembles as she carefully undoes the red cloth from Xiu Lihua’s body, steady enough to keep the body from toppling over but not steady enough to calm her mind. The dried blood clings to her skin, and Ren Liufang can’t bear to breathe it in.
Then, her fingers brush over a raised patch of skin on Xiu Lihua’s back. Ren Liufang feels like she is sixteen again, feeling uprooted as the cold water digs sores into her legs and leaves her utterly empty.
She turns Xiu Lihua’s body over, and she sees the scars.
They don’t even look like scars upon closer inspection. The lines where the skin split are an unnatural color, sprouting from the curve of Xiu Lihua’s spine. Ren Liufang knows they must’ve hurt once, blood oozing out of the wound and staining the cloth of the robes. She’d be in unimaginable pain, just looking at those scars, Ren Liufang knows. But they don’t just look like scars, they look like butterfly wings.
Ren Liufang stops breathing; she is in that cold stream again, repenting. She takes off the rest of the bandages and quickly unwinds the clean roll, movements hasty and noticeably more sloppy than any other time before.
And this was why she was glad. Because restriction meant safety, and that was a secret she was willing to keep.
Her hands are shaking. Ren Liufang pours the hot water over them and onto the floor until her palms turn red from heat. Xiu Lihua’s breathing is more even than before, but she feels worse than ever before. Ren Liufang stares at her hands and buries her head into them.
She regrets.
❀ ❀ ❀
It’s no secret to the cultivation world that when Ren Liufang fights, she loses herself. That’s what earned her such a ridiculous nickname—Xiong Jinli, Vicious Koi—in the first place. There are two Ren Liufangs, one that is elegant, and one that is downright cruel. Both are feared.
Ren Liufang remembers how she felt when the first resentful spirits rushed at her, cutting at her robes, tearing at her skin. It definitely hurt; she had stumbled more than once. She had barely avoided a killing blow on the other side.
But her blood had rushed. Her eyes were open wide. Pure adrenaline streamed through her body and powered every single brutal blow. The scent of blood overpowered the air and wafted like a drug into her body. Honglei lived up to its name; its blade shone crimson in the faint moonlight, reflecting like the eyes of a beast. Her chest throbbed, but it wasn’t painful. She was...
Smiling.
But Ren Liufang is foolish. And that is why she clutches Xiu Lihua’s body to her own, soaring above the village gates and directly into the town. Mengdie flickers in Xiu Lihua’s feeble grasp, but Ren Liufang can’t bring herself to be suspicious. Sword slicing through the starless night sky, she dismounts her sword and lands on the ground with a billowing wave of dirt. Distantly, three figures rush towards her, and she recognizes it blurrily as the old woman, the child, and what looks to be the child’s guardian.
“Get a doctor. Tell them to meet me at the inn,” she grinds out, teeth gritted. The man on the side of the child takes a second to process the information before realizing, nodding firmly and patting the boy’s head before he runs off. The old woman approaches, but Ren Liufang shoots her glance, and she back off, holding the child back too, who looks to nearly be in tears as well.
“What happened?” the old woman gasps. The child clutches the side of her robes, and Ren Liufang has to bite back the fact that she should not be asking this in front of a child who clearly cannot handle that sort of information.
“Trouble,” she answers curtly, “She will be alright, as long as the doctor is qualified.”
That doesn’t seem to comfort the woman at the slightest, but it’s the child that seems the most distraught. “Ren Liufang, Ren Liufang! What happened to Jie-jie? What happened to—to Jie-jie?!” He wails. The town has just about gathered at the location now, and Ren Liufang curses herself for not pinpointing the location of the doctor earlier.
“She will be fine,” Ren Liufang repeats, but the boy only seems to cry louder.
“You’ll stay, right? You have to protect her! You have to protect Jie-jie!” He screams, tearing himself out of the old woman’s grip and banging his fists against Ren Liufang’s leg. She stumbles, and the old woman reaches out for him again, shushing him but to no avail.
“You’re the Xiong Jinli, right?! You can protect everybody! You’re strong! You can do anything!” The boy continues, sloppy tears dripping down his chin. Ren Liufang cringes at the moniker, tightening her grip on Xiu Lihua.
“That is all—” she starts, but the boy cuts her off again, voice splitting through the sky.
“Don’t leave Jie-jie behind!”
Ren Liufang’s heart drops through her chest. The old woman pulls the child away and bows her head at the cultivator, and she is left there, alone with a woman in her arms. Xiu Lihua breathes shallowly, and her eyelids flutter without opening.
Ren Liufang mounts her sword again and flies towards the inn.
Moments after she arrives at the building, the doctor bursts through the door, immediately issuing instructions for everyone present. Ren Liufang follows.
The sun is peeking through the horizon when they finish. The doctor almost collapses in relief, wiping her bloody hands on her robes. Ren Liufang wordlessly sits, hair more disheveled than twelve hours ago and robes bloody, though she can’t tell if it’s her own, the corpses, or Xiu Lihua’s.
“Are you going to stay?” the doctor asks, though she already knows the answer. Ren Liufang pulls the curtain blinds free and allows the light to flow in fully.
“I will stay,” she says.
And she does.
❀ ❀ ❀
Ren Liufang has not meditated in days. She pours herself a glass of tea and tries to ease her mind into some kind of tranquility but to no avail. Mengdie lays dormant against the wall, and she tries to at the very least stop staring at it.
It isn’t until a loud bang startles her out of her daze that Ren Liufang realizes she is far too out of it. She turns her head, and the bedcovers on the ground, the sheets tattered and ripped in some areas.
Xiu Lihua is awake.
The woman looks around frantically, and her hands automatically go to her side where her sword is supposed to be. Ren Liufang watches from the side, wondering if she should tell her that moving so excitedly would tear her wounds afresh. Suddenly, Xiu Lihua’s eyes zoom in on her, and those eyes widen.
“It hurts, Ren Ju.”
“You!” she exclaims, pointing a finger at Ren Liufang. She stares back indifferently, despite the rapid beating in her chest. Xiu Lihua’s chest heaves, and she feels up her bandages hastily. “You changed them?”
Ren Liufang’s cheeks burn, and she looks away. She hears another barrage of rustling sounds, and Xiu Lihua’s voice rings out again, “Where’s Mengdie?!” she almost shouts, a desperate note in her voice.
“Next to the window,” Ren Liufang says quietly, and Xiu Lihua jolts, as if hearing her voice is such a shock. The woman’s eyes trace through the small inn room and to the window, where they quickly settle in the sword, now glowing weakly. Xiu Lihua visibly relaxes, releasing a large sigh. However, her face is a bit redder than before.
“You—” she struggles for words—“You—why did you—why—I—” Xiu Lihua grits her teeth, and Ren Liufang allows a tinge of amusement to show on her face. “Why did you—oh screw it—I—” The woman breathes.
“Thank you,” she says, so softly that Ren Liufang cannot hear it. Her chest beats at the speed of sound, and she averts her eyes again, picking herself up from the ground. The innkeeper had since sent over several more pots of tea and hot water, and she pours a cup of the latter now.
“Drink,” Ren Liufang extends the cup to Xiu Lihua, face cold. The woman looks up at her, eyes widened again. Slowly, she takes ahold of the porcelain glass, her hands shaking as she brings the cup to her lips. Immediately, Xiu Lihua coughs, and Ren Liufang is almost concerned until she starts gulping down the water with fervor.
Ren Liufang draws back, satisfied. However, there’s still a burning question laying in her gut, and she finally finds the courage to open her mouth, “What do you remember about that night?”
Xiu Lihua appears contemplating for a second before saying, “A lot of powerful resentful spirits. They were attracted to—I mean they were perceptive than usual. I got two strikes and took them out soon after.”
“Anything else?” Ren Liufang presses, almost desperately. Xiu Lihua shoots her an annoyed look that borders on scathing.
“Wouldn’t you like to know,” she drawls, “I bet you didn’t get a single speck of dust on your stupid “mourning robes”. What, did those sect elders teach you to repel dirt with your spiritual energy?”
“It hurts, Ren Ju.”
Ren Liufang clenches her fists inside her robes. Without speaking, she turns away, heading towards the door.
“Where are you going?” Xiu Lihua calls after her, “Don’t think I’m worth your time anymore?”
Ren Liufang winces at that last statement, and she whirls around, face chilly. “I promised the old nai-nai a meal before we part,” she says coldly. “I suggest you clean yourself up. Your spiritual energy should be recovered enough for you to heal your injuries on your own. Your robes are next to the bed.”
If Xiu Lihua appears shocked at the harsh tone of her voice, Ren Liufang doesn’t want to notice. She opens the door and slams it shut.
It was not long before she could continue on her own way again. She would just have to wait.
❀ ❀ ❀
Footnotes:
This is a direct sequel to sunnyv’s first chapter, Chapter One: On Rogue Cultivators and Old Blood. Please read hers first.
Ren Liufang (任流芳): “Liufang” (流芳) is a phrase taken from the Chinese poet Pan Yue’s poem, called “Lamenting Her Death” and means “flowing fragrance”. The surname “Ren” (任) is spoken in the fourth tone. When spoken in the second tone (仁), it means “benevolence”. The name is read Ren (family name first) Liufang (courtesy name). Ren Liufang’s given name is Ren Ju (“Ju” meaning “chrysanthemum”). A given name (名) is the name given at birth while the courtesy name (字) is the name bestowed later when one reaches the age to receive training (mostly for nobles and royal class).
Honglei (红泪): the name of Ren Liufang’s sword, means “red tears”.
Xiong Jinli (凶锦鲤): Ren Liufang’s unofficial moniker, means “fierce koi”.
-daren (大人): the suffix used by the doctor to address Ren Liufang, used to denote “a position of power”.
Nai-nai (奶奶): means “grandma”. When used with “old” (老), can be used to address any elderly woman.
Jie-jie (姐姐): means “older sister”. Can be used to address any older girl, often used by children.
(Recap from sunnyv’s footnotes)
Cultivator: people possessing spiritual power that refine their body to the point of possessing magic-like abilities and longevity.
Sect: an organized group of cultivators that control a certain patch of territory.
Resentful spirits/energy: malevolent energy from those who have died, reanimated.
chapter i: https://theprose.com/post/383820/chapter-one-on-rogue-cultivators-and-old-blood
chapter iii: https://theprose.com/post/385866/chapter-three-on-curse-marks-and-splintered-promises