His gaze seared into mine, and suddenly I saw myself laughing with Autumn, my clothes dripping wet but my eyes bright with mirth. I saw myself from afar, stopping a zuqiu ball from rolling into the pond, then throwing it back to the boys who’d been playing in the palace courtyard. I saw myself teaching Lily how to defend herself. I watched myself stumble after a particularly grueling practice session, my body flagging before Lily asked if we could duel once more. Despite my fatigue, I nodded, forcing myself upright. “One more time,” I agreed, because I didn’t know how much time I had left to teach her.
I surfaced from these memories with a gasp. For a moment, I was too startled to speak. My surprise was so great even my tears had ceased. “Lei.” I cleared my throat. “Did you just…compel me?”
His lips twitched. “I think you’d know if I suddenly became a spirit summoner,” he said wryly.
“Then…what was that?” All those memories, I realized, they hadn’t been from my perspective.They were from his.
“Sometimes, when the Ruan form a particular bond withsomeone, they can endeavor to communicate in more ways than one.” He hesitated, before explaining, “It began after you saved my life, back on Mount Fuxi.”
“Since Mount Fuxi?” I exclaimed. “You could read my mind since Mount Fuxi? Have you done it before?”
“No,” he replied, before amending reluctantly, “Well, perhaps once or twice.”
Outraged beyond words, I could only glare at him.
“It’s only when the thought is aimed at me,” he clarified. “Then it’s rather like you’re shouting in my head.”
I flushed indignantly. “It’s not fair,” I said. “It’s not fair that you can know what I’m thinking, that you can even speak into my mind, and I can’t do any of that.”
“But you can,” said Lei, surprised into laughter. “Sweetheart, you’re the summoner of a Cardinal Spirit.”
I shook my head. “It doesn’t matter. Your mind is like a locked door to me. I can’t read you. Believe me, I’ve tried.”
He considered this, trying and failing to conceal his gratification. “How about…now?”
I blinked at him. His smile was as playful and unknowable as ever. But this time, when I looked into his eyes, I felt a soft wave of feeling overcome me. A crack in the doorway, left open just for me.
I stepped closer to him instinctively. His emotions were like a gentle summer wind, enveloping me in their warmth. He was proud of me; I could feel the strength of his pride. He believed in me; he believed I could change the world. But still, he was afraid for me. He was afraid for my safety, for my well-being, for how little I slept at night. He knew how many people wanted things from me; he was guilt-ridden for wanting more. That was why he hadn’t asked outright—he’d wanted the choice to be mine.
“I promised you—I will go with you to the eternal spring.” Lei’s voicein my head was like a warm caress, nothing like Qinglong’s icy brutality. “The moment you decide to leave, I will go with you. Just say the word.”
I looked up at him. How strange that I had once hated this man, that I had once wished him dead. Now I trusted his promise. I trusted it with my life.
It was my responsibility to fix this; I understood that now. I was not my father, who destroyed but never mended. I would not leave behind a legacy of ruin; I would not let my memory be one of cowardice. All my life, I had been taught selfish ambition. My father had modeled how to fend for yourself, how to consider your own desires before the needs of others. After all, how else could you survive in a society as harsh as ours? Without a sober father and a sane mother, how else could you thrive in a world this unforgiving?
But there was another way to live. I had seen it in Xiuying; I had even glimpsed it in Sky and Lei. Those who sought to change the world for the better, who believed not only in the goodness of the world but also in their own inherent goodness. Those who trusted that their actions would not corrupt, but heal.
“I will,” I thought to Lei, and I caught the flicker of recognition in his eyes. Aloud, I said, “Were you spying on me? Back in the Forbidden City.” At his crooked smirk, I asked, “How? I never saw you.” And I had made certain there were no bystanders at our illegal practice sessions. If anyone had known I’d been training the palace servant girls, it would have been a criminal offense.
Lei’s eyes crinkled. “I can’t give up all my secrets,” he said. “Where’s the fun in that?”
“Where did Kuro go?” Iasked, as we returned to the city.
“He came back from the spirit realm hours before you,” said Lei. “He wasn’t really in the mood to chat.”
I shot him a sardonic look. “I gather you suspect what happened,” I said.
Lei nodded. “It’s unfortunate for the Black Scarves. Lü Jinya was their linchpin.”
“Really?” I asked, not because I hadn’t respected her, but because she’d always seemed secondary to Kuro.
“Kuro relied on her for all their logistics coordination, offense strategy, and supply operations.”
“No wonder he took it so hard,” I said.
“It seems there may have been other reasons for his grief,” said Lei. “They grew up together on the outskirts of Xianju, near the Runong Desert. That’s where the rebellion began, as you may have heard.”
“How do you know all this?” I demanded.
