“I was ten years old. Even though it happened so long ago, I remember the day so clearly…” he said, his gaze distant, piercing through the dense jungle. Then he smiled. “My brother Xiaolong loved cats and sweets and, most of all, playing games. He was always the one who could make anything fun, even during a long day of our father’s ceremonies. He was often getting into trouble because of it, but no one could hold it against him for too long. Everyone adored him. We would play games for hours together—games he made up or games that we had lying around the palace. His favorite was Go. It’s a game of strategy, incredibly complex and difficult to master. But I think that’s why he liked it so much. It’s all about endless potential. You never play the same match twice. He would want to play every day, even when we weren’t near a board. So instead of stones, we used different-colored adzuki beans that we stole from the kitchens so we could play anywhere. He would always beat me, too.” He laughed brightly, and it made me smile, too, even though I knew how this story was going to end.
“One night, we were up late playing Go well past our bedtime. There was a scratching noise at the door, and we thought it was one of our pet cats, so Xiaolong got up to let it in while I reset the board. But after a while, he didn’t come back.
“I went to check on him, half expecting him to leap out as a prank, but what I saw instead…” Qian let out a huff of breath like he’d been punched in the gut, and he looked pained at the memory, but he continued despite it. “I found him in the hallway with what I thought was a mandarin—one of Father’s officials in a long robe and tall brimmed hat. He was holding Xiaolong by the face. I called out to them, but Xiaolong didn’t move. His bodytwitched like he was having some kind of fit, and the mandarin, well, he wasn’t a mandarin at all. The jiangshi dropped Xiaolong and turned to me, not turning its head but its whole body. It was as stiff as a board, its skin a deep shade of green, arms stretched forward as if searching for something to hold. A paper talisman was attached to the middle of its forehead, and its pale white eyes were fixated on me.
“Jiangshi can’t walk or run—this onehopped, knees and legs locked, arms outstretched to me, gaining more speed. I’d never seen anything like it before. I didn’t know what else to do. So I did the only thing I could…I ran.
“I ran back into the game room. It tried to grab me, just scraping my shoulder, and it burned like fire. I tripped over the Go board, knocking down all the pieces when I hit the floor. I couldn’t get up fast enough. The jiangshi was almost on me, but before it pounced, it stopped. I didn’t understand why it didn’t attack me. All I wanted to do was get away, but I couldn’t move, I couldn’t scream. I just watched it as its gaze darted around the floor, at all the beans, and that’s when I realized it was counting them. I only learned later that the jiangshi have an innate desire to count. They can’t do anything else until they’re done. I’d unknowingly set a trap. It gave me enough time to get away and get help.
“It turned out that a vengeful priest had raised the corpse to try to assassinate my father. Xiaolong was just in the way. If he’d stayed with me, if I’d been the one to go to the door…Xiaolong would still be alive.”
When Qian stopped talking, he took a deep breath and nodded, as if he’d finally gotten it all off his shoulders and into theopen. I could tell the memory hurt. The guilt he carried was heavier than any crown.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “That’s horrible.”
“At least Xiaolong didn’t suffer. He didn’t have time to know what was happening when the jiangshi consumed all his qi…But I made a promise from that day forth that I’d never let anything like that happen again, especially not to anyone in my family. And I promisedmyselfthat I would never run away, never again.” He showed me his right hand, gesturing to a jade ring on his thumb. “This is my archer’s ring. It’s a hunter’s mark.”
“It’s beautiful,” I said.
Qian tipped his head and smiled. “Thank you.”
I couldn’t think of anything else to say, but it seemed like Qian didn’t mind the silence, so we quietly continued our walk through the jungle. His gaze remained distant, like he was caught in a memory, but he held his head high. To have lived through something like that sounded traumatic and terrible, and it made sense why he would be so protective of his family after surviving such a thing. I understood completely why he wanted to keep Nix close.
“I bet your brother would be really proud of you,” I said.
Qian smiled sadly. “I think so, too. Though I haven’t been able to bring myself to play another game of Go since then, and I imagine he would be upset about that. It just doesn’t feel the same without him. Though I think with the right company, I could play again.” His eyes locked on mine. The implication made my stomach flutter.
“Who, me? I’ve never played Go before,” I said. “I’d probably be so bad at it, I’d be doing Xiaolong’s memory a disservice.”
“I doubt that. Everyone starts somewhere. But if you’re so set on diminishing your abilities, I can think of a number of other activities I’d like to do with you…” His words were silky smooth. He flashed me a rakish grin, like he knew exactly what was happening and was pleased with himself about it.
My brain couldn’t quite process it, and the way Qian was watching me made me all the more flustered. For once, the horrible, hungry voice in my head was quiet. Unlike when I was with Lucas, it didn’t lash out. It occurred to me only now how alone Qian and I were, and my heart skipped a little at the thought of it. I wasn’t afraid of Qian, not in the slightest. Being with him was normal and felt suspiciously like we were on a date.
We could share a kiss here, and no one would know about it.
The idea sent a thrill through me. But he was still Nix’s brother, and he was off-limits. I couldn’t believe I could think such a thing. Besides, I couldn’t be as open and honest with him as he was with me. I couldn’t tell him my deepest, darkest secret. He hunted monsters, and I was turning into one. It didn’t matter that I was starting to like him or that he might like me; we couldn’t be together.
But he smiled at me with an easiness and warmth that made it hard for me to look at anything else. I wanted to ask him what he was thinking, but a part of me was afraid to know. Could there really be more happening between us, or was I just imagining things?
“Why were you so troubled earlier?” Qian asked. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“Not particularly. It’s…a lot.”
“I could tell.”
I sighed deeply and mustered the courage to be a little more forthcoming. “I had my fortune told. Tarot cards. And I didn’t like what I saw.”
“Your fortune?” Qian raised his eyebrows and jutted out his lower lip, as if he had expected me to say something different. “You believe that?”
“We live in a world full of magic. Is fortune-telling that far-fetched?”
Qian wrinkled his nose. “Fair point, but perhaps I’m more unwilling to let a deck of cards tell me what’s to come. Life is too complex. And I’d much rather live in the moment than worry about what might happen. Wouldn’t you?” He smiled again, and it made me feel better.
“I like that a lot, actually,” I said. “I guess I’m just looking for answers wherever I can get them.”
“Life’s all about little surprises.” He plucked a flower from a nearby tree and presented it to me. It was an orchid, its white-and-pink petals looking like candy. He placed the flower behind my ear, and the tips of his fingers brushed my skin, sending a shiver down my spine. “Did the cards by chance tell you that I would do that?”
“They did not,” I said, trying to maintain my composure, but a smile crept its way onto my lips. “I’d love to see what other surprises you have in store.”
