Yiran shrugged. “Apologies for my strong will to survive. It’s a product of my upbringing.”
“Have you ever felt unexplainable energies around you?” Zizi said, twirling his cigarette.
“No.”
“Are you sure?”
“Like you said, I’m ordinary. I was born without the ability to practice magic. I can’t sense anything.”
“Why do I find that hard to believe?”
“Would you like me to swear it on my father’s grave?” Yiran snapped.
An odd look crossed Zizi’s face as he stuck his cigarette back behind his ear. “Sorry about your dad.”
The words were an unexpected punch to the gut, painful because of how gently and kindly Zizi had said them. For one, there was nothing about Zizi that suggested he was gentle or kind. Yiran could only assume he’d meant to patronize. For another, everyone knew of Song Liming and how he’d gotten himself killed in typical Song fashion—heroically.
Yiran had never asked Ash anything about their father. It was bad enough Yiran never knew the man, but knowing him through the lens of someone whose life he’d been part of since birth would be impossible to stomach.
Zizi resumed his battering of coffee beans. A few broken bits jumped out of the bowl, arranging themselves haphazardly on the counter. Yiran picked up a piece, turning it around with his fingers.
“You know what?” Zizi said in between his bashing. “Never mind. I don’t care about you. I’ll just have to figure out a way to fix this so Rui won’t hate me.”
The jagged edge of the coffee bean dug into Yiran’s fingertips. “I thought you didn’t know how to reverse the spell?”
Zizi grinned. “Nothing is impossible. AndIam very gifted.”
Yiran didn’t think anyone could look so shameless. “The spell Rui used—it’s one of yours, isn’t it? That’s why she said she couldn’t go to the hospital and that’s why you don’t want the Guild involved. You broke some magical rule.”
“Rules are for cowards who have no vision,” Zizi replied tartly.
Ordinarily, Yiran would agree. But this was a matter of family pride.His grandfather might not think so, but Yiran was still a Song. Or at least, he was trying to be one. The Guild was doing their best to ensure that society didn’t run amok with people who used magic to harm others. Rui had dragged him into her spell without asking for consent. Sure, she had a good reason to: it was their only chance to stay alive. But it didn’t change the fact that what she did was wrong. A Xingshan Academy cadet in cahoots with a mage...
He flicked the coffee bean. “I assume the both of you want to keep tonight a secret?”
Neither of them missed the subtle threat in Yiran’s question.
The blue in Zizi’s eyes chilled. He came around the counter, lips twisting into a nasty grin. “I get the feeling we’re not the only ones who want to keep this quiet, Song er shaoye.”
His use of the honorific grated on Yiran’s nerves. “Says the bloody wizard who sold a girl a dangerous and illegal spell he can’t undo.”
“I am amage,” Zizi sniffed. “I didn’t sell the spell to her, and she wasn’t supposed to cast it on herself.”
“She didn’t have much of a choice. She was injured, and the Revenant was going to kill us.”
“And for some reason she chose you, of all people, as her savior? Why were you even there?”
Yiran forced himself to look the other boy in the eye. “I had a fight with my grandfather. I got angry and thought I could capture a Revenant alive.”
Zizi laughed. “That may be the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard in my life.”
Yiran’s fists wanted to yell hello to the other boy’s face, but he kept them by his side.
Zizi didn’t seem to notice the change in Yiran’s expression. Or maybe he didn’t care. He went on, not bothering to soften his scorn. “Guess it must be hard, growing up as a Song without magic, especially with your father and that slimy protégé brother of yours. It’s not surprising you have granddaddy issues.”
Something in Zizi’s words crossed the line. It wasn’t because he was wrong.
The first punch grazed Zizi’s hair instead of his nose as he ducked. The second punch was too slow and missed entirely.
