Zizi shifted. In an instant, Yiran found himself on the floor, coughing from a blow to his stomach.
Zizi shook his hair off his face. “Stay down. I don’t want to hurt you.”
Yiran scoffed. “You got lucky.”
Quick swipe at the legs, and Zizi stumbled forward. This time, Yiran’s punch caught him on the cheekbone. Before Yiran could bask in satisfaction, Zizi shoved him against the counter. The edge of the island dug painfully into his spine, but he scuffled for a chance to get another jab in.
“Stop,” Zizi hissed, gripping Yiran’s arms.
Yiran found himself pinned down on the counter, his back arched as he tried to throw the other boy off. But Zizi was stronger than he looked, Yiran gave him that.
Zizi’s shirt hung loose, tickling Yiran’s neck as he leaned in. “I get one hit to your face because you tried to ruin my prettier one, and then we’re square and this ends.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Yiran caught a metallic flash. His fingers found what he was looking for. Warmth pulsated through him, a flurry of energy spreading to his fingers.
He sneered. “I don’t like your terms,wizard.”
He shoved Zizi off. Exhaling, he started to run a hand down the blade of Rui’s sword.
“Stop! You can’t use it!” Zizi shouted.
“Says who?” Yiran grinned as the blade began to glow.
“You could die.”
Yiran wavered, his hand stopping mid-blade.
Zizi looked dead serious. “You’re untrained and your spirit core is bloated with qi. It’s unstable. Any time you try to use magic, you’restraining it, forcing it to do something it’s not meant to do. If your core breaks, you die.”
“This isn’t something to joke—”
“Do I look like I’m joking? Put. The. Sword. Down.”
Heat was flaring inside of Yiran. His surroundings seemed to throb against him. What if Zizi was telling the truth? Was magic worth the price of his life? Fear flooded his brain. He didn’t know the answer. Wasn’t prepared to find out.
Shakily, he placed Rui’s sword back on the counter and shallowed his breath. The heat inside him began to cool.
Zizi pinched the bridge of his nose. “Thank gods. Please don’t do anything so stupid again,” he said.
Relaxing, he winked at Yiran—and threw a punch.
12
Rui
Something incredibly soft was nuzzling her cheek. The warm weight on her chest was...purring?
Rui cracked one eye open. A black paw with pink toe beans was zooming in. She closed her eye with a sigh. But Mao continued to tap on her nose, until finally, Rui gave up on sleep.
She nudged the cat off and tried to sit up, yelping as pain pierced her shoulder and ribs. The pajama top she had on was two sizes too big and printed with tiny colorful cupcakes—totally not her style. Hazy memories seeped into her mind: the Night Market, the Revenant, Song Yiran’s desperate voice speaking to her as he ran all the red lights racing to Mort Street... She’d slipped into darkness, only to be greeted by pale blue eyes when she regained consciousness.
Heat crept up her neck when she remembered Zizi asking for permission to remove her sweater so he could tend to her wounds. There’d been no time for modesty. Better to survive and live with the mortification of him seeing her in a bra than die on his ridiculous chaise. At least it was the nice lacy bra Ada had given her for her birthday.
Gingerly, Rui unraveled the bandages around her ribs. A new scar had formed on her side. Pink and tender, it looked like it was weeks old instead of a few hours young. Her light brown skin was pallid, and she could see the faint tracing of green and blue veins. Teeth chattering, she rubbed the unpleasant gooseflesh on her arms and wrapped the blanket tightly around herself. A faint scent of strawberries and mint wafted from the sheets. It was a scent that lingered around Zizi.
Was thishisroom?
A shiver went down her spine, though this time it wasn’t from the cold. She came to the shophouse often enough, but she’d never been up on thesecond floor, let alone Zizi’s bedroom.
