The door finally opened, and Rui gestured him in.
The last time these same three pairs of eyes were staring at him, Ash had discovered something miraculous about his brother. This time, he was even less sure what to expect.
“Hey, Lan Xi,” Zizi said cheerfully, breaking the silence. He was holding a plate of buttered toast.
“I didn’t know you were back too,” Ash said, still astonished that the scrawny boy he’d met in an alleyway was, allegedly, an immortal being from the underworld. Apart from the silver emo-streaks in his hair, he looked more or less the same, albeit paler and thinner.
“Miss me?” Zizi asked slyly.
Ash did not bother to answer.
“Hi, Ash,” Yiran mumbled, unable to meet his eyes.
It was easy to take that as a sign of guilt, but the video footage he’d seen had convinced Ash of Yiran’s innocence. They faced each other, awkward and uncomfortable. Ash wanted to hug his little brother, but his hands stayed by his sides.
Huffing, Rui grabbed him and Yiran by the wrists, dragging them to the living room. She pointed at the couch. “Sit.”
They sat.
“Now talk to each other,” she commanded.
She shoved Zizi and his stack of toast into the kitchen, even though it was obvious he very much wanted to stay and listen to what the Song brothers had to say. The apartment was too small for there to be any real privacy, but Ash appreciated her efforts. He could sense the turmoil inside Yiran. There was no point playing games; it was best to be forthright.
“I saw you at the teahouse with Yeye, but I know you didn’t do it. Iknewyou would never.”
Upon hearing his brother’s assurance, Yiran’s face crumpled, and he took a long, shaky breath.
“Where have you been?” Ash said softly. “I kept calling you. I even called Theo until he confessed he was covering for you. He’s worried too.”
Yiran was counting under his breath. His fingers unfurled, and Ash saw the small white scars. Scars that rebuked him. Scars he’d ignored over the years, telling himself that his brother was fine. That Song Wei was only doing what was best for the family.
“I got hold of security footage from that day,” Ash said. “I don’t know why you were at The Green Needle, but I’m sure you had a good reason. The Council says the spiritual energy erupted from you and that you murdered Yeye, but they’re wrong.” He wanted so badly to assure Yiran that everything would be fine. He would take care of it. He would take care of his little brother. “I saw something that will prove your innocence—I saw someone else at the teahouse. It wasn’t the clearest, but he... I’m sure I...” Ash couldn’t continue. Part of him didn’t want it to be true.
“You saw our father,” Yiran said dully.
“How did you know? Did you see him too?” Ash demanded, stunned that Yiran knew their father was alive. And just when he thought that nothing else could surprise him, Yiran exhaled and raised his hand.
Crimson sparks hovered over his fingers.
“I’ll start from the beginning.”
Ash listened attentively to everything Yiran had to say. He tried to stay calm, to exude the sense of stability and sanity he thought his brother needed to see. But the tough shell his body had built started to crack as Yiran’s revelations continued.
His first reaction was that it didn’t sound like the father he knew. But if he was being honest with himself, he didn’t know his father well at all. Truth was, they hadn’t been as close as he’d led younger Yiran to think. Song Liming had been far too busy with his Exorcist duties to be home much, and for some reason, there’d always been a kind of barrier betweenfather and son. In some ways, it felt like Ash’s birth had disappointed his father somehow.
Ash had been so excited when Yiran joined the family, and he’d wanted his new brother to be proud of the Songs. He had wanted to show how amazing their father was, thinking that the amazingness would rub off on himself too, and that Yiran would like him more. What were a few embellishments and white lies about their relationship if he could make his brother proud? Make him love his new family? But Ash understood now that in his effort to pull Yiran closer, he had pushed him away.
Yiran had started trembling in the middle of talking. Ash wondered how many times his brother had to patch himself up, sewing himself together again and again after tearing apart. Even once was too many.
He reached over, taking Yiran’s hand in his own. “I’m sorry... for everything.”
“I blamed you,” Yiran said. But when he finally looked up, he was smiling. “But I wasn’t being fair. I don’t anymore.”
Ash smiled back. It felt like a chasm was closing. Someone would have to take down Song Liming eventually, and he swore it would not be his brother.
There was still the matter of the Guild Council at hand. The Council members had not told Ash that Yiran was an Amplifier. They’d kept the truth from him. Lied to him. How long had he been a good, obedient soldier for them? How long had he carried out their will and his grandfather’s will, swallowing his questions, quieting his own voice? He’d thought it was his duty to carry on the Song legacy, but it was a tainted and terrible one. It didn’t have to continue this way. He could break the cycle.
“I don’t think the Council knows about Dad—about Song Liming,” he said. He hadn’t gotten used to not calling that manDadyet. “They pinned Yeye’s death on you so they could send Exorcists after you without revealing you’re an Amplifier.”
