Once, twice, thrice. Four times.
And as his body crumbled to dust and her heart shattered to pieces, she thought she saw him smile.
73
Rui
The first whispers of spring had touched the city, the longer daylight hours carrying with them a fresh scent of hope. A bustling hum of traffic and conversation pulsed through the air, punctuated by honks and shouts from impatient drivers and pedestrians alike.
Rui sidestepped yet another gawking couple taking photos in the middle of the sidewalk. Tourists. They descended on the city as the weather warmed, milling around like lost ducklings, getting in the way of everyone as they came to a sudden halt to stare, mouths agape, at the giant skyscrapers and digital billboards.
A burst ofooohs from a group of girls caught her attention, and she followed their pointing fingers to one of the enormous screens on the side of a building. The handsome face of Song Yiran flashed from the live stream of a news broadcast.
Rolling her eyes at both Yiran and the girls, Rui walked on.
The existence of Hybrids and the full truth of what Song Liming had done had been revealed by Ash and Yiran soon after the showdown at the old seaport. That singular act of honesty and courage from the Song brothers bought them some grace and patience from the public. It helped that Yiran was given credit for foiling a vicious plot to bomb the city, and Ash had taken a leaf out of the Guild Council’s playbook, seeding a positive media narrative about Yiran’s special abilities immediately to circumvent anything untoward the Council had planned for his brother.
Song Liming’s trial was instant and his punishment swift. He was stripped of his magic and imprisoned for life. The news coverage of what he had done would go on for weeks or even months. There was still tension between the Council and the heir apparent, which had to be resolved,but the public now regarded Ash as the leader of the Exorcists. He wanted to change things, to weed out the corruption in the Guild and the Council, and Rui had vowed to help him. Under his guidance, the Guild sought to regain the people’s trust and restore peace and calm to the city.
The Blight had stopped infecting living humans. And with their mastermind gone, the remaining Hybrids scattered, and most were easily picked off, though the search for some would continue. The original Revenants still formed, but those were monsters people had come to accept. Humans were resilient, Rui supposed. They got up after they fell and moved on. They were also partial to a feel-good story of two telegenic brothers saving the world.
It didn’t take long before she reached a quaint neighborhood with a small enclave of shophouses. Tiny pink and white buds had sprouted on the trees lining Mort Street. Soon the cherry blossoms would bloom, but the dregs of winter lingered in her heart.
The line of shophouses looked the same as before. The only change was that the paint on the most colorful building had faded, and the murals of old golds inked onto the facade seemed distant and still. Rui wasn’t sure what had possessed her to come here.
The Blight was no longer infecting living humans, which meant the balance between the realms of the living and the dead had been fully restored. She could feel it in the atmosphere, as if a veil had been lifted and her world was brighter. That meant the power of thetenKings was in effect, right? And thathestill existed in some form despite what had happened...
Right?
Rui knew she should be elated that the mortal realm was stable again, and she was. But every night, she lay in bed thinking about what-ifs and what-could-have-beens about a boy-god she couldn’t remember. It felt as though she was still missing something—a thought, a word, a memory, a piece of her soul. The other half of her heart.
She felt like an unfinished story waiting for a conclusion.
She walked through the gates of the shophouse and pushed the front door open.
There was only silence inside. The merry fountain had stopped working, its waters murky and green with algae. Dust lined the shelves filled with funeral paraphernalia, and the scent of stale incense grew stronger as a breeze came through, but the wind chimes did not ring.
A bell tinkled, and a black ball of fur bounded toward her.
“Mao!” Rui scooped the cat up in her arms and held her close.
Mao’s fur was clean, and she looked plump and well-fed. Rui checked her collar. It was the old one. The cat didn’t have a new owner. Were the neighbors taking care of her, or was she simply good at surviving on the streets by herself?
Rui squeezed the purring ball of fur tightly. “You’re coming home with me.”
Mao chirped, as if in agreement. She struggled free, and Rui set her down. The cat slow-blinked once and walked down the corridor toward the rear courtyard. Curious, Rui followed. But the sight of it shocked and confused her.
The beautiful wisteria tree in the middle had been chopped down to a bare stump, its vines and branches strewn across the ground, its once-vibrant flowers withered to a crisp. The tree was... dead. Whatever magic or power that had kept it alive was now gone.
Rui’s foot hit something among the decaying roots. A sketchbook with a pink sticky note on top. There was one line and a date written in slanted handwriting.
Thought you might like to have this.
The date was the night Zizi had visited her dorm. The night when it had felt like he’d come to bid her farewell.
Not knowing what to expect, she flipped through the sketchbook with trembling hands. There was only a single drawing across two facing pages.
A young woman in a purple hanfu in the arms of a young man with long silvery-white hair; a girl scowling at a boy with an off-kilter grin.
