You wantyouback.
The child, the toddler with crimson sparks on his fingertips... it was him. Therewasa time when he’d shown the signs of having magic. He was too young to understand, but his grandfather must have known. And for some reason, he’d decided to rip it out of Yiran. Unable to grapple with all that had ensued after arriving at Song Mansion, Yiran had somehow blocked out the past, corrupted his own mind and convinced himself that he’d always been normal in order to survive the ordeal. He’d bought into his grandfather’s lies. He’d dug the grave, buried the truth deep, covered it with dirt, and even watered the flowers and watched them bloom.
But somewhere in his subconscious, he had always known where the corpse lay.
“Are you okay?”
The pressure was suffocating.
“Yiran, are you okay?”
He struggled to count.One, two, three... eleven.Yiran blinked. His world zoomed out. The ringing in his ears stopped.Air filled his lungs.
L was staring at him anxiously. “Are you all right?”
“I... I think so,” he said weakly.
She started removing the needles from his body. “Your pulse became unstable, and you were losing consciousness for a few seconds. I don’t think it’s my needles, but I’m not sure. How do you feel?”
Yiran’s head had cleared. In fact, it was clear for the first time in a longtime. A strange calm wrapped around him like a blanket. “Is the block permanent?” he asked in a voice that didn’t quite sound like his own.
Still looking worried, L said, “There’s a variation of the technique where the block is tied to another magic wielder’s spirit core—think of it as one suppressing another. As long as the second magic wielder remains alive, the block stays. Since it’s not a permanent block or severance of a person’s spirit core and meridians, in theory the block could be removed and its effects reversed. But while it’s in effect, it will continue to drain the second magic wielder’s life force—like a payment or debt. It seems unlikely that anyone would willingly use this specific technique and bind themselves this way.”
Yiran forced a smile. “Thanks for answering my question. I would like to rest now.”
“If you like, I can give you something to help you sleep.”
“I don’t think I’ll have trouble sleeping,” he said, still smiling as he pulled on his sweater. He lay down on the bed, making it obvious he wanted to be left alone.
The lines between L’s brows deepened, but she took the bowl and her box of needles and retreated.
It was night when Yiran got up. He grabbed his jacket and padded softly out of the room. There was no sign of L or Yuki. Careful not to make a sound, he found his way to the entrance of the shophouse. His boots were there waiting for him. One of the soles was peeling off, but he put them on and opened the front door.
Swaddled in a thick wool cape, L was standing outside with a steaming mug of tea in her mittened hands. She didn’t seem surprised. Had she been expecting him?
“As a healer, I’d advise you to stay another day,” she said, but her tone implied she wouldn’t stop him.
Yiran zipped his jacket. “There’s something I need to do.”
“Yuki will be upset that you left without saying goodbye.”
“He’ll survive.”
“Want some wisdom?”
“It wouldn’t hurt.”
L blew lightly over her tea, staring at him with her large eyes. “The truth is often ugly. If you intend to find yours, I suggest you understand that first.”
But Yiran already knew the ugly kernel ofhistruth. If he went looking for more, if he dug out his grandfather’s and father’s secrets, their truths, would he be able to stomach the sight?
He glanced down the dark empty street. One of the streetlamps was sputtering as if it was on its last legs. The road ahead looked spooky and unknown. But a second later, something connected, and the lamp lit up fully. The shadows disappeared and the street was bright again. He could see the path clearly.
“I understand,” he said, more to himself than to L.
The white lantern smiled. “You know, I thought you were running away from your problems, but maybe what you’re doing is running toward them.”
36
