“I promised Official Yi that I’d meet him in Hulin within three weeks. You must follow the same timeline, which means that I’ll help you replenish your qi—but only on the way to Hulin.”
“Clever,” said the prince, nodding. “Should I fail to gather enough qi or give you the money as promised, you’ll still have Official Yi to fall back on. I can’t say I’m not a little chilled by your plan.”
I shrugged. “You can’t blame me for wanting a little insurance either.”
“Seeing asIhave no insurance whatsoever”—he smiled in spite of his disadvantage—“may I ask for a condition as well? It’d only be fair.”
I nodded slowly. I could be fair.
“I’m not asking for much, just that one of our stops before reaching Hulin be the town of Baimu in Sian.”
I frowned. Baimu, of all places, was my hometown. I was certain I hadn’t named it during our conversation. “What business does a prince have in Baimu?”
“I left something precious there that needs to be recovered,” he replied.
If he wished to bait me into asking more, he’d be disappointed. I shook off the last of my curiosity. Whatever he spoke of was no concern of mine. His condition was a small price to pay anyway. The route we’d take to reach the capital intersected Baimu. And should I detect any crookedness in the prince’s request, I had my insurance.
“Very well, Your Highness.” The sun had already begun bleeding into the earth, staining the bamboo stems red. “We depart tomorrow morning.”
He was visibly relieved. “I appreciate it, Mistress… Kang, was it?”
“That’s right, Your Highness.”
“Just call me Ren,” he said, giving me an amused look. “We both know you care little for my status.”
I didn’t deny it, but it still felt wrong to address him so casually when we were mere acquaintances, if even that. “I’ll stick with ‘Your Highness,’” I said, “in case you decide to imprison me on a whim.”
He rolled his eyes. “I wouldn’t—”
We both stilled as a growl rumbled loudly from his stomach.
“Are you hungry?” I asked.
He looked down at his abdomen, the curiosity in his voice almost comedic. “Yes, I suppose I am.”
I’d never met a corpse who felt hunger—or fatigue or pain of any kind. But then again, he wasn’t a corpse anymore, was he? By some miracle, he was really and truly alive again. Only, the life he’d reclaimed would expire if he didn’t obtain enough qi soon.
I shook my bells. “Come along, then. I’m sure we can find you something to eat. Heaven knows you need all the energy you can get.”
As he followed me back to the hut, he pressed, “So what does your father need all this money for?”
I chewed the inside of my cheek, realizing he wasn’t going to let this go. He might as well know. Perhaps it would prompt him to bother me less.
“He’s sick,” I said. I didn’t add,And it’s your father’s fault.
Later that evening, after we’d eaten a simple dinner of rice and smoked eel prepared by Mistress Ming, the wisewomanbrought out a polished wood case with a metal clasp. Inside its unlined bed was a string of mala beads, similar to the ones I wore around my neck. But Mistress Ming’s was shorter and strung with fifty-four beads of ox bone. They were also startlingly cold to the touch.
The wisewoman motioned for Ren to lean forward so she could loop the necklace over his head. He shivered as the beads brushed the back of his neck.
“Most of the beads are cold now because your qi is weak,” explained Mistress Ming, lifting the necklace and rubbing a smooth, round bone with her thumb. “But as you gather more qi, the other beads will grow warm. Only when all fifty-four beads are warm will you be able to survive without the reanimation talisman.”
“The beads can’t be warmed by anything else?” I asked, studying the necklace as I nibbled on a piece of persimmon, a favorite crop of Wen.
“No.” Mistress Ming smiled. “Shall I demonstrate? Please turn around, Your Highness.”
I permitted Ren to move with a ring of my bells, and he obeyed the wisewoman’s request, his expression quizzical. Mistress Ming knelt behind him and placed both palms in the center of his back. Then she closed her eyes and breathed slowly.
To my amazement, a faint white glow appeared where the wisewoman’s hands touched him. After several seconds, Mistress Ming pulled away and reopened her eyes, the glow disappearing.
