“Would you like to be arrested in peace?” I hissed. “Then, by all means, let’s wait for the song to end.”
He turned. “Pardon?”
I shoved the medicine into his arms and placed my hand against his back. Then I pushed him away from the crowd and down the lane, building distance between us and the apothecary. Not wanting to look any more suspect than I already felt, I kept my eyes forward as I led us toward an intersecting street, trying to ignore the sensation of being watched.
Only after we had turned several corners and neared the village gate did I slow down.
“Tired at last?” Ren said, still cradling the linen package. “Now will you tell me why you look so nervous?”
“There’s a Wen soldier snooping around,” I said, voice low. “I have a feeling they’re looking for you.”
His face blanched. “Do you think it has to do with my death?”
“It’s not impossible.” I stared past the gate at the open roadbefore us. “Which is why we must hurry to our next destination. No more delays. The sooner we replenish your qi, the better.”
With Wen soldiers roaming about, it was even more vital for us to travel in the darkness of night. After walking a fair distance from Xiuxi, we returned to the forest to wait for the remaining daylight to pass. We made camp beneath a towering cathaya tree, its thick, prickly canopy shading us from the sun.
While Ren curled into his cloak and slept, I brought out my box of talismans and pulled from it a thick stack of blank yellow sheets. Then I uncorked my bottle of chicken blood, the sickly-sweet iron stench wafting out.
Ignoring the odor, I got to work dipping my brush in the blood and sweeping purification spells over each slip. I’d used more of the purification talismans than expected when facing Liu Chunhua. It’d be wise to prepare more before meeting another evil spirit.
At first I wrote slowly, carefully, hearing Baba’s guiding voice in my head as I ensured the accuracy of each stroke. Soon my hand fell into a steady rhythm, and I was able to paint the characters without thinking too much. In fact, I tried not to think at all—the activity reminded me of the times I’d prepared talismans with my father, sitting side by side in companionable silence. Hopefully he was keeping his promise to wait.
There’s no use in worrying now, Siying. Just finish the task in front of you.
After nearly an hour, I rolled back my shoulders and examined the finished talismans laid out in rows to dry. I nodded, satisfied, then turned to the peach staff lying on the ground beside me. It’d been a while since I last cleaned it.
Dampening a silk cloth with water from my gourd, I rubbedalong the bends and grooves of the staff. The surface appeared rather worn; I’d have to sand and refinish it when I returned home. At the top of the staff, just below the bells, was a single character engraved in the marbled pale-brown wood:Kang.I smiled, imagining my father’s hand hovering over the staff as he neatly carved each stroke.
“I see you’re the type who finds more joy in work than in people.”
My head snapped up. Ren lay on his side with his talisman pressed back, head propped on his fist, watching me with an amused smirk. I could imagine the palace women swooning in the face of such relaxed confidence.
Refusing to be like them, I narrowed my eyes. “When did you wake?”
“Just now, when your bells rang.”
I’d been so absorbed in my task, I hadn’t noticed the chimes.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “You should try to sleep some more. It’s still early.”
Instead of obeying, he nodded at the staff and asked, “What’s so special about that weapon?”
“It isn’t a weapon, not intentionally. Peach and iron ward off evil. The bells also guide the dead.”
“I know that.” He lifted his brows. “That isn’t what I meant. What’s so special about it toyou? I don’t think you’d ever look at a puppy with such tenderness.”
“I’m allergic to dogs,” I said.
“Again, not my question.”
I sighed, rubbing my thumb over my family name. “If you must know, this staff belonged to my father. It was his gift to me when I first became a priestess.”
“Did he craft it himself?”
“Yes.” I squeezed the shaft, the solid wood anchoring me. “My father has always preferred working with his hands. Gardening, calligraphy, woodwork—he says he finds it fulfilling.”
Ren pursed his lips, thoughtful. “Your father was a priest too, yes? How’d he have time to do all that alongside his ganshi work?”
