I fell asleep almost instantly and was soon plagued by nightmares of dying men and angry ghosts. I dreamed of walking across the bridge to the afterlife, then being shoved over the edge by invisible hands and plummeting into an eternal abyss.
Through the mist, I saw my mother’s face screaming desperately at me, but I couldn’t hear the words. I stretched out my arm, ears straining for the smallest sound.
The wind whistled past me, and in its cries, I thought I heard my own name.
Kang Siying.
I turned and recognized Liu Chunhua floating beside me. Tears streaked her dirt-stained face, bleeding into the bruises around her throat.It’s not your fault, her voice echoed.Remember that. It’s not your fault.
But can you truly forgive?hissed a new voice.
I flinched as Chunhua’s face flickered into Yuyan’s sneering one. Blood covered her lips and gaping neck, her fingernails like claws as they reached for me. I jerked away.
You made our choice, the shamaness said.What will yours be?
I don’t understand what you mean!I wanted to scream, but my lungs couldn’t find the air to breathe, let alone speak. I could only squeeze my eyes shut, wondering if I’d fall forever, trapped here with the souls of the wronged.
But then I heard my name again. No, not my name. My title as Lilan’s older sister.
“Jie!”
My eyes flew open, then immediately narrowed at the candlelight trembling above me. I peered past the flame to Lilan’s wide-eyed gaze, my mind still shaking off the remnants of my dream. Why did my sister look so terrified? Had she somehow seen my nightmare?
I pushed myself onto my elbows and found my voice. “What is it?”
“B-Baba,” Lilan said, on the verge of tears. “He’s c-collapsed again. But it’s different this time. H-He seems to be in pain, and I don’t know w-what to do—”
“What do you mean by pain?” I asked, swinging my legs over the bed, pulse jolting.
But Lilan only shook her head, biting her lip to keep from sobbing.
“Where is he?” I gripped her shoulders. “His room?”
She nodded.
“Go fetch Doctor Chen,” I ordered, already halfway out the door. The rain was still pouring steadily outside. “Now!”
As I raced to my father’s chamber, one thought ricocheted through my skull: I never should’ve fallen asleep.
CHAPTER 23
I veered into my father’s room, nearly crashing into Anshi. I didn’t pause to question why the governor’s assistant was there. Instead, I peered past her tall frame and registered Baba’s unconscious form lying on the bed, his blanket twisted around his waist. Ren was bending down to fix the sheet, tugging it up to my father’s chin.
Anshi grabbed my arm. “Where did your sister go?”
“To find the doctor.” I shook her off and surveyed the room, glimpsing open books and manuscripts scattered in an arc across the floor. Baba must’ve been reading when he fainted. Guilt wrung my stomach. Had he overworked himself to help me?
“What happened?” I demanded, crossing to Ren’s side. I stared helplessly at Baba’s pale face, marred by a grimace even in sleep. Sweat filmed his forehead, his breathing labored. Old blood stained the cracks of his lips. I reached out, hand shaking, but I was too afraid to touch him, to risk shattering him.
“I’d just bid my brother good night,” Ren said. “I was comingto find you. But then your sister appeared, begging for help. Anshi and I followed her here, where we found your father on the floor.”
Anshi nodded from the doorway. “We carried him to the bed, and your sister went to call you.”
My pulse thundered in my ears. It felt like I was back at Xinzhong River, fighting against a current intent on swallowing me whole. Unable to do anything while awaiting Lilan’s return, I poured water into the washbasin and patted my father’s face with a damp towel. I could feel Ren’s and Anshi’s concerned eyes watching my every movement, but they wisely stayed back and said nothing.
When Lilan finally arrived, trailing behind a red-eyed Doctor Chen, everyone crowded against the far wall to give the physician space. He needed only to glance at me to know I wouldn’t be sent outside. As the village doctor, he’d taken care of my father for years and knew our family well.
I clasped Lilan’s equally clammy hand as we observed the physician work. Lilan wiped her eyes with her sleeves, but I refused to break. I couldn’t. It was my duty to pick up the pieces of others’ fractured parts.
