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Distantly, Zheng Yi felt pressure on her throat. Distantly, she knew the one choking her was Zhu Jiu, who’d promised to help. Distantly, her pulse jumped like a violin bow in spiccato. All so far away. She’d been lost in fog for days, her body as muffled as everything else. Only one true thing to cling to, one pure sustained note of need—to find Tan Xiao.
Soon, she might disappear completely, but she’d found him. He was safe. Her step-father couldn’t hurt him, and Zhu Jiu had sworn to protect him. So what did it matter if Zheng Yi let the fog swallow her up?
The rough brick walls of the SID blurred around her.
Two men, united, confronted Zhu Jiu. The first, Chief Zhao, had fallen for their trick at the hospital, not realising she and Tan Xiao were following Zhu Jiu’s plan. Today, pretending to be under her trance, he’d tricked her in return. He’d only a moment ago abandoned his act and shot Zhu Jiu in the arm—making Zhu Jiu drop the Hallows, and triggering this standoff.
The other man was blue-suited Shen Wei who, beneath that disguise, was the implacable Black-Cloaked Envoy. He had taken Tan Xiao from the hospital, and frozen time at the wedding. His words had power—but a different kind of power from hers which compelled mindless obedience. When the Envoy spoke, his voice held ancient and absolute authority.
Zhu Jiu had warned that both men were deceitful and dangerous, bent on banning Dixingren from Haixing. If they caught her, they would send her Down Below, and the way he’d described that place—dark, stifling, full of brutal men—
The hand clamped around her windpipe was right. If they couldn’t escape from this predicament, it would be better to end it here.
Zhu Jiu’s information was, after all, mostly reliable. He’d predicted the Envoy would be cold and merciless and take Tan Xiao away. He’d kept them one step ahead, concocting a plan for Zheng Yi to steal those coveted artefacts. And now he’d reunited Zheng Yi and Tan Xiao like he’d promised.
But he wasn’t infallible.
He had been wrong about the Envoy deporting Tan Xiao to Dixing. Tan Xiao had been waiting for her here at the SID, safe and unharmed; she might have found him again without Zhu Jiu’s help. And Zhu Jiu’s opinion of the Envoy—
At her step-father’s laboratory, Shen Wei had told Chief Zhao, I thought I could protect Tan Xiao. Had the Envoy believed they were alone when he said that, or could it have been a lie to win Zheng Yi’s confidence? A selfish person, only concerned with ridding Haixing of Dixingren, wouldn’t care about Tan Xiao at all.
Black spots popped before her eyes. The men’s mouths moved in speech she couldn’t make out. Zhu Jiu squeezed tighter, grinding things in her throat that shouldn’t be ground, but it was all so far away. Since her mother died, Zheng Yi hadn’t belonged in this world. Her waking life had been reduced to practising that wretched violin and withstanding her step-father’s discipline. Her few moments with Tan Xiao were the only times she’d been happy.
A sudden blur of blue, a shout, a blade. A lurch that sent her stumbling. Gentle hands caught her—Tan Xiao! Zheng Yi’s airway allowed a scraping breath, then another easier one. She blinked and somehow got her bearings.
They were still in the SID. She was in Tan Xiao’s arms. They were together again. Shen Wei who was also the Envoy had—chased Zhu Jiu off? And now he was holding onto her, his grip on her arm firm but not painful. Restraining her? Preventing Zhu Jiu from whisking her away again?
Zhu Jiu had vanished through an open window.
“So fast,” observed Chief Zhao, and went to collect Zhu Jiu’s precious Hallows from where they’d fallen on the floor.
The pointy one glowed golden when Chief Zhao touched it. Sparkles wove into the air. Zheng Yi hadn’t known the artefacts could do that; they’d clunked in her pocket all day, as heavy and inert as any of her step-father’s antiques. She’d dismissed them as trinkets to bargain with.
Now, clutching them, Chief Zhao let out a pained, tooth-gritted cry and crumpled onto the SID’s hardwood floor.
“Zhao Yunlan!” The Blue-Suited Envoy rushed forward, not quite fast enough to catch him. He dropped to one knee and shook the unconscious body by the shoulder. “Zhao Yunlan, wake up. Not again!”
His unbridled urgency penetrated Zheng Yi’s fog. Hazily, she recalled him bargaining with Zhu Jiu in her step-father’s laboratory, all reason and cool challenge, flaunting the Envoy’s power. He had perfectly illustrated Zhu Jiu’s warning. Here, he was almost frantic.
Except for Tan Xiao, nobody in her life had cared for anyone like that. The contrast with Zhu Jiu squabbling with the Crow woman in their rooftop lair could not have been more stark.
Chief Zhao’s head rolled to the side, no strength in his neck.
The Blue-Suited Envoy scooped him up, carried him to the long leather couch in the centre of the room and gently laid him there. One by one, he pried Chief Zhao’s stiff fingers from the Hallows and set the objects aside on the table without looking. All his attention was for his friend. “Zhao Yunlan, can you hear me?”
When no response came, the Envoy squared his shoulders and summoned dark energy to his palm, a glinting ball flecked with blue. He poured it into Chief Zhao’s chest in a continuous stream, clearly trying to heal the man.
“Meimei.” Tan Xiao turned Zheng Yi to him and bent so they were eye to eye. “Meimei, are you all right? Did anyone hurt you?”
He didn’t understand she was numb enough that hurts couldn’t reach her. She shook her head, smiling reassurance, so glad to see him.
Relief transposed his face from minor to major. “Then,” he whispered, “let’s get out of here while no one’s looking. Come on, I’ll buy you something good to eat.”
Her stomach rumbled. Hope rose in the fog, his suggestion a shining tremolo note she could follow. She let him lead her towards the door, still standing open. Outside was daylight, freedom, food and, after that, somewhere to sleep. They would hide from the Envoy, the SID and Zhu Jiu, and keep each other safe.
In their path lay the body of the woman in the white pantsuit. Zhu Hong, a Yashou of the Snake tribe. Zhu Jiu had described all the SID workers, calling them idiots and traitors, but sprawled on the floor in her white pantsuit, Zhu Hong only looked forlorn, forgotten.
Nausea made a fist in Zheng Yi’s stomach. Tan Xiao tried to hurry her past, but she couldn’t pretend that body had nothing to do with her. She faltered.
Memories emerged like snatches of melody in the thinning fog. Zheng Yi had entranced Zhu Hong last night, and it hadn’t mattered because Yashou were useless trash, but—that was Zhu Jiu’s stance, not her own. The Yashou Cat had been kind, letting her bury her tearful face in his fur.
The woman at her feet twitched. Shoot her, Zhu Jiu ordered Chief Zhao, gleefully, and Chief Zhao, moving like a terrible mindless thing, drew and raised his gun. Fired. Compelled by Zheng Yi’s power. And the Snake woman fell.
All unaware, Tan Xiao was pulling on her arm, eager to make their escape.
Zheng Yi glanced over her shoulder.
The Blue-Suited Envoy was busy with Chief Zhao. As she watched, the Envoy hastily turned aside, a paroxysm of coughing wracking his body. When he’d finished, he returned to Chief Zhao, ashen, his chest heaving. Blood painted his lips. But he didn’t seem to care that he was hurt, immediately gathering more healing energy despite the visible strain.
Zheng Yi’s eyes stung. She wasn’t sure why—guilt, or just the sight of someone caring so much? Her tears cleared the last of the fog, leaving her trembling but awake. The office with its ordinary metal-armed chairs and messy desks came into focus. Daylight shone through frosted windows. Where before her heartstrings had been frayed and snapped, now she was a newly restrung instrument, untuned but whole.
This time, she would hold her own bow.
She planted her feet and met Tan Xiao’s eye, and he gave up towing her to the door. Gave up and followed her gaze to Zhu Hong’s limp body.
“Hei Pao Shi said she’ll wake soon,” he said.
The Envoy was reserving all his efforts for Chief Zhao.
Zheng Yi squeezed Tan Xiao’s hand. I’m sorry. I know you wanted us to run away and be free.
As always, he seemed to know her inner thoughts. Are you sure? he asked with his eyes. Then, registering her need to do this, his jaw firmed. Not arguing, not even a word, he smoothed her hair in a fond caress. “Come on, then, let’s move her somewhere more comfortable.”
He took the shoulders, she the legs, and together, they carried Zhu Hong’s limp body to the couch, which was long enough that there was space to prop her at the other end from Chief Zhao.
The Envoy was murmuring to Chief Zhao, “Yunlan, Yunlan, how many times will it take before you learn?”
Chief Zhao didn’t wake, but a muscle twitched between his eyebrows. The Envoy’s shoulders sagged in apparent relief. He brushed the hair from Chief Zhao’s forehead and adjusted his sweater.
Zheng Yi caught at a blue-checked sleeve and tugged to get the Envoy’s attention.
“Careful!” yelped Tan Xiao, pushing between them to shield her in his arms. The Envoy’s sleeve slipped from her grasp.
Tan Xiao’s hold was warm and firm. Even here and now, he made her feel safe. But her senses were clouding again. She smiled up at his dear, worried face and pushed him away—just a little. Just enough to free herself.
To decide for herself.
Blood crusted the corner of the Envoy’s mouth. His hand was splayed on Chief Zhao’s chest like a lifeline—or a caress. He regarded Zheng Yi, his gaze clear and stern. Or—was that stern? Or was he only worn out and worried for his friend? She didn’t know him well enough to be sure.
Zhu Jiu’s furious rants played in her head, but however corrupt the Envoy was, he was capable. Zheng Yi looked at Zhu Hong’s motionless form and then, beseechingly, back to the Blue-Suited Envoy.
In answer, he rose to his feet.
Zheng Yi stepped back instinctively, fear like a bow sliced carelessly across violin strings. When the Envoy had executed his duty at the hospital, he hadn’t stopped to negotiate.
Would he take her, this time—or Tan Xiao in her place, again? Would it be to Dixing for real, that terrible underworld from which, without Zhu Jiu, neither of them could return? Stupid not to sneak away with Tan Xiao when they’d had their chance just now. Even if the Envoy would have found them sooner or later, they could have had a little more time.
But the Envoy didn’t immediately condemn her. He twisted his fingers, and Tan Xiao froze in place. Chief Zhao stopped breathing. The world was a silenced metronome—no hum of air conditioning or sounds from outside. She could hear her own clothing rustle, the rhythmic whoosh of her blood. She’d felt this absolute stillness before: a wedding, everyone fixed in a chaotic, violent tableau; Zhu Jiu using her to taunt the Blue-Suited Envoy. Now she and the Envoy faced each other in another bubble out of time, just the two of them. She held very still.
Right there between the battered orange couch and the table, he spread his arms wide. Her hair tickled her neck as billowing black energy replaced his suit with those shadowy robes perfumed with incense and power.
The transformation took mere seconds and left him almost unrecognisable as Shen Wei. A silver-chased mask hid the Envoy’s upper face. But he was still pale, his mouth still bloody.
Zheng Yi quavered. On her left were the conscious and unconscious casualties of her desperate search; on her right stood the object of it, Tan Xiao. She’d been too desperate to consider anything or anyone else while she’d been parted from him, but that was no excuse. Something inside her cracked, and guilt poured out.
In this private space shared with only the Envoy, it felt safe to speak. She gulped back tears and opened her mouth. Whatever kind of person the Envoy was, she had to say it. “I’m sorry.”
Her voice came out too strong, but its compelling power sank into his robes, harmlessly absorbed.
“It’s not me to whom the apology is owed,” he replied.
Zheng Yi took a deep breath. He was right.
Chief Zhao’s face was slack. Even in sleep he was a complicated figure. The Envoy clearly cherished him, but did Chief Zhao deserve his care? Chief Zhao was nothing like furious, violent Zhu Jiu. He’d given her a lollipop at the hospital and left Da Qing to comfort her. But that could have been an act. What if he was like her step-father, joking with strangers while secretly hurting those he was supposed to love?
“He shot you,” she reminded the Envoy. “And he shot Zhu Hong.”
A ghost of a smile touched those ashen lips. “He didn’t hurt me, and he didn’t want to hurt Zhu Hong either. You can trust him.”
He sounded so sure. People only saw what they wanted to in life, but if anyone could discern the truth, it had to be this ancient powerful man. She swallowed and remembered aloud: “In my step-father’s laboratory, when I—I helped Zhu Jiu use Chief Zhao, you tried to take his place.”
“Yes.” The Envoy’s manner conveyed neither reproach nor regret. His expression, as much as she could make it out, reminded her of what had happened at the hospital.
Tan Xiao letting the Envoy take him away, eyes bright, joyful that he could protect her like this.
“Are you his Tan Xiao?” she asked, struck by the likeness.
The Envoy’s lips twitched, and her stomach dropped as if she’d mis-bowed a musical phrase. She’d been presumptuous.
He didn’t get angry, but nor did he speak. She backtracked a few bars and tried again. “Will he be all right?”
The Envoy’s gaze dwelt on Chief Zhao for a long moment. “The Hallows’ corruption compounded the damage from before, when he touched them recently, and from his exposure to—to Zhu Jiu’s teleportation power.” And her own power. He didn’t say it, but he didn’t need to. “I have done everything I can to reverse the effects. He’s sleeping now.”
She got the feeling the Envoy was reassuring himself as well as her. She stayed quiet, not wanting to remind him how close Chief Zhao had come to disaster—as if there was any chance he could forget.
He roused himself. “Zheng Yi, what happened was not entirely your fault. Nonetheless, you allowed your power to be used for ill. People were harmed because of it.”
He was right. The excuses that sprang to her lips didn’t change the fact that she’d helped Zhu Jiu cause trouble. Trembling, trying to hold her future as lightly as a violin bow, she waited for his judgement.
“You must take responsibility for your part.”
The words hit like thunder from the Heavens, confirming her wrongdoing. But the terror only lasted a second; on its heels came a surprising shiver of relief. Of all the horrors of the last few days, the worst had been Tan Xiao letting the Envoy accuse him in her stead and spirit him away. It didn’t matter that Zhu Jiu had concocted the strategy, or that he’d promised to retrieve Tan Xiao from Dixing. It had felt final, leaving her lost in a haze of misery. She would never let Tan Xiao or anyone else suffer in her place again. Better to face her punishment head on.
“Will you make sure Tan Xiao is all right?” It was too much to ask, given her crimes, but she had to. If he was safe, she could face anything.
The Envoy studied her. “I will.”
His words were weighty with promise. She bowed deeply. When she rose, his mouth had softened. Without ceremony, he restarted time.
The radiator gurgled, and distant traffic hummed. “Hei Pao Shi daren!” Tan Xiao exclaimed, startled by the mask and robes. He drew Zheng Yi back into the shelter of his embrace.
Zhu Hong twitched but didn’t wake. Zheng Yi looked hopefully at the Envoy—wouldn’t he help Zhu Hong the way he’d helped Chief Zhao?
And he did, bending over her and treating her with healing energy, but only for a moment. He soon stood back. “Her energy wound is not serious.”
As if on cue, the Snake woman’s eyes fluttered open. “What happened?”
Even if Zheng Yi had been able to speak to other people, there was no chance to answer. Voices and clomping footsteps filled the air as four people cavalcaded through the open front door, jostling and cheerfully rude amongst themselves. One of them was Da Qing, the cat boy who had unwittingly helped Zheng Yi steal the artefacts.
She stood stock still, afraid the newcomers would hate her. This was the second time she’d broken into the SID. Tan Xiao’s presence was a comfort, a touchstone, now, not making her foggy at all. He was the one person she knew would always champion her.
Chu Shuzhi, the grumpy-faced black-clad man who’d fought Zhu Hong in the park, stopped when he saw the tableau by the couch. “Zhu Hong, you found the girl.”
There was a question in his voice. And he didn’t react to the Envoy. None of them did. If Zheng Yi looked carefully, she could still see the outline of hood and robes, but the Envoy was obscuring himself somehow.
“Of course no one told us Zheng Yi was here,” whined a tall man with glasses and a put-upon air, who Zhu Jiu had called the SID’s useless human scientist, Lin Jing. “We’ve been running all over town searching for her and—”
“Why is Lao-Zhao unconscious again?” interrupted Da Qing, dashing forward to hang over the back of the couch, his face wreathed in concern. “What happened?”
“He touched the Hallows and collapsed,” said Tan Xiao, absolving Zheng Yi, as if this wasn’t all her doing.
“Again?” Da Qing slid down until he was almost on top of Chief Zhao and miaowed in his ear but got no response.
“We’ve got the Hallows back?” Lin Jing scooped them off the table. They didn’t emit so much as a spark. “I’ll go put them in their cases.”
Steadying herself on the table, Zhu Hong stood and surveyed the team. “Xiao-Guo, I thought you went home.”
“I was going home,” said the fresh-faced youth, “but I ran into Chu-ge in the street, and we came back. Hong-jie, you’re very pale. Are you all right?”
Zhu Hong put her hand to her neck. “No. Lao-Zhao shot me.”
“What?” Everyone stopped bustling and stared at her. Lin Jing, halfway to the SID lab, turned and came back. She showed them the bullet wound.
Chu Shuzhi was the first to speak. He rolled his eyes. “Making a fuss over nothing. It’s just a graze. Xiao-Guo gets worse than that at training practice most days.”
“Chief Zhao must have been hypnotised. Hong-jie, I’ll make you some tea,” offered Guo Changcheng.
“Did the bullet compromise your dark energy field?” Lin Jing brightened. “Can I take readings? I don’t have enough Yashou-specific data.”
Zhu Hong scowled. “Forget it.”
They were speaking over each other, but not out of disregard or competition. Rather, they seemed comfortable together, all wanting to share their thoughts. Even grumpy-faced Chu Shuzhi wasn’t unkind—Zheng Yi was sure he’d downplayed the injury to cheer Zhu Hong up, though it had annoyed the Snake woman instead.
When not plying her step-father with flattery, his lab workers had sniped behind his back. But here, even though the situation was serious, these people were informal and easy. Zheng Yi had never imagined such a group. Were there others like this? If only Tan Xiao could find a workplace where they would treat him well.
He wouldn’t have anyone else, when she was gone.
“Hei Pao Shi daren,” said Chu Shuzhi, suddenly. “You’re here?”
And just like that, everyone’s spines straightened as they realised the Black-Cloaked Envoy was among them. Da Qing slid off the couch and found his feet.
“Hei Pao daren, you have something—” The Cat Yashou pointed to his own lips. “Is that blood?” The Envoy wiped his mouth, and Da Qing averted his gaze and asked Zhu Hong again, speaking politely in front of the Envoy, “What happened here, Zhu Hong?”
“Zhu Jiu invaded the SID,” she announced.
“Zhu Jiu!” There was an appalled if subdued outcry. “How did he get in?” “Where is he?” “Did you catch him?”
“He came with Zheng Yi,” she said, not looking in Zheng Yi’s direction. “They hypnotised lao-Zhao and used him to get through the security shield. Zhu Jiu told lao-Zhao to shoot me, and he—”
“Lao-Zhao shouldn’t have been hypnotised,” interrupted Lin Jing. “Didn’t the earplugs work?”
“Let me finish!” snapped Zhu Hong, too worked up to mind her manners even with the Black-Cloaked Envoy right there. Everyone waited, hanging on her tale, but there wasn’t much more she could say. “He shot me, and I fell unconscious,” she finished, peevishly.
After a moment, all eyes turned to the Envoy.
“Daren?” asked Chu Shuzhi.
“Chief Zhao reunited Zheng Yi and Tan Xiao, turned his gun on Zhu Jiu, and took back the Hallows,” the Envoy informed them with a hint of pride.
“Chief Zhao really is a hero,” breathed Xiao-Guo.
Chu Shuzhi scoffed, and Zhu Hong huffed under her breath, her Why did your damn hero have to shoot me? loud but unspoken.
“Zhu Jiu was injured, but he escaped through the window,” finished the Envoy.
Da Qing considered this. “Hei Pao Shi daren, why is lao-Zhao still unconscious? Will he be all right?”
“The Hallows corrupted his energy system once again,” said the Envoy, “and there were other adverse factors. I have mitigated the damage as far as I am able. He’s sleeping and should regain consciousness soon.”
Zheng Yi tingled all over. Soon. And then the Envoy would take her away. In theory, he could take her now, leaving the others to watch over their chief, but he clearly intended to stay by Chief Zhao’s side until he woke. In the meantime, she should treasure Tan Xiao’s arms around her and fix each moment in her memory.
She had no idea what awaited her in Dixing. She wanted to believe Zhu Jiu had lied, and the Envoy wouldn’t let her be hurt. But she was the worst of criminals—a murderer and a thief. Whatever sentence she received, she would deserve it.
Even if she were set free in Dixing, the exile itself her punishment—even if it were a place of improbable beauty, its people welcoming and kind—even then, her future would be hollow, separated from the one person who made life special. She gritted her teeth and focused on the warmth of his hands on her shoulders.
Lin Jing went to secure the Hallows in their cases. The others made a few more remarks. But everyone was watching Chief Zhao—who began to twitch and mutter.
“What’s he saying?” asked Chu Shuzhi from the far side of the table.
Lin Jing, back from the lab already, bent to hear. Which was when Chief Zhao sat bolt upright with a gasped shout.
Lin Jing recoiled in surprise, Da Qing snickered, and a subtle tension went out of the room, everyone releasing a breath. Their leader had woken. And after a few moments’ confusion, he seemed fully recovered, sharing a secret grin with the Envoy. Zheng Yi was glad he was better, as much for the Envoy’s sake as everyone else’s; the Envoy was distant and unyielding, as solitary as she herself would soon be. She wouldn’t want to hurt his best friend any more than she’d want him to hurt Tan Xiao. She was glad Chief Zhao was awake and well.
Even if it meant her time had run out.
The Envoy stood stiffly, setting himself apart from the SID people. He didn’t return Chief Zhao’s smile. “The case can be closed now. Zheng Yi committed crimes. I will take her to Dixing for judgment.”
Tan Xiao clung as if he’d never let her go. It wasn’t fair; her absence would hurt him too, and none of this was his fault.
Soft-hearted Xiao-Guo spoke up for her with obvious pity, although Chu Shuzhi silenced him out of respect for the Envoy. Incredibly, none of the SID’s people seemed to blame or resent her. None demanded her punishment. Even Chief Zhao wanted to petition on her behalf, she could tell, but in the end he deferred to the Envoy, letting him exercise his authority unimpeded.
Tan Xiao’s arms tensed around her, his muscles bunching. He knew what her punishment must be, and he—oh, he was going to try to save her. To offer himself in her place once more.
No! She wouldn’t be left behind again! Fog wisped in, that helpless passivity creeping over her, echoes of her desperate fear for Tan Xiao’s safety. So when the Black-Cloaked Envoy silently held out his hand—half order, half invitation—
She took it.
Tan Xiao’s shock was palpable, but he didn’t speak, and she was grateful for that. If they’d spent their last moments together protesting the inevitable, it would have been too tragic. She wanted to remember their shining stolen afternoon in her step-father’s house. And she didn’t want him to worry. So, though her heart was trembling, she kept her face calm. She was so busy faking being okay that she almost didn’t notice the Envoy’s fingers weren’t as cool and impersonal as his manner.
His hand closed on hers. A powerful hand. Because he was like her—Dixingren, cursed with dark energy. Eloquent in his silence.
His energy surged around her, a palpable field that shoved Tan Xiao away, affirming and completing her choice. He staggered back, reaching for her with his gaze. She was so glad to have known him. Wherever she went next, however severely she was treated, thanks to him she could cocoon herself in good memories.
They had always understood each other, and he understood now. His eyes shone with tears.
But he would find someone else to give his heart to one day. She smiled to say that he was free, and then she took the Envoy’s other hand.
The Envoy gave a small, ambiguous nod, and a portal of nothingness swallowed them up, taking her into the unknown.
*
They emerged on a lawn by a stand of trees. The sun was setting, the evening warm. A path curved past and disappeared beyond a distant line of shrubs, as if to emphasise the solitary nature of the place. Could this be Dixing?
The Envoy had promised Tan Xiao would be okay; in exchange, she would do whatever he commanded. But with the mask, his expression was hard to read. Perhaps he was going to punish her here—choke her with dark energy, or use her own power against her and make her kill herself. Perhaps what the Envoy called Dixing wasn’t a place at all, but a death sentence. Chief Zhao would never know. Perhaps the Envoy was the one who was like her step-father, appearing respectable and righteous in public, while venting his displeasure in the shadows.
She dug her fingernails into her palms, using the pain to keep herself brave. Nonsensically convinced that if she cried, if she let herself be scared, Tan Xiao would know.
The Envoy raised his hand, but he didn’t summon the blade Zhu Jiu had spoken of. He didn’t move to punish her at all. Instead—instead he pressed his palm over his heart, his face ghostly pale in the dying light. Oh, of course. He had overextended himself to heal Chief Zhao, even coughing blood. On top of everything that had come before, he must be drained to exhaustion, and that was why he was so ominously silent. Hadn’t Zhu Jiu taunted him at her step-father’s laboratory about the limits of his power?
The Envoy’s breathing rasped audibly, but he clearly had no intention of resting. His other hand came up, wreathed in dark energy, and materialised a blank sheet of paper in midair. A single column of characters bloomed in its centre: Meet at the same place in the park. He flicked his fingers, and the paper vanished.
Apprehension twined around her throat, choking out a question. “What happens now?”
“Now we wait.” His head dipped, his hood shadowing his eyes, and he added, gently, “Zheng Yi, you have suffered for too long.” Even those few words seemed to weary him, but he continued, “I was acquainted with your step-father. I regret that I didn’t know of you or your situation. If I had, I— Well, you may be easy now. Soon—” He broke off with a slight cough that rippled his robes.
There was a rounded boulder under a nearby tree. Daringly, she took his arm and led him there so he could sit. He did, his lips pressed together. And then he went still, almost frozen like the world had been.
She perched beside him. Eventually a car or some other kind of transport would come. What kinds of vehicles could travel to Dixing? Well, whoever came to fetch her, whoever the Envoy was going to hand her over to—if the Envoy needed help, they would know what to do.
What kind of person would her escort be? Surely someone who handled prisoners would be strict. But then, they could be the sweetest person alive, and they wouldn’t be Tan Xiao. Sadness squeezed her heart. If she could go back, go back and take a different path—spare her step-father’s life, never meet Zhu Jiu—how differently would things have turned out? Would she and Tan Xiao have been able to keep seeing each other somehow? She didn’t really regret what she’d done to her step-father—he’d been vicious to her mama, and a constant looming torment in her own existence. Most had found him charming and clever, but really he’d been a monster.
Only Tan Xiao had seen it—and that was why her step-father had ordered his workers to beat Tan Xiao and throw him out of the building. Unforgivable. Righteous outrage had made Zheng Yi cruel in turn.
Now, she was just tired. She couldn’t remember when she’d last eaten, but she stayed quietly on the boulder next to the Envoy, her hands folded in her lap. Slowly, his stillness filtered into the space around them. The rock, the trees, the air itself seemed to exude serenity. Her breathing steadied. Bit by bit, her shoulders relaxed. Her thoughts stopped jumping around.
Tan Xiao had done everything he could to protect her. If she hadn’t taken responsibility, back at the SID, he would have tried again. She would always love him for caring so much—and that was a discovery, fresh and bittersweet. You didn’t have to see someone every day to love them. Maybe you didn’t have to see them ever again. Their existence could still make the world special.
The last traces of daylight died away. There were no clouds, not a hint of fog. Tiny multitudinous stars glimmered in the soft velvety sky.
“It’s beautiful,” said Zheng Yi, softly, surprised. Cloistered in her step-father’s house, she’d missed out on a lot. Never could have predicted she would share such a wondrous sight with a legend like the Dixing Envoy. She half expected him to scoff like Zhu Jiu.
But he shifted slightly, as if waking, and turned his face up. His mouth softened in the starlight, giving him a youthful air.
“Yes,” he said, half to himself. “It has changed, but it has always been beautiful.” From the way he spoke, he was talking about more than constellations.
Beauty persisted. Love could endure. There was hope.
Finally, hurried footsteps came into earshot, her escort racing to do the Envoy’s bidding.
The Envoy rose to his feet, and Zheng Yi copied him, her apprehension returning, a belly full of demisemiquavers.
Until, running full tilt around a bend in the path, came Tan Xiao.
Zheng Yi’s heart cried out. She flung herself into his arms, not caring that his clothes were stuck to his sweaty skin, nor that his heart hammered from exertion. He wrapped her in a bear hug, the Envoy’s message crinkling against her shoulder.
For a few blissful moments, she sank into his embrace, and he rocked her side to side. Then, abruptly, she remembered where they were, who they were with, and she struggled to be free. She shoved Tan Xiao towards the safety of deeper shadows and turned to glare at the Envoy. Had the two men arranged this between them without telling her?
You can’t take him in my place. You promised! It has to be me.
The corner of the Envoy’s mouth quirked. He stepped up to her and said, “I promised you I would make sure Tan Xiao was all right. Did you think he could be all right without you?”
“What?” she blurted, too confused to stay mute, then clapped her hand over her mouth. Thankfully, Tan Xiao wasn’t affected by that single syllable.
“Tan Xiao.” The Envoy took something small from his sleeve and dropped it into Tan Xiao’s palm without touching him. Two small somethings. The earplugs Chief Zhao had been wearing to filter out her power. “With these, Zheng Yi can speak freely when you are alone together. Guard them well, but if they are lost, I will procure more for you.”
Tan Xiao stammered his thanks and crammed the earplugs into his ears. “Zheng Yi?”
“Tan Xiao,” she said. “I thought I’d never see you again.”
A huge grin spread across his face. “Your voice is so pretty.”
This must be a dream. She shook her head and turned to the Envoy. “Hei Pao Shi daren, why is Tan Xiao here? Please don’t take him instead of me again.”
The Envoy’s eyes were clear and patient behind the mask. He didn’t seem hurt now; sitting quietly under the stars had done him good. “Zheng Yi, I sentence you to live peacefully together in Haixing or Dixing, whichever you choose, and never to use your power against anyone again.”
A new life? This wasn’t punishment at all—more like forgiveness and absolution. Was it what she deserved? No matter. It was her sentence, and she would follow it one hundred percent. “I swear, daren.”
He held out two small dusty cones. “If ever you are in need, light one of these and I will come.”
She bowed and tucked the delicate things into her skirt pocket where, before, the stolen Hallows had jostled heavily.
With the stars dancing overhead, Tan Xiao picked her up and spun around, both of them incredulous, laughing. Together forever. And when her feet finally touched the ground again, and hand in hand, they stood once more before the Envoy, the Envoy was smiling too.
“Thank you, daren,” said Tan Xiao. “Thank you. With your permission, we’ll stay in Haixing.”
Zheng Yi took his hand in agreement.
“Very well.” Without the Envoy seeming to do anything, his robes poured away like heavy smoke, leaving him in the tailored blue suit, though no less the Envoy. “Your names will undoubtedly appear in the SID’s case reports, which are submitted to the Haixing Inspectorate, but like the SID itself, those reports are confidential. Only a few officials have access. Nonetheless, it may be difficult for Zheng Yi to inherit from Zheng Zhongyuan’s estate. Do you have other means of support?”
Was the Black-Cloaked Envoy offering financial aid, despite everything she’d done? She never found out, because—
“Yes,” replied Tan Xiao, unexpectedly. “My senior from university works at a lab specialising in acoustics. He’s tried to scout me a few times, but—” He shot Zheng Yi a fond look. “—I couldn’t leave Zheng Sonics.”
“Then you also have somewhere to stay?”
“My apartment is big enough for two.”
“Good.” The Envoy appeared satisfied. Zheng Yi assumed that would be the end of it—that the Envoy was only ensuring they wouldn’t be a nuisance to anyone. But his gaze found her. “Have you been attending school?”
Shame lodged in her throat. School was for normal children. She had barely been allowed to leave the house, or do anything except practice music.
The Envoy accepted her silence without criticism. “It may require special arrangements. I’ll attend to it. In the meantime, I will appoint you a tutor and provide them with more of those ear plugs.” He must have seen something in her response, because he added, “No one will hurt you, child. If you are unhappy or in danger, you must tell me and Tan Xiao at once. Zheng Yi, I hope you will study hard. With your strength and resilience, I have high hopes for you.”
Gratitude swelled inside her, nothing like the desperate relief at being reunited with Tan Xiao. This was more than being a problem to solve—it was being a person, with potential and a future. The possibility of knowledge, of learning thrilled in her heart. “I will, daren.”
He hesitated, then asked, delicately, “Do you wish to continue studying the violin?”
A shudder seized her, prompting Tan Xiao to put his arms around her. “Hei Pao Shi, she—”
Zheng Yi covered his hand to interrupt. Longing and revulsion were surging through her in competing waves of nausea. After years of practice, her violin was practically a part of her. She could play well. But the whole experience was tainted by her step-father, the beauty corrupted. Could she bear to touch it again? Was that what she wanted?
The Envoy was a cipher, leaving the decision up to her.
If she refused, she might regret it forever. If she said yes, every time she played, she would remember— Panic numbed her fingertips.
“I don’t know,” she said, honestly, then snapped her mouth closed. It was still strange to use her voice like this, without affecting people.
The Envoy gave a slight nod—accepting or approving, she couldn’t tell. “The opportunity is there. If you ever wish to pursue that path, I can arrange a music tutor.” He hesitated. “Painful experiences can rob you of the things most precious to you. But those things—the things you love—are worth fighting for, even when it’s hard.” He made an open-handed gesture. “There’s plenty of time. How about I ask you again in a year?”
“Six months,” she countered, surprising herself, then gasped.
“Very well. Then everything is settled. I will leave you with two requests.”
Zheng Yi stood straighter and felt Tan Xiao do the same. Requests from the Envoy! What could they possibly do for him?
“Firstly, be good to each other. Treat each other well, and do your best to be good citizens. And secondly—” He took a deep breath. “—a personal favour. Chief Zhao will be going home from the SID soon. When he does, I would like you to let him see you.”
Zheng Yi met his gaze. Outwardly, he was as calm and authoritative as ever, but she had learned to observe people closely and gauge their moods. Beneath the surface, the Envoy was a raised bow in the moment before it touched violin strings.
He wanted to show Chief Zhao what he’d done. When he’d allowed Zheng Yi to stay in Haixing, it hadn’t only been a judgement upon her; he had also been preparing a gift for Chief Zhao, who’d wanted to petition on her behalf but, in the end, had stood back and let the Envoy decide.
A personal favour.
Over the last hours, the Envoy had come to seem merciful, but otherworldly and closed-off, too. He’d exerted himself to heal the unconscious Chief Zhao, at great personal cost, but from waking people, he held himself at a distance. Now, though, Zheng Yi felt with a thrill of understanding—of fellow-feeling—that she could see his heart. She liked what she saw. Perhaps—was it possible they could be friends?
“Yes,” she said, glad and glad again to be able to collaborate on his gift.
Sensitive to her mood as ever, Tan Xiao took her hand. He’d always been perceptive—maybe he’d figured the rest out, too. “Of course,” he chimed in. “Hei Pao daren, which route will Chief Zhao take? Where would be best to wait?”
END