It happened too fast; he barely had time to react, never mind trying to put up any sort of defense or counter. A sharp cry escaped him as lancing hot pain shot through his body, paralyzing his attempt to move.
Get up, dammit! He’s coming! The thought flashed through his mind as fear overwhelmed him. That attack from Hwei had held nothing back. A chill ran up his spine, though it had nothing to do with the snow he lay sprawled in. I could have died! The thought echoed again, rattling him. I have to get up now, have to be ready—he’s coming!
As he forced his bleary eyes open, the world spun around him. He blinked, feeling a warm trail of tears on his cheek. I so hope Mei doesn’t see me cry, he thought, even as the dizziness persisted.
Suddenly, a burst of qi radiated from nearby. It wasn’t the searing heat that had marked Hwei’s assault—no, this was colder, somehow deeper. He blinked again, catching a flicker of movement in the corner of his vision. Are they fighting? It could be. But trying to focus was impossible; the harder he tried, the more the world swirled, as though he’d become one of the drunken sailors from his mother’s tales of the great gulf—those reckless enough to face the white waters. Is their world always spinning like this?
A wave of nausea rose, and before he knew it, he was vomiting whatever was left of his lunch. The acrid smell hit him first, triggering a fresh urge to retch, but he clenched his teeth, forcing it down. His gaze darted back to where the supposed fight was unfolding, but all he could make out were blurry shapes.
He squinted, his heart stuttering as one of the shadows grew closer. Crap, crap, he’s coming! he cursed inwardly. Had Hwei already defeated Mei? Was he coming to finish the job? Thinking back to the arrogant young master’s sneer, he knew the answer. Yeah, he would kill me.
He tried to stand but collapsed again, his stomach churning with the sudden motion, as hot pain flared through his limbs. But he ignored it. If Hwei had lost himself to rage, he wouldn’t be seeing his birthday tonight.
His gaze whipped back to Hwei’s approaching form, only to find the shadowy figure already towering over him. Instinctively, he lifted his arms, bracing for impact, yet no strike landed. Puzzled, he cracked an eye open; the world remained a storm of shifting shapes. Squinting up at the blurred silhouette above, he steeled himself for the blow—and… nothing. Instead of pain, he felt only a warm hand resting on his arm—a small hand.
“Mei?” he croaked, his throat still raw from retching moments earlier. A scoff cut through the haze. “Of course you’d think it was her...” A woman’s voice trailed off, muffled like his vision. Maybe it was the concussion, or perhaps just snow clogging his ear. “Mei?” he asked again, managing a bit more strength, though his voice still wavered.
"Rin, can you hear me?" The woman's voice echoed around him, sounding strange and distant, like voices bouncing off the walls of a cave, some parts clear, others faint.
"Get the mistress; I think he has a concussion," she instructed urgently.
"Oh, please, he’s only scuffed. I’m sure he’ll be up in no time," a young man retorted nervously. That’s definitely one of the house guards, Rin thought, though his voice was unfamiliar.
"Are you joking? Look at him—he can barely see straight!" she countered, her voice suddenly louder. Rin winced at the volume, but that was the least of his worries. A strong hand suddenly clamped onto his right arm, yanking him to his feet. White-hot pain shot through his body, and he let out a soft yelp.
"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!" the woman shrieked. Her voice now clear, and in a flash, Rin recognized it as his tutor’s. "Let go of him! You don’t know how hurt he is—he could be badly injured!"
As if answering her warning, his stomach chose that moment to betray him, and he vomited the last of his lunch onto the still-blurred man in front of him. From his furious cries, Rin gathered that his stomach contents had struck dead-on. Well, he thought, I’ll soon know who he is. News like that always spread fast.
The man cried out, letting Rin go, and Rin dropped into the snow for what felt like the umpteenth time that day.
"Young Master, are you alright?" his tutor asked, helping him into a half-sitting position. Truth be told, Rin wasn’t sure how he was upright. He gave her a vague grunt.
"You—what are you waiting for? Go fetch the mistress!"
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"Ugh, what did he eat? This reeks…" the man muttered. "And I’m on late shift tonight, so I can’t even change…"
"Are you listening?!" the tutor barked. But before he could respond, Rin heard the crunch of snow behind them.
"Where is he?" A voice, so beautiful it seemed ethereal, rang out. His tutor and the guard froze, and even in his dizziness, Rin knew exactly who that voice belonged to.
"Mom?" he murmured, attempting to focus his vision.
"Hush now," she soothed, placing a warm hand on his cheek. A soft tingling sensation spread from her touch. She frowned as if disappointed by what she found.
"Quite the way to start your birthday, don’t you think?" she teased, a hint of mirth in her voice.
"Not really what I planned," he chuckled, though the effort sent pain slicing through his head.
As if sensing his discomfort, she murmured, "We’ll continue later, but for now, we need to get you treated." He groaned, wanting to argue.
"Not a word, Rin. We can’t have you presented half-dead to everyone."
"You," she called, turning to the guard.
"Me?" the guard answered, nervousness apparent.
"Yes, you. Find Master Ming—I need his help, but"—she sniffed—"perhaps clean yourself first. The elder won’t be pleased if you track filth into his halls."
"Yes, ma’am," the guard said crisply, saluting and snapping his robes as he hurried away. The crunch of his boots on snow quickened with his departure.
Rin tried to protest. "But Mom, the party—" but was interrupted as a wave of warmth washed over him, dulling his headache. His vision began to clear, and he blinked to see his mother’s face in focus.
She was strikingly beautiful, her sterling silver eyes accentuated by her sharp features, her raven-black hair swept up in a neat bun, fastened with a silver butterfly pin.
"Feel better?" she asked softly.
"Yeah, thanks, Mom."
"It’s ‘yes,’" she corrected, raising her brow. "And my pleasure, though it’ll only last a few minutes. My qi control isn’t what it used to be."
"Where’s Mei Mei?" he asked, almost hesitant.
"Safe inside, most likely with Mrs. Qin."
He exhaled, relieved. He’d feared Mei might have jumped to defend him from Hwei. Thinking of the arrogant young master, he didn’t look forward to tonight. Rin braced himself with a deep breath, feeling his ribs creak under the pressure. That’s going to hurt later, he thought, then asked aloud—
"And what about the young master and the Chu brothers?"
Her scowl was immediate. "They’ve been escorted out," she replied coldly. Rin shivered; he’d only heard her speak in that tone when she was extra annoyed. He gulped.
"They… they won’t come tonight, right?"
"No, they’re no longer invited. I’ve sent word to Mei’s grandfather as well."
That was a relief. Rin wasn’t eager for another confrontation tonight, not with everyone watching. He didn’t want to embarrass his mother.
The snow crunched again, and he turned as a guard approached—undoubtedly the one he’d just vomited on, judging by the mismatched robes. Did he raid a laundry line?
"Ah, Elder Ming, thank you for coming so quickly," his mother said, bowing respectfully.
"No trouble; I’d just finished preparing for tonight," replied the elder, his attention now on Rin. "Couldn’t stay away, could you, Young Rin? Wasn’t it just the other day I saw you here?" The elder’s frown softened, his warm smile breaking through.
Both Rin and his mother flinched at that reminder. Rin had become a regular visitor to the medicinal hall, the elder’s tests trying to uncover the reason for his lingering condition. The elder sometimes muttered it was futile, but Rin appreciated that he never showed it.
"Now, let me take a look," the elder murmured, moving faster than Rin could follow as he placed a hand on Rin’s forehead and another below his navel. Still sprawled in the snow from earlier, Rin lay still, and after a few moments, a stronger, more intense tingling spread through him than his mother’s qi could provide.
"Concussion? Mmm, no—more like a severe concussion. Three ribs broken… mmm, four fractured… and some internal organ damage," the elder continued listing, each injury piling up. Well, that’s what you get when you fight someone many tiers above your own level.
"Now, my boy, this isn’t going to be pleasant," the elder warned, jarring me from my thoughts. I nodded. Healing qi was generally only used on cultivators since it didn’t heal instantly; it sped up the body’s natural recovery. Qi infused every part of our world—even mortals had a bit inside them—but the challenge lay in regaining the qi expended in healing. For a cultivator, it’s just about cultivating more qi, but for a mortal like me, it meant either bed rest for a week or handling a lot of pain. Knowing my mom, she wouldn’t let me skip out on the party—not that I wanted to.
"Yeah, I mean yes, Elder," I corrected myself. Mom gave me a small, approving smile.
"And how long will he need to be presentable tonight?" my mom asked. The elder frowned in thought.
"Maybe two or three hours, but he’ll be quite uncomfortable when he wakes," he replied. That was putting it mildly. The few times I’d been healed by the medicinal hall, I was laid up for days as my body ached. And that was just for a broken arm—I didn’t want to imagine what this would feel like.
"Perfect," my mom said, smiling warmly as she reached out to press a finger to my forehead. "Let’s get you patched up." Her qi started flowing into my forehead, and my eyelids grew heavy until darkness gently took over. Peaceful silence filled the moments that followed until a quiet voice broke it.
"Do you think he’ll be alright?" she asked.
"I believe, with the Young Master's resources, Young Rin will be just fine—maybe even a little terrifying. The boy has quite a drive," the elder replied, smiling. My mother smiled back, though her expression softened with a sigh.