Xin screamed at the top of his lungs, his usual reservations forgotten. He was flying. Each hop of the Jade rabbit shot adrenaline through his veins. Xin was at the head of the group now, moving so fast that the forest around him was a blur of motion. YiHua pulled up next to him, her grin mirroring his own. They rode on side-by-side uncaring of the encroaching darkness.

This had to be Shang’s best idea yet. They rode deep into the forest, unsure of how much time had passed. As they neared a small clearing, a sudden chill descended on the riders and the rabbits slowed their pace. The moonlight beamed through the clearing, casting a halo of silver light on the underbrush.

Xin wrapped his outer robes tight around his body. The air was unexpectedly brittle for the beginning of fall. It didn’t help that his body was covered in a faint layer of sweat afterthe exhilarating ride. He rubbed at his limbs trying to push heat into them. He looked over at YiHua. She looked as cold as he felt. Both of their rabbits had also come to a standstill. Their hot heavy breaths created monstrous plumes of white in the chilled air. Xin spun on his seat looking for Shang. The forest was completely dark now. Slivers of moonlight peeked through the canopy overhead. He turned almost completely around but couldn’t see the younger boy.

“Have you seen Shang?” YiHua asked, voicing his concerns.

“Yeah, he was right beside me when we started,” Xin provided. He hadn’t seen Shang since the beginning of the ride. A pit of worry began forming in his stomach. He recognized these woods; they were maybe an hour or two away from the village. He was confident that his friend would know these woods as well. Even if Shang had fallen off his mount, he would be able to make his way back home. Xin looked around the dark forest again worriedly. There were very few large animals in these forests, but to an untrained boy like Shang, even a small predator could pose a danger.

“Let’s go look for him,” Xin said.

Everyone quickly dismounted. It would be easier on foot than trying to wrangle their mounts. They oriented themselves and began retracing their journey. The paths left by the rabbits were not subtle. It was easy to find their way back.

“He’s going to eat his words when we find him,” YiHua said. “He was so confident, saying how he was going to ride the rabbit to the moon.” Her voice was tense and thin despite her attempt at levity. Xin could tell YiHua was worried as well. YiHua was one year older than Shang, but she already towered above him. She had grown significantly in the past year and now joined in the teasing of his diminutive size. He was the smallest and youngest of the group, and he had no training--not even a knife to protect himself, and now he was lost in the forest at night. Xin’s mind swam with possible disastrous fates. Maybe the rabbit had even attacked him. These rabbits were large enough to do some serious damage if they wanted to, especially with their large incisors.

They walked slowly and purposefully through the undergrowth. Xin, the only one to have formal training in qi control, started cycling, bringing unfiltered qi into his body, focusing the energy on his eyes and ears. With each intake of breath, he felt his senses heighten slightly. His eyes and ears were more sensitive to fine details and small sounds, especially in the dark.

They both called out to Shang as they walked. They had almost made it back to the edge of the woods before they spotted something. A white lump of fur in the distance. A beam of moonlight landed on the fur, causing it to glow in the undergrowth. YiHua and Xin rushed over to the prone form of the rabbit. Xin prodded it with his foot. No response. He circled the rabbit looking for signs of injuries. He halted in midstep when he saw small feet poking out from under the beast.

“Hurry, help me, he’s under the rabbit!” Xin exclaimed. Xin hurried to lift the rabbit off Shang with the help of YiHua.

“Oh, heavens above, the rabbit’s cold to the touch,” YiHua exclaimed. Xin’s heart was beating so hard he felt it in his throat.

He quickly crouched down by his unmoving friend, checking for a pulse. He breathed out shakily. “I can’t feel anything. I don’t feel a pulse,” he whispered.

“What do you mean?” YiHua crouched by Xin, shouldering him aside so she could check for herself. “Oh.” YiHua’s hands were shaking as she jerked them back. “He’s cold,” She recoiled back on her haunches.

“Do something Xin!” she screamed.

Shang looked so peaceful lying there. His already pale skin looked almost translucent under the moonlight. Xin could not see any obvious wounds. He felt his stomach lurch. He ran from the body and heaved the contents of his stomach onto the forest floor.

“Le- let me try something.” He stuttered out as he got back on his knees. Master Lan had just given them their internal perception lesson the previous day. That combined with his father’s private instruction made Xin semi-confident that what he was attempting would work though he dreaded what he would find. Xin closed his eyes and rearranged his limbs into a cycling position.

He tried to calm his breathing and tune out YiHua’s choked cries. While he was far from the calm he usually needed, his pure desire seemed to be enough. He continued to cycle qi to his body but instead of cycling to his eyes, he focused the energy to his naval, the spot right above his belly button. He kept breathing in, continuing to hold his breath until he felt lightheaded. The mass of qi gathered in his naval was amorphous and sputtering, but it would have to do.

Xin sank deeper into a trance, focusing on that amorphous blob of energy. He pushed himself towards it, trying to sink into it. To his surprise, after only a few tries, he succeeded. He felt enveloped by the energy of the world. He did not allow himself to relish his success. From his mass of energy, he opened his inner eye and looked out.

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The first thing he saw was YiHua kneeling over Shang. In his mind’s eye, she burned with an intense white flame. Maybe to avoid the inevitable, he then focused his gaze on the rabbit. He could see its outline, but only in the negative. Where the body lay, was a rabbit shaped mass of black. Dead. Worse than dead. Devoid of spirit. The sight nearly shook Xin from his trance. He didn’t have much time left. His lungs were screaming at him to exhale.

He looked past the rabbit to Shang’s unmoving form. At first glance, Xin instantly wanted to close his eyes. The form on the ground looked much like the rabbit. Black. Empty. Devoid of life. It was hard to tell. In the light of the life emanating from YiHua, Shang’s spirit looked black, almost, but it was not the true black of the rabbits. Xin could still see a faint pearlescent gleam, pulling and stretching around his form. The color was most intense near his naval. Xin let out his breath in a rush.

“There’s still a chance,” he said. YiHua looked up at him, her eyes red and wet with tears.

“What can we do?” She asked.

“There’s nothing we can do. We have to bring Master Elder,” Xin said.

“Bring him? Why not just bring Shang back to the village? It’s freezing here,” YiHua asked. Xin shook his head.

“I think this could be a spiritual injury. If we take him from this place, it could rip the lingering parts of his spirit out of his body. Then…” He trailed off, not wanting to speak it into existence. YiHua nodded her head in understanding.

“Then you go. You’re the fastest. Hurry.”

Xin did not need to be told twice. He jumped to his feet and sprinted for home, hoping he would not be too late. He ran like his life depended on it. He made it to the village in record time. His mind was crystal clear from the adrenaline and exertion. He made his way to the center of the village. Before he could make it far, a small woman stepped in front of him, blocking his path.

“Where is my son?” Shang’s mother stood in front of him in a night gown, her hair in disarray. Xin had never seen her like this before. She looked like she hadn’t slept in days, her golden eyes were rimmed with dark circles.

More importantly, a commanding and almost stifling air surrounded her. Xin took a step back involuntarily. At Xin’s reaction, she made an effort to soften her voice. “XinXin-Bo, do you know where my son is? Were you with him? I cannot sense him. I cannot see him at all. He is hidden from me.” Xin could only nod in response. ChuHua sighed in relief and the oppressive air lessened slightly. “Take me to him,” she commanded.

Xin felt the desire to obey without question, but with an effort, he managed to shake his head. “I will aunty, but I need to get Master Elder Zuang first. He needs a healer. He’s been badly hurt,” he said.

“I know that,” she snapped. “Take me to him. Master Elder can do nothing for him.” Her voice was dripping with bitterness and venom. Xin was about to retort that she had no way of helping but stopped at the look in her eyes. “I know XinXin-bo. I may not look like much, but I do have some experience with healing. I think I can help him.” She offered, her tone soothing.

Xin was about to refuse again when he felt a warmth wash over him. Before he could think about why he was so against her suggestion in the first place, his head bobbed in agreement. He quickly turned, leading Shang’s mother back the way he came.

The return journey seemed even shorter than his sprint to the village though he had slowed himself down substantially so ChuHua could match his pace. The space around them seemed to push them toward their destination. Before he knew it, he was back in the forest. He could see the carcass of the white rabbit, luminous under the moonlight.

“Why are you back so soon? Where is the elder?” YiHua asked. She gripped ChuHua’s forearm tightly in greeting but her attention was on Xin. “Did you find aunty on your way there?”

“No, she was back at the village. She said she could help, so I brought her here,” Xin explained. YiHua looked at Xin in disbelief.

“You left only moments ago, there’s no way you—” YiHua was interrupted by ChuHua’s hand on her shoulder. Despite her disheveled appearance, the commanding air around her was even stronger now. YiHua moved aside as she approached Shang’s body. ChuHua knelt by her son; her golden eyes unblinking as they studied his unmoving form.

She reached out and placed one palm on his forehead and the other on his naval. Almost immediately, the air around them lost its biting edge. The frost that had begun to form on the forest floor around Shang began melting. Xin and the twins all breathed out a collective sigh. They didn’t realize how cold it was until the warmth started thawing their fingers and toes. They looked at ChuHua with renewed respect. They knew she had a stern side from the way she disciplined Shang, but she had never shown anything like this. As she sat, her mouth moved almost imperceptibly, Xin could catch some of the faint murmurings.

“…but not him. He is not to blame…repent…cripple him”

Xin, in curiosity, moved closer to catch ChuHua's soft words.

“Seventy years. A blink of an eye for you. Let him live out his full life. Then, I promise.” A pause. “I will return.” Xin studied ChuHua closely now that her eyes were closed.

The villagers had always felt uneasy around her. Her heart shaped face was framed with thick ink black hair. While her eyes were a different shade than the rest, she did not look as foreign as Xin and his family. Though she did not possess the same birthmark as her son, she was still striking if not quite beautiful.More than her appearance, her unearthly grace and foreign mannerisms disconcerted the villagers. She was not a cultivator, having never fully opened any of her meridians, little better than a child. Yet, while she was respectful, she never seemed to cower in the face of cultivators, even the elders. The villagers did not know how to treat her. She stood separate from their usual hierarchy.

The warmth steadily crept into their surroundings until it felt like a warm autumn day. Xin waited impatiently for any sign of life from the still form of his best friend. Even though only a dozen breaths passed, it felt like an eternity. Then a sharp snap rang through the air, not so much a sound as it was a vibration. ChuHua grimaced, her eyebrows pulling together in concentration. The children were all tensed in anticipation, waiting for something to happen.

Shang, still unconscious, gave a weak cough. Relief crashed into Xin. His body felt heavy with fatigue, suddenly remembering the exertion of the night.

“My baby. You’ve come back to me.” ChuHua whispered. She cradled her son’s head on her lap, rocking back and forth. Her previous air of strength was gone. She was just a mother nursing her son. Tears wound their way down the contours of her face. It was a strange sight.

In FuJia, it was uncustomary for adults to show such emotion in public. Though she was a woman, she was still expected to keep her emotions in check. Xin did not mind. Somehow, there was nothing more natural than the scene before him. His hands gingerly went to his face, surprised to find his cheeks wet with tears.

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Hidden in the trees, a pair of deep azure eyes stared at the scene below him.

Finally, after all these years.