Zihan burst through the door, soaked to the bone. Water dripped from his hair, his clothes clung to his small frame, and his feet squelched with each step on the dirt floor.

He slapped his hands onto his knees, bent over and heaving heavily, gasping for breath. Beads of sweat and rainwater mingled on his brow, running down his face, stinging his eyes.

“Tong!” Zihan rasped, His eyes darted around the dimly lit room, settling on the small bed in the corner where his younger brother lay. “We need to leave. Now.”

The single flickering candle on the table cast long shadows on the walls, making the room feel even more oppressive.

Zihan’s heart pounded in his chest as he straightened up, water still dripping from him, forming a puddle at his feet.

Tong stirred slowly, blinking against the dim light as he lifted his head. “Brother, what’s going on?” he mumbled, his voice thick with sleep.

“We need to leave,” Zihan repeated, his fingers trembled slightly as he wiped the water from his eyes. “Come. Now. We can’t stay here.”

“Leave?” Tong asked confused. He swung his legs over the side of the bed, his large frame dwarfing the small cot. Despite being two years younger than Zihan.

Tong was taller, stronger, with a solid build that seemed out of place on someone so young. “But... what about Mother?”

Zihan’s breath hitched, and he quickly averted his gaze from the empty corner where their mother’s mat lay. The absence of her frail figure felt like a knife twisting in his gut, but there was no time to explain. “We can’t take her with us,”

“What!? What FOOLISHNESS are you SPEAKING?” Tong snapped, his confusion morphing into anger.

He stood up from the bed, towering over Zihan. His fists clenched at his sides as he stepped closer, the heat of his frustration radiating off him. “You want to leave her behind? She’s sick! She needs us!”

The rainwater that had soaked through his clothes now felt freezing against his skin, making him shiver. He stepped forward, his soaked sandals reminding him he was shorter than his brother. “She’ll be fine, if she left with us…she won’t have access to her medicine. Let’s go!”

“No! You leave!”

“I can’t leave you here…you’ll be killed!”

Tong widened his eyes, shocked, but his body remained unfazed. “What!? What are you talking about?’ He asked annoyed, in disbelief. His twisted his face in confusion, “I don’t care who wants to kill me. I’m not leaving mom!”

Zihan grabbed Tong’s arm, but he shrugged him off. “You don’t understand…”

The room fell into an oppressive silence, broken by the drips of water that fell from Zihan’s clothes. His heaved the air in the room, tasting the dust as it watered his mouth. He stared at Tong, who still didn’t move.

The air between them felt thick, charged with tension, as if the very walls were holding their breath. “What did you do?” Tong finally asked.

The memory of the last few hours flashed in his mind. The moment he pushed that Axsumite demoness into the water, he just ran.

Run. Run. Run.

“I... I didn’t mean to pus…” He said softly. “But father…”

Zihan’s eyes flicked to the door, then back to his brother, his jaw set in a hard line. “Where is she? Where’s mother?” he asked, finally realising she wasn’t home.

Tong stopped, hesitated for a few seconds. “She’s not here,” he said, his voice barely audible. “She went out to get some vegetables…but this storm of rain will hold her.”

“I see, lets leave…trust me”

“No!” Tong snapped, his voice cracking as he tried to fight his anger. “I’m not leaving her! You can’t make me!”

“Listen to me!” He growled, “If we stay, they’ll kill us both. Don’t you get it. Mother won’t make it”

“YOU KEEP SAYING WE’RE GOING TO BE KILLED. YOU HAVEN’T SAID WHO!?” Tong snapped, “tell me whats happening, or leave because I’m not leaving without mother. She’s sick! She can’t survive on her own” His voice cracked, his bravado faltering.

Zihan’s heart ached at the sight of his brother, so determined. He wished he had more time to explain, to make him understand, but time was running out. He could feel it in the pit of his stomach, a cold dread gnawing at him. They had to leave—now.

“We don’t have a choice,” Zihan whispered, his voice breaking. He stepped forward, his hand resting on Tong’s shoulder, water dripping from his sleeve onto his brother’s arm. “Please, Tong. We have to go. We’ll come back for her, I promise. But if we don’t leave now... we’ll never get the chance.”

The tension in the room heightened. Tong stared at Zihan, his chest rising and falling rapidly. For a moment, it seemed like he would refuse again, but then his shoulders slumped in defeat. He glanced toward the door, then back at his brother, tears glistening in his eyes.

The door creaked open suddenly, and both brothers froze. Their mother staggered in, drenched from head to toe. As the water dripped from her soaked tunic, pooling at her feet, and her chest heaved with laboured breaths. Her normally composed face was pale, the deep shadows under her eyes accentuating her exhaustion.

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“M-Mother?” Tong stammered.

She took a few more unsteady steps before her legs buckled beneath her, collapsing in a heap just inside the door. Tong grabbed her, his larger frame barely able to support her sudden weight.

“Mother! No, no, no!” Tong cried, trying to hold her up.

Zihan’s heart dropped into his stomach. His breath caught in his throat, and in that moment, he couldn’t move. Panic surged through his veins, freezing him in place. “BROTHER HELP HER!” Tong screamed out, cradling her head in his lap, trying desperately to wipe the rainwater from her face. “Mother, wake up!” His voice cracked. “We have to get her up! Zihan, do something!”

“We need to get Xiabo Lin,” he murmured after catching himself. “We have to get the physician.”

“I’ll go,” Tong blurted out, trying to lift himself to his feet. But their mother stirred weakly, her hand reaching out to grip his tunic.

Zihan rushed forward and grabbed his brother’s arm, his grip tight and urgent. “No! I’ll go. You stay with her.”

Tong glared at him, his brow furrowed. “No! You’re too slow! I can get her faster!” His eyes flashed with desperation, his muscles tense with the need to act. “I’m bigger, Zihan. I can carry her if I have to!”

Zihan’s stomach twisted. He knew Tong was right—his brother was bigger and stronger. He had to be the one to go, he was faster and after what he’d just said about leaving her…it wouldn’t sit will with him.

“Stay with her. She needs someone here. I’ll be quick. I promise!”

Tong clenched his fists, visibly torn between the urgency to fetch help and the sight of their mother gasping for air. “But what if she...what if...?” His voice faltered, fear clouding his eyes.

“YOU’RE DELAYING ME! Just hold on. I’ll be back before you know it.”

Tong’s shoulders slumped in reluctant acceptance. He lowered his gaze, clutching their mother’s frail hand. “Hurry,” he whispered, his voice hoarse.

Zihan spun on his heel and dashed through the door, his wet sandals slapping the muddy ground as he ran. The rain was falling even harder now, sheets of water cascading from the sky. It was as if the heavens themselves were weeping with them.

As he forced his legs to move faster, his feet slipped occasionally in the mud. The cold air bit at his skin, something he didn’t registered as his mind was racing, thinking of his mother. I need to get reach Sister Lin.

Every breath felt like it scraped against his chest, but he didn’t slow down. He couldn’t.

Zihan reached the physician’s house and pounded on the door with both fists. “SISTER LIN! SISTER LIN! HELP, PLEASE HELP I NEED YOU!”

The door creaked open, revealing the small figure of Xiabo Lin, her face creased with concern. “Zihan?” she asked, quickly assessing his frantic state. “What’s wrong?”

“My…mother,” He rasped.” She collapsed. She came back home and fainted.”

“SHE WAS OUT IN THE RAIN?”

Xiabo Lin turned from the door and rain back inside, “Dad! Take care of Little Qing. There’s an emergency!”

She rushed back to the door and darted through the muddied streets, having Zihan following him behind.

They arrived back at the house; the sight of his mother’s still forms hit him like a physical blow. Tong was still kneeling beside her, his face streaked with tears, his hands gripping hers as if trying to will her back to health. “Please, save her,” Tong whispered.

“Start a fire, she has to be warmed up…” Xiabo Lin snap, kneeling beside their mother. She began accessing their mother whilst the boys built a fire.

The seconds stretched into what felt like hours, the room deathly silent except for the faint gasps of their mother’s shallow breathing. Finally, Xiabo Lin sat back on her heels, her expression grim.

“I’m so sorry boys,” she whispered, her voice gentle yet firm. “She’s gone.”

The words crashed over them like a tidal wave, suffocating in their finality. Zihan’s legs buckled beneath him, and he collapsed to the floor, unable to hold himself up any longer. His chest felt tight, his vision blurred with tears.

Tong’s face twisted in disbelief, his body frozen in place as he stared at their mother’s lifeless form. “No...no, she can’t be...” His voice was small, broken, as if he were clinging to a sliver of hope that Xiabo Lin had made a mistake.

But there was no mistake. Their mother was gone.

Zihan’s hands trembled as he reached out, gently closing their mother’s eyes, his heart breaking with each movement. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice barely audible over the rain that continued to fall outside. “I’m so sorry.”

----------------------------------------

As three days passed, each day felt longer than the last. The air within the home, was thick with grief. The oppressive silence hung over the house like a fly, sweltering for prey. The village had rallied around them, offering help where they could, but the brothers remained withdrawn, their pain too raw, too personal.

The funeral was a small, quiet affair. Zihan and Tong stood side by side, both dressed in plain robes, their faces pale and drawn. The small gathering of villagers stood respectfully at a distance, whispering condolences, but neither brother acknowledged them. Their focus was solely on the woman lying before them.

Their mother’s body lay on a simple wooden bier, her face peaceful in death. Flowers had been laid around her, a tradition meant to guide her spirit to the afterlife. Zihan had helped arrange the flowers himself, his hands steady but his heart in turmoil.

Tong stood tall beside him, though his usual strength seemed to have drained away over the last few days. His shoulders were slumped, his eyes red and swollen from crying. He hadn’t said much since that night, the weight of their mother’s death hanging heavy on him.

The village elder stepped forward to say a few words, his voice soft and sombre. he spoke of their mother’s kindness, her strength, and her love for her sons. But the words felt hollow to Zihan, empty echoes that couldn’t fill the void her absence had left.

As the elder finished speaking, Zihan stepped forward, his legs feeling like lead as he approached the bier. He knelt beside his mother, his fingers brushing against the rough wood. “We’ll miss you, Mother,” he whispered, his voice barely audible.

Tong knelt beside him, his large frame trembling. He didn’t speak, but his presence was enough. Together, they mourned in silence, the weight of their loss settling over them like a suffocating shroud.

The ceremony ended with the lighting of incense, the thin curls of smoke rising into the air, carrying their prayers to the heavens. The villagers slowly began to disperse, leaving the brothers alone in their grief.

Zihan knelt long after everyone had left, his mind numb. The rain finally stopped, leaving moisture in the air that was richer than usual. It clung to his skin. like a reminder of that night. Tong came and sat beside him in silence, his face turned toward the sky. He looked lost, as if the world had shifted beneath him and he didn’t know where to go from here. “Brother, we’ll survive,” Zihan said suddenly, his voice hoarse from disuse. He wasn’t sure if he was saying it for his brother or for himself, but the words felt important, a promise he needed to make.

Zihan didn’t respond at first, his gaze still fixed on the horizon. But after a long moment, he nodded slowly. “Yeah,” he whispered, his voice barely a breath. “We’ll survive…but not here.”

“I’m willing to leave now, there’s nothing for us here.”

“You’re willing to leave?”

“Yes…”

“Then let’s leave…”

“You have an idea where we’re heading?”

“I don’t, but I know our destination.”

“To be stronger than Zhao Xing…” Susu and Zhao Xing exchanged a glance, a silent truce passing between them.

“Agreed,” Susu said.

“Fine,” Zhao Xing muttered.