The next day Ruyi got a letter with a royal seal. The paper smelled of Tingting. For a moment she let herself hope.
Then she read the letter.
It was short. It apologized for ‘the unfortunate incident that happened yesterday,’ due to a ‘lapse of judgment.’ It claimed Tingting embarrassed herself, and asked Ruyi to pretend it never happened.
It ended by saying she’d ‘ferry your proposal to Father.’
That morning a gardener was watering the blossoms when he was spooked by a noise from the manor. It sounded like the death throes of an old sickly cat.
But he was used to these outbursts from Lady Yang. He kept on watering.
***
The Post’s latest headline announced that Father’s army had been routed at Ram Valley.
It wasn’t often the Post announced defeats. You could tell how poorly the war was going not by what it said, but by what it left out. The past week it’d reported on the construction of a new Museum of Song history, the latest in seasonal noble fashion, and a new trade treaty between the Phoenix Wing Prefecture and the Heavenly Bamboo Forest; the closest it’d gotten to war was mentioning how well the draft was going. Apparently the army was nearly doubling in size, mostly with Lower City inductees.
The army was doubling, yet somehow there’d been no mention of the war.
Then, today —“3,000 SOLDIERS CAPTURED AND EXECUTED AT ‘MASSACRE OF RAM VALLEY!” Apparently the heinous demons had snuck in by night, surprised Father’s noble, still-sleeping soldiers, feasted on their eyeballs, defiled their corpses, cursed their ancestors—Ruyi stopped reading. The Post was a creative writing exercise for noble failsons who weren’t talented enough to become officials. The point was obvious—to drum up support and anger for a new wave of recruits, but she figured it’d just stoke up fear, possibly resentment toward the Emperor. Something needed to be done, and the Emperor clearly wasn’t doing it.
That evening, they all received a notice by Imperial crane.
An emergency war order. Effective immediately, the Emperor was ordering the Artificing Guild—everyone, including trainees—to produce Ruyi Elixirs for the army and the Guard.
She would’ve popped a bottle to celebrate, but at this point it’d be like drinking a glass of water for her.
***
Late one afternoon after a long day of brewing, she heard a knock at the door.
These days Ruyi had two modes. One was the mode she’d used at the Emergency Meeting, the mode she was in when she visited the Lower City. All washed and dressed up, with an array of smiles ready to fire off at a moment’s notice. She was ‘on.’
This was the case about one day of the month. The rest, she was like one of those rats that subsisted off of rotting dumpster food. When she was in rat-mode she was not to be disturbed, as several servants found out. The gardener knew her as the poised Lady Yang; he’d thought she was an intruder when she’d first taken a morning stroll when she was ‘off,’ barefoot in her bathrobes with her hair undone, stinking vaguely of fish.
When Ruyi answered the door she was very much ‘off.’ She threw open the door. She was halfway through growling “what do you want,” when she made out the person on the other side.
“Jin?”
She hardly recognized him—he wore his hair short now, and was that a tattoo on his arm? He looked like a soldier.
He smiled sheepishly. “Surprise. Hey, si—oof!”
She’d tackled him in a hug.
“You smell awful,” he said.
“I missed you too,” she mumbled.
He jerked a thumb, and only then did she notice the trail of carriages by the road, emblazoned with the orange autumn leaf of the Huo Clan. “Those are my friends from the Temple. They’re helping me with the luggage—”
She was horrified. “You brought other people?!”
She shoved him out of the door and locked it.
“Rue?” said Jin, but she ignored him. She dashed to her wardrobe.
Ten minutes later, someone else emerged. A lady dressed in casual light-blue robes, smelling lightly of persimmon, her hair falling in lustrous curls. She was gorgeous, the essence of class—or so Ruyi hoped. At this point it was a matter of pure hope.
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When she opened the door again Jin was speaking with a boy a foot taller than he was, with flowing dark locks and a handsome smile.
The boy choked off when he saw her. He just stared. “That’s your sister?” As far as Ruyi was concerned this was the only appropriate reaction when meeting her. She smiled politely. “Hi. I’m Ruyi.”
She held out a hand, and he shook it. He had big hands; they swallowed her own.
“I’m Kenz. That is, Kenzin, Kenzin Huo, Young Master of the Huo Clan, but you can call me Kenz,” the boy said. “I, uh, came to see your brother home.”
“That’s very kind of you,” said Ruyi. “It’s nice to meet you.”
“Yes, I think so too. That it’s nice to meet you, I mean,” said Kenz. “Hells, Jin, you didn’t mention your sister was so—”
“You said you wouldn’t be weird about this,” sighed Jin.
“I’m not, I’m not!” Kenz held up his hands. “All I’m saying is—uh, you ever heard of Tao bread?” To the side, Jin groaned.
“No. What’s that?”
“It’s this spiced bread we have up in the Phoenix Wing Prefecture. It’s delicious, I’ll bet you a gold it’s the best bread you’ve ever had. And my grandma, she left me this recipe, see—”
“He’s going to offer to bake you a loaf, and then have it over dinner together,” said Jin. “I’ve seen him try the ‘Grandma’s secret recipe’ act at least a dozen times. Don’t mind him. He’s very stupid—he once lost a fight because he was too busy admiring his reflection in his opponent’s breastplate.”
“That is slanderous!” Kenz tried tackling Jin but Jin just shrugged him off.
“Oh, and all this?” Jin gestured vaguely at Ruyi. “This isn’t real. If you got to know her—which you won’t—you’ll realize she’s really a goblin who’s managed to convince—hngg.”
She’d elbowed him hard in the stomach.
“I’m a what, dear brother?”
“…lovely person…” wheezed Jin. “Really just… lovely…”
“That’s what I thought,” she sniffed.
Kenz gaped at her. “Will you marry me?”
“Get in line,” said Ruyi, smiling wryly. Before he could reply a voice piped up from all the way over by the carriages. A girl was trudging up the road, two trunks in hand and a sack slung over her shoulder. “Are y’all just going to stand there? Or do you feel like helping?”
“Ah!” cried Jin. “Sorry.”
“You should be.” She was pretty and small and lithe, built like a dancer, with a shock of wild red hair. Strapped to her back was a battle-axe as big as she was. As Jin went to help, she punched him playfully on the shoulder. “But I’ll forgive you this once. You’re lucky you’re such a cutie.”
Ruyi blinked at them as they laughed with one another. Jin had just gone and found new friends—a new girlfriend, even? He’d started a whole new life without Ruyi. And he seemed to be doing just fine. Somehow she’d always imagined she was an integral part of his life, that he’d be lost without her, that he needed her. She supposed not.
Once they’d said their goodbyes, she confronted him. “You’re a Temple Monk now.”
“Yeah,” said Jin, scratching at his head.
“And these are who you’ve replaced me with, huh.”
“What?”
“Who’s the girl? Your new girlfriend?”
“Oh—no, no—Pem’s just flirty. She’s like that with everyone.”
“Hmm.”
“Is that what you’re worried about? Being replaced?”
“That was a joke,” she said, turning up her chin. “You can make friends with whoever you like, see if I care—”
Jin hugged her.
“You’re my sister,” he said. “How could anyone replace you?”
“Hmph,” she said, even as warmth spread through her chest. “So you still have some sense.”
“So,” said Jin, cracking open the front door. “What’ve you been up to—oh dear Heavens.”
***
Jin made her help with the clean-up. Ruyi tried arguing the point—so long as they could still eat and sleep and train here, who cared what it looked like? But even she knew she wasn’t winning this one. A family of ferrets had made themselves comfortable in one of her clothes-piles. He even made her clear them out. She shot him sullen looks all evening, but she did it.
***
She woke him up at dawn—marched into his bedroom and threw open the curtains.
“What?” he groaned, wiggling under the covers, trying to escape the light.
“You. Me. Courtyard. Now.”
“Why?”
“You’ve been training three years. You’re meant to be strong now, aren’t you?”
“I mean, I guess—”
“We’ll see about that.”
He blinked the sleep out of his eyes, and sighed. “Seriously?”
“Deadly serious.”
He considered her for a moment. “If whooping you means you’ll let me go back to sleep,” he said, smirking. “I suppose I’ll do it.” When had he gotten so cheeky?
She’d been planning on taking it easy on him the first round, too. Not anymore.
***
In less than half an hour they’d cleared out the courtyard. He wore a fresh set of monk’s garb, while she kept her usual loose robes. The sun took its time coming up today. It was still so cool they could see their breaths frosting in the air, and everything was cast in a bluish glow. It was so early the birds weren’t chirping. It felt like the world was still sleeping. As they strode to opposite sides, their boots softly crunching the morning frost.
“Weapons?” He said. She put up her fists.
“Really.”
She shrugged. “You can use whatever you like.”
“Nah,” said Jin, still smiling. He wasn’t taking her seriously. “I’ll use fists too.”
“Suit yourself,” she said evenly.
She set the hourglass for one round and turned it over. It began.
“I should warn you, I’m Nascent Soul,” said Jin. His hands weren’t even up in a fighting stance.
“I’ll keep it in mind.”
The bell rung for the first round, and she shot straight for him. He sank back, lining up a counter… but she’d leapt like she would’ve three years ago. She was fast then, and stupid—all wild energy. She’d been the bull-rushing type.
When he was within leaping range, she stuttered. Stopped dead still for a second, froze his reactions—she saw the bewilderment on his face—and then sprung up twice as fast, fast as she could. He’d barely gotten a hand up to block when her first sank into his stomach. She got a pleasing wheeze out of him—HNGGG—but when she reared up to clock him in the face, her knuckles only grazed his cheek. He rolled with the blow, mouth widening, brightening—
She somersaulted out the way as a cloud of furious yellow scorched the air where she’d been.
“Shit,” panted Jin, doubled over. He never used to swear. “You’ve gotten fast.”
“Yeah, I should’ve warned you,” said Ruyi, smirking. “I hit Demon Queen.”
He groaned. “I’ll keep it in mind.”
“I’m about to Demonform. You sure you want to use just fists?”
“…I’ll get my spear.”
Then the battle really began.