The rapid knocking had gone on for long enough that Hua Qingzhao could hear it drumming in her skull. She rolled over onto her stomach on her small bed and clamped her hands over her ears, yet the knocking continued.

She rolled onto her back and groaned loudly, sitting up. Her bedroom was dark and windowless, stuffy feeling from the lack of air but she found it quite comfortable and hoped that if she took her time to get up and leave it that the knocking might stop.

As she slowly pulled on some clothing, and slowly put on simple sandals she had made from spare cloth and bark, and then slowly got to her feet and slowly walked down the short hall into the flower shop proper, the knocking continued. She had a sinking suspicion that she already knew who it was. Sunlight was leaking through the cloth covered windows of the shop, a light frost forming on the flowers closest to the window.

Pushing open the door, she was unsurprised to see the anxious face of Lang Lang, who was carrying a sleepy looking yet green faced Zhu'er on his back all wrapped up in blankets. "Good morning Lord Lang Lang, you do know I'm usually asleep at this time?" She asked, exaggerating a yawn.

"Sister Hua! I'm really sorry, really really sorry! But I didn't realize how cold it was going to be here and I need to go buy new seeds so we can actually grow food," Lang Lang whined, like a dog against a closed door. "I think I moved us too far northwards."

"I think you're overreacting a little, my lord," Sister Hua spoke frankly, "but I... I guess it is better to be prepared. Do you even know if there's a town or city nearby where you can buy seeds though?"

Lang Lang's anxiousness was now mixed with a bit of sheepishness as he cast his eyes downwards. "Well, no. I can certainly sniff one out though I'm sure. I'm putting you and Lin in charge so I'm sure everyone will be in good hands."

Sister Hua patted Lang Lang on the head, "thank you for your confidence, although I'm not sure some other people will be happy that you might be gone for a while." She glanced at the sickly looking child on Lang Lang's back.

"It won't be that long!" Lang Lang assured her, smiling. "I just need you to watch Zhu'er. I was going to ask Lin, but I think he's busy with so many people feeling nauseous still."

"I don't mind watching her at all, but didn't Lin say it was best for her to stay in your shrine during the night? If you don't come back by then, should I just leave her there?"

"Yes," Lang Lang nodded, gently moving Zhu'er off his back and set her on the ground where she wobbled on her legs for a moment before balancing. "Zhur Er, I'll be gone for a little bit, but Sister Hua will take care of you!"

Zhu'er rubbed her sleep covered eyes and simply nodded, the dark red curls bouncing around her face as she held her cocoon of blankets around her.

Lang Lang nuzzled the top of her head and gave her a hug before he got up and took Hua's hands, "thank you again! If I find anything for you to eat I'll bring it back!" With that, he released her hands and left with a brisk pace. Hua stood in the doorway for a moment before she heard Lang Lang's voice in the distance, earnestly apologizing to someone about not being able to stay and talk.

"Well, looks like you're going to be stuck with me for a little while," she said as she took Zhur Er's hand in her own. "How about we have something to eat first and then you can help me with my shop? I'm running low on some things and there's a few hardy flowers we can probably find!"

Zhu'er nodded weakly, her eyes on Lang Lang's retreating form until he disappeared from sight.

Hua pulled the girl's hand gently as she brought her into the shop, going past the frost covered blooms and further back into the shop, crossing over a small threshold that separated store from home. Just like her bedroom, most of the house was dark. Even the small kitchen barely held any of the weak light that broke through the thin curtains. In truth she rarely used it except in the rare occasions that Lin visited or future mother-in-laws wanted to stay for hours discussing the finer details between a bouquet of yellow peonies and red chrysanthemums or yellow chrysanthemums and red peonies. It was just polite to give food at that point.

"Sit right here," she ordered, pointing at a cushion that sat next to the wall. The child obeyed, apparently relieved she could sit and curl up tightly into her blanket cocoon.

Hua Qingzhao then began rummaging through the small cabinets that had been built into the wall. Her knowledge of the previous occupant of the house was sparse, the man had been a carpenter of some sort and had built all sorts of compartments within the house so that even almost one hundred years later she kept finding new ones. It made for convenient places to store things like seeds, dried flowers, documents, clothes, and food. However as she went through the cabinets and small drawers she found only a few tubers she could not remember the age of, a set of three lotus roots that had been wrapped up in salt filled linen, a small pot full of nuts, and a note she had written two winters ago to buy more food. "...Ah, of course," she muttered.

She sighed and unwrapped the lotus roots. None of them looked particularly appetizing either, having browned considerably on the outside. She got up and went to a small table where a set of knives sat and picked up the first one she spotted, slicing away the browned skin of one of the roots. Beneath she was pleased to find healthy looking paler flesh and a recipe was being pulled together in her mind.

"Zhu'er, we need to go shopping first. Then I'll make lotus root soup."

"...Lotus... root... soup..." the girl repeated the words back to her slowly.

"Yes! When I was young, where I lived we'd use the last of the lotus roots to make it to celebrate winter's arrival," Hua Qingzhao explained, "we need pork though. Otherwise it'll be too thin and won't warm your stomach."

If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

She did not like being out in the sun or in the day in general, with the general shift of energy being detrimental to her own. Dead things remained in the dark. She was not sure how Lang Lang managed to do it every day and even cheerfully do heavy farm work for hours on end.

Despite the entire town having been moved only the day before, many folk have already gotten over the nausea that comes from a transportation spell. Most towns and cities were set up with wards, but Lang Lang's town had grown haphazardly, needing signposts to help point people in the right direction. The center of the town was Lang Lang's shrine but after that there was little reason or explanation as to where or why people decided to set up shop or house. Hua Qingzhao kept her hand firmly around Zhu'er to keep the little girl from wandering away or getting carried away by the crowds of people.

Holding her small hand in her own, Hua Qingzhao felt something tug in her unbeating heart. She paused in her step to look down one street that wriggled like a snake towards a dead-end where a group of people had assembled to listen to someone read poetry. "Zhu'er, do you want to listen to some poems?"

"Hungry."

"Haha," Hua Qingzhao kept moving, "I thought so. But in order to become a well-respected young woman though you really should start learning to read and write! Men love women who can engage in good conversation and write poems."

The two finally came to sets of stalls that were not placed in front of buildings so much as being strange outgrowths of them. A burly man with old blood splatter on his bare arms stood behind one of them, waving a hand at the two. "OH! OH! Miss Hua! Miss Hua Qingzhao! Over here!"

Hua Qingzhao came close to the stall, leaning forward slightly to smile at the man, "good morning Ye, I see that you're looking quite healthy."

"Haha, yeah, a bit of medicine from Doctor Lin!" He smiled back at her, "I don't usually see you out this early! What are you doing?"

"I'm actually shopping for some pork ribs, do you have any?" She asked. The mention of Lin sparked another thought in her mind, "also do you have any chicken ready?"

The burly man nodded, "yes to both! We've just finished slaughtering some and the blood should be finished draining." He turned around to shout into the building, "HEY BRO! PORK RIBS AND ONE UNDRESSED HEN."

Now with meat in hand, by the time the two returned to Hua Qingzhao's home the frost had melted from the flowers closest to the window, making the edges of the poor flowers wrinkly. "Ah, that's no good," was all Hua Qingzhao could think to say about it before she started on making the meal.

Zhu'er watched her quietly, staring into the pot as ingredients were gradually added in.

"There's no spices, so the soup will taste a bit bland," Hua Qingzhao warned.

"Okay."

Hua Qingzhao looked over at the little girl. She looked radically different from the frail wounded child Lang Lang had arrived with. Her face was now round and her bones no longer poked out so worryingly through her skin, and her hair was brushed and tamed into nice manageable hairstyles (by Hua) so it would no longer fly around wildly. But somehow she had shrunken back inside of herself. Hua Qingzhao wondered if it was due to Lang Lang being gone, or if something else troubled the small child.

As she too stared into the boiling pot, her memories drifted back to another time. Sitting in a nicely appointed room where the scent of peonies floated past the latticework of the window to fall over her and her son.

He was dead though, she knew. But had she not done her best to ensure he would live long and well? Death had not stopped her, it had simply given her a new route to ensure his happiness. He did not deserve to be raised in a brothel.

"AUNTIE HUA IT'S BOILING!"

The scream yanked her from her thoughts and she instinctively pulled up the pot from the simple stone stove, some of the broth splashing onto her arms. It hurt enough to make her hiss.

A moment of awkward silence settled between them, punctuated only by the sound of the bubbling pot. She sighed and slowly put it down, "thank you Zhu'er. Looks like you really can talk more when you want to!"

Zhu'er pointed at her arm, where the angry burn marks had already begun to dissolve back into smooth flesh.

"Don't worry about it," Hua Qingzhao spoke gently, "I'm a bit more durable than most people in town." She looked down at the soup. The pork and chicken she had put in had both turned pale, bobbing up and down in the broth with the nuts, sliced roots, and a few other bits of food Hua Qingzhao had found while giving her kitchen another scouring. She got up and grabbed three bowls from another cabinet, ignoring the dead spider that tumbled out, and picked up a ladle she left hanging on a wall hook. Zhu'er's eyes were still on the food.

Hua Qingzhao filled the three bowls, handing one to Zhu'er while placing a small plate over the third one. "I'll be right back," she said, placing her own bowl down on the low table. Zhu'er nodded slightly, already focusing intensely on the food in her hands.

She left her home quickly, keeping her movement quick while also holding the bowl and plate together firmly so nothing might spill. She had a short amount of time, if the cold air did not suck the warmth from the soup then her own chill would.

Fortunately it was not a long walk to Lin's practice although her trek was stymied by a line of people near the entryway. She shuffled past them, careful not to knock anyone over as she moved to the desk that Lin sat at with a nauseous looking older man sitting before it. There were four other doctors present as well, each handling their own patients while an assistant would call out 'NEXT' in a shrill hoarse voice after each patient had left.

"I woke up hours ago and I still feel so dizzy," the old man complained to Lin. "I'm so dizzy I can barely walk."

"You walked right up here just fine," Lin said flatly, his apathetic gaze fixed on the man.

"Please, doctor, I'm fifty three!"

"Your pulse is fine," Lin reached under his desk and picked up a small white bottle with the writing for 'water' on it, giving it to the man. "Take a small drink from this when you get home, sleep, and when you wake up finish the bottle. You'll feel better then. Bring back the bottle."

"Th-thank you! Thank you Doctor Lin!" The man jumped to his feet, clutching the bottle and ran past Hua Qingzhao.

Lin turned his head to her, some of the apathy vanishing, "did you bring me lunch?"

"Be grateful," Hua Qingzhao said, putting it down on the desk. "It has chicken in it." She looked behind herself at the disappearing form the man, "did you just give him water?"

"It got him out. How is Zhu'er?"

"She's fine, I left her to eat while I came to deliver this."

"Thank you."

"..." Hua Qingzhao tried to think of something else to stay, but Lin's attention was already on his next patient that shuffled meekly up to his desk. She wavered for a bit, then turned around to go back home.

By the time she came home, Zhu'er was still holding her bowl, staring into the soup as though trying to divine some future or problem. Hua reached over to gently rest a hand on her back, "is something wrong? I thought you were hungry!"

The girl's lip quivered, her eyes scrunching up as she set the bowl down and began to cry. The sobs came heaving from her chest as her face became red and tear strained. The girl's cries were in words Hua could not understand yet she could feel the deep sorrow in them. She wrapped her long arms around the little girl and held her tightly, the tears soaking into her own clothes.

"It's okay, it's okay," she tried to assure her. The tears fell like a waterfall still, the girl's hands balling into fists full of cloth. "We'll go pick some flowers soon, okay? Finish your soup, it's okay..."