Page 69 of The Blood Orchid

“Maybe we have another candidate for the Empress’s accomplice?” I said, turning my head toward Wenshu.

Wenshu blinked quickly as if considering this. “Would she have healed you if that were the case? Doesn’t she want you dead?”

“She wants me on a leash,” I said, thinking back to the way Zheng Sili had leashed Durian. In my dream, the string had been red, like the red thread of fate...

Cold seized my body. All at once, I remembered the headlineon the flyer in the armory. How could I have forgotten? And how much time had passed since I was stabbed? Surely Yufei’s soul, if it had ever been waiting at the river, was long gone by now. The chances of finding her soul had already been so slim, and now they were almost nonexistent.

“Gege,” I said, grabbing his wrist. “There was a flyer, an announcement from Chang’an about the Empress.”

“Oh, that,” Wenshu said, rolling his eyes. “Yes, I saw that in your pocket when they gave me your clothes. I didn’t know printing presses could reproduce illustrations so clearly.”

I waited for him to say more, but he only sat down at the nearest desk and crossed his arms. Were we speaking the same language? Had he actually read the flyer?

“You know what this means?” I said.

He nodded. “It means we need to wrap up this business with Penglai Island as soon as possible so we can sort out the mess at the palace before there’s a war of succession,” he said. “And it means I need to be extra careful that no one recognizes me. Maybe I should grow a beard?”

“What about Jiejie?” I said, my fist tight around the sheets.

“What about her?” Wenshu said, raising an eyebrow. “I’m sure Yufei will come back to the palace when she hears that we’ve returned.”

“Come back?” I said. “Gege, the illustration—”

“It isn’t her!” he said, slamming his fist on the desk.

I flinched, tugging the sheets tighter. A breeze rushed through the windows, tearing Wenshu’s hair back, curtains billowing behind him. Facing away from the light, his brown eyes looked starkly black. For a single moment, as he looked down at me, I saw one raw glimpse of his anger, dark enough to devour the world.

He took a steadying breath as the wind died down, and when he opened his eyes, he looked calm once more.

“She wouldn’t let this happen,” he said, waving his hand as if waving a cloud of smoke from the air. “Besides, did you see the drawing? It doesn’t look like the Empress. She’s not even wearing shoes.”

I said nothing, too terrified to argue with him. Because if he truly understood that Yufei was gone, he would hate me for it. He had left the palace forme, to help me fix my mistakes.

Something in my expression must have given away my thoughts, because he sighed and knelt back down on the floor in front of me.

“Do you really have so little faith in her?” he said.

I shook my head. “It’s not about faith,” I said.

“It is,” Wenshu said, frowning. “I have faith in Yufei, and in you.”

All at once, I understood. Even if Yufei was dead, Wenshu thought I could bring her back.

I shouldn’t have been surprised. Thanks to me, Wenshu had only ever seen death as a temporary state, something I could fix for him given the right ingredients. I didn’t know if he could even comprehend the permanence of death. He had never had to drag those he loved back from the other side. He had never held the corpse of someone he cared about. Death was an abstract idea to him, like the Confucian philosophy he studied.

“Show me a body, and I will mourn,” he said. “Bring her corpse to me, and I will plan a funeral. But my sister is alive, and I will not mourn the living.”

“Right,” I said quietly. What else could I do but pretend to believe him? He thought I was the Scarlet Alchemist, the girl who would save the entire kingdom, and more importantly, ourfamily. To him, this didn’t change our plans. Either Yufei had somehow escaped and would return to us in time, or I’d bring her back once I got to Penglai Island. Slowly, I released my grip on the sheets. Wenshu believed Yufei would be fine in the end, and Wenshu was usually right.

“Where is Durian?” I said quietly.

Wenshu’s jaw unclenched, perhaps relieved that I’d dropped the subject. “Downstairs, where Zheng Sili is entertaining the alchemist who saved you.”

“And where are my clothes?”

Wenshu passed me a pile of clothing, surprisingly free of bloodstains. I gestured for him to turn around while I changed.

I rose to my feet, shaking the numbness from them, then smoothed down my dress. My face felt scraped raw, and I was sure that meant Wenshu had scoured it with a wet rag while I was asleep. “All right,” I said. “I want to see what kind of alchemist managed to save me.”