“No, let him sleep a little longer.”

  Hao heard Zhengqi’s fluttering, shy voice, his head buried in a pillow that smelled like her; a spot of drool ran from his cheek to his ear.

  Other scents far less pleasant wafted around him, ones he didn’t care to wake to, dried blood and sweaty bandages.

  “Miss, you need to move aside. I know you think you know what’s best for him, but we need to check his wounds unless he isn’t really injured.”

  A man’s voice cut off her sweet chirp. An unpleasant voice that spoke of all the arrogance befitting a cultivator. His voice held power; however, it was just the call of a mountain goat that climbed a little higher than the rest of the pack.

  Zhengqi spoke again, starting with an uncouth snort, the last thing Hao would have expected from her. Those soft, shy chirps transformed into the tone of a mother. “Even if you doubt my words, I won’t disturb my Young Master.”

  Young Master. Hao mouthed the words, like he was feeling out their shape. It seemed deep, almost profound, why someone would call him that, he couldn’t figure it out, not when it was said in that earnest way. For reliance, just protection in exchange for servitude… affection?

  He just wanted to bury his face down in the pillow again, but the grogginess of sleeping and waking of mortals was a thing of the past. It left him without excuse.

  Hao heard a foot stomp on the ground. It made him open one eye; a red afternoon light came streaming through the half-cracked window. It was the second day of winter, unless he had slept more than the night and the morning away.

  His eye jumped to the source of the aggressive step. For a moment, he thought he saw through their skin, frail white bones built in a tower in the shape of men and women, tiny, faint flames glowing near their navels, the one in the front a little brighter than the rest.

  With a blink, it all disappeared. They were just more people trying to stick their necks a little higher than the person next to them. All but one were in servant white; The disciple stood at the head of the serpent of people, his head out like a heron’s, a smirk of utter unconcealed pride.

  “It’s best if you move, girl. No matter whose pet you are, you don’t own the Medicine Hall,” the one with the longest neck and highest eyebrows, reached his hand out closer to Zhengqi than it needed to be.

  Hao turned his head; the wood of the bed cried under his sudden shift as he sat up. Everyone froze like frogs in a frozen pond.

  He sighed. The air was cool on his tongue, a light mist created in front of his face, yet everyone else seemed to be sweating. Cold sweat, almost sour; they tainted the air more than the old, rust colored, copper-scented bandages.

  “Zhengqi, I forgot to tell you last night; there are thousands of the same beautiful blue flowers growing on the Fifth Peak.”

  Hao found the floor with his feet, stretching before he stood. His body was still sore; his bones seemed a little off. As he pressed his palms down on his knees, it sounded like someone stepped on rationed salt bread. As he let out a sigh of relief, others twitched their fingers.

  Zhengqi jumped to his elbow and tried to pull him down. It would be so easy this time. He was sore, battered, maybe a good punch to the gut away from dying, but he was refreshed; the most refreshed he felt in months. The thought of fatty food crossed his mind as he lifted Zhengqi with him; she slipped off as he stretched his shoulders, his palms pointed at the ceiling.

  Hao surprised himself; when his hands came back down, his left swung like a pendulum, free and flowing, his right, straight out forward, the tip of his index finger lightly touching the forehead of the disciple that reached for Zhengqi.

  This is strange, up until now… I’ve killed in self-defense, and every battle I’ve started was to avenge. Usually only for others, yet right now, my body and mind are screaming at me: That’s what all this pain is for: Power: I want this person to pop like a—

  He stopped his thought short, worried he might pull it into reality.

  Hao could have killed the man five times before he realized there was a finger pressed against his forehead.

  “They turn the petals into a bright blue dye. I think they might be able to take some of the next time I pass by the peak.”

  This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  The man’s eyes finally crossed, looking at the finger touching his forehead, right between his eyes. They dilated, growing to the whites.

  “Young Master…” her voice was back to the shy chirping, almost serene in her shyness, “I can’t wear blue, I’m just a servant. I like white better anyway,” she said.

  Hao glanced over to her; her white robes were see-through at their thinnest parts, yellow at the parts that had seen the most wear.

  “Mhm, you look better in white anyway, I think…” He remembered he didn’t know anything about clothes or colors after he said it; he had come to this mountain in what most people would consider a sack for grain and potatoes.

  He continued, “What about a green? It would be hard to find the same shade of your eyes and Meiqi’s… Does your daughter have the same eye color?”

  Hao still had the furs of the ice-feline demonic beasts; they would make fine coats before summer came again.

  Zhengqi slid forward, the hollows of her knees digging into the edge of the sickbed. “Did Young Master not see her at Ancestor’s house?” She asked, the panic in her voice almost concealed.

  “Only for a second,” Hao had to change the topic. He couldn’t tell her that her daughter was bound like a dog; blindfolded and muzzled, moving like a puppet. “I will go see Taoyi again after I know why these people were approaching me in my sleep.”

  They probably thought Meiqi was a lioness protecting a cub. Easy targets, easy prey, the lioness was timid alone, and the cub was defenseless, sleeping and in a bed for the injured and sick. It was free meat, so to speak.

  Perhaps it was arrogant of Hao to think so, but it was more like a kitten standing in front of a dragon; the way his hand was twitching said it all; the cat and her litter were the only things keeping the dragon in the cave.

  Now he was standing in front of Zhengqi. His eyes swept across the faces of a half-dozen people, most of them just servants, ducklings behind a once proud blue crested goose.

  One duck felt brave, clenching his hands in fists and stepping to the gander’s side. “More disciples returning from the Mid-Summer Cave are coming to the medicine hall. We have to check your injuries. If you are recovering, we need you to move to the front of the hall…”

  Hao nodded his head. It sounded good, reasonable even, but do people so innocent and kind shiver in their shoes and sweat down their necks at the same time?

  Would there be a need to grab Zhengqi?

  The long-necked disciple in front of him bit down in the air, his teeth grinding. “This is the Medicine Hall, not some place to take a nap, no matter who…” his voice trailed off. For a second, there was some fire; all that passion quickly turned to mud. Perhaps mentioning one of the upper peaks in passing was too much for those who accepted their places on the ground.

  “What is going on back here?” A voice broke the tension. The tall woman, who seemed to work here nonstop day and night, came over in a hurry.

  Zhengqi stood at Hao’s side as she approached and bowed her head to the woman. “Senior, it’s nothing,” she said.

  Her small hands reached up and wrapped around Hao’s elbow. Slowly, he lowered his arm at her beckoning. “My Young Master is always in a rush.”

  The tall woman stopped just short, nodding her head to Hao and the other disciple, showing the required respect before tilting her head. “Everyone is in a rush this morning. I need some people to help me gather supplies for the Medicine Hall leader…” she sighed, “She has to go up to the First Peak.”

  Hao’s eyes snapped to the tall woman, reading the shape of her lips to make sure he heard right. The first peak is where Mo Bangcai is hiding and recovering when he isn’t bullying every dog, bee, and flower that can’t fight back.

  He relaxed his shoulders as Zhengqi held herself tighter to him.

  The last bits of tension vanished as the Servant in white folded, forgetting about Hao as they gathered behind the tall woman. They glanced at Hao, mixed emotions in their eyes; he despised that look of weary reverence.

  The disciple didn’t have that look, just pupils of a shored fish, blown wide and lost. With Hao’s finger gone, he sighed. Droplets of sweat that had formed on his neck spilled down into his robe. He slid back his foot, making the waxed tiled floor screech.

  It wasn’t long before Hao and Zhengqi were again left alone. Zhengqi yawned, sinking back down onto the sickbed.

  “Who is that woman? Why would a disciple listen to her?” Hao asked, wondering why that tall woman could walk around with her head tall while the other servants squirmed like they were reverential and scared all the time.

  “Senior?” Zhengqi looked up at Hao for confirmation, “Her name is Jinmao. She has been in the medicine hall longer than I have. I don’t know much, but her talent for mixing medicines got her recognition from the Hall Leader even though she is a servant.”

  Interesting. “So the Medicine Hall Leader isn’t like Taoyi.”

  Zhengqi shook her head, “No, Lady Liang Wanli comes here to gather herbs to practice alchemy,” She pointed at the door at the end of the hall. “We don’t see her often, but she is kind enough; there is an old man with her sometimes, and he… His eye sockets are hollow, and he never speaks.”

  The Sixth Elder? Hao remembered the old man sitting down at the side of the Elder’s Hall after he finished the Bone-Shaking Trial.

  Hao stopped pondering. “I have to go, Zhengqi. I will get Meiqi this time… I will try to get Penqi again too, but even if I can’t, Taoyi won’t break the agreement as long as I have something to offer…”

  Before he could take a step, rough, thin fingers caught the hem of his robe. “Be careful, please, Young Master,” she said.

  Hao nodded, “You can go home if you want. I will be there soon, with Meiqi.” He smiled. “Here, keep this safe.” He handed over the housing token he got from the Fifth Elder’s disciple; if nothing else, it would keep her safe.

  When he turned, the smile vanished, hoping the words he spoke weren’t a lie.