Ye Tian’s hands pressed over every inch of skin on He Bang’s body. He Bang lay with her eyes closed, feeling her own meridians gradually clear and open. Ye Tian had gently sealed a number of the major acupoints, fearing the newly restored heart would not be able to withstand such blood pressure. After pressing away for half a day, Ye Tian’s own waist, back, and hands were aching with cramped exhaustion. He Bang watched her pressing here and there all over her own body, and a faint bluish-purple light welled up in her eyes — clear and translucent as gemstones. Ye Tian could not abide her seductive expression, and immediately exploded: “Senior Brother isn’t even here, so who exactly are you putting on that alluring show for?!”

Without Rong Chen Zi present, He Bang was sensible enough not to provoke her — she simply closed her eyes to rest and recuperate. With no one to fight, Ye Tian had no choice but to put her head down and continue pressing He Bang’s major acupoints all over.

A short while later, Rong Chen Zi returned. Having washed and freshened up, he was considerably more spirited. Qingxuan brought several small dishes of plain congee to the outer bedchamber; Rong Chen Zi ate first before going in to relieve Ye Tian. Ye Tian rose, and worried He Bang might be cold, she covered everything she had been pressing with a thin blanket. She put on her shoes and stepped down from the couch. Rong Chen Zi sat at the edge of the couch and rolled back his sleeves again. As he cast his gaze downward, he met He Bang’s eyes. He gave a quiet cough and looked away: “Is your breathing comfortable?”

He Bang promptly opened her mouth wide and prepared to draw in a great deep breath. Rong Chen Zi quickly pressed down on her chest: “Don’t! Do it slowly.”

He Bang glanced at him and carefully drew in two small breaths. Rong Chen Zi’s heart eased slightly: “Good. You mustn’t move for the next few days.”

He Bang nodded, then immediately cast a glance at his hand. Only then did Rong Chen Zi notice that his palm was still resting atop that soft, warm mound. He slowly withdrew his hand and spoke to cover the awkwardness: “Would you like some water?”

He Bang nodded. He rose and poured her a cup of water. Qingxuan was very thoughtful — beside the water jug, he had also placed two packets of granulated sugar. Rong Chen Zi added a spoonful of sugar to the water. He Bang took a sip. Her eyes shone bright as pearls, her lips as vivid as cherry blossoms: “Zhiguan — may I have one more spoonful of sugar?”

Rong Chen Zi sighed, but in the end added another spoonful for her.

What followed was a period of necessary rest. He Bang was already too exhausted to bear it, and Rong Chen Zi was naturally no better off. Ye Tian finished eating and returned to her own room as well. Rong Chen Zi took He Bang’s pulse once more, then tucked her in properly: “I’ll be right outside. Call if you need anything — don’t shout too loudly, and don’t move around carelessly.”

He Bang curled five fingers around the hem of his robe, her gaze soft and luminous: “Can’t you just sleep here?”

Rong Chen Zi shook out his sleeves and rose: “Men and women must observe proper decorum.”

He Bang wrinkled her delicate nose: “But before, weren’t you also—”

Rong Chen Zi was calm and resolute: “That was in the past. Whatever bond was between us has long been severed. This poor Daoist saves you now only because I extended the invitation first. Rest well.” Looking at He Bang lying motionless on the couch, he finally softened his tone: “But I will care for you until your injuries are fully healed. You need not worry. Once you have recovered, wherever you wish to go, this poor Daoist will no longer interfere.”

He Bang released his hem. She closed her eyes. Her long lashes swept down, as delicate as a crystal doll: “Alright then.”

Rong Chen Zi made every effort to avert his gaze. He felt his own level of cultivation was truly still insufficient — after years of upholding the Dao, he was still susceptible to the lure of appearances, to the pink-powdered skeleton of desire.

The inner chamber was silent. Rong Chen Zi lay on the broad luohan bed. His body was thin and spent beyond measure. He closed his eyes — though he kept one ear attuned to any movement from He Bang in the inner chamber — but in the end could not resist sinking into a deep sleep. The air circulation in the inner chamber was poor, and the oil lamps could not burn for long. Rong Chen Zi had left only a very small one lit.

He Bang turned her head sideways and stared at the lamp flickering like a bean of light against the wall. In a daze, turbid waves surged around her; many people were running — she had fallen to the ground, her knees scraped open by sharp stones, blood quickly dissolving into the wind and waves. Someone pulled her to her feet. She could still feel the bone-piercing pain. Someone dragged her along with desperate force: “Pan’er, quickly — run! Don’t cry, if you cry you’ll be eaten!”

Gradually the scene shifted to a clear river. Someone clung hard to her sleeve: “Senior Sister, don’t abandon me — Senior Brother! Please, please don’t leave me!” Innumerable monsters with bloodshot eyes — the exquisite face from her memory was torn to shreds, blood spreading through the flowing water. That small and delicate hand was still clutching her sleeve. Gradually even the sound of weeping faded from her ears. That small hand was torn away, the five long and lovely fingers still gripping her sleeve, the severed end bone-white as snow.

In those days, her senior brother was still there. Three young water creatures concealing themselves within the clan to find food had a sudden clash with another group of water creatures over food. Zhangteng and He Pan had both been injured, and the hungry water creatures caught the scent of fresh blood. Between the two junior sisters, he could only protect one — he chose He Pan, and abandoned the younger one, Zhangteng.

He Pan curled herself tightly into a ball, watching as the water creatures swarmed forward — the fragile Zhangteng was quickly reduced to nothing but a blur of blood and gore. In the dream, someone held her hand and kept on running, yet that mass of blood and flesh seemed to seep deep into the water and become embedded in her very life. There were cries and moans of pain — but no tears. Water-born creatures live their whole lives in water. What they can shed is only blood, never tears.

From that time on, she would sometimes lower her head without thinking and brush lightly at her own sleeve — as though in a faint trance she could still see that small and lovely hand, and the jagged white bone of the severed end.

Rong Chen Zi dimly heard her crying. He jolted awake from his dream and turned his ear to listen — sure enough, there was an extremely faint sound. He rose in haste. The lamplight in the inner chamber was dim. He Bang seemed to be in the grip of a nightmare, her breathing growing more and more labored. Rong Chen Zi hurriedly pressed down on both her shoulders to keep her from moving. Her chest rose and fell violently. Rong Chen Zi rubbed her chest and softly called to her. She pressed against his shoulder, tears falling like rain: “Why did you try to kill me? I never stopped you from being with her — I never wronged her.” Her sobs grew louder and louder. Her two hands gripped Rong Chen Zi’s wrists tightly: “Chunyu Lin — I’m in so much pain, so much pain!”

Rong Chen Zi formed a hand seal to calm her soul and spirit. Once she had quieted, he pulled the shark-silk cloth over her lips, and through the fine silk breathed his own breath into her. After roughly more than ten times, she finally opened her eyes and looked at Rong Chen Zi, still somewhat confused: “Why did you come sneak a kiss from me?”

Rong Chen Zi’s face flushed red. He set the shark-silk cloth on her pillow, stood up, and said softly: “Just now, you were crying.”

He Bang raised an eyebrow: “No I wasn’t!” She laboriously lifted her hand and touched her own cheek. Then she shouted in startled outrage: “Rong Chen Zi, you are so terrible! I only dozed off for a moment — not only did you sneak a kiss, you also splashed water all over my face!”

Rong Chen Zi did not argue. He tucked the corner of her blanket in properly. He Bang grew somewhat uncertain: “Old Daoist — did I really cry?”

Rong Chen Zi kept his eyes focused inward, answering in a single syllable: “Yes.”

He Bang let out a soft sigh, then felt her stomach and said with deep feeling: “Then I must be very, very hungry.”

Rong Chen Zi sat down at the edge of the couch, his voice calm and unruffled: “You still can’t eat anything. Would you like some water?”

He Bang shook her head. She closed her eyes again: “I’m so terribly tired too — I want to sleep a little more.”

Rong Chen Zi said nothing further. Her breathing gradually grew shallow, and she sank once more into deep sleep. Her sleeping face was as serene as the deep sea. Rong Chen Zi used the shark-silk cloth to gently wipe the traces of moisture from her cheeks. After a long while, he leaned forward with his arms on the edge of the bed, and soon drifted into sleep himself.