Ai Mingxia awoke lying down shrouded by water, soaking wet.

Mind still blurry, she made a valiant effort to stand up, only to topple over halfway there as a tsunami of dizziness crashed into her. Lying on her back, she glared at the bright lights dappling the ceiling, partly obscured by a hodgepodge of ever-scintillating black dots.

Distantly, she could hear the sound of knocking. Her headache pounding against her skull? Annoying. Too loud. She squeezed her eyes shut and curled into a ball, bringing her hands up to his head and digging the heel of a clammy palm into her temples. Her eyes were crusty at the edges, mouth and throat painfully dry despite all the water. She was painfully aware of the feeling of her hair pasted to her cheeks and her clothing plastered against her.

What the fuck was going on? 

She focused hard, ignoring the unrelenting throbbing inside her head and the ever-present knocking sound. 

Blood. But that is in near all her memories.

A blurry scape of grey and green and red…

And then someone was touching her. 

Cold fingers skimmed across her forehead, gently pulling her wrists away from her head. Despite herself, Ai Mingxia relaxed into the touch.

And then it was gone, and her eyes flew open at record speed and her lips parted to complain. 

Concerned blue eyes, at a ninety-degree angle, centimetres from her face. Ai Mingxia blinked so the image in front of her would come into focus.

Blue eyes with the sky in them framed with long black lashes, brows furrowed with a worried little wrinkle within them, black circles underlying them. Thin lips pressed together hard. Ai Mingxia almost wanted to reach out and touch her thumb to the corner of her mouth until they parted 

“Liu Xiuying. Do you feel better now?” The voice rang in her ears.

A twinge of pain flitted across her heart, like a mockery of a heartbeat. Of course. It wasn’t Qi Niao. And she would want nothing to do with her anyways. Wouldn’t care about her wellbeing. Wouldn’t nurse her back to health.

Wait. Si Ma Zhilian.

Why would Si Ma Zhilian be helping Liu Xiuying? And how had she found here anyways?

Another sharp pang of pain lashed through her brain. Wincing, she questioned. “What am I doing here?” She frowned when her voice turned out scratchier and weaker than she had intended. Ai Mingxia hadn’t been able to speak easily in her own body, and now she couldn’t even in this one!

“You were dying. I’m healing you,” Qi Ni — No, not her, Si Ma Zhilian replied simply, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Was this another trick to do whatever she had done to Liu Xiuying the first time again? Nursing her back from the brink of death to hurt her again? Maybe Si Ma Zhilian had some sick sort of possessiveness and wanted to be the one to end her? Death by a thousand cuts? Or maybe she wasn’t really healing her? It was better than death, but she didn’t feel healed. 

More black spots erupted, dancing over Si Ma Zhilian’s face. Ai Mingxia forced herself up by sheer willpower along, meeting little resistance as she pushed her face away. She made it only a few steps before she tripped over her own feet and into the water again as a pathetic pile. How pitiful. 

A groan escaping her, she fought valiantly to stay conscious, beating back the pain. Where were her weapons? Taoyun and the knives? Nausea rose in her throat alongside the panic in her heart. Si Ma Zhilian must’ve seen the body as well, the blood —

She must’ve seen the rot. 

Shit.

The thought clanged in her head, knocking against the sides of her skull. She groaned again, sinking deeper into herself. Shit. Shit. Shit. She’d blown it. She’d fought her way into a second life and she’d fucking blown it.

Shit! To one of the people who had done something so cruel to Liu Xiuying she couldn’t even bear to write it down in a letter someone would only read after she was dead. 

And fuck! The woman had killed herself, and for what damn reason? Ai Mingxia would’ve killed her anyway, and either way her business was doomed. Fuck. Ai Mingxia should’ve cut the woman's arms off. Fuck. 

Ai Mingxia buried her head into her knees. Even with her pounding headache, she could distantly feel a deceptively patient, serene gaze on her back. 

“Are you alright…?” 

“No,” she could vaguely feel herself mumbling. She clearly was not. Ai Mingxia made a fist and hit at the water under her, like a child. The water splashed up and splattered her harmlessly, but it only contributed to her somehow-increasing headache. She shut her eyes tight.

And why was Si Ma Zhilian being like this? For fuck’s sake, if she was going to do some other heinous thing she might as well be obvious about it. What had she even done to Liu Xiuying in the first place, goddamnit? Polite as she was, Si Ma Zhilian was still someone’s who’s actions had pushed Liu Xiuying off the cliff, driving her to summon Ai Mingxia! To be at Si Ma Zhilian’s mercy…

Ai Mingxia could feel herself groaning again. Fuck. Maybe Si Ma Zhilian was going to hold saving her over her head forever. No, that would be too tame. She would — 

A hand on her shoulder. Ai Mingxia stiffened. Raising a hand with all her strength to pry them off, she could only feel them tighten. Had it already begun?

A click of the tongue. So familiar that Ai Mingxia almost forgot where she was. “You’re not well. Go back to sleep. You’ll be better soon, I promise.”

How polite. How deceptive. How threatening. Shadows lurked in those words, she could tell —

The dark consumed her.

When she blinked herself awake again, the headache had lessened, but it still felt as though there was a monster between her bones. It was bad, but she’d had worse. She bought a sweaty palm to her forehead as if it would help. Weakly, she reached to her side. She had forgotten, but the second knife had been hidden there. 

It was gone. 

It had been a hope she hadn’t expected to be fulfilled, but she still felt a groan, hoarse and raspy, escape her. She hadn’t registered it before, but her cloak was gone as well. And where was Taoyun? 

Suddenly, she could hear the sound of something being poured. Against the silence of the rest of whatever she was in, it was painfully loud. At least the sound didn’t ring. 

Ai Mingxia shot up into a sitting position, forcing herself up like a puppet on a string. She was met with the sight of a bare white-coloured room, a bamboo door, and a thin, light red back. If only she had her knife. Maybe she could’ve caught her by surprise. Just what was Si Ma Zhilian thinking, turning her back to somebody whom she had wronged? Albeit, she was weaponless and sickened, but nevertheless. And not to mention continuing to live with Liu Xiuying —

Ai Mingxia sighed. She’d have to chalk it up to some sick sort of possessiveness, then. She didn’t have time to ponder on it in peace — well, as much peace she could have in a situation like this — before the red-garbed girl was turning around and striding towards her, large blue bowl in hand.

Her eyes were half-closed and relaxed as if it was a perfectly normal day between two roommates. And they were pretty. Very pretty.

Maybe she was still delirious.

“Oh, hello. You’re up.” Ai Mingxia blinked once and said nothing. There was a strange pause before the red-garbed girl handed the bowl, a spoon slipped in it, to her. “Here, I made congee.” 

And what was with her love of fucking congee? Just like fucking Yang Yun and Lan Tao and Lian Guang and the rest of them —

It didn’t matter. Si Ma Zhilian’s love of congee wasn’t something she should be worried about right now. Would it be poisoned? The bowl Si Ma Zhilian had all but threatened her to eat hadn’t been, but that was when they were dining together, and who knew whether all the other times she offered had been poisoned or not? Would Si Ma Zhilian save her from the brink of death only to poison her again? Or maybe she was already poisoned? It was easy to force food into somebody who had fallen unconscious screaming. 

Logically, it shouldn’t be fatal, but that didn’t mean Ai Mingxia was going to eat it. Fucking Si Ma Zhilian and her mind games.

And those mind games were going to be the end of her. So long as Ai Mingxia was alive, no matter how many mental prisons she was trapped in, she’d keep going at her. Mind games weren’t worth it. Ai Mingxia had learnt that with the green-clad woman.

She had just been trying to distract herself from —

Another sharp pang of pain lanced through her head, searing into her skull. Forcing herself to not react, she stared straight down at the congee. There wasn’t the sour tang of corpse-power-healing rice, nor was there any visible signs of poison. Well. Of course not. Who would make poison obvious?

Your brother, that’s who, a traitorous voice whispered at the back of her mind. In her deliriousness, Ai Mingxia slapped her cheek and regretted it instantly. What the fuck? Since when had Liu Xiuying’s body been so strong? It stung. And now that she had calmed down, she realised she was really cold. Not only was she sitting in water, somehow, she probably had a fever or something of the sort as well.

Si Ma Zhilian stared at her expectantly, somehow not seeming as though she was judging her at all. More mind games. 

Ai Mingxia cautiously picked up the spoon and scooped up a miniscule bit of congee. Looking satisfied, Si Ma Zhilian smiled. “Should I make some tea, too?”

Ai Mingxia felt another sudden prick of pain and tipped the contents of the bowl into the shallow water. The rice particles floated innocuously, while the water was tainted white. Ah. She hadn’t meant to do that. 

Si Ma Zhilian sighed. “Why do you dislike congee so?” The tone was teasing, almost friendly, but Ai Mingxia could barely stop herself from stiffening on cue. She had to get out of whatever room this was, and away from Si Ma Zhilian, as soon as she could. Where even was this?

She realised she was muttering out loud. A faint look of hurt played on Si Ma Zhilian’s face. Another look of dismay and disappointment. “The second floor of our house, remember? If you want to be out of here so bad, you can leave now. You’re not on the brink of death, and I’m not holding you captive.”

She might as well be, Ai Mingxia hissed mentally, clamping a hand over her mouth to make sure she didn’t speak aloud again. Even if it was a lie, it couldn’t be much better than being here, and Si Ma Zhilian had already established that she didn’t want anything else to kill Liu Xiuying. Standing up, the bowl still in hand, she winced at the spasm of pain that reverberated through her legs and skull. 

As she stepped out of the shallow pool of water, trying hard not to stumble, the taller, brown-haired girl opened the door to show the familiar walls of what was indeed their house. “By the way, I put your knives and spear outside your room.” A pause. “I know what you’re like, but please take care of yourself and rest a bit more. I understand why you’d want to leave, but you’re still weak right now.” 

She ‘understood’, huh? Her tone was so placating that it somehow reached new levels of threatening. Without me, you’d be dead. Rest easy so I can hurt you more.

Nevertheless, Ai Mingxia was surprised that she’d returned the weapons. She’d probably spelled them to not work on her. Ai Mingxia, still nursing the throbbing pain in her head and having to use a staggering amount of strength to slowly hobble down the stairs and to her room, kept her ears peeled in case Si Ma Zhilian decided to try something. She doubted she would, but it was always possible.

Grabbing her weapons, she blasted into the room at record speed and shut it tight, locking it behind her. It was probably a bad move to grab the possibly tampered-with weapons without thinking, but right now, desperation and deliriousness were leading her by a leash. As soon as she did, she sunk into the ground and threw all the weapons across the room. Away from Si Ma Zhilian’s searching presence, her breaths quickened until they became pants.

Why hadn’t she drawn an array to guard her room? Sure, the doors already had incantations written into them, but who knew if Si Ma Zhilian was able to bypass them. She’d assumed not earlier, but it was still a precaution she should’ve taken. To be fair, her arrays would probably be weaker than the door incantations, but she could’ve at least drawn one to alert her. Why hadn’t she? She had relied too much on her instincts and had too much faith in herself.

Just like she had with the green-clad woman.

Ai Mingxia sighed. She was trying to think about it rationally, but the thoughts were blaring in her head alongside her already dizzying headache. What if she’d lost her chance at another life already? And the rot! Si Ma Zhilian had seen the rot!
She pressed a cool, wet hand back to her forehead. She had to look at it rationally. Si Ma Zhilian probably wasn’t able to recognize the rot as well as link it to the soul-sacrificing curse. It was small enough that it didn’t look that strange, and it looked similar to other, less serious curses. She didn’t have centuries of knowledge to link it to that, right? The soul-sacrificing curse was both obscure and forbidden: how had Liu Xiuying gotten her hands on it anyway? And though the woman had been the one to kill herself, it had still, in the end, been Ai Mingxia’s hand that held the knife. 

She was grasping at chances… But she’d done so all her lives. And besides, what else could she do? Roll over and die without even a fight?

Her breaths slowed, and her headache even seemed to decrease slightly. She’d think about her problems later when she was clearer of mind. To act now was risky, even for the problems she could currently contribute to dealing with. If she tried to draw the array now, she’d probably mess it up, and she might stab herself if she tried to investigate the weapons. 

And unfortunately, Si Ma Zhilian had been right. It took all her strength to shuffle across the room and onto her bed. Instantly, she collapsed.

How many times had she done that in the past few hours?

It didn’t matter. She was alive, even if it was only to the sick whims of Si Ma Zhilian.

She closed her eyes, and fell into a restful if fitful sleep.