“I should be asking you,” Fan Yi quirked an eyebrow, though he still placed his hand warmly on the top of her head. “What are you doing here, A-Qing?”

Lǐ Qīng (李清) giggled as she followed Fan Yi down the room, but she pressed her lips together and didn’t respond. She simply hopped behind the desk and placed her hands onto the tabletop. “Shizun, do you have something to send out?”

Fan Yi looked at his little disciple without a smile on his face, but soon sighed and simply fished a letter out from his lapel. He placed it down on the table. “Send it to the Hall of Impartiality for me.”

“Yes, Shizun!” Li Qing happily took the letter towards the back room. A moment later, she returned with a sparrow that seemed multicolored under a certain type of lighting. She carefully wrote a protection ward on the back of the letter and slipped it into a tube before tying it to the bird’s leg. The tube seemed to be the size of the sparrow, yet when Li Qing opened the window and let it fly out, it flew as if there wasn’t even an extra weight on it.

Fan Yi watched the bird fly off safely before turning to his youngest disciple. “Where did Huá Ān’tíng (华安婷) go?”

“Hua-shijie said she had a meeting with the boy from the…” Li Qing’s voice trailed off. She glanced back at her shizun and closed the window. “Shizun, I heard from da-shixiong that you saved someone last night? How are they?”

Fan Yi held his eye contact with Li Qing for several seconds before finally looking away. “When she comes back, tell her to do handstands for an hour.”

“Yes, Shizun,” Li Qing chirped behind Fan Yi as he made his exit. Li Qing let out a sigh of relief and slumped down onto the table. At least the one that discovered it wasn’t Tian Xiewen. If he had learned that his own disciple snuck off to rendezvous with some unknown boy, who knows what his reaction would be.

On his way out, Fan Yi tossed back another: “You as well. You also have to be punished for helping your shijie lie.”

Li Qing’s expression puckered but she sighed. “This disciple understands.”

Fan Yi pushed open the doors left the hall. He made his way through the sect, turning a blind eye to the disciples lying on the ground.  The summer heat seared through Fan Yi’s robes, though it didn’t seem to affect him in anyway. He tugged up the collar of his under robe and stepped onto the zig-zagging bridge until he reached his estate. He glanced towards the guest courtyard and wandered in. He hesitated at the front of the door for a moment before he knocked. When there wasn’t a response, he pulled the door opened and stepped in.

He walked towards Wu Lingtian and bent down. His hand rested against the back of Wu Lingtian’s head and the furrow between his brow deepened. He sat down beside the man’s bed and watched him in silence.

The Wu Lingtian Fan Yi was familiar with was a man of few, direct words. His expression was distant and his voice was like freshly falling snow—beautiful yet tinged with coldness. Many compared him to a magnolia that managed to grow on the icy mountain tops, untouchable but beautiful because of its resilience. His hair was a dark black, similar to his eyes, while his skin too was smooth and jade-like. This, combined with his usual blood red attire, brought out the paleness of his skin more. However, he had never quite appeared unhealthy, only as if he was a pampered young master who was able to eat well and stay inside.

Now, Wu Lingtian slept peacefully on the bed. The stiff distance on his face was gone. The rose to his cheeks was also faded. He wore white sleeping robes and even his wrists were covered with the bandages. While he looked much more innocent and approachable, he looked almost like a lifeless doll without a hint of movement in his limbs.

Fan Yi carefully reached to check Wu Lingtian’s pulse, just to make sure he was still alive. He withdrew his hand and watched Wu Lingtian in silence again.

It felt silly. Even when Fan Yi was a child, he had never dumbly waited for anything like this. Even when his parents went off on missions, Fan Yi had always minded his own business until they came back, whether or not there was promise of presents.

Fan Yi carefully brushed back Wu Lingtian’s hair and rested his cheek against the palm of his hand.

“Yu Lan, when are you going to wake?” Fan Yi murmured.

Wu Lingtian showed no response, leaving Fan Yi in a room filled with silence.

Fan Yi let out a sigh. “Take your time. It was my fault for not hearing about it until so late. You have already done well holding on for so long. Rest awhile longer if you want. It must have been so hard on you.”

Fan Yi stood, his eyes still trained on Wu Lingtian. “I will take care of everything else until you wake. Li Ran won’t be able to get to you.”

One man stood over the other for a moment longer before turning his back and leaving the guest room. The door closed with a soft thud. The man lying on the bed remained silent, his breathing continued on in a steady rhythm, though he showed no signs of waking up.