Morning light entered through the bamboo cracks. The room still smelled of heavy sweat and the friction from dawn.
Near the cedar chest, Zhì Yuǎn tied the leather belt over his gray tunic. His breathing was heavy. The open pores on his skin worked on their own, pulling the cold morning moisture straight into his bones, cooling the heat of his internal furnace.
Sitting in the middle of the rumpled sheets, Yù Qíng hugged her knees. Her legs showed fresh bruises from the night before. She watched Zhì Yuǎn get dressed, and her jaw tightened.
— We're cultivators now, A-Yuǎn — she said. — Our flesh has expelled the biology of this village. It's a waste to go down to the forest today just to weigh coal for some bureaucrat in the main house.
Zhì Yuǎn slowly turned his body. A half-smile curved the corner of his lips as he looked at his wife.
— The agreement with your father still stands, Qíng. I weigh the sacks, shut the inspector's mouth, and keep the village quiet… — he took a step toward the edge of the bed, his broad shadow covering the girl — After all, he swallowed the scandal of his daughter and adopted son living as husband and wife before they were even married. I'm just paying the debt.
Yù Qíng's face flushed. She looked away and gripped the rumpled sheet tightly.
— It's not a scandal. You were adopted already half-grown. I've always known you were mine since the first day.
Zhì Yuǎn kept the half-smile and didn't reply. He simply extended his hand and lightly brushed his thumb across her chin.
— If I don't go down today, the noise from the village will reach here. And I won't let that happen.
The practical warning worked. Yù Qíng released the sheet. The instinct to keep their isolation locked away spoke louder than her disgust for the main house.
— I'm going with you.
She stood up and put on her simple blue cotton tunic. The memory of the dead cultivator staring at her by the river still weighed on her. Her new skin, clean and translucent, now drew too much attention.
She opened the drawer, pulled out a thick, dark piece of cloth, and wrapped it around her head. She covered her nose and the lower half of her face, tying it firmly at the nape of her neck. Only her eyes remained visible.
— No one in that square is going to drool over flesh that belongs to you — she said, her voice muffled by the cloth. She stopped beside his left arm. — Let's deal with the coal sacks.
Zhì Yuǎn looked at the improvised veil. The corner of his lips curved into a brief smile. Yù Qíng's decision to hide her face from the world just to keep her skin for him made his blood run hot.
He opened the cabin door, and the two stepped out of the bamboo grove.
---
The courtyard of the main house smelled of horse sweat and coal dust.
In the center of the yard, the imperial inspector held a scroll. Four guards in gray armor escorted him. A few steps away, Yù Chéng wiped his drenched neck with a cloth. The village chief's face was gray with exhaustion.
— Fifty sacks underweight — the inspector said, pointing his brush at the pile of jute. — The moisture soaked into the coal. The empire pays for fuel, Yù Chéng, and the water at the bottom of these sacks is useless for the furnaces.
Yù Chéng opened his mouth to explain. Zhì Yuǎn's deep voice cut through the courtyard before he could.
— Moisture expands the jute and loosens the sisal. These ropes are dry and tight.
Zhì Yuǎn crossed the space between the workers. Yù Qíng walked exactly one step behind him, the dark veil tied over her face.
He stopped in front of the massive iron scale. He raised his right hand and ran his thumb directly over the central axle. The thick rust gave way under the blind force of his finger and crumbled into the dirt.
— The axle is corroded — Zhì Yuǎn said. — The gear locks before the lead counterweight can descend. The sacks are the correct weight. The coal is dry.
Silence fell over the courtyard. Yù Chéng let out a long sigh of relief.
The inspector ignored the proof. He threw the bamboo scroll into an empty basket and kicked the iron base of the scale with his boot.
— I care little about the calibration of this machine — the official said, his demanding tone replaced by raw urgency. — The provincial ruler broke three days ago. The empire is bleeding in the east and the north. War has broken out on both fronts. The border furnaces demand fire, and the army demands endless fuel.
The official pointed his finger at Yù Chéng.
— Today's decree is one of war. Qīngshān will deliver double the original coal quota starting this week.
The color drained from Yù Chéng's face. He stepped back and leaned his weight against the jute sacks to keep from falling.
— Double?! — the old man choked. — Our galleries are already at their limit! We would need weeks to break even half of that from the stone!
The inspector climbed onto the brown horse one of the guards brought forward.
— The army doesn't know the time of stone, Yù Chéng. Prepare the sacks. Dig into the mountain with your nails if the pickaxe breaks.
He pulled on the reins, looking down from above.
— Deliver double before the end of the week. If the carts are empty, the regiment will descend into the valley and hang the village leadership from the trees in the square for treason.
The guards turned their horses. The procession galloped out of the main house.
Zhì Yuǎn remained motionless in the middle of the courtyard.
Behind him, Yù Qíng gripped her own skirt so tightly that her knuckles cracked. She glared at the official's back disappearing into the dust. That mortal trash was demanding the sweat of flesh that belonged only to her.
Zhì Yuǎn turned his body. He ignored the useless scale and walked toward the large water barrel in the corner of the yard to wash his hand. Yù Qíng followed him immediately, glued to his shadow.
In the shade of the kitchen veranda, Yù Méi watched everything.
She clutched a dirty clay bowl covered in flour between her calloused hands. The teenager had run to the back as soon as the imperial horses echoed through the area. The anger over her brother-in-law and sister's isolation in recent weeks burned on the tip of her tongue, ready to turn into a shout.
But her voice dried in her throat.
Far from the raised dust, Zhì Yuǎn and Yù Qíng stood under the direct midday sun.
The light struck Zhì Yuǎn directly. The young man's skin had lost the tanned, cracked, and dark leather of the mountain. It was pale, smooth, and heavy. The air around his broad body shimmered in a suffocating way, continuously pulled into a vacuum through the pores that devoured the wind of the courtyard.
Behind him, Yù Qíng raised a hand to adjust her dark veil. The exposed fingers of the eldest daughter had not a single callus or trace of dirt. Her posture was cold and calm, as if the village's desperation didn't touch her.
Yù Méi looked at her own hands, rough and covered in flour. She looked at her father, trembling with sweat and fear against the coal sacks. The smell of sludge, smoke, and submission reeked throughout the main house.
The couple standing near the water barrel no longer belonged to that world. The biological discrepancy was brutal and obvious to the naked eye.
The clay bowl slipped from the girl's fingers.
The object struck the veranda floor, shattering and scattering flour across the dark planks.
The dry crack cut through the corner of the courtyard. Zhì Yuǎn slowly turned his face toward the veranda. Yù Qíng followed the movement, driving her cold black eyes above the veil directly at her younger sister.
Yù Méi swallowed hard. Her heart hammered violently against her ribs. The girl's eyes were unable to look away. In the middle of all this soot, the couple stood by the water with a cold, predatory, and overwhelming perfection. They no longer belonged to the same species.
---
The walk back to the eastern bamboo grove was closely followed by hurried footsteps. Yù Méi had tracked the couple from the square, ignoring the flour on her own skirt and Sū Huì's shouts from the kitchen.
When Zhì Yuǎn crossed the threshold of the cabin and Yù Qíng turned to close the bamboo door, the youngest's dirty hands pressed against the wood. She forced her way inside.
— You're not going to lock me out again — Yù Méi's voice came out strained, her chest rising and falling quickly. She glared at her sister's pale face and her brother-in-law's broad back. — You disappeared for weeks. What did you do to your own bodies?
Yù Qíng released the door, allowing her sister to stumble inside. The room exhaled a thick, musky heat. Zhì Yuǎn walked to the small table and sat down.
— We forced the world's energy into our veins — Yù Qíng said flatly. — The shock widened the channels and rebuilt our flesh.
Yù Méi swallowed hard. The realization that the abyss between them was a mechanical process, something that could be imitated, ignited a predatory hunger in the girl. She ignored the smell of the room and stepped forward, grabbing Yù Qíng's cold wrists.
— Teach me — the teenager demanded, her eyes shining. — Let me do the same! I can endure the pain.
Yù Qíng slid her hands downward, freeing herself from the dirty grip, and looked at her husband.
Zhì Yuǎn dissected the girl's posture from head to toe.
— The paths beneath your ribs are torn, Méi — he said, his rustic voice falling heavily in the room. — There are entire pieces of meridians missing between your lungs and your abdomen. The channels are shattered. If you pull the wind inside, the air leaks through the internal holes before forming any foundation.
The impact of his words stole the teenager's breath. Yù Méi fell to her knees on the bamboo floor with a dull thud. Her hands dropped limply onto her skirt. Her chin trembled in a brutal effort to hold back salty tears of anger and humiliation.
— But the thick energy we forged in our blood has the weight to fix what's missing — Zhì Yuǎn continued, his unshakeable tone cutting through her despair. — It's pure enough to weld your torn paths and create new bridges.
Yù Méi aggressively wiped her face with the back of her flour-covered hand. The crying dried instantly.
— It's just that we just broke open our own structure — he explained. — Our control over Qi is still violent. If I push the raw force of my blood against your chest right now, the temperature will boil your veins and kill you in three heartbeats. You'll have to wait.
Yù Qíng stopped beside his shoulder.
— We're in the dark with our own power — the eldest said. — We need ancient scrolls. Running tests on your torn flesh without knowledge will shatter all three of us in the process.
Zhì Yuǎn nodded.
— In a few weeks, we're going to Qīngshí — he said. — The markets there have auctions and ancient cultivation archives. But before renting any cart, the family has a quota of two thousand coal sacks to deliver. I'm going down into the mountain galleries tomorrow morning. My vision can find pure veins in the stone. We'll meet the army's quota and secure the village first.
Yù Méi sniffled and stood up from the floor. Her jaw clenched. She lifted her pointed chin.
— I'm going with you to Qīngshí.
Zhì Yuǎn held the stubborn gaze of his sister-in-law. Leaving the girl behind with torn veins, away from his eyes, was a waste. If he was going to fix her life, Yù Méi would have to march glued to his shadow.
— Pack your clothes when the time comes — he agreed.
The sentence had barely ended when Yù Qíng advanced. The eldest grabbed the fabric on Yù Méi's shoulder, yanked the teenager in one motion, and threw her out of the cabin. The youngest stumbled and fell onto the bamboo veranda.
— Then go sort your clothes in the main house and stop wasting our air — Yù Qíng said.
The heavy wooden log crashed against the door with a dry thud, locking Yù Méi outside.
The midday sun burned outside, but the bamboo room sank into shadow.
Yù Qíng turned her back to the locked door. Her fingers pulled the knot at her nape and the dark veil fell to the floor. Then she untied the knot at her waist. The blue dress slipped from her shoulders and collapsed around her bare feet.
She walked naked toward her husband.
Yù Qíng stopped a palm's width from Zhì Yuǎn's chest. The girl's short nails dug into his gray tunic, twisting the linen with force. She yanked his broad body against her cold belly in a non-negotiable motion.
— You said you need to grind a lot more of our energy until you can control the gold without killing her — her voice came out low, sharp, and literal. — So use my body to train.
Zhì Yuǎn looked into his wife's dark eyes. Her possessiveness was absolute. She would rather be destroyed in bed than let her sister interfere with their plans.
A short, dry smile pulled at the corner of his lips.
— Quite the sudden kindness — Zhì Yuǎn murmured, his voice thick and drawn out, overflowing with cynicism. — Using your sister as an excuse just to lock me in the room during the day.
Yù Qíng's face flushed instantly. Having her own possessiveness read so easily struck the girl's vanity, but stubbornness swallowed the shame. She ignored the provocation and lifted her chin.
— The day has barely begun, A-Yuǎn — she whispered, her hips pushing against his thigh. — The furnace won't cool down.
Zhì Yuǎn's heavy hands grabbed his wife's bare waist. He lifted her off the ground in one motion and threw her onto her back against the straw bed.
The bamboo floor cracked loudly under the weight of the fall. Zhì Yuǎn climbed on top of her and drove his hips forward. The dense, brutal friction resumed in the darkness of the room, the gears of flesh grinding heat and cold without mercy to forge the pure energy they needed.