The 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, sucking the cold morning moisture straight into his bones, cooling the heat of the internal furnace.
Sitting in the middle of the wrinkled sheets, Yù Qíng hugged her knees. Her legs showed fresh bruises from the night. She watched Zhì Yuǎn get dressed, and her jaw locked.
— 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 at the big 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 to the edge of the bed, his broad body's shadow covering the girl — After all, he swallowed the scandal of his adopted son and daughter 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 wrinkled sheet tightly.
— It's not a scandal at all. You were adopted when you were already grown. I always knew you were mine from the very 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 village noise will reach us here. And I won't let that happen.
The practical warning worked. Yù Qíng released the sheet. The instinct to keep their isolation sealed tight spoke louder than her disgust for the big house.
— I'm going with you.
She stood up and put on a 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 short smile. Yù Qíng's decision to hide her face from the world just to keep her skin for him made his blood boil.
He opened the cabin door, and the two stepped out of the bamboo grove.
The courtyard of the big house smelled of horse sweat and coal dust.
In the center of the yard, the imperial inspector held a scroll. Four gray-armored guards escorted him. A few steps away, Yù Chéng rubbed his drenched nape 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. — 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 speak.
— 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 around 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 mechanism locks before the lead counterweight descends. The sacks have 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 crude 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 mounted the brown horse that 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 fingernails 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 come down to the valley and hang the village leadership from the trees in the square for treason.
The guards turned their horses. The entourage galloped out of the big 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 disappearing back in 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 at the same moment, glued to his shadow.
In the shadow of the kitchen veranda, Yù Méi watched everything.
She clutched a clay bowl stained with flour between her calloused hands. The teenager had run to the back as soon as the imperial horses echoed. The anger at her brother-in-law and sister isolating themselves for the past few weeks burned on the tip of her tongue, ready to turn into a scream.
But her voice dried in her throat.
Far from the rising dust, Zhì Yuǎn and Yù Qíng stood under the direct midday sun.
The light hit Zhì Yuǎn directly. The young man's skin had lost the tanned, cracked, and dark leather of the mountain. It was now pale, smooth, and heavy. The air around his broad body shimmered in a suffocating way, pulled in a continuous vacuum into the pores that devoured the wind from the yard.
Behind him, Yù Qíng raised her hand to adjust the dark veil. The exposed fingers of the eldest had not a single callus or trace of dirt. Her posture was cold and calm, as if the village's despair didn't touch her.
Yù Méi looked at her own hands, rough and stained with flour. She looked at her father, trembling with sweat and fear, leaning against the coal sacks. The smell of sludge, smoke, and submission poisoned the big 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, fixing her cold black eyes above the veil directly on her younger sister.
Yù Méi swallowed dryly. Her heart hammered violently against her ribs. The girl's eyes were unable to look away. In the middle of all that soot, the couple stood by the water with a cold, predatory, and crushing perfection. They no longer belonged to the same species.
The walk back to the eastern bamboo grove was followed closely by hurried footsteps. Yù Méi 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 cabin threshold 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 locking 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 dryly. 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 handle 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 pathways beneath your ribs are broken, Méi — he said, his rustic voice dropping heavily into the room. — There are entire pieces of veins 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 the words stole the teenager's breath. Yù Méi dropped to her knees on the bamboo floor with a dull thud. Her hands fell 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 unwavering tone cutting through her despair. — It's pure enough to weld your torn pathways and create new bridges.
Yù Méi aggressively wiped her face with the back of her flour-stained hand. The tears dried instantly.
— It's just that we've only just broken 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. Testing on your torn flesh without knowledge will shatter all three of us in the process.
Zhì Yuǎn nodded.
— In a few weeks, we'll go 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'll go 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 raised her pointed chin.
— I'm going with you to Qīngshí.
Zhì Yuǎn held his sister-in-law's stubborn gaze. Leaving the girl behind with broken 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 finished 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 at the big house and stop wasting our air — Yù Qíng said.
The heavy wooden bar crashed against the door with a dry thud, locking Yù Méi outside.
The midday sun burned outside, but the bamboo room plunged into dimness.
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 undid the tie at her waist. The blue dress slipped off her shoulders and collapsed around her bare feet.
She walked naked toward her husband.
Yù Qíng stopped one palm's width from Zhì Yuǎn's chest. The girl's short nails sank into his gray tunic, twisting the linen with force. She yanked the man's broad body against her cold belly in a non-negotiable jolt.
— You said you need to grind our energy much more before 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 at once. Having her own possessiveness read so easily struck the girl's vanity, but her stubbornness swallowed the shame. She ignored the provocation and raised her chin.
— The day has barely begun, A-Yuǎn — she whispered, her hips pushing against his thigh. — The furnace won't cool.
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 creaked 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 crushing heat and cold without mercy to forge the pure energy they needed.