With trembling fingers, the brush hovered millimeters above the paper. His head still felt like it was wrapped in cotton wool, and if he moved too much, his limbs ached.
Tian Liu Yan put the brush aside. Xinxin had ruined most of his transcripts when she had filled the holes and cracks in his room.
He didn't remember much of what had happened after she had carried him back. There had been a lot of pain, but also a touch of warmth that he had clung to.
He watched the snow melt under the strengthening sun and the drops pass by his windows. He hadn't left his room since the incident. The Zhao family moved as if on broken glass. Something was in the air, and he didn't want to disturb the fragile structure.
Xinxin had taken it upon herself to care for him. She brought him food at irregular intervals when she could get hold of it and nursed him with medicine she made from dried herbs.
He placed his hands on the tabletop. He felt weak. The fever had burned him inside and his recovery was slow. It was a miracle that he had survived Zhao Hua's tantrum at all.
He looked outside; spring was approaching and the first birds were returning. Soon it would be warmer again. There was a knock at the door. Tian Liu Yan continued to look outside without saying a word. His voice had suffered and now sounded hoarse and rough.
A fine, thin, red line had appeared around his neck, and sometimes it itched so badly that he couldn't stop scratching. Then Xinxin had to hold him down, and miraculously, that helped.
When she held his hands and talked to him, he actually calmed down a little. The door opened and Xinxin scurried inside. She untied the bag from her hip and took out some rice balls, which she placed on the table in front of him.
He reached for them while Xinxin sat down and also looked out the window. They sat silently next to each other. After a while, Xinxin sighed heavily and turned to him.
"Tomorrow, the family will travel to the imperial palace," she said. Liu Yan looked up briefly, but then just shrugged. It had been made clear to him that he should never return, so it was none of his concern.
"Zhao Huan and Prince Weiye will publicly announce their engagement," she added.
She watched him eat for a while.
"Won't Li Wangxi be terribly angry when he finds out?" she asked him. Liu Yan shrugged again.
"What can he do? Oppose the emperor?" Liu Yan replied, looking at her briefly as if he couldn't believe her stupidity. Xinxin ignored his bad mood.
"He's a highly gifted general and a gifted talent. If he ever realizes how much power he has with the part of the army he controls, it could get uncomfortable for your father," she pointed out. Liu Yan laughed dryly and had to suppress a slight coughing fit.
"That big dog is too stupid for that," he replied. Xinxin remained silent.
She didn't think much of Li Wangxi either; he had had plenty of opportunities to change things, yet he had turned a blind eye. She just nodded.
Tian Liu Yan picked up the brush again and carefully placed it on the paper. Now it was easier for him to put character after character on the parchment and write down the family rules he already knew by heart.
His gaze fell on Xinxin, who was lounging on the table and staring out through a hole in the window front. She was watching the servants scurrying back and forth, and Liu Yan was watching her.
He found icy coldness in supposed beauty and warmth in something he had found ugly. He looked at the paper as Xinxin turned to him.
As she did almost every evening, she kept him company for a while before sneaking off to the servants' dormitory late at night.
Tonight, too, the moon was high in the sky, and Liu Yan had made two scrolls of parchment with transcripts before she said goodbye and left.
Although they hardly spoke to each other, it was precisely this kind of mutual silence that gave him the stability he needed at the moment to keep from completely losing his mind.
He hesitated briefly when Xinxin opened the door and slumped his shoulders as she closed it behind her. Her footsteps receded, and another day had passed without him being able to bring himself to thank her.
Every time he came close to doing so, it felt as if he were exposing his sensitive innermost self and opening it up to be pierced with a knife.
Besides, she didn't seem to expect any thanks; she didn't demand it and didn't behave any more distantly toward him than usual. Only her smile had disappeared.
Sometimes he saw it flash briefly in her eyes, but then it disappeared. Like a brief spark that burned out. Zhao Huan had taken her laughter away in just a few hours, or it had been the straw that broke the camel's back.
He didn't know and he wasn't going to ask. For now, it was enough for them to sit together at a table and remain silent.
***
He spent most of the next day alone in his room, as usual. He could hear the hustle and bustle outside as everything was being prepared for the journey.
The sun sparkled and slowly melted the last remnants of snow on the windowsill. The sky was cloudless and bright blue. It should have been a beautiful day.
Zhao Hua would not be back for a while, and he could relax in peace. But he was restless all day. Not only did the copying not work again today, he also had a constant ringing in his ears and his stomach rebelled at every quick movement.
It felt as if his insides were turned inside out, and he was alternately overcome by bouts of fever and chills.
As lunchtime passed and the afternoon drew to a close, it got worse and worse. Like a threatening wall and dark, ill-willed karma that he couldn't penetrate.
Liu Yan put aside the brush he had been clinging to so persistently and looked outside. He knew who could help him, who would make him feel better. Zhao Hua's absence emboldened him, so when evening dawned, he finally got up with determination and left his tiny room.
The fresh wind blew against him and caressed his sensitive skin. The cold soothed the waves of nausea within him. The refreshing wind blew through his black hair, which he wore loose, and under his clothes.
He had put on the thin robe with the bamboo print again, saving the white robe with the blue scarf for special occasions. Who knew when someone would be gracious enough to give him something again?
He ran across the damp sidewalk and wet grass, where remnants of snow still stubbornly clung, when a dull noise caught his attention.
Just as he turned the corner, he saw a figure hurrying across the courtyard. It was Xinxin; she must have heard the dull thud too. Liu Yan hesitated briefly, then followed her.
When he reached the servants' quarters, something was thrown against the window, knocking it off its hinges. He stopped and kept to the shadows as he peered into the room.
There, one of the kitchen boys and the new maid who had knocked so kindly on his door were facing each other. The man was staggering, clearly drunk and flushed red, while the girl leaned trembling against the window, her arms protectively crossed over her chest.
"Chun Dai." The girl's voice trembled.
The man staggered and bumped into one of the beds. He looked around and a broad grin appeared on his face.
"Jin Zou, don't be like that. You like me," he grinned. Jin Zou pressed herself against the broken window. Splinters of wood dug into her back as she tried to back away further and further.
"Not like that, Chun Dai," she said quietly. Liu Yan watched the scene from the shadows.
He was intelligent enough to understand what was going on and that Jin Zou was in a precarious situation. But he wasn't as interested in that as he was in the events themselves.
He watched as Chun Dai staggered, obviously drunk, and there was nothing left to suppress his animal instincts. He had torn open his robe and was clumsily unbuttoning his shirt, completely ignoring Jin Zou's pleas to leave her alone.
The moment he leaned over her, the door burst open and Luo Xinxin stormed into the room.
"Leave her alone, you disgusting pig," she shouted. Liu Yan instinctively took a few steps forward before pausing.
He couldn't and wouldn't do anything. It was Xinxin's own fault if she got hurt or put herself in danger. Why did she always have to interfere? Wasn't it enough that she was always buzzing around him? Did she have to meddle in other people's affairs as well?
A stab pierced his heart and cleared his head a little. Nevertheless, he couldn't shake off the threatening, ominous cloud above him.
Chun Dai turned around and stared at Xinxin with his watery, rolling eyes.
"Be quiet, or I'll take you first," he whispered. Xinxin grimaced, and Liu Yan was filled with an unfamiliar rage that he couldn't understand.
This spineless, drunk man disgusted him. The sun was slowly setting, and the last pale pink streak on the horizon illuminated the scenes inside the small room.
Xinxin took a step forward, but she hesitated to stand between the two. Apparently, she had learned something after all. Because none of the others had ever taken her side, and never would.
"If you don't let me," Chun Dai threatened, struggling to stand upright. "I'll just tell everyone I did it," he grinned. The word of a man, no matter how disgusting, drunken pig he might be, weighed more than that of a servant girl.
Xinxin's eyes darkened. Chun Dai turned back, confident of victory, certain that Xinxin would not stop him, and indeed, for a moment, it looked as if she would just stand there.
But that was not like her, so she jumped forward at the last moment. What happened next was a pile of clothes and screaming. Roaring and a lot of horror.
Liu Yan didn't realize what was happening at first, only when he saw the horror on Xinxin's face. Her eyes were wide open, her clothes and hands covered in blood, and he realized what had happened.
Chun Dai fell backward onto the floor while Xinxin pressed her hands against a deep wound in his stomach. She opened her mouth, not knowing whether to call for help or run away, while Jin Zou cried uncontrollably.
"I-I had to. I-I, what was I supposed to do?" she defended herself in a weak voice. Chun Dai twitched. He quickly lost all color as blood seeped from his wound, through Xinxin's fingers and onto the floor.
"Jin Zou, please!" Xinxin pleaded weakly. Jin Zou raised her head. Her tears dried up, and she nodded stiffly, as if she had understood something.
"They're going to kill me, aren't they? Zhao Hua and Zhao Huan, they're going to..."
Xinxin screamed, but Jin Zou was faster. Liu Yan saw a blood-stained blade flash. Then the petite girl rammed the knife into her throat and, with the strength of a desperate soul, slit her throat.
Xinxin stumbled forward, over Chun Dai's lifeless body, but Jin Zou fell backward and remained lying on the wooden splinters of the shattered window.
For a while, Xinxin stared in shock at the twitching, trembling body. Only when there was no more sound, no moaning, no gasping, and the death throes were over, did she look up.
Liu Yan, who had witnessed everything, looked at her. For a moment, there was only them. The frost set in and the cold crept under their clothes. Small clouds of mist formed in front of their mouths and in the distance, the bell struck the hour of the dog.
Night fell over the estate as Xinxin's gaze suddenly hardened and cooled. Liu Yan continued to stare at her intently. Xinxin stepped up to the window and fixed Liu Yan with her clear gaze. Although tears still moistened her eyes, she appeared composed and determined.
"Do you want to run away?" she asked. Her voice sounded rough but unmoved. Liu Yan tilted his head in surprise. For a moment, he wanted to mock her, but he paused.
"Now or never," she whispered. "Nothing is keeping us here!" It was the first time she had spoken to him informally.
If what had happened came out, they would be punished. Even if they just left and pretended they hadn't noticed anything, the other employees would give each other alibis.
They would be punished either way. If not for this, then for a hundred other things. Even if Liu Yan Xinxin took all the blame, it wouldn't lessen his suffering.
If they fled and were caught, she would surely die. If they stayed here and denied what had happened, they would die; if they blamed each other, they would die. The prospects for the next day were bleak. But what would happen if they escaped and weren't caught?
For the first time since he could remember, his heart felt a little lighter. He knew the feeling; he had banished it from his heart years ago. Hope. His gaze slid over the blood-covered bodies to Xinxin.
"And how do you imagine that would work?"