All of a sudden, jagged streaks of brilliant white endlessly ripped apart the paper-like sky and flashed like the cold silver prongs of the Devil. Seconds later, right on cue, came the rolling growling rumbles of thunderstorms.
From within the room it gave a surging rise to Kiyomi's heart, and the pain seared steadily with every thunderous boom. He raised his hands to his chest and his twisted fingers clutched the fabric of his shirt. A low groan followed. The shakiness in his legs had toppled his body to the ground.
His body could not forget the vivid agony and the the nauseating smell of his burnt flesh when the lightening hit him. He could still taste that decaying smell. Now his ears were ringing and he felt the pain resurfacing as though being stung by hundred thousands wasps from inside out.
Emika's heart was very heavy and sorrowful. Even though she wanted to, she was unable to help. She was completely clueless about his sudden bout of sickness.
Kiyomi slid across the floor to the nearest wall, and leaned his back against it, then he sat down cross-legged. Every inch of his ailing body felt as if the skin was devoured by flames and the bones were crushed. Although he was enduring quietly, his eyes showed a level of affliction that didn't match his stillness.
While any other person would writhe in pain, his royal upbringing emphasised to uphold a dignified demeanour at all times, even in the most dire circumstances. Regardless of being stripped of his birthright and title, Kiyomi still felt that every small detail of his behaviour should separate him from the ways of the average man. More than ever, the consciousness of his dignity as a prince was precisely because his upbringing was the very last thread of his identity in this world. He had to hold on to who he truly was, mo matter what.
More thunders cracked the air and pounded on the roof as if they were demanding entrance. Kiyomi reflexively ducked with each boom. He knew it was ridiculous but he couldn't control his reactions. He was frozen in a state of hyperarousal and fear; and engulfed by tremendous upsetting emotions and memories that disrupted the fragile equilibrium of his Xing-Qi-Shen energies.
You see, the bodily form—Xing, is the residence of life; the life force—Qi, fills this life; while the spirit—Shen, controls it. And if either one of them loses their proper position they will all come to harm you. Fortunately, any imbalances can be healed with Qigong, the practice of cultivating and circulating Qi. When the three essentials energies are thus harmoniously and internally maintained, it is possible to achieve a healthy body and mind.
As for Kiyomi he couldn't self-heal with Qigong alone because the connections between his Xing-Qi-Shen were broken. For four years he had wished to cure his illness by applying Neidan meditative techniques taught by his great-uncle—a master of Internal Alchemy—alongside Qigong circulation exercises. Although he couldn't heal, it was a short-term palliative measure. The pain would lesser after each session.
The flow of his essentials energies in his meridians channels remained unstable because of a leak in his life force.
The condition of his life force could be explained in the following way: He was like a man trying to fill up a punctured water-pouch.
But Kiyomi might be cured if only he could patch up the hole in his Xing-Qi-Shen.
In The Forbidden World the flow of the three essentials energies kept on fluctuating abnormally and required regular self-healing exercises to maintain the right balance. Therefore, healing an already deteriorating Xing-Qi-Shen required rigorous efforts. And Kiyomi knew this.
The reason being that the natural energy of the universe found in The Forbidden World was not an equal but an opposite force to the one in his world, to the one in his body; and so blocking the flow of Qi in his meridians and slowing down his healing.
But he couldn't keep being weak like this, otherwise how could he lead a rebellion and claim the throne?
There was one aspect of his illness he could cure—identifying which flow of energy was the leak and why. Answers which still eluded him...
As long as there was too much or too little of one energy relative to another, then the ever shifting dynamic in his Xing-Qi-Shen would aggravate his illness and could lead to death.
This time again, he did not succeed in regulating his energy levels. The beats of his heart gradually sped up, his breath became shallower, his head felt weightless, his vision began to blur, and the room started to move around him. Again, the impending was inevitable and he could sense it coming next. It had been just the same for the past four years. And before he had the time to reach the bedroom, all faded to black.
Without haste Emika shifted into her human shape and rushed to his side. His face was sickly, ghastly pale. She touched his forehead, it was cold and clammy. Then she pressed her ear on his chest and listened to his heart—the beat was slower than usual but still strong though irregular.
Taking a deep breath, she placed her trembling hand on his and caressed it in a remorseful manner while tears flowed unceasingly.
It chilled her to the bones seeing this wretched image of him. Overloaded with dark memories and a whirling of frightening emotions, she immediately recalled the turmoil on his gentle face when she had stabbed him with the dagger he had gifted her. That day was still so vivid—nailed into her heart—and the sheer idea of having to confront it was enough to cause her to panic.
That day was remorsefully and painfully as vivid as her second attempt...
Thinking about what to do next to care for Kiyomi, knocks on the door and a woman's nervous voice alarmed Emika.
"Your Highness!... Kiyomi!"
The door handle was shaken a few times.
Emika tried to stay as calm as possible. She turned back into her cat shape, hence no reasons to worry, right? [I am a cute and innocent little fur ball.]
Nevertheless, her whole body started to tremble and the first thought in her head was... [where should I hide?]
Without wasting one more second, Emika jumped into a deep rattan basket, and softly landed into a pile of garments. She buried herself under the layers of clothing and saw a small opening where the rattan had worn out. Her emerald green eye glued on it, she waited very still, with a trembling and apprehensive heart.
A deep voice from outside the door spoke urgently to the woman:
"What are you waiting for?"
"It's locked. I'll go–"
At once, the door burst open with a strong kick. Jian hurriedly entered into the room with a confident gait, ready for battle, eyes darting about nervously.
Li Ji slapped his back with a loud, "You're crazy! I was on my way to get the spare key!"
He blocked her from stepping in: "Let me check the rooms first." Then he quickly unsheathed his sword while her eyes mocked him. As the prince's bodyguard, Jian quickly voiced his concerns, but ignoring him to push her way into the room, she said: "Can your blade fight thunderstorms?"
Emika noticed how they both unexpectedly remained calm as if finding Kiyomi unconscious was within their expectation.
Li Ji examined his pulse condition, and as expected it was another fainting episode triggered by nights' thunderstorms. Powerless, all they could do was to wait for him to awaken.
Her delicate fingertips lifted as if she wanted to caress his pallid face but then her hand stiffened, it would be inappropriate—she used to be a mere palace attendant.
After Jian inspected the rooms, he knelt down by Kiyomi. Facing Li Ji, he muttered with a downtrodden look:
"All of this is my fault. I should have made a better choice that could have prevented his suffering. My life is worthless."
As soon as she heard those words, she raised her head and looked directly at him:
"Don't ever say your life is worthless! Because you are everything to me and to His Highness. Most importantly, if it weren't for your foresight, we would have died that night. You rescued us... It is this woman's fault! She nearly got you killed too! And twice! We all trusted her, especially Shufeng..."
Shufeng... It seemed like a thousand moons had set since she had called the prince by his true name. He had erased his birth name from their lips and buried it: "The day I claim the throne, only then you will speak my name again. It is the Prince's order."
In this world, he now lived as Master Yongso Kiyomi, an esteemed scholar and a renowned artist with ink painting and calligraphy. Many affluent names were avid collectors of his artworks. Here, he was a gentleman of wealth and distinction. Such facets of his life were novel to him since he was used to be treated as a social pariah.
Li Ji tenderly tucked a lock of his ebony black hair behind his ear. "I am worried His Highness could die without ever achieving his goal. Can't being used to the pain delay his fate a little?"
She was screaming in her mind: it is all this woman's doing! This murderess! Vengeance flickered in those remarkable eyes. She had long promised to herself that someday she would cross path with Emika and return what is owed...
"But... what if we could never leave this world?" Added Li Ji with sadness. "Did we run away only to live just a little longer? Our bodies are slowly withering..."
Jian hadn't even considered how that thought would affect Li Ji's spirit. As a royal bodyguard, Death always was his companion.
For the last four years, Kiyomi and Jian had gone back and forth between the two worlds, secretly probing the situation in the imperial court; and planning a rebellion by strengthening the prince's position with his partisans and gaining the support of those dissatisfied with the Emperor.
The imperial court was rampant with corruption, nepotism, and abuse of power. There were recurrent dissensions within the ministers over the Emperor's policies regarding state affairs. So in order to establish his absolute authority, Emperor Taizong took it a step further to banish, imprison or execute all those defying him—regardless of their status.
Patience was of the essence for Kiyomi's plan to succeed. However, each time they switched worlds it weakened their life force.
Li Ji was furious underneath the surface of her quiet demeanour:
"What is the purpose of hiding any longer if we can't satisfy our vengeance against those who have betrayed us?"
Bitterness and resignation to the reality had formed a tight knot in her throat.
They looked at each other without saying a word. The noise of the cold rain against the windows seemed to amplify the mood of this moment.
Kiyomi's hands clenched so tightly together that his knuckles had turned white. She inhaled sharply and disentangled the twisted fingers one by one as if to erase the pain. Jian laid down his sword on the floor, "Let's move His Highness into the bedroom."