Wang Hui did not want to open the door, but he did. He did not want to walk into that cell, but he did. And, hating himself for it, he did not want to see that broken woman.
But he did.
His mother sat in a corner, hugging her knees and rocking back and forth. That faraway look was in her eyes, and she was humming nonsense under her breath. Hui stood by the door while he could, watching her.
She had gotten even thinner than the last time he saw her,a mere few days ago. She looked like an accidental gust of wind could blow her away, and her dress hung from her emaciated frame as though from a scarecrow.
He looked around the walls, which were covered in painted pictures. Pictures painted with her own blood, and yet looking so lifelike.
His eyes fell on her bleeding fingers.
She had been painting again.
"Xiao Hui".
He forced himself to look at her face,then walked over to her, trying his best to smile for her sake, and failing pathetically.
"Mother".
She smiled wistfully, extending bloody hands towards him. Hui went down on his knees, setting down the bowl of water he had brought with him. Then he dipped a cloth into it and proceeded to clean her hands carefully.
She sighed as if in contentment, leaning her head backwards.
"Are you in pain, mother?".
He knew the answer even before she shook her head. No, she was not in pain. A mind as fractured as hers could barely maintain full grip of its own sanity, much less register pain.
"Are you in pain, Xiao Hui?".
Pain? Pain was too small a word to describe what was going on inside of him, but he shook his head too.
"I'm fine, mother".
She nodded,then frowned slightly, pursing her small lips.
"Your..."she paused, struggling to remember the word"scars... don't hurt?".
"No".
She nodded again,then closed her eyes. Hui's heart squeezed inside of him. His mother would have been able to tell that something was wrong. She knew him so well, she would have known right away that he was hurting because of her, and because of Xinyue, and because of Yingyue. But this shell she had become barely knew her own self anymore, and that was what was killing him more than anything else.
When he was done wiping the blood from her hands, he stood up and stepped back. He knew how futile it was, knew that she would make herself bleed again, because she simply needed to paint as a way of holding on to the last vestiges of her sanity. But that had never stopped him from coming around everytime he could to clean her hands.
It was the least he could do.
He had considered taking her and escaping to a place far away, but he knew they would not get far. They could never get away from his father, could never hide from him.
She had tried once, after all.
Hui watched her face, weary and scarred by the heated blade his father had slashed over and over at it. It was hard to reconcile the person before him with the mother he used to know. She had been a great beauty, famed for her irresistibility, the sort of woman most of the men liked- a small frame, small hands, small feet, small features. Not only that, but she had been a natural charmer, with a silvery voice and a winning smile.
Then one day, Wang Cheng had discovered that she had a lover,a certain no-name cultivator, and had felt so insulted that he had locked her up and arrested the lover. Only for her and her lover to elope in the middle of the night. They had made it out of Wang Cheng's territory, made it to a tiny village tucked between two hills where no one even knew about cultivators, but he had still found and dragged them back.
He had made his wife watch her lover burn to death, before making his son watch his mother get mutilated with a heated blade, tortured and violated until her mind broke,then tossed into the lowest cell in the dungeon to live out the rest of her days. To the rest of the cultivation world, Madame Wang was dead, and although Wang Cheng had claimed that making Hui watch his mother's mistreatment was supposed to be an "educational" experience, it had casted a shadow over the boy. Wang Hui knew that he was the worst for failing to save Yingyue, and for betraying the girl he loved, but he had no regrets.
They had a deal, he and his father. A deal which, surprisingly, Wang Cheng had actually been upholding, and so he had no regrets. Those were not the first sins he had committed to ensure that no more harm would come to his mother. They would not be the last.
*
*
*
Xinyue sat before the mirror in her room at the Mist Oasis, running a comb distractedly through her hair. She was,of course, worrying about her younger sister, still lying in a coma she was not guaranteed to wake up from.
"I'm sorry, A-Yue,"she mumbled"I couldn't do anything".
Leaning forward, she placed both palms wearily on her forehead. That was when she saw the multiple rashes across her throat, rows of tiny welts that looked like hives dipped in blood.
"Huh?".
She placed a hand on her throat, only to draw it away with a hiss of pain. What in the world were these things? They had not been there while she was having her bath just minutes ago. Had something stung her?
The Saintess sighed, making a mental note to visit the infirmary.
*
*
*
It seemed as if Yingyue had been waiting for Xinyue to return to the Mist Oasis, because as soon as she did, Yingyue woke up.
Lanfen had left for a moment to fetch some water, and when she returned it was to see that her daughter's eyes were open.
The bowl dropped from her hands, and she did not even notice the colorless liquid spreading across the floor as she hurried to the bedside. Yingyue was staring blankly at the ceiling, and did not notice her presence at all. Lanfen paused uncertainly,then reached out and took the girl's hand in both of hers.
"A-Yue".
Yingyue's fingers twitched slightly, as if she recognized the name but was not quite sure whom it belonged to. Lanfen's heart did an iconic flip into her mouth.
"Do you remember me, my sweet?".
Yingyue's eyes shifted to her, and the girl regarded her silently for what felt to Lanfen like decades before she squeezed out words.
"... mother...?".
And just like that, Lanfen's heart dropped right back into its proper place.
"Mother...".
"Yes? I'm right here, my sweet".
"This..."she mumbled, her voice hoarse"this is real, right? You're real... right?".
The very next second, Lanfen had taken the girl in her arms, holding her tenderly.
"Of course, my sweet. Mother is right here".
Yingyue's eyes widened, and tears pooled in them, before flowing like a waterfall down her face. Lanfen did not say a word as she held her daughter close and stroked her hair.
She held Yingyue quietly until the girl stopped crying.
*
*
*
After a drawn out discussion with her husband, Lanfen finally agreed very reluctantly to send Yingyue to the Mist Oasis. Even though she would have preferred to have her daughter by her side, she could not deny that Yingyue would be much safer at the Mist Oasis, thanks to their obsession with security.
And that was how, some weeks after she woke up, Yingyue found herself about to return to the Mist Oasis, not as a student, but as a guest who must be kept safe.
A letter had already been sent to the Pan sect some days ago, and so it was no surprise that on the D-Day, Sect leader Pan Junjie's emissary arrived very early to escort her to the Mist Oasis. An emissary who turned out to be none other than Pan Yuchen himself.
"Madame Meng,"he addressed her with a polite bow.
"Pan Yuchen, I presume?"she replied.
"Yes".
"You're the very image of your father. How is your uncle doing?".
"He is doing well. Thank you".
That was all the attention she spared him before she turned to her daughter.
"It's time to go, my sweet"she said.
"Yes, mother".
Yuchen could not help the way his gaze lingered on the girl. She looked even more slender than usual, but otherwise she appeared fine. There was something in her eyes, though, that suggested otherwise.
He did not know what exactly had happened to lead to the current arrangement, but he did know,as everyone in the cultivation world did, that Lanfen had murdered members of the Wang sect without getting punished. So, apparently, those people had done something to deserve it. Probably they had done something to her.
The rage that arose within him alongside that thought startled Yuchen, and he quickly stamped it out. He was not permitted to get angry. His attention returned to the pair in front of him just as Lanfen pulled Yingyue into a lasting hug, drawing the girl to her bosom with unutterable tenderness. It was obvious that if Lanfen could somehow return this girl back into her womb in order to make sure she would not have to feel any sort of pain anymore, the woman would have done so.
Somehow, watching them ignited a very literal pain in Yuchen's heart, and it took him everything not to clutch at his chest. He remembered his own mother,or rather, memories of her invaded his mind without permission.
Memories of her hugs, hugs that meant life to him because he got them so rarely. It was bad enough that she had been confined even before he was born, but he had not even been allowed to see her until he was six. He had asked, time and time again, but they always told him there was no need. They said that she had refused to hold him when he was born, and that was why he had been nursed by a wet nurse. They said she hated him and his father, and that he was better off without a mother like her. It was only after throwing an uncharacteristic temper tantrum that he had been allowed to visit her once a week.
Those had been very strange visits. On some days she had been sweet and motherly, feeding him treats and cuddling him. On some others, she had been unable to stand the sight of him. She had hurled objects and abusive words at him, even hitting him when she could. As if she was two different people.
And, although he would never admit it to anyone but himself, sometimes he still found himself wondering which one had been the real her. He wanted to believe that she had truly loved him, and that her violent side had been due to her ailment, but what if it had been the other way round?
"Pan Yuchen".
He blinked, snapping back to the present.
"Madame Meng".
"Thank you. And please, protect my little girl".
"I will, Madame Meng".