Movement from outside woke Li Hua from her sleep, and for a moment, her assassin's instincts took over before she remembered where she was. She jerked upright, accidentally knocking her eldest brother Li Wei off the edge of the bed in the process.
"Ow!" Li Wei groaned from his new position on the floor, tangled in the fallen blanket. "What happened?"
It was still quite early, and the sun had yet to rise, leaving the room draped in pre-dawn darkness. Li Wei blinked several times, trying to adjust his eyes to the dim light. Standing up from his tangled position on the floor, he could make out the shapes of his siblings still fast asleep on the bed—Li Hao sprawled out like a starfish, and little Hua'er curled up into a tight ball beside him, both completely undisturbed by the commotion.
Confused, Li Wei quickly picked up the blanket and draped it over his siblings before walking out of the room to relieve himself.
Li Hua, still curled in a ball, couldn't suppress a guilty smile as she listened to her eldest brother walk out the room, leaving the door wide open. Her heart was still racing from the sudden awakening, her body having reacted on pure instinct—muscle memory from her previous life.
Dawn crept through the room, bringing with it the familiar symphony of her family's morning routine. The soft creak of her parents' door carried clearly to her enhanced senses, followed by the gentle percussion of their footsteps and the melodic interweaving of their voices—her mother's silk-soft murmurs harmonizing with her father's resonant bass.
Remembering the discussion she overheard last night, Li Hua quickly rose from her position, slipping off the bed and carefully making her way to the door. Seeing that her mother and father just left through the front door, Li Hua quickly put on her shoes and followed after them.
As she approached the kitchen, she ran into her brother Li Wei who was still groggy, Li Hua slowed her steps and rubbed her eyes, playing the part of a sleepy child despite being fully alert.
"Brother Wei," she said softly, still feeling awkward with the familial address.
Li Wei's sleepy eyes softened at the sight of his little sister, and he reached down to ruffle her hair with clumsy affection.
Little Firefly flickered briefly in amusement as Li Hua fought the ingrained urge to dodge the incoming hand - a remnant of her past life's combat instincts. Instead, she leaned into the touch, reminding herself that this was family, not a threat. The gesture felt foreign yet comforting, much like everything else in this new life of hers.
"Sister, why are you already awake?" Li Wei asked, his voice still a little hoarse.
Li Hua's mind raced for an appropriately childish response, one that wouldn't betray her true intentions or abilities. She fidgeted with the hem of her sleeve - a deliberately crafted gesture she'd observed from other children.
"You were gone," she mumbled, letting a touch of petulance color her voice. "I was cold." The half-truth felt bitter on her tongue, but she reminded herself that sometimes deception was necessary, even with loved ones. Especially with loved ones.
"Oh, I was coming back." He smiled, reaching out to ruffle her hair again.
"What are you two doing up already?" her mother called from the kitchen doorway.
"Māmā. I...I fell off the bed," Li Wei admitted sheepishly, "and then I had to relieve myself."
Her mother's laugh was warm as honey. "And you, Hua'er?"
Li Hua felt her own need pressing. Despite her mature inner self cringing at the lack of decorum, her four-year-old body had other priorities. "Pee," she announced with childish directness, her cheeks flushing pink with embarrassment at her own outburst. She darted toward the bath house, mortified by her inability to maintain proper etiquette.
Her mother's laughter followed her like a gentle breeze, joined by her eldest brother's amused snickering. The dual sounds of their mirth somehow made the moment both more bearable and infinitely more embarrassing at the same time.
Following the body's memory, she made a quick turn after passing the bath house. The bathroom was primitive—just a stone-ringed pit that made her long for her past life's modern conveniences. Her tiny body turned the simple task into an awkward balancing act, though she managed with the provided water in the small wooden basin and the wooden spoon.
Approaching footsteps drew her from her thoughts. As she hurried out, her father caught her up in his arms, covering her face with playful kisses. "My little poppy, is already awake!" His voice resonated through his chest, where she pressed close. Such affection would have been unthinkable in her past life as an assassin, yet now it filled a void she hadn't known she carried.
"Would you like to help prepare the morning bath for you and your brothers?" her father asked.
Li Hua nodded eagerly, her mind already working through possibilities.
"Little Firefly, the spirit water—how much?" she asked in her mind.
"A small handful should suffice, Master."
"Two handfuls it is."
"Why do you even ask—" Little Firefly's exasperated tone flickered through her mind, but she sensed his fond acceptance. He understood her well enough by now: when it came to protecting family, her assassin's instincts always erred on the side of excess.
The bathhouse was larger than the kitchen, divided into two spaces to accommodate the whole family bathing at once.
Once inside the bathhouse, her father moved with practiced efficiency, channeling his spiritual energy to fill the massive wooden tub with steaming water. The familiar scent of medicinal herbs filled the space as her mother carefully measured out the marrow cleansing powder, her delicate fingers sprinkling it across the water's surface in a precise pattern.
Various dried plants and roots followed, each chosen specifically to ease the coming trial.
Li Hua gripped the long wooden stirring stick, its length perfectly suited for her small frame to reach the bottom of the deep tub while maintaining her balance at the edge. As her parents busied themselves with their respective tasks, she watched carefully, waiting for her moment. When both turned to gather more supplies, she acted swiftly, drawing two handfuls of spirit water from her space and adding them to the mixture.
The water shimmered for a brief moment, taking on an otherworldly iridescence that caught the morning light. Li Hua's heart skipped a beat as she quickly stirred the mixture, dispersing the telltale glow before either parent could notice. The spiritual energy merged seamlessly with the herbs and powder, creating a potent blend that far exceeded its original strength.
"This one is ready," her father announced, satisfaction evident in his voice. "Let's prepare the second bath before calling the boys."
They moved efficiently to the adjacent chamber, where a matching tub awaited. The process repeated itself: her father's spiritual energy filled the tub with hot water, her mother's careful additions of powder and herbs, and Li Hua's vigilant stirring. Once again, when her parents' attention wavered, she seized the opportunity to enhance the mixture with spirit water, carefully masking its distinctive shimmer with rapid stirring.
The final bath awaited in the kitchen, a smaller wooden tub placed near the hearth's warmth. Her father channeled his spiritual energy to fill it with steaming water while her mother added the last of the marrow cleansing powder and herbs. Li Hua maintained her duty of stirring, and when her parents turned away to gather supplies, she swiftly added two handfuls of spirit water to the mixture. The brief ethereal shimmer vanished beneath her careful stirring, leaving no trace of the powerful enhancement she'd given to all three baths.
"Hua'er," her father's voice was gentle but carried an undercurrent of concern, "when the bath cools a bit, I want you to get in. Ensure your entire body is submerged." He paused, his calloused hand resting briefly on her head. "It will hurt, my little poppy, but you must endure it. I'll go prepare your brothers as well."
Li Hua met his gaze and nodded, her small fingers tightening around the wooden stirring rod.
Her mother stepped forward as her father left. Kneeling down to meet her daughter's eyes, she smoothed Li Hua's hair with tender fingers that trembled ever so slightly. "Stay in as long as you can bear it, my precious Hua'er," she whispered, her voice thick with maternal concern. "Only when you can no longer endure should you get out." She pointed to the stone counter nearby, trying to keep her voice steady. "I've left a linen cloth there for you."
Li Hua nodded solemnly, understanding both the instructions and the worry behind them. Unable to resist, her mother pulled her into a quick, fierce hug before rising. With a final look of love and worry intermingled in her eyes, her mother turned and departed, the bamboo door screen rustling softly as she slipped away.
As steam curled upward from the bath's surface, Li Hua contemplated the challenge ahead.
The spirit water she'd added would amplify everything—the excruciating pain, the soothing herbs and the powerful benefits of the cleansing. Her assassin's mind, housed in this child's body, knew intimately the price of power. She'd survived torture chambers and poison trials in her past life, yet this young form would find even this enhanced bath nearly unbearable.
But necessity rarely concerned itself with comfort. The urgency in her parents' whispered conversations, the careful preparations, the timing of it all—they painted a picture of approaching danger that her trained instincts couldn't ignore. If suffering through an intensified cleansing would give her family a better chance at survival, then she would endure it without complaint. Let them think the bath's strength came from her mother's herbs alone; some advantages were better left unspoken.