Be Gentle, Immortal Master

Luck turned out to be on our side at last, as his wounds mostly stopped bleeding by the time I changed bandages for him the next day, and there was no sign of infection. Two mornings later, we came upon a five-hundred-year-old tuber fleece flower by a rocky cliff not far from the creek. Although not as perfect as the thousand-year-old ones he had hoped to find, it was more than enough for what I needed, and I was happy to be back to Mount Hua sooner than planned so I could work on a more effective healing mixture for him.

I got to it the first thing after we landed, feeling grateful that I knew exactly what ingredients would be best for his conditions. All my years of training in medicine had come to great use, I thought as I rolled up my sleeves and started grinding the herbs.

If this trip had taught me anything, it was how much I had missed and treasured those days when all I had were books and plants. The quiet sanctuary of the Misty Mountains awakened the memory of the serenity of those times I had spent in the library and on the hills, of the simple joy from those trips into the wilderness where I could be untroubled by the everyday hassles of Mount Hua, with only Bai Ye by my side. And the power of medicine was far more than that—without it, I wouldn't be able to alleviate his pain by making a new healing paste right now.

I had hoped before this trip that it could help me decide with a clear head which path to choose for my future, and I had thought that I found the answer. Until we encountered the yazis, of course.

That incident made the decision no longer simple.. If I were to forego the path of the sword, I would never be strong enough to defend myself. I would either have to stay inside my little haven forever or rely on Bai Ye to protect me, and there was no guarantee that something like this wouldn't happen again, that he might get hurt because of how easily I get myself in danger.

A sigh escaped me as I poured the ground herbs into a mortar and pounded it. It was a dilemma, and the mystery of Twin Stars only made things harder. What would await me if I chose to continue using the demonic sword? It would give me the strength I wanted, but at what price? What other secrets of its dark past would it lead me to?

It didn't take me long to finish the paste. When I transferred it to a jar and made my way to Bai Ye's room, the chilly autumn air hit me belatedly—I had been too preoccupied earlier to notice the change in weather. I shivered slightly, wrapping my free arm around myself, and walked so fast that I almost bumped right into him at his door.

"Bai Ye! Where are you going?" My brief surprise turned into concern. He never seemed to know how to rest.

"To find you." He smiled. "There is a—" He paused when his eyes landed on the jar in my hand. "You didn't make a new healing ointment for me, did you?"

I grinned. "Of course I did." I shoved him back into his room. "Just because the bleeding stopped doesn't mean your wounds are healed. This will work much better than the stale medicine you're currently using."

His expression grew almost helpless. "Qing-er—"

"I don't want to see more scars on you," I coaxed as I pressed him into his chair and reached for a fresh length of bandage. "Do it for me, will you?"

That worked. He gave me a grudging look, though he didn't protest further and cooperatively started to loosen his robe.

I couldn't help smiling from triumph. "What were you saying earlier?" I scooped up a small morsel of the mixture and asked. "Why were you looking for me?"

"There was a message for us while we were away. About the trip to Jade Temple."

He undid the old bandages, and I saw with huge relief that his cuts were finally starting to close over the surface. I ran a quick cleansing spell over them to clear off the residual ointment from before. "What about the trip?" I asked somewhat absentmindedly. "The Gatekeeper crossed my name off the list?"

He chuckled. "Precisely what I thought as well, though … it appears that someone reasoned with him on your behalf … and you'll end up going after all."

Now he had my attention. Someone reasoned with the Gatekeeper for me? "Who?" I rubbed the new paste gently over the top of his wound, dabbing lightly to let it settle. "And … why?"

I wondered if it was my imagination, because he suddenly seemed a little uneasy at the question. "The message didn't say," he said, "but … I think it might be … might be because disciples are supposed to be accompanied by their masters on this trip. I think … someone wanted me to go along, and it's easier for them to argue for you to be listed."

His reaction puzzled me. Whoever this "someone" was, he didn't say, but I could tell from his tone that he knew exactly who it was and was only reluctant to tell me. I felt a bad omen. "Do you think … someone wants to give you trouble?" I ventured. "Is it related to Twin Stars?"

"N-No," he stammered a little, and that only confused me more. "It's … I've had my share of personal grudges in the past. It's not a big deal and won't … shouldn't affect you. Just ready yourself for the trip. The group should leave around mid-autumn."

I muttered an acknowledgment, though I couldn't stop the questions from bubbling in my head. What kind of personal grudges could make him feel so bothered and almost awkward to talk about? Who was this mysterious "someone"?