“Xingyin, I know her.” An unfamiliar eagerness pulsed in his voice as his magic surged forth, ropes of flame lashing around the woman’s cloud and dragging it back to ours.

As her face contorted in fury, she raised her hand to attack us again—just as Liwei called out, “Sister Zhiyi, it is good to see you again.”

Chapter 18

Sister?” I repeated in disbelief, examining the woman more closely.

After Liwei’s greeting, she had frozen, eyes widening as she stared at him. Something nagged at me just as before, an elusive twinge of recognition—a memory surfacing in my mind like the chords of a forgotten song.

“Liwei, is she the woman in your painting? Your childhood friend who moved away?” I had wondered about the scroll by his desk, when I first came to the Courtyard of Eternal Tranquility.

“Yes.” He smiled with such joy, despite the strain of the night, my spirits lightened. “I did not see her clearly at first, and it has been many years since we last met.”

The woman—Zhiyi—strode onto our cloud, searching Liwei’s face. “Liwei?” His name came out tentatively yet with undeniable tenderness. “There was only one person who called me ‘Sister.’ It has been so long … you were a child when I left.”

I lowered my bow, the arrow vanishing. Whoever she was, she was dear to him and no enemy of mine. “Is she truly your sister?” I asked Liwei.

“We are not really siblings. I was a child when I knew her. It seemed impolite to call her by name, as she was my elder, yet ‘Aunt’ did not seem to fit.”

Zhiyi shuddered. “Definitely not ‘Aunt.’ Now you are grown-up, just my name is fine.” Her gaze slid to the ground. “How are your parents? Your father, His Celestial Majesty?”

“In good health when he ordered my imprisonment,” Liwei said tersely.

“But you are his favorite; the one who can do no wrong.” She pressed a fist to her mouth, as though fearing she had said too much. How readily she spoke of the emperor’s relationship with Liwei, like she had turned it over in her mind countless times before.

“Who are you?” My tone was quiet but firm.

“Tell them,” Tao urged her. “Maybe she won’t kill me then,” he muttered, throwing a wary glance at me.

Zhiyi hesitated. “Liwei, I should have told you this before. I wanted to but was afraid of her.”

“Who do you mean?” he asked.

“The Celestial Empress. Your mother. She ordered me to not speak of it.”

I kept my gaze on her as I gathered my energy stealthily. I did not think she meant us harm now, yet my instincts had failed me before. I would balance them with what I knew: that for some reason, the empress had deemed this person a threat to her son.

Liwei frowned. “Why would she do that?”