Page 69 of Silk and Sensibility

“We have to keep going,” Meilin said as if she could sense Ailin faltering. “We can’t afford to rest.”

Ailin cursed herself. The last time she tried to convince Meilin to go ahead without her, Meilin stayed by her and got injured in her place. She couldn’t let that happen again. They pushed forward.

Once they crested the hill, Meilin pulled them toward an abandoned building, and Ailin leaned against a wall for support. Hiding behind it, they would be shielded from arrows, at least for a moment.

“We can pause here, but we have to go soon, in case the Wōkòu cross the canal.”

Exhausted and worried, Ailin choked out a question. “Can we dress your wound? The blood—”

“We don’t have time.” Meilin extended her good arm to Ailin as if to pull her up. When had Meilin become so tough? Ailin had long thought of Meilin as the small girl so sensitive to pain that she couldn’t even bind her feet. Now she was bearing an arrow wound without complaint while her nimble, natural feet saved them both. It was as if she was built for this moment.

Ailin accepted her sister’s help, but she took a handkerchief out from her shoulder pack. “At least take this to stem the bleeding.”

Meilin grabbed the handkerchief and pressed it to her wound.

They walked until they reached a road. There, they joined the ranks of stragglers evacuating the local village. All the able-bodied seemed to have already fled or gone to assist in defense. Only those without family and unable to move quickly were left. Ailin found herself hobbling too, but she pressed on. If Meilin wasn’t going to complain or slow down, then she couldn’t either.

They walked for what felt like hours. The vicious summer sun burned overhead. Ailin’s throat was parched, but her sweat-soaked clothes clung to her body, making each step sticky and heavy. Though her feet ached, she pushed herself to keep up with Meilin.

At some point, Ailin realized that her sister was slowing down.

“Do you want to take a break?” she asked. Maybe they could rest a little since there was now more distance between them and the Wōkòu.

Meilin mumbled an answer before she crumpled to the ground.

Ailin rushed to catch her. Meilin was taller and heavier than Ailin so keeping them both upright was impossible. The best Ailin could do was lower her half-conscious sister as gently as she could on the side of the road. Ailin knelt next to Meilin and felt her forehead.

Meilin’s skin was hot and dry, and her eyes were closed.

For the second time that day, Ailin felt like crying. When she packed, she had brought the things she thought were most valuable at the time, objects like jade, jewels, silver. Now, she wished she had medicine and water. She had always prided herself on her good sense, but what did “sense” even mean when the world was in chaos? All her life, she followed the rules and behaved properly. She had taken the world for granted. When violence erupted and social rules were upended, she was helpless. Without Meilin, she would have died back on the hill. Meilin had even abandoned her precious zither to save her.

Tears fell from Ailin’s eyes, and she didn’t bother to hide them. “You said you were going to be the hero. You said we have to keep going.”

Meilin opened her mouth, but her voice was raspy and barely coherent. “Trying . . .”

Ailin didn’t know if Meilin was suffering from the heat, lack of water, her injury, or a combination of everything. They needed help, but the people on the road looked even weaker than they were. They certainly didn’t seem to have water or medicine to spare.

“Keep . . . moving. I’ll . . . catch up.” Meilin’s voice grew even fainter.

Hearing Meilin echo her own words from earlier made Ailin feel ridiculous. How could she have expected brave, stubborn Meilin to leave her? It was against Meilin’s nature, and Ailin’s too. There was no way Ailin would abandon Meilin when Meilin hadn’t abandoned her.

“I can’t go without you.”

Meilin’s face contorted as if she wanted to cry, but she had no tears. “Sorry . . .”

A rumble echoed in the distance. Ailin stood up instinctively. Was it the Wōkòu? If so, they had to hide. They were in no condition to run anymore, but they might be able to drag themselves to a hiding place. Maybe they would have to use Captain Bai’s dagger to defend themselves. Ailin shuddered.

Shielding her eyes against the sun, she strained to see into the distance. Dust rose from the direction of Suzhou. Her heart leaped in her chest. Not pirates.

She took a few steps farther up the road, not daring to believe her eyes. A row of imperial soldiers marched toward them, and riding at their head was a commander who looked familiar. Armor covered his body and a helmet obscured his head, but months of practice sketching figures had taught Ailin to recognize people’s distinctive traits. From the commander’s perfect proportions and the way he sat on his horse, he was none other than Captain Bai. More than that, he was hope.

Ailin began waving her arms, not caring if she looked like a crazy person. Captain Bai cared about Meilin’s safety. Even when Meilin argued with him, he had always been helpful. Regardless of whether the army had intentions to stop, Ailin would get Captain Bai’s attention. She had to make him save her sister.

國雖靡止，或聖或否。民雖靡膴，或哲或謀，

或肅或艾。如彼泉流，無淪胥以敗。

不敢暴虎，不敢馮河。人知其一，莫知其他。