My mind was still hazy when I heard muffled voices talking next to me.

“Please help us, Elder. We’ve tried every doctor in the area … they said she’s beyond saving. But she’s only six! Our only child!”

The voice startled me. It was my mother, but she had passed away five years ago. How was she here? I couldn’t see anything around me except darkness. Where was I?

“Her illness is past the point of healing,” a man replied. He sounded farther away, and I couldn’t hear him too clearly. “I could try the way I explained to you earlier. Though as I’ve said, it is a forbidden art, and your child will have to bear the consequences.”

My mother seemed to be hesitating. Then I heard my father’s voice: “If her fever doesn’t break, she’ll be gone before nightfall. What consequences could be worse than Qing-er dying?”

I finally realized what was happening. I must be in a dream. When I was six, I caught a terrible disease spreading through our village and almost died from it. My parents said a traveling doctor had saved me, but I was too sick to remember anything about it.

Was I on the brink of death again? Was that why this hidden memory at the edge of my consciousness suddenly came back to me?

“With that method …” my mother asked shakily, “will she still be the same when she recovers?”

The man said something to her. His voice was so low this time that I couldn’t make out the words. Finally, I heard my father say: “We accept, Elder. This is only a small price to pay. Please do what you need to save our child!”

Then the sounds quieted.

I lay in the darkness, wondering if this was my life flashing back at its end. I wished I could open my eyes and see my parents one last time. Would I be able to find them in the afterlife? Would we be family again in the next cycle of rebirth?

“Qing-er,” another voice broke the silence of the darkness. Cool and clear, soft and gentle.

A voice that I could never forget, even in death. It was my memory of Bai Ye on the day we first met.

“Qing-er,” he said again, and I savored the sound of it. Death didn’t treat me poorly—at least it let me hold on tight to my most precious memories. I wondered how Bai Ye would feel once he found my body. Would he shed a tear for my passing? Would he miss me?

“Qing-er, wake up.”

The worry in Bai Ye’s tone was unfamiliar. When was this memory from? I tried again to open my eyes. The tiredness in my heavy eyelids finally gave way, and the darkness faded. The first thing I saw was Bai Ye’s concerned face.

“How do you feel?” he asked.

I blinked. He was in the same gray robe I saw him change into yesterday, but his brow was knitted, and the look in his eyes was different. A dim candle burned low behind him. I blinked again, and recognized that I was in my room.

It wasn’t a dream anymore. He had found me, and I was still alive.

Bai Ye’s brow knitted further at my lack of response. “Try to force the venom out,” he said. “Can you feel it with spiritual power?”

I didn’t notice until then that we were sitting in my bed. Bai Ye was cradling me with one arm as I leaned against him, and his other hand was pressed against my chest to transfer spiritual power to me. The intimate position would normally have sent me blushing, but I was feeling too dizzy and weak at the moment to react.

His spiritual power flowed into me from his hand, warm and invigorating. I brushed all other thoughts aside and called upon it, using its strength to push the venom in my body to my fingers. This was how we typically fought poison, by moving it away from the heart and then forcing it out through our fingertips.

The venom was still strong in my body, and I moved it carefully along my meridians. But instead of feeling it traveling towards my fingertips, I felt a sudden surge of nausea. Something rose up through my throat, and before I could gather enough strength to push Bai Ye out of the way, I gagged. The taste of blood filled my mouth, and trickles of scarlet dripped through my lips onto his sleeve.

I felt Bai Ye’s body tense. “This can’t be …” he muttered to himself. I gagged again. As more blood came up my throat, my strength disappeared with it. I was too weak to keep my eyes open, and I fell back fully into Bai Ye’s arms.

The venom, I realized. I wasn’t able to move it, even with his help, and it had reached my heart.

“Did you use your swords today?” Bai Ye suddenly asked.

I was feeling weaker and weaker, almost out of breath to be able to answer him. But I knew those swords mean a lot to him, so I gathered all my strength and said: “I … cut … Chopper …”

Bai Ye’s hands trembled at my words. “No …” he said, and his voice trembled as well. “No …” he repeated. I had never seen him like this, and I wondered if it was for me or the swords.

Another surge of blood rose into my mouth. At this point, I knew my end was coming. “Master …” I tried to speak again with the last strength I had. “I …”

What did I want to say? To tell him I was sorry for the swords? Or to confess to him how much he had always meant to me?

But it was too late, and pointless. I was too weak to utter another word, and my consciousness started to drift. At least I get to die in his arms, I thought. It was already more than I could ever ask for.

My breaths slowed, and my body started growing cold. I readied myself for the final moment, but instead, I felt a gentle brush of lips on my forehead.

“There’s only one way to give you enough spiritual power to fight this off …” Bai Ye said softly.. “Qing-er, dual cultivate with me.”