SITU JIN walked slowly, pressing his left hand to the wound on his side and his right against the wall to support himself.
The sun was setting, and the fiery clouds dyed his face red. His long shadow dragged on the ground, his silhouette hunched. The street vendors were packing up for the day. They pushed their carts along the cobblestone road, their items clattering noisily.
Situ Jin had been demoted—from captain of the imperial guard’s right division to captain of some suburban camp. His rank hadn’t changed, but he’d lost the privilege of being in the emperor’s sphere. Others might have thought that a great loss, but in truth, Situ Jin didn’t mind too much. When he’d come to the capital from the northern borders, passed the military exams, and earned a place in the imperial guard, he had dreamed of making a name for himself. But looking back, his three years in the palace seemed rather flavorless.
He’d always just gone with the flow. Neither competitive nor ambitious, he stayed where he was placed. He didn’t compete with others, nor did he hold any aspirations.
For a man, that wasn’t the ideal. A man was supposed to provide for his family and bring honor to his name. If he lacked the skills to do so, his wife and children would go hungry; if he didn’t achieve anything, his family wouldn’t prosper. But Situ Jin’s situation was an exception in those regards. He had lost his parents when he was young, and he grew up in an isolated northern town under his neighbors’ care. Though the town was small, swordsmen often passed through. They’d taught him to use the saber—one teacher per move—until he knew how to slash, strike, and later kill.
One day, the town elders said, “You’ve grown up, A-Jin. Time to go out and make something of yourself.” He took the saber he’d earned working for the blacksmith and traveled to the capital, still alone, without any support. It had been a snowy day. Back in his hometown, everyone would already have closed their doors by that hour, but the capital was bustling, the streets packed shoulder to shoulder. He carefully held his saber toward his side to avoid accidentally jabbing someone with the scabbard. Despite the crowds, he was still alone. The noise and excitement had nothing to do with him.
Not that being alone bothered him. As long as he could take care of himself, that was more than enough. Now Situ Jin reached to touch his wound, and sharp pain stopped him in his tracks. Still, changing the bandages shouldn’t be too much of a hassle. He took a breath and continued walking.
“Captain Situ?” a clear, melodious voice, like the chirping of a bird, called from his right.
Situ Jin’s heart inexplicably skipped a beat. He slowly turned and saw a girl standing on the doorstep of her house, a bamboo basket on her back. She was dressed in a frost-colored gown of fine cotton, her large, luminous eyes trained on him. Too shy to look at her face directly, he dropped his gaze to her hand, which rested on the door knocker. Her exposed wrist was as pale as the moon—a captivating sight.
Ah. He knew what her name was: Mingyue.16 Zhu Mingyue. A lovely name.
Her family ran a medical clinic. Dr. Zhu was renowned in the area, hailed as a miracle worker who could cure any illness. But his beautiful daughter was more celebrated still. Ruffians would deliberately injure themselves just to glimpse Mingyue at the clinic. Situ’s house stood directly across from hers, and when he rode out for duty, he often saw her walking to the clinic with her medicine basket. Still, they’d never spoken.
So how did she know his name was Situ?
Mingyue pointed to his waist. “Your lower back is bloody. Are you injured, Captain Situ?”
Situ Jin was stunned. He reached back, and pain speared through him. He hadn’t even realized that he was injured there.
Mingyue tittered, then beckoned him over. “Oh, you’re such a fool! Come in. Let me bandage it for you. My father’s home too—he’s the best at treating injuries.”
Situ Jin hesitated. “I can manage…”
Mingyue feigned anger, slapping the doorframe. “Can you even reach your own lower back? Come inside.” Without giving Situ Jin a chance to refuse, she turned and walked inside. She had always been impulsive, with a temper as fiery as her spirit. Between her temperament and the way she was always wandering around, finding a good husband would be a challenge for her. Situ Jin couldn’t help but worry on her behalf. Then again, he’d always been something of a worrywart, the type to fuss over nothing.
With no other choice, Situ Jin straightened his tattered uniform and followed Mingyue into the house.