Chapter Text
“Mama, Mama, I want a bedtime story.”
Fond laughter. “Alright, Binghe. Which story do you want?”
“My favourite one!”
“Again? Didn’t Mama tell Binghe that story yesterday, and the day before yesterday?”
“But I want it again, Mama.”
More laughter. “Alright, alright. If Binghe wants it so badly… Now settle down and listen, Binghe.”
“Yes, Mama.”
“Once upon a time, there lived a beautiful princess. Not only was she beautiful, she was strong and brave as well. One day, the princess got into a battle with a big and fearsome dragon. The fight was long and arduous, but finally the princess managed to defeat the dragon. Alas, the battle left the princess badly hurt.
“The princess was far away from her kingdom, so she had no choice but to call the great ambulance for aid. When the ambulance and brave paramedics came, they found the princess bloodied and injured. And holding a little baby in her arms.”
“And the baby was me!”
“Yes, you’re right. The baby was you. Now, let Mama continue.”
“Yes, Mama.”
“The paramedics brought the princess and the little prince to the hospital for treatment. But despite the best doctors in the hospital doing their best, the princess passed away.”
“Poor princess.”
“Yes, poor princess. Now, this left the doctors in a quandary. You see, the princess died before telling them where her kingdom was, and if there were any family left to claim her remains and the little prince. So, they decided to keep the little prince with them until they found out where to send him. They fed and clothed the little prince and put him in the neonatal ward, where they put all the little babies. But despite receiving food and clothes, the little prince was very sad. He missed the princess so much, and he cried and cried.”
“And then Mama heard him crying!”
A chuckle. “Yes, your Mama was a cleaner in that ward. She heard the little prince crying, and she felt so sorry for him that she went over to his bassinet, picked him up and gently rocked him while crooning to him.”
“And the little prince stopped crying.”
“That’s right, and the little prince went to sleep. Meanwhile, the cleaning woman looked down at that little face and that little hand holding her finger, and fell straight in love. So, she spoke to the head doctor of the childrens’ department, and after much talk and signing of papers, she was finally allowed to take the little prince home.”
“And that’s how Binghe became Mama’s baby!”
A happy hum. “Binghe knows this story well. Now, it’s time for you to go to sleep. Goodnight, Binghe.”
A yawn. “Goodnight, Mama. I love you.”
A kiss on the little forehead. “I love you too, Binghe.”
“Rowr, rowr,” growled Luo Binghe as he moved his T-rex towards the Duplo buildings.
He moved his Duplo farmer about on the ground. “Oh no, the dinosaur is attacking us! Help, help! Who will help save us?”
Luo Binghe grinned to himself as he pulled out his stuffed dog from behind his back. “Not so fast, you evil dinosaur! I, Super-pup, will stop you!”
Saying that, Luo Binghe picked up the T-rex with the other hand and pushed both toys at each other, making fighting noises as he played.
“Take that, and that!” yelled Luo Binghe as he made the stuffed dog smack the T-rex down with its paws.
Luo Binghe scowled at the plastic dinosaur. This battle would be so much cooler if the T-rex could fly like some of the monsters in his cartoons. He imagined the T-rex swooping down from the sky like a pterosaur to attack the Duplo people.
The dinosaur lifted itself slightly above the floor, before falling back down again.
Luo Binghe stared at it. Had the dinosaur moved by itself?
Had Luo Binghe made it move?
Luo Binghe screwed up his face and concentrated hard on the dinosaur. Fly, he chanted in his head, imagining the T-rex floating in mid-air. I order you to fly!
The plastic dinosaur floated a few inches above the ground before falling back down once again.
A wide grin spread across Luo Binghe’s face. He had done that! He wanted to run to his mama and tell her, but she was busy making dinner and Luo Binghe didn’t want to disturb her. No, he’d show her once he got this right.
Luo Jinyan smiled to herself as she set the table and put out the food. Today’s dinner was a simple one: rice, ginger chicken and a stir-fry mixed vegetables dish. She had left her Binghe to play with his few toys while she cooked. He was playing more quietly than usual, though Luo Jinyan had heard a few giggles coming from their bedroom as she cooked. Her son must be up to some new game, she supposed.
“Binghe, come and eat dinner,” she called.
There was a creak, and then a small curly-haired head popped out from behind the bedroom door.
“Mama, come and see,” urged her five-year-old son.
“Come and see what, Binghe?” asked Luo Jinyan.
Binghe grinned at her. “It’s a surprise, Mama.”
Luo Jinyan gave her son a fond smile. No doubt he had made a new building out of his Duplo bricks and wanted to show her. Well, there was no harm in cooing over it and praising her son for his brilliance for a short while.
Luo Jinyan walked towards the bedroom. Her son, upon seeing her coming, dashed back into the room. She entered to find her Binghe sitting cross-legged on the floor, his toys spread around him.
Luo Jinyan scanned the room. She didn’t see anything out of the ordinary, but her son was practically wriggling in excitement.
“What is it that you wanted to show me, Binghe?” asked Luo Jinyan. She hoped that it wasn’t another bug.
Binghe grinned at her again. “This.”
Her son’s plastic dinosaur, stuffed toy and Duplo figurines then floated up, a few feet in mid-air.
Luo Jinyan’s jaw dropped. Telekinesis…? Her son had telekinesis! Who would have thought that her Binghe could do something like this?
The toys fell back to the floor with a clatter and her son looked up at her triumphantly. Did you see that, Mama? I did magic.”
Luo Jinyan tried to smile, but she knew her attempt was a weak and tremulous thing. Images of her son being dragged away by expressionless men in black, and her Binghe being strapped to a slab, weeping and wailing, while test after test were performed on him by uncaring scientists, filled her mind.
Luo Jinyan knelt down in front of Binghe, whose smile was starting to fade. She reached out to pat him on the head.
“Bing-er did an amazing thing just now. Mama is so proud of her Bing-er,” she praised. “Truly Binghe is very special indeed.”
Binghe immediately lit back up.
“Now, Binghe needs to promise Mama something very important,” continued Luo Jinyan.
“What is it, Mama?” asked Binghe.
Luo Jinyan put both of her hands on his shoulders. “Promise Mama that you will never show anyone else this. Or do this outside of our apartment,” she ordered.
Her son frowned. “But why?”
Luo Jinyan closed her eyes briefly. “Because if Bing-er does, bad people will take you away and then Mama and Bing-er will never see each other again.”
Her son began to cry. Ah, he always cried so easily. “Mama, no,” he wept. “Binghe doesn’t want bad people to take him away.”
He threw himself into her arms and nuzzled into her chest. “Binghe wants to stay with Mama forever.”
Luo Jinyan hugged her son. Ah, this sweet, sticky child. How she loved him so. “Mama wants to stay with Binghe forever too,” she said into his curls. “So Binghe can’t show anyone else this, alright?”
Binghe shook his head violently. “I won’t, I won’t,” he promised. “Binghe will be good and only do magic in the house.”
“Good boy, Binghe,” praised Luo Jinyan once again. “Mama loves you so much.”
“I love you too, Mama,” whispered her son.
The food was cooling on the table, but neither mother nor son could bring themselves to get up just yet. Luo Jinyan closed her eyes as she hugged her son tightly. Dinner could wait for a little while longer.
Children were most creative when finding ways to make fun of each other. They often ganged up on the weak, easy targets, because it made them feel bigger, stronger. If the kids were sons and daughters of affluent families, it was even worse, as the teachers were less likely to call them on their misbehavior and notify their parents.
After doing just that, their teacher had sent Luo Binghe to the nurse, in the hopes that he could find some quiet time there.
Children were also rather cruel when they perceived themselves superior to others with those of the same group without suffering any immediate consequences.
Luo Binghe rubbed at his reddened cheek, a scowl marring his round face as he shouldered his bag through the deserted hall.
He didn’t want to go back to the classroom, though he knew his mama wouldn’t like him to skip classes. But he was a very smart boy, as his mama kept telling him, so he would be able to catch up easily even if he didn’t go back for the afternoon. He wouldn’t worry his mama. Once he got home, he’d spent his free time studying instead of playing or watching TV.
He knew there were some empty classrooms in this part of the school, and he took the left in search of the one at the back of the building, where he knew his classmates wouldn’t bother to look for him.
Luo Binghe leaned his ear against the door, listening. It was quiet. So reassured, he went to open the door, put something was wrong. Even unlocked, the door didn’t give way, no matter how much he pushed with the strength of his little body.
It was frustrating. He balled his hands and pursed his lips. Maybe someone had pushed a desk against the door?
He tried the other two doors at the end of the hall, but both of them were locked. The first one was his only option, so he stood in front of it again, and paused.
Looking from side to side and making sure there was no sound of approaching people, Luo Binghe pushed his hands against the door, extending his arms, and focused hard.
The door opened so easily he didn’t have time to step back, and fell forward with a yelp of surprise.
“Who–?”
He looked up at the voice, alarmed, and quickly scrambled to his feet.
The room hadn’t been empty! Luo Binghe clutched at the straps of his backpack and nervously surveyed the scene.
At the center of the classroom, sitting cross legged on the floor, there was a boy and a girl that Luo Binghe recognized. How could he not? Liu Mingyan was his classmate, and everyone knew her brother, who was really good at sports and a promising martial art student even at such a young age.
However, what had Luo Binghe’s mind making cartwheels was the piece of glowing yellow paper floating between the two siblings.
When the older one noticed, he hissed, “Mingyan.”
The girl blinked out of her shock. The piece of paper promptly stopped glowing and fell, now looking like an ordinary talisman you could get at the local temple.
“Sorry, gege,” she mumbled through the mask covering the bottom of her face.
“You shouldn’t be able to open that door,” The older boy, Liu Qingge, stood up. He looked tall and big and way too serious, like he was about to beat Luo Binghe up.
But although weaker and smaller, Luo Binghe didn’t let himself be intimidated. His eyes were shining with the awe of discovery.
“That was magic, right? You two can make things float too?!”
The two of them blinked at him in shock.
“‘Too?’” asked Liu Mingyan, standing up as well to walk closer to him.
Luo Binghe nodded, excited. This was good, right? He didn’t think his classmate and her brother would take him away from his mama. They had been hiding back here too, and had even blocked the door. Had that been magic too?
He went to raise his hand, but stopped himself. He closed the door, not thinking that he was in any danger with the older boy looking down at him with such an intense expression.
Luo Binghe turned back to them, smiled confidently, and extended his hand.
The talisman floated back up in the air, spinning at Luo Binghe’s will.
If the latest events of Luo Binghe’s life were told as a fairytale, in the style and tone his mother took when telling him about his birth and his biological mother, it would be something like this: Hiding away from his bullies, the young boy stumbled into the practice room of two young wizards (Hunter apprentices). The boy was overjoyed to find others like himself, and from then on his life changed forever. He was admitted to a wizard school (Hunter clan) as an apprentice and given spellbooks (that one he hadn’t renamed) to take home so he could study the basics in his free time. He was on the path to become a great wizard (Hunter) of his own, one that would one day fight monsters (vampires) and protect the weak (Mundane). He’d make his mama proud!
Though in reality his mother hadn’t been thrilled at the idea of Luo Binghe joining the Hunter clan, she supported him on his decision to study his magic and expand his horizons.
“Ms Luo, I must ask you for your complete discretion regarding this matter. The Liu Clan works to protect the Mund–” the man coughed, “normal people, and we do that from the shadows, for the sake of maintaining the balance of the world.”
It was difficult for Luo Jinyan to trust her son to these people she didn’t know anything about, who were telling how in the future her son would get into dangerous situations, all for the greater good.
But Binghe looked so excited to find others like himself, to not have to hide his talent anymore. He looked so eager to study magic, his mind ever so avid for new knowledge. How could she take that away from him, when it made him so happy?
Ah, her little boy was growing up. Would she be able to keep up with him?
“I would never do anything that would put my son in harm's way, Mr Wei,” she said, clutching her hands over her lap. She was still frowning in distress, even as she said, “I’ll entrust my son to your care, then.”
The man smiled. “Don’t worry, Ms Luo. We’ll take care of him.”
Luo Binghe knew how to levitate things with his mind. He knew how to make little balls of light. But he didn’t know how to make a fire with magic. He didn’t know how to summon breezes or dry a puddle. He didn’t know how to heal a small cut or make minor talismans. He didn’t even know how to fight. All of those were things a boy of his age were supposed to have known by now.
Unsurprisingly, he was put in the classes for beginners, surrounded by children much younger than him, who giggled at the “big kid” learning alongside them. While Luo Binghe found it embarrassing, he did understand why the Clan elders had done so. If he were put together with his agemates, he would only hold them back with his ignorance. One of his teachers had told him that if he proved himself, he would be moved to a class with older students, which was something that Luo Binghe was determined to do.
If Luo Binghe had expected to make friends with other children like him, then he was soon rudely disabused of this notion. Most of the children his age looked down on him– not only because he had come late to his training, but also because he couldn’t name his birth parents, much less those of his ancestors. Which was something that many of the children took pride in– eagerly boasting the exploits of this and that ancestor from time to time.
The first time those children tried to bully Luo Binghe however, Liu Qingge almost immediately came to his rescue.
“Is this the behaviour of Liu Clan apprentices? Whatever his background is, Luo Binghe is still your shidi and should be treated accordingly!” he had roared at the other children.
The would-be bullies cowered in front of Liu Qingge’s wrath and made meek apologies before running off.
Luo Binghe approached Liu Qingge to thank him only to be waved off.
“You are a member of the Liu Clan now. And it is my duty to watch out for all my clan members, that’s all,” he had said gruffly before walking off.
Luo Binghe admired his straight back as he walked off. So cool! Liu Qingge was definitely a shixiong to emulate!
A hand patted his shoulder, making him jump. The owner of said hand turned out to be Liu Mingyan. “Don’t mind gege,” she said, smiling up at him. “He’s going to be Clan Head one day so he takes his duties and responsibilities very seriously. He’s so focused on that that he doesn’t bother with making friends.”
“I understand,” replied Luo Binghe. “I think it’s amazing that Liu Qingge is so dedicated to his clan and duties.”
Liu Mingyan beamed at him; even through the mask it was obvious she was pleased at Luo Binghe’s words.
“I know, Gege is truly wonderful.”
And that was how Liu Mingyan and he became friends. He helped her with Maths while she helped tutor him in magic. As a result, his skill in magic improved in leaps and bounds, and in a short time he was moved to a more advanced class.
The bullying in his school petered off after the bullies saw that he had the friendship of Liu Mingyan and the protection of Liu Qingge. His older martial siblings in the Liu Clan though, never warmed to him, and while they didn’t try to bully him again, they still made snide remarks from time to time. Luo Binghe didn’t care. He had a friend now, and one friend was better than none.
It was hard, juggling Mundane classes with Hunter classes, but Luo Binghe had gotten the hang of it. He also genuinely enjoyed his Hunter classes– learning magic and lore and how to fight.
As he rambled about his classes over dinner to his mother, who nodded with a strained smile, a shadow suddenly fell over her face.
“Binghe, is it really necessary for you to go out and fight vampires once you’re older?”
Luo Binghe swallowed his mouthful before he answered, “Not really, Mama. There’s plenty of Clan members who choose to become healers instead, or weaponsmiths. There’s even those who choose to go into business instead– helping to improve the Clan’s fortunes instead of fighting.”
His mother’s shoulders sagged upon hearing his words. “So Binghe doesn’t have to fight. That’s such a relief.”
Luo Binghe looked down at his food instead of his mother. He wanted to fight vampires when he was older. He wanted to ride on a sword like the older Clan members. He wanted to protect the innocent, instead of staying in the medical ward or the forges, waiting for people to come back. Still, he understood his mother’s feelings. She was only worried about him, after all.
“I still have a long way to go before I can decide on which field I want to enter though,” he said at last.
His mother nodded. “Of course, of course.” She then set her chopsticks down with a click. “Binghe, you’ve been working so hard lately, so I was thinking that on my day off on Sunday, we can spend the day at the aquarium. What do you say?”
Spending a day out at the aquarium with his mother did sound fun, but–
Luo Binghe shook his head. “I can’t, Mama. I already agreed to help out at the soup kitchen on Sunday.”
His mother’s eyes widened. “The soup kitchen?” she echoed.
“The Liu Clan run a soup kitchen for homeless people,” he explained.
His mother smiled widely. “Ah Binghe, you know, your mama was very worried when Mr Wei brought you home that day and explained things to me,” she confessed. “All that talk about fighting vampires… Well, it’s all fun and games in stories and films, but not so much in real life. But now when you tell me all this–” she waved a hand about “It makes me glad to know that not only does my Binghe have options other than fighting, but that the Liu Clan truly are protectors of humanity.”
Luo Binghe hunched his shoulders. “It’s really to monitor the number of homeless people because rogue vampires tend to go for them first,” he admitted.
That gave her pause. When she opened her mouth to speak again, she had to turn sharply to the side to cough in her fist. Brown eyes crinkling in worry, Luo Binghe tried to soothe her by patting her back.
“Are you okay, Mama? Do you want water?”
At her nod, he sprinted to the kitchen and was back quickly. Luo Jinyan sipped from the glass, and the coughing fit slowly passed. She smiled at her son gratefully, and cleared her throat.
“Still,” she said, continuing the topic, “most people wouldn’t care about the homeless. Even if the Liu Clan have ulterior motives, those homeless people are going to go off with a full belly and that’s better than nothing.”
She reached out to stroke his head. “I am so very proud of you, my Binghe.”
Luo Binghe leaned into her touch, warmed by her affection. “I love you, Mama.”
“I love you too.”
However, at some point Luo Binghe’s life stopped sounding like a fairy tale. It was that, or the realization that his story was always going to be one marked by tragedy and loss.
The sound of quick, excited feet bounding up the stairs. The jingle of keys, and then the lock clicking. The front door of their apartment burst open, and in came her son, a bright smile on his face.
“Mama! I have something to show you!”
He closed the door and set his backpack on the floor carefully. Luo Jinyan looked up from the papers in her lap with a faint smile.
“What is it that you want to show me, Bing-er?”
The boy put his hands together and closed his eyes, brows furrowing in concentration. In one blink, he disappeared.
Luo Jinyan jumped in surprise. “Binghe?!” Alarmed, she looked from side to side.
A giggle came from the place her son had been standing up just now. At almost the same time, he popped up into the living room again, as if he had never moved.
She stared dumbfounded, but then breathed out, a weak laugh leaving her lips. “Oh, Binghe, don’t scare me like that.”
Her son threw himself at her, and Luo Jinyan caught him in her arms. She hugged him and kissed his forehead, ruffling his hair fondly.
“What’s that spell, hm?”
“That’s the Notice-Me-Not, Mama. I still have to practice more so I can keep it going for longer than a few seconds. The instructor congratulated me because it’s a really difficult spell and most hunters use charms instead.” He grinned up at her, and she kissed his head again.
She tried to clear her throat, but her voice still came out hoarse, as if she had a cold. “My Binghe is so talented. I’m sure you’ll be able to achieve anything you set your eyes on. I’m sure…”
Her vision turned a bit blurred, but she blinked to disperse it, and she forced a smile.
“I’m sure Binghe can do it.”
The boy noticed her strange mood, and raised from her lap with a questioning look. “Mama, what’s wrong? Why are you sad?”
The papers, now crinkled, were still on her lap, and her gaze inevitably fell to them. Binghe’s eyes followed it.
Ah. She couldn’t keep hiding it. Soon Binghe would start to notice. She had been able to give an excuse for her fatigue and her increasing coughing fits, but there was no way to hide what was coming.
She had thought she had more time.
Can’t they stay like this forever, with her boy in her embrace?
Luo Jinyan took a shuddering breath.
“Binghe. I have to tell you something.”
“Large cell carcinoma of the lung,” read Luo Binghe. He lifted wide, panicked eyes towards Luo Jinyan. “Mama, you have… you have cancer?!”
Luo Jinyan winced. “Yes.”
“Mama, no!” wailed her son, clutching her tight. “How is that you have lung cancer anyway? You don’t even smoke!”
Luo Jinyan scratched her cheek sheepishly. “Actually I did for a few years, as a young woman,” she admitted. “But even non-smokers can get lung cancer, according to the doctors.”
Luo Binghe pressed his forehead against her shoulder.
“How bad is it?” came her son’s voice, small and muffled against her shirt.
“Stage 4,” answered Luo Jinyan quietly.
Mentally, she cursed herself for not going to the doctors earlier, but she had thought it was a simple cough then. It was only when she started coughing up blood did she visit the doctors. She had hoped that it was tuberculosis, only to find out after investigations that it was something far worse.
She stroked Binghe's head and tried to muster up a smile for his sake. “It will be alright,” she murmured. “I’ll have to go for chemotherapy and radiotherapy and maybe it will be enough.” She gave her son a squeeze. “And if worse comes to worse… I talked to Mr Wei and he said that as a ward of the Liu Clan, Binghe will be fed and clothed, sheltered and educated. The Liu Clan will definitely take care of you if I’m gone.”
It tore her from the inside; she didn’t want to die. She wanted to see her son graduate not only from school, but college as well. She wanted to see him married to a pretty young girl– or a handsome young man, as the case might be. She wanted to see her son have children of his own.
And then there were the more selfish desires: she wanted to go on a cruise and sip cocktails while she reclined on a beach chair. She wanted to travel overseas just once in her life. She wanted to learn scuba diving.
And now, she might never get to see or do any of it.
Luo Jinyan gave her son another squeeze. “Listen, I have quite a few days saved up, so why don’t we go on a vacation next month?” she whispered. “Just the two of us, okay?”
She could feel her shirt getting damp, but her son nodded in reply. “M-maybe we can visit the nearest hot springs?” came a wet voice.
“Hot springs sound lovely,” replied Luo Jinyan, trying to blink back tears as best as she could.
For her son’s sake, she had to be strong.
The next day, Luo Binghe immediately looked up lung cancer on the school library’s computer. According to the Internet, the 5-year survival rate for his mother at her current stage was only 6%. The odds were… not good at all.
Luo Binghe rubbed at his face before shutting off the computer. Luckily, he had an ace up his sleeve. If science couldn’t save his mother, then magic certainly could.
At the center of the city, conspicuously close to the police station and other government buildings, was the Liu Clan’s headquarters. It was a compound as big as the closest university, though thanks to the powerful wards protecting it from the Mundane, it looked like boring apartment complexes where regular people lived.
However, once Luo Binghe crossed the gate for the first time two years ago, a whole new world had been revealed to him.
At the outdoor training ground, some apprentices had been flying on their swords while an instructor yelled at them to get down. There were Hunters standing guard at every corner of the big concrete wall surrounding the compound (physical defenses helped strengthen the magic). Going inside the main building was like entering a museum or a mansion. Though the decoration was austere and minimal, the place radiated wealth in a way only rich people’s houses in the TV dramas his mama watched could.
The first time he’d stepped foot there, he’d stared wide-eyed and dumbstruck, drinking in the views of everything he could see: apprentices practicing fire spells in a classroom, others fencing in the opposite room, using charms and spells to defend or attack.
Liu Qingge had to call him over when he noticed Luo Binghe lagging behind, and the younger boy had hurried to catch up with the siblings. He’d murmured an apology, but not even his embarrassment could hide the awe and excitement from his face completely. Liu Mingyan had been the only one smiling at him.
“Everything will be explained to you, but first you need to meet our Clan Elders,” Liu Qingge had said without looking back, and Luo Binghe hastened his steps so he wouldn’t be left behind by his long strides.
Today Luo Binghe didn’t have time to appreciate the architecture or reminisce about the past. He walked decisively to the Healers’ Wing, the documents detailing his mother’s sickness held close in his arms.
The door was always open so he didn’t have to knock to go in. At the front of the room was the Head Healer, Mu Qingfang, instructing the others in the use of some kind of talisman that would clean blood instantly. Luo Binghe’s heart picked up its pace. This could work. There was still hope.
He chanted those words in his mind over and over as he waited for the healers to finish their lesson.
The Head Healer had noticed his presence a while ago, and smiled at him in reassurance. Once he was done, he cleaned his hands and gave all the healers their chores.
“Deliver this medicine to Qi Qingqi, please,” he said to one of the younger healers, who nodded and took the proffered bottle.
Mu Qingfang approached Luo Binghe with a kind smile.
“Hello. What can I do for you, Apprentice Luo?”
The boy bent at the waist in a respectful bow. “I apologize for disturbing the Head Healer’s lesson.”
“Not at all,” he gestured to a chair for Luo Binghe as he himself took a seat. “Now tell me what’s wrong.”
Luo Binghe took a deep breath. He extended the papers to the healer.
He saw the moment it dawned in Mu Qingfang’s eyes, and Luo Binghe rushed to explain.
“Head Healer,” he pleaded earnestly. “This apprentice is aware of how busy you are, and how much work the Liu Clan has to do daily, but–” he gulped; his eyes burned, but he blinked the tears away. “My mother, she– the doctors say it has no cure. The treatments are not enough.”
Mu Qingfang stared at him, facial features carefully arranged. He shuffled the papers, then set them carefully in one of the tables.
“Apprentice Luo–”
“Please,” Luo Binghe cut him, bowing again with his hands on his knees. “Please, she needs help. She can’t– She shouldn’t die from this.”
He set his jaw, staring at the floor determinately, without blinking. He wouldn’t cry. He wouldn’t.
A gentle hand touched his shoulder. When Luo Binghe raised his head, Mu Qingfang was looking at him with pity.
“I’m sorry, Luo Binghe,” he said apologetically; he sounded honest, and that was worse.
“Healers like myself have tried to find a cure for this type of disease. But in a century, we haven’t been able to make any progress.”
Luo Binghe’s gaze went over the Head Healer’s shoulder, staring vacantly at the far wall. His teeth clenched harshly inside his mouth.
Mu Qingfang continued in a soft voice. “Our magic can do a lot of things, but aside from easing the pain, if a person’s body rebels against itself, it’s almost impossible to heal it.”
There was nothing more to say. Mu Qingfang didn’t offer more apologies, nor did he try to comfort him more than he already had. Hands folded on his lap, he bowed his head in respect to Luo Binghe’s silence.
The hopeless stillness gave way to all the things Luo Binghe had been trying not to think about.
He thought of his mother's laugh, her warm embrace, the cadence of her voice as she told him bedtime stories. Her smile, her hands, her eyes.
He thought about her saying “Binghe has to drink his milk, so one day he will grow up taller than me” while caressing his head.
And how he had proclaimed, spoon held tightly in his tiny fist: “I’ll be so tall and strong I’ll carry Mama in my arms, like a princess!”
An unbearable void set itself in the space between his ribs, crushing everything inside his chest.
Luo Binghe stood up.
“I thank the Head Healer for his time,” he said in a monotone voice, and didn’t wait for a reply before fleeing the Healers Wing.
Luo Jinyan checked herself into the palliative ward. Despite the treatments, her condition was getting worse and worse. She had to quit her job when she realized she didn’t have the energy to work anymore. And even at home, she had to struggle to do the usual daily chores. Oh, her son helped, but he was still so young and he already had so much on his plate; she couldn’t add more to his burden.
Her Binghe was such a good boy. He visited her every day, always with snacks or tea. He would try to keep her spirits up too, telling her funny stories about what happened at school or in Hunter class, but he couldn’t conceal the sorrow in his eyes.
Her Binghe was growing into a fine young man. She wished she had a few more years, to watch him get taller and stronger.
Blinking to hold back the pricking in her eyes, Luo Jinyan sipped her tea.
“Mmm, this tea is really good. It never fails to make me feel better. Thank you so much, Binghe.”
Her son clenched his fists in the fabric of his pants. “Healer Mu gave it to me, Mama,” he answered. “It’s pain relief tea.”
Luo Jinyan smiled. “It’s very kind of him. Please thank him on my behalf, Binghe.”
Binghe nodded, eyes cast downwards.
“I’m sorry, Mama,” he blurted out. “I tried to look for a cure for you, but apparently magic can’t heal cancer.”
Luo Jinyan nodded. She had already known about it from Mr Wei. The day she called Mr Wei to ask whether the Liu Clan would care for her son when she was gone, he had asked her back why she was asking, and she had admitted her illness to him. Mr Wei had offered her his condolences and told her that his own mother had died of breast cancer some years ago. In the end, there were some things that even magic couldn’t make better.
She reached out to stroke her son’s head. “It’s alright, Binghe.”
Luo Jinyan wouldn’t admit that she had hoped for a magical cure, but her hopes had been dashed by that conversation with Mr Wei. So now all she could do was to put up a brave face for her son.
Luo Binghe shook his head. “No, it’s not alright, Mama!” he burst out. “It just isn’t fair! Mama is such a good and wonderful person! Mama shouldn’t– shouldn’t have to–”
Tears were streaming down his face. Luo Jinyan took a tissue from the tissue box on the side table and wiped her son’s face.
“Bad things happen sometimes, Binghe,” she told her son. “And sometimes there’s nothing we can do about it.” She smiled at him. “At least this way, we still have time together.”
Binghe sniffed and then nodded. Luo Jinyan was so weak these days but she pulled at her son so that he could rest his head on her shoulder like he used to in better days, and stroked his hair.
“Mama, is there anything you want to eat or drink?” asked Binghe in a small voice. “Binghe will definitely get or make it for you.”
Luo Jinyan thought for a while. She didn’t have much appetite these days, to be honest.
“Well, it would be nice to eat Binghe’s congee,” she replied at last. “Binghe is such a good cook, after all.”
“I’ll go make it for you then,” said Binghe, moving as if to get up.
Luo Jinyan pulled him back down. “Silly boy,” she scolded lightly. “I’m still full from the tea and snacks you brought. And by the time you return, visiting hours will be long over.”
Her son turned to smile at her. “I’ll bring you some tomorrow, then,” he promised eagerly.
“I’ll look forward to it then,” replied Luo Jinyan. She leaned over to kiss her son on the forehead. “I love you so much, my Binghe.”
“I love you too, Mama.”
The plastic container was still warm in his hands, when he rushed to the hospital after one of the nurses had called him.
He was still holding it while the long beeping of the heart machine echoed in his skull, bouncing inside his body, like a stone thrown into an abandoned house.
Luo Binghe sat by his mother's side, ignoring the nurses and the doctors that were trying to talk to him.
He looked at his mama’s face, peaceful as if she was sleeping. Maybe if Binghe waited just a moment, her chest would rise again, and she’d take a breath in. She would open her eyes and smile at him weakly, telling him it was alright, she was there. She wasn’t leaving.
But her thin hand, when he touched it, was cold.
There wasn’t any warmth left.
Only the cooling congee in the plastic container, now sitting on his lap, gave him some.
He wanted to throw it away. But his mama had taught him not to waste food, and Luo Binghe would never disrespect her.
It was quiet in the hospital room. The sunlight that came through the window hurt his eyes. It was all wrong; there should be darkness. It should be raining. The world should be crashing down, or freezing over.
His hands trembled as he forced them to move. To open the container, pick up the spoon, and shovel the congee past his clenched teeth.
The sting in his eyes gave way to hot tears. He couldn’t suppress the sob that made his body convulse, and he leaned forward, to press his forehead against his mother’s hand.
But he made himself swallow the spoonful of lukewarm congee, even if he wouldn’t be able to take any more.