halfamoon | The alchemy true human beings know

Huo Qingtong plans to rebuild her home. Post-novel. Written for eid_ka_chand in 2010. Shujian Enchou Lu © Jin Yong, et al.

The girls tried to persuade her to stay. "No one is waiting for you at the Tianshan Mountains," Zhou Qi stated with her usual candor. "Your parents, your siblings, your teachers - they're all gone. Why not build a new life here in the Central Plains?"

"We're your new family," Luo Bing cut in firmly, and the belated, transparent attempt at damage control, which should have tickled Huo Qingtong, touched her deeply instead; she was all too familiar with an older sister's attempt to shield her younger siblings from unhappiness.

"From now on your home is with us," Li Yuanzhi contributed.

Huo Qingtong held out her hands. Li Yuanzhi grasped her right one, while Zhou Qi coaxed her baby into reaching for Huo Qingtong's fingers. They were sitting in the midst of a small garden within an abandoned house, where the Red Flowers Society had camped for the past two days. The house being big enough to accommodate all of them, Huo Qingtong suspected it had once belonged to a rich man who for some reason had been forced to vacate the premises - a disgraced official, perhaps, or one who had tampered with the books and fled to elude capture. She imagined having to spend the rest of her life inside such solid walls, and shivered.

"Thank you," she said, while the baby, bored with her fingers, dropped them and started to squirm impatiently. "You're all willing to have me - it's terribly kind of you. I'm very honored and grateful."

Zhou Qi, who had let the baby crawl off her lap and onto the grass, made a derisive sound of disapproval. "What's all this nonsense about honor and gratitude? You're definitely welcome to stay with us - don't talk like we just met an hour ago."

"But I have to return. You see, I can't be the only person left from my tribe. Those that the imperial troops didn't send to jail have probably gone into hiding. So I must go and look for the rest of the survivors."

"Oh," Zhou Qi breathed. "Yes, of course."

Li Yuanzhi gave Huo Qingtong's hand a brief but warm squeeze, and Huo Qingtong squeezed back. "Have you got any idea where they might be?" asked Li Yuanzhi.

It was a question that Huo Qingtong had been struggling with. "There's a couple of places I have in mind," she replied carefully, not wanting them to worry too much.

Luo Bing watched her, and Huo Qingtong nodded in what she hoped to be a reassuring manner. "When are you leaving?" Luo Bing sounded reluctant - without, to Huo Qingtong's relief, showing a trace of pity or suspicion.

"As soon as possible. The longer I wait, the farther away the other survivors might have scattered." And it was a fact, too. Still, she did not release Li Yuanzhi's hand, and when Luo Bing put an arm around her and Zhou Qi took her other hand, it was one of the most peaceful moments of her life.

She took her leave of Chen Jialuo in front of the entire Red Flower Society. Private farewells between them were a luxury of the past, one she was glad to have lost.

Precious Mountain, where Huo Qingtong's teachers had once lived, had become a sanctuary for a wounded old man. During Huo Qingtong's visit, Yuan Shixiao spent his time either strolling around the area or practicing his moves. Her polite attempts at a conversation were met with a grunt, and sometimes, when she performed her prayers, he would sit nearby, a shadow in gray robes. To her, this silence was comforting, almost healing.

On the morning of her departure, he surprised her by asking, "Is Qianlong keeping his promise about your people?"

"Most of them that he's held prisoner are being released," she answered, a little bemused that he did not ask after Chen Jialuo's health. "And he's withdrawn the troops stationed in this region, as you've probably noticed yourself. We're safe, at least for now."

Yuan Shixiao tugged absently at his beard, his head down. "You can do it," he mused, meeting her eyes. "You're a born leader, exactly what your people need."

"I sincerely hope I can fulfill your trust, Elder."

He was gazing at her, past her. "Tell me, do you pray for Mingmei?"

"She was like a mother to me..." Huo Qingtong began. Then she stopped and had to wipe away the tears. Part of her, however, was glad that she still had such grief in her; it meant she had not forgotten or gone numb. She needed the memories to remain intense, to remind her what she must do, how important it was.

"You shouldn't cry," Yuan Shixiao said softly, and she gave a wet unladylike sniff, which he did not even seem to hear. "I miss her too. I was young and a total idiot, otherwise I wouldn't have argued with her so much. She probably assumed I'd found another woman in the Northern Deserts." He gave his beard a final, decisive tug and pulled back his shoulders. "My point is, don't ever do anything foolish, or you'll be too old for regret."

Banishing her secret dreams of becoming Chen Jialuo's beloved had never struck her as particularly foolish, but she kept her mouth shut; at any rate, it was too complicated to explain.

Yuan Shixiao saw her off as far as the desert, claming he could use the exercise. In passing, he mentioned that he preferred to die in the middle of the expanse of timeless sand. "Nobody even needs to pay their respect at my grave every year," he confided, before looking annoyed at his own frivolity. "Well, take care, girl."

"Thank you, Elder, for seeing me off."

"Will you be all right, now?"

This time she did not hesitate. "I'll be fine." For the first time since she wept at her sister's graveside, she felt imbued with new vigor - a little light-hearted, even. She knew exactly why this was. "Because everyone says so, and I believe it."

---

A/N: The title is taken from a Rumi poem, translated by Coleman Barks.

Learn the alchemy true human beings know: the moment you accept what troubles you've been given, the door will open.