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Qiqi has never liked the Chasm. It is too dark, too musty, and there is always a heavy feeling in the air. It seeps into her lungs that don’t need air and weigh her down.
It is easier not to breathe, of course. After all, Qiqi is a jiangshi and jiangshi do not need to breathe. But Qiqi wants to be alive, and living children need to breathe. So she takes in another breath of air.
Baizhu’s shadow stops moving on the rocky ground. “Qiqi.”
She meets his eyes in the cave’s darkness, dimly lit only by the light emanating from the dark lantern in his hands. “Dr Baizhu.”
Changsheng flicks her tongue at her. Qiqi pays no heed to her.
He looks at her with his head inclining slightly, appraising her as though she were herbs, before giving her a nod. Turning around, he goes back to trekking down the dug-out path, leaving Qiqi to follow him. Qiqi totters after him dutifully, mind drifting as she hops over a rock.
The Chasm is good in some ways. There is no sun, so Qiqi will not sweat. It is relatively cool but not as cold as the fridge. There is no one in the caves to look at her weirdly to realise she is too pale.
But none of her friends are here. No little finches. No coconut milk.
Qiqi doesn’t like the Chasm.
They walk for longer. Qiqi is glad that she and Dr Baizhu didn’t have to walk to the Chasm, the Traveller having brought them to one of the blue, floating things that were underground instead. Qiqi was happy because she got to spend time with the Traveller, even if it was only for a while.
Dr Baizhu stops again. Qiqi squints at the large shadows in the distance. “We’re almost there.”
Qiqi adjusts the sling bag on her shoulder instinctively. “Yes, Dr Baizhu.”
The shadows gradually form clear outlines and colours and Qiqi realises they have reached the campsite. She doesn’t remember what happened but she knows she and Dr Baizhu are here to heal people.
She runs through the list for healing with Dr Baizhu in her head.
Ask patients if they are okay, how much the pain is on a scale of one to ten, and assess the injury. If pain is more than six and the patient requires immediate medical assistance, use Herald of Frost; otherwise, use healing food and reapply herbs, but only change bandages when needed.
“Qiqi.”
It took her a long time to memorise this. Occasionally, she would still need to refresh her memory by referring to her notebook.
If unsure, call Dr Baizhu.
“Qiqi.”
Qiqi looks up to see Dr Baizhu’s profile. His brow is slightly furrowed, his body already squatted over a body.
“Bandages, please, with the healing salve. Blue jar. Are you okay?”
Bandages and… the blue jar. Shifting her sling bag off her shoulder, Qiqi reaches for Baizhu’s supplies. Dr Baizhu also asked a question… Is Qiqi okay?
“Yes. Qiqi… Qiqi was thinking.”
She walks closer to give Dr Baizhu the jar and roll of bandages, leaving the sling bag on the floor. He spares her a cursory glance, before turning his head back.
“Good. Thank you.”
She turns back to look at the long row of people on the floor. These are people who need her help and healing.
Qiqi walks briskly, or as briskly as a zombie can go, to another patient. Unzipping her own medical pouch, she makes an effort to stretch a smile at the pale, sweating man in front of her. Order: heal and help patients.
“Hello, my name is Qiqi. On a scale of one to ten, how much pain do you feel now?”
❆
Even though Qiqi dislikes the sun for many reasons, she still needs it to tell the time: When it is safe to leave her room at the top of Bubu Pharmacy, when it is time to eat and drink so her body doesn’t break down, when she must get back to Liyue Harbour.
There is no sun underground. Qiqi had felt dizzy and Dr Baizhu needed to call her to drink water and eat Almond Tofu. People still need my help.
White ribbons stained with dullened red unfurled from her grasp as she leaves the worn bandages in another disposal bag. Slowly, she dresses the unconscious man’s hand once again. Even though the skinned flesh makes Qiqi feel uncomfortable, her eyes remain on the raw mush of exposed muscles because—
The man beneath her whimpers. Qiqi almost drops his hand, loosening her grip once the patient’s arm was steady.
Under the flickering candlelight, she sees the sweat droplets glinting on his forehead. His face is drawn. He moans again, fingers twitching in her grasp. Qiqi looks down at his limp hand.
He is feeling pain. He must be scared. Was this how Qiqi’s body looked as she was dying?
Qiqi can make him feel better, but she will only be able to do that if she does not hurt him. She needs to look at the injured hand to see where to wrap the bandages so she will not hurt him. She continues wrapping the bandages.
When Qiqi leaves the man’s hand back to his side, her candle has burned to a stump. She goes to find Dr Baizhu for another.
Qiqi doesn’t remember when they left Bubu Pharmacy. Baizhu’s face was paler than it normally is. “Qiqi.”
She holds out her candle, moving it to Dr Baizhu’s eye level. Baizhu’s face is now more yellow instead of white, the shadows on his face waving along with the warm flame. “Qiqi needs a new candle.”
Changsheng slithers away bitterly as Baizhu pats her head. “We are finished for the day, Qiqi. Well done.”
Finished for the day. Patients… no longer need help. Order complete.
Baizhu’s hand was always cold but warmth flowed through Qiqi. The nice kind when she is told ‘good job’, a warmth that makes her happy. Qiqi thinks she is smiling. “Thank you, Dr Baizhu.”
His hand leaves her head to take the used candle, before fitting the sling bag strap over her head onto her shoulder. Qiqi looks back at the patients. She doesn’t remember what had happened but she heard words, words she understood separately but not together.
Stray explosion, flammable fumes, cave-in.
Caves. Qiqi doesn’t like caves. She died in one, after all.
“Qiqi, the Traveller might take a while. Sit down and drink water.”
Qiqi blinks at Baizhu. Changsheng had returned to his shoulder, staring at her with her sharp, beady eyes. Now that she has time to think, she misses the finches and her friends in Liyue Harbour.
Picking herbs would have been better to exercise her body. Qiqi must constantly do callisthenics to make sure her muscles don’t become stiff. But here she gets to help people. What did Dr Baizhu tell her to do?
… Water. Traveller will come late.
“Yes, Dr Baizhu.”
❆
Her body may be dead, but her eyes work the same as any living child’s. Qiqi had to sit near one of the lamps to read her notebook as they waited for the Traveller to arrive. There are many tables and a stove. This must be the place everyone eats food at.
There was a man. His face was scrunched up.
Possessed by a burst of curiosity, Qiqi put down her notebook and sling bag before making her way to him. Maybe he is hurt. He needs healing. Qiqi will help him.
She pulls on his trousers when he doesn’t look down. “Hello.”
His eyes are filled with tears. The man is sad.
“My name is Qiqi. Are you in pain?”
A hand goes up to rub his face. “Hello, Qiqi, t-thank you for asking. I’m not in pain.”
But you look so sad. “You are crying.”
He squats down in front of her. It makes Qiqi feel better because she doesn’t have to crane her neck upwards. His shoes are really big, bigger than Qiqi’s. “What’s a kid like you doing here?”
“Qiqi… Qiqi is a zombie. Qiqi came to the Chasm to heal people.”
There are many emotions on the man’s face but he still looks at her kindly, unlike some people in Liyue. He stares at her head for a while; Qiqi knows he is staring at the cryo vision on her hat.
“Qiqi, are you scared of dead things?”
Qiqi blinks, confused. “Qiqi is a zombie. Qiqi is not scared of dead things. But Qiqi is scared of dying.”
The man smiles but it is a sad smile. “Do you want to see what is on the counter?”
The man was looking at the counter. The thing on the counter… made him sad.
“Yes.”
He puts his hands under her arms. “Hold on tight.”
There is a sense of flying, like when Qiqi glides off the peaks of Jueyun Karst. Qiqi’s feet aren't touching the floor. If she falls, she will hurt herself. She tightens her grip on the man’s sleeves.
She is put onto the counter, her feet dangling off the edge. Qiqi blinks at the sight of a feathery body lying in a cage.
She knows without a doubt that the canary is dead.
The man speaks before she can ask him. His face is drooping, drawn lines making him look very tired.
“We have canaries in the mines. To test for poisonous … Bad air. Bad air makes people and animals sick. When there is bad air, the canaries will be restless and chirp a lot.
“We take the canaries away before they are sick but…”
Qiqi looks down at the bird. She can still feel its life thread lingering, a quiet pulse under its dead vessel. Her fingers twitch, and she has to hold onto them tightly.
“Qiqi, can you bring her back up there?” She turns back to look at the man. His eyes met hers with no reservation. “Bury her. I… I want her to be returned to the earth.”
Little canary in a cage, little canary in the dark. Dead. Dead little canary.
Qiqi thinks of her finch friends and there is a coldness in her heart. A sad one, a bad one, one that she doesn’t like. Dead finches and canaries cannot eat seeds out of her hand, they cannot sing nice birdsong, and they cannot fly into the blue sky. They are not alive.
Bring her back up. Bury her.
“Okay, Qiqi promise.”
The man doesn’t speak much afterwards. He puts the dead canary into a nice towel before giving it to her, then he brings her down from the counter. Qiqi holds the wrapped little bird gently in her hands as she walks back to the table, setting it down briefly to put her notebook into her bag.
Her bag was taken by the sad man. She looks at him. “This bag is heavy.”
“Dr Baizhu tells Qiqi to carry it. It has… herbs and jars and… bandages. For healing.”
“... I see.”
He puts it on instead and pats Qiqi’s head, giving her a smile. Qiqi thinks a smile looks much nicer on the man than tears. “Come on, I’ll walk you back.”
Dr Baizhu had scrunched his brow when he saw the man beside her but he did not say anything except give Qiqi a nod. Qiqi made sure the man was between her and Dr Baizhu so Changsheng would not smell the canary in her hands.
Changsheng’s beady eyes linger on her anyway, her tongue flickering many times. It makes Qiqi feel uneasy and her body agrees. Though there is no wind, she gets goosebumps all over her arms.
Qiqi holds the canary closer to her chest, and the stillness of both their chests makes the weakening phantom pulse even more pronounced under her fingertips through the layers of fabric.
Hurry, Traveller. Hurry, please. Or it will be too late… too late.
❆
Dr Baizhu does not leave Qiqi her normal instructions but Qiqi remembers what to do. Go back to Bubu Pharmacy, and leave the bag with medicine in Bubu Pharmacy before doing callisthenics. Don’t go to the cold hill, because the scary warm girl is there.
Finish all the callisthenics. Go back to Liyue Harbour, back to Bubu Pharmacy when the sky starts to turn purple.
Order: Go up to Qiqi’s room.
Qiqi puts the bag behind the counter, before going up the steps. The steps are steep and long. She wants to go faster but her body is slow. It must be tired, this is what the body feels when living children use too much energy.
Healing takes a lot of energy too. Qiqi reaches her room, pushing open the door. Her room is small and simple, under the roof of Bubu Pharmacy at the very top of the building.
Six walls and two windows, in the corner a simple bed with purple bed sheets that’s untouched. A chest of drawers, a low table and two stools, and some storybooks Dr Baizhu bought for her.
Qiqi doesn’t spare a second glance at these walls. After all, she does not spend much time here. She unrolls the little canary out of the cloth, setting it on the table. Qiqi placed one finger on its fragile breastbone, closing her eyes.
Nothing.
Nothing.
Nothing.
Nothing.
Lub dub.
Qiqi opens her eyes, watching a cloud of mist spread in front of her. My breath… Her body must have held it in.
Not too late.
Small little canary, dead little canary. She held the bird in both her hands, cupping it gently between chipped nail polish and bone-white fingers.
Qiqi held the little canary in her hands and in the cold darkness of midnight in an unlived-in room, gave herself an order.
Order: Summon Herald of Frost, and bring back little canary.
There is only one thing Qiqi did not tell Dr Baizhu. It is the fact that there is a thread in every living thing, soft and pulsing.
It is not fanciful, nor does it glow. It is a simple red string, taut and sometimes trembling, a line within a vessel. Qiqi calls it a life thread. She can feel her own in her chest.
But it is not the same for her. She is a zombie, she is dead; her life thread is not red. It is dull and grey, frayed, worse for wear. Qiqi sees it trailing in her, through her arms, her fingertips, the tip of her slightly decayed toes.
Proof that her body is dead. Her life thread does not react. It is just there.
Life threads tremble and fray when sickness takes hold. Some that cannot be healed with her vision. A sickness in the heart, a heart that’s too cold.
Qiqi closes her eyes and feels for the canary’s life thread under her fingertips.
It is always cold, the vessel. Dead, limp, pliant. The thread is frayed and often twisting away, difficult to grasp. Like trying to catch the wind in her hands. Qiqi presses her fingers to the bird and searches .
A loose line, a red flicker. Not too late. Further, more. More, inner. She walks into the darkness, the abyss of empty space.
Dead little canary, lonely little canary, scared little canary. I know how you feel, I died too. Come back, I made a promise.
Pointy-eared friend told Qiqi that she must always keep a promise.
A coldness is spreading. Qiqi is close.
A warmth permeates her hand; it does not hurt, nor does it make her feel hot and sticky. She pulls on the thread, follows its length as it coils around her. Up and up and away from the darkness, away from death, back up into her room above Bubu Pharmacy.
There is movement under her hand. Qiqi opens her eyes.
A little, alive canary stares back at her.
❆
The canary is tucked into the crook of Qiqi’s arm as they lay on the bed, Herald of Frost circling around them.
“Qiqi never asked the sad man for canary’s name.”
The canary just stared at her, and save for its body occasionally twitching, Qiqi might have thought it was still dead.
Maybe little canary doesn’t want to live. Birds don’t understand life and death like children, like humans. Qiqi was a child once, and that child was scared of dying. Perhaps little canary wasn’t scared of death while it died?
Qiqi thinks little canary is very brave. Death is inevitable, Qiqi knows this now. But the rustling of feathers on her undead skin reminds her of her own heart beating furiously in her final moments, a plea to the heavens.
I don’t want to die.
And the gods’ answer was in the form of an icy vision.
Despite her poor memory, Qiqi could never forget the fear she had felt.
Animals feel emotions too. Little canary must be feeling confused now, lost. Scared. What… What can Qiqi do?
Qiqi leaves the bed slowly so as to not jostle the canary. She drinks some water, before pushing her lips outwards like she saw the Traveller do.
No sounds left her mouth, a funneled breath that was mostly air. Qiqi tried again. She tries and tries until something leaves her lips. A whistle, just like the Traveller taught her to, like how her finch friends sing to each other.
Qiqi whistles slowly, a tune coming into mind that she doesn’t remember. She doesn’t remember, yet somehow she can follow it anyway, and so she whistles. A tinny tune traversing in a too-small room, two undead beings sitting on a stool with only the moon’s light for company.
Qiqi realises the canary has stopped shaking, merely resting its head in its puffed-out feathers.
❆
Qiqi is patting the little canary when she realises it has not eaten or drunk water.
She carries the birdseed she has over to the bed but the canary doesn’t eat it. If Qiqi doesn’t eat or drink, she will become dizzy and her body will move slower, become weaker.
Qiqi cannot force the little canary to eat or drink. But if little canary were to remain alive, it needs to be with Qiqi always. Always by her side so she can use her vision to heal it, keeping its body healthy and life thread intact.
Little finches have family, friends. They fly in the sky and sing in trees. Little canary can’t do that if it must be by her side.
Little canary stares at her again. Two beings with no heartbeat, no pulse save for their life threads, only both of theirs are also grey and cold. Its eyes are black and though Qiqi sees light within, it is a muted one. Dim, quiet, confused.
Perhaps, little canary didn’t want to die, but had accepted its death. This makes Qiqi sad. Herald of Frost swirls around them, its chilly embrace reminding Qiqi her vision is the sole reason she can live.
One day... will Qiqi no longer be scared of dying?
❆
Qiqi cannot become sleepy. She is a zombie, after all. But making Herald of Frost spin around time is taking all of her already depleted energy from the busy day.
It is okay. The end will be soon. Qiqi picks up the little canary. The bird looks at her, its exhaustion palpable, wings no longer glossy the way a living one is.
I want to sleep now, its eyes tell her. Dead, the light merely a false filament she had managed to draw back.
The undead might not be alive, but neither are they living if they do not harbour any desire to. And Qiqi’s gift may be a kindness to her, but it can also be a curse.
“Sorry,” Qiqi tells the little canary. “Let’s go.” I won’t keep you here.
The sky is turning purple as she steps out of Bubu Pharmacy, little canary in one palm and the other against the handle of a trowel.
Qiqi goes up stone steps, one foot at a time. Up, up and up all the way to Yujing Terrance. To the path where she plays with her finch friends. Finch friends that sing birdsong, fly in the blue sky and hop merrily over grass with glossy feathers.
Herald of Frost now rests on her lap. Just a little more. Qiqi sits down beside the stream, leaving the trowel on the ground behind her. She won’t need it yet.
The little canary raises its head for the first time, perhaps recognising the sky above it. It flutters its wings then, answering an instinctive response, a calling back to nature. Returned to the earth.
What does one do with wings, if not to soar into boundless blue skies?
Just like how Qiqi didn’t want to be alone that night, when she ran between towering, foreign buildings, lost and terrified — like how she had made friends, her desperate desire to protect others.
Qiqi lays the back of her hand over the little canary. “Not yet, little canary.”
Sad little canary, cold little canary, undead little canary.
The sun’s glare enters Qiqi’s eyes and she, at last, dismisses Herald of Frost. Order: Complete.
The little canary dies in the end, in that brilliant red sunrise on the horizon, feeling the sun’s warmth for one final time. Dead little canary, returned to earth.
Qiqi buries the canary away in a bright, sunny patch of green grass so that it can see clear blue skies forever.
She promised the man and she did as she promised, just like pointy-eared friend told her so. Little canary in a cage, little canary in the dark.
Little canary, now in sunlight, returned to the sky and earth, wings finally set free.
Qiqi cannot go against the wheel of life. Her vision does not work like that. Only the living will have the strength to stay in this world.
What she and her vision can do is make sure anything or anyone that comes in her path will be loved and at peace.
No living being, not even animals, should have to die like Qiqi did — cold, alone, and forgotten by the rest of the world.