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The girl looked at the unfamiliar ceiling with wavering eyes. She was alive. She shouldn't be alive.
Her being alive would ruin everything. Would the Moon Prince honor his promise to spare her sister? Would he feel betrayed and execute the children as revenge? No, the issue wasn't what he wanted to do, it's what the other noble families, what the people would want. Loulan being alive was a liability.
Bits and pieces of the past came back to her. A guard working in the stronghold—the one that was saved from punishment?—found her in the snow and brought her to a hut used by hunters. It had already been a day or two since then, but on top of her injuries, she had a strong fever that made everything a blur. Even with a fire close to her and an animal hide of some kind covering her, it was still cold.
She was tired. So tired.
Beyond the exhaustion of her body, she was battered by recurring grief and regret. Even if her plans otherwise went as she had hoped, she only saved a handful of people. So many others of her clan were condemned.
Her feverish mind analyzed these long-finished problems over and over endlessly. What could she have done differently? Did she mess up on mixing the children's medicine? Was there any possible way she could have diverted her mother away from the path she took?
Her vision clouded into the endless questions.
She heard movement. The guard kneeled next to her. "It's time to check your injuries, milady. Can you sit up?"
The girl broke from her mind's torment only to be reminded that she was still in the world. It would be better for everyone if she was left to die in the snow. The books that this man had looted were far more important, and the fact that he chose to stay and take care of her instead of bringing them to safety was frankly annoying.
She considered laying still, since after all, what was the point? But some part of her that still placed value in politeness realized that, despite everything, he was still acting out of the goodness of his heart and she should respect that. Resigned, she placed her hands on the floor, a sharp flare reminding her that she was injured in her right arm too, and lifted up only with her left arm. Her chest hurt, but it wasn't quite as bad as past days and she was able to force her way through it.
It was embarrassing having this man examine her like this. He seemed embarrassed about it too, and eager to get through it quickly, only sparing the briefest glances. A paste of medicinal herbs was placed on her still-purple and swollen chest and she laid back down again.
It occurred to the girl that she hadn't taken a close look at her injury before. She had seen it, certainly, but only during her first delirious day. It took until now for her to realize: there wasn't a bullet hole.
The girl's face slowly turned in confusion. As the guard stepped away, she took in a raspy breath. "How did I survive?" she asked.
The man looked at her with a start. He furrowed his brows, as though he didn't quite hear what she said, but before the girl could repeat herself, he seemed to get the gist of it and kneeled down next to her again. He was holding something.
"If you're referring to how you survived the gunshot to your chest, then it's thanks to this."
He held up a silver hairpin. With wide eyes, the girl slowly moved her right hand to it, unheeding of the pain, and held it between her fingers as though it could shatter with too firm a grasp. She rotated it and indeed saw a dent that unmistakably came from a bullet.
All at once, her head emptied. The swirling voices reminding her of her failures and telling her she had no reason to live were silent. Instead, memories, unclouded by doubt, danced.
"I want to wish you good luck."
"It was a gift, so make sure to return it."
The guard continued. "Frankly, the fact that you're alive is—"
"Positively insane," the girl finished.
"I was going to say it was a miracle, but yes, it's quite insane." The man paused when he saw the girl's face.
She stared at the hairpin with shimmering eyes, a smile inexorably forming. This wasn't a fluke or a miracle. This was a choice made by a strange poison-obsessed girl who adamantly refused to see the majesty of the insect world. A girl who would grumble about having to help people with one breath then throw herself into danger with another. A girl who continued to amaze her, even when they were apart.
For the first time since Loulan died, Shisui felt her heart beat. She took a breath, closed her eyes, and slapped her cheeks with both hands, causing the guard to flinch back. She idly wondered if she had taken some of the resurrection drug herself and was only now waking up. Shisui sat up and turned to the man. "I'd like some food. I need to recover as soon as possible." He blinked for a few seconds then got to work.
The meal handed to her was meager, a mix of nuts and bitter medicinal plants, but Shisui still wasn't in a state where she could eat much anyway. She ate it all without question or complaint. Energy slowly returned to her and her thoughts took on a new quality.
All her life was spent on other people. Loulan was her mother's doll. Shisui's childhood was devoted to caring for her sister, and this past few months was a mad scramble to save as much of her family as she could. She had to trust—no, she knew for a fact that they would be safe and comfortable. There was no one left to worry about besides her.
What did she, what did Shisui want to do?
Suddenly there were so many possibilities.
"Milady," the guard said. "You should lie back down."
She was so caught up in her excitement that she had forgotten just how sick she was. Sheepishly, she slowly lowered herself back down and settled under the animal hide that served as her blanket.
"There's no need to address me as milady," she said. "The Shi clan is gone, the woman named Loulan is dead, and I have no real status."
"You are still of noble birth. And in any case, I wouldn't know how else to address you."
Shisui thought for a second. "How about Silver?"
The guard raised an eyebrow. "Is that because of the silver hairpin?"
Shisui laughed lightly. "No good, huh? Well here's an idea, you can keep calling me Milady, but you treat it as a name!"
The guard seemed more confused by this than anything.
She had a defeated smile. "Never mind, then."
"Sorry, I was just surprised to see someone like you making jokes."
"I'm just full of surprises. But as for a name..." She did consider letting him call her Shisui, but no, only a select and very special group of people even knew that name, and she found herself oddly protective of it now. "Sorry, nothing's coming to me. Maybe when this fever breaks. For now you may keep addressing me as milady."
The guard's brows creased. "Very well," he said carefully. After a moment, he added, "If I may ask, milady, did you get that hairpin from someone important?"
Shisui flashed a playful grin. "What, jealous?"
Now that got a reaction out of him, his face turning red. "No, I wouldn't dream of it! It's just, you seem happier now."
Shisui sighed pleasantly, her fingers running over the surface of the hairpin. "Yes, this was given to me by someone I care about deeply." Her eyes lifted ever so slightly. "Honestly, maybe more than anyone else in the world."
The guard nodded in understanding, though he was certainly imagining someone completely unlike the woman inhabiting her thoughts. "It's good that you still have it then. It's the sort of thing that should stay with you forever."
"Nah, I'm going to sell it first chance I get."
The man paused to consider this, and then his arms flailed in surprise. "What?!"
Shisui giggled—or rather, started a giggle before being interrupted by flaring pain in her chest. Still, her smile remained. "I made a promise."
The guard waited for further explanation, but Shisui simply looked at the ceiling. Eventually, he shrugged and started tending to the fire.
There were so many things to do, so many places to see, so many plans to make. To think she thought she had no future just minutes ago.
A life given to her by Maomao. How could she possibly waste something so precious?