Pretty Little She-Cat

There! Emika felt it again! Something cold and slithery brushing past her paws.

Squeak!

She tossed her body away from it.

Jian leapt to his feet, sword in hand, and moved quickly towards the sound. But there was nowhere to hide under the alcove. It was an empty space covered with tatami mats, a low table, and a lonely rattan basket. And beside the alcove, staggered wall shelvings displayed vases and incense burners.

Suddenly, Emika was face to face with the mouse. Her heart screamed with fright! She held a breath, not daring to breathe out... Where does this mouse come from? Why is it not scared of me! I am a cat! Grrr! Are you kitten me! Shoo! But the mouse was unflinching.

The rodent's tail almost touched her nose and her heart jumped a few more times until... she could stay still no longer!

She sprung out of the basket, bounced against Jian's feet, and they started a whirling dance around the room involving near captures and repeated escapes.

Her feline instinct started to kick in: she snarled loudly, hissing and spitting, then scrambled between his legs and knocked into Li Ji.

"Jian, you are scaring it!"

Jian put down his sword and moved closer, gesturing towards the cat, "Come here, kitty, kitty," he tried, "calm down little kitty," following by, "I am not going to hurt you." But nothing. Back arched, Emika was still hissing. Before he could step forward to catch her, the green eyed creature was gone in a sparkle of light.

A scaly tail scurrying on the floor.

Squeak, squeak, squeak.

And as simple as that, Emika came back to Jian in a series of flying leaps. She was rubbing her head against his leg, purring loudly.

[Wait a minute, I can purr?]

Jian laughed while scooping up the cat in his arms. "You are just a skittish little cat after all."

"It near enough frightened me to death! What was that cat doing sneaking about like a ghost?"

"I recommended to His Highness to own a cat in order to deter the mice. I see he finally took my advice."

"Ha! But this one is useless." Li Ji looked down on the cat with a grimace and theatrically raised her arms in the air, "Even across worlds, the Heavens must really hate him or else he wouldn't be so unlucky as to find the only one cat scared of mice!" And stabbing the cat with her finger, "It's time to go our separate ways now."

Emika thought she had quite a bad temper.

An imperious voice halted them. "It is—Kiyomi. How many times need I to remind you not to call me—Highness?"

Their eyes turned on the tall stature as he appeared in the doorway of the bedroom, arms folded across his chest. Although he was suffering physically, his demeanour still remained elegant and dignified.

"Yes, Your Highness," both acknowledged him straight away with a head bow , then realising they had said it again they bit their lips.

They sighed.

His thin pale lips split into a smile. A smile so weak that it was hard to distinguish.

"We must be cautious around people. It is treason to use titles exclusive to the royal family. Even more so considering the political instability of this world."

Li Ji strongly retorted, "Please, why could we not address you with the deference due to your status in private? Jian and I still feel uneasy not to use formalities."

"To avoid a slip of the tongue in public. I know that you both still feel that it is improper and discourteous, but this is what got us in a predicament upon our arrival here. Let's not draw undue attention on ourselves again. We do not want our heads mounted on a spike, do we?"

Lowering his head, he turned his attention to the calico cat.

"So, you are not good at hunting mice. Be thankful for your little face is as pretty as a fennec fox. I collect pretty things."

"Your- -Kiyomi," said Li Ji, "there are much prettier cats than this one, and not afraid of mice at that!"

"Indeed there are braver and prettier cats..." he paused. As he spoke, his sharp gaze had landed on the cat—a face scrunched up with grumpiness, squinted eyes, and a twitching tail. Whether this she-cat could actually understand his words or he was imagining it, Kiyomi swore he saw human emotions flashing across her face. "But," he continued, "this cat is truly peculiar, she intrigues and amuses me. She is not leaving."

"As you wish," said Li Ji with a slow nod of feigned understanding.

Her orange-tipped tail raised haughtily, Emika sashayed towards Kiyomi. The ring of emerald green around her black pupils glistened and glared back at Li Ji.

Li Ji swore that this cat had just winked at her with a devilish grin!

"If she is going to stay with us, we should give her a name," smiled Jian . "What about Nuo, meaning 'graceful'? For those paws jump like a dancing ninja."

"Or what about Xiāo, meaning 'a mountain demon'." Li Ji said, a smile on her face but a sneer in her voice.

Kiyomi raised the dark brow further, sharply interrupting their names pondering.  "I will not ask for an explanation but the door need to be repaired. We will think of finding her a name later."

In a spur of the moment, a pain spread from his chest. Kiyomi saw black small dots floating before his eyes as sweat began beading on his forehead. A feeling of weightlessness engulfed him and he staggered to his feet. Jian immediately held out his arm for support.

Stumbling on their way to the bedroom, Li Ji also rushed to help by draping her arm around Kiyomi's waist.

Emika was right on their heels, but Li Ji's foot swerved across her path and swept her aside. Left outside of the bedroom, an anxious Emika was staring intently at the closed door.

Kiyomi sat on the edge of the bed, pallid and fatigued. Li Ji untied the brocade sash around his waist and opened his shirt. On his bare chest, below his heart, was the symbol of that woman's betrayal. Her trembling fingers paused above the scar tissues, and the angry red burnt flesh still refusing to heal after four years. It was worrisome, and all the more so because there was nothing that could be done about it. It was just as the prince's great-uncle predicted if they were to cross over into The Forbidden World.

Her misty eyes barely looking up, "Your Highness—" Kiyomi caught a hint of sobbing in her voice, so he spoke before she could even ask, "I am fine. It does not hurt much."

His black eyes, bright like jewels, locked onto hers reassuringly. But she knew it was a lie. His dilated pupils and the deep furrows in his brow told her so. The pain would not lessen because of one's resilience of willpower: pain doesn't take orders.

The gold speckles in her eyes brightened with tears. Her throat constricted, and she instantly broke eye contact with him: tears wouldn't achieve anything other than making her burdensome.

Jian handed her a little jar of medicinal balm. She started dabbing the soothing paste and gently spread if into the lacerated marks, tracing the path of his burns, which extended diagonally across his chest and near his left shoulder. The lines of the burn covered roughly a third of his torso.

Her fingers paused. Her fingers would always pause.

Kiyomi took her hand and squeezed it lightly between his, as if he was used to this. "Carry on. It does not hurt. Really."

Then Li Ji meticulously wrapped his chest with a clean bandage. As she needled through the gauze under his shirt, his bare skin elicited a pleasant shiver in her body. For the first time, she lingered her touch. She immediately felt ashamed for being disrespectful and pulled back.

She has been the Prince's attendant for many years. She dutifully tended to his everyday needs—acting as fetcher and carrier, companion, nurse, and essentially performing the roles of valet, maid, and cook combined—in a distant manner as expected from someone of her status.

However, how many times the snowy hills had bloomed with flowers, and how many moons and suns had set and risen; before realising that her dutiful feelings had transformed into love? Was a mere palace maid supposed to be cast in love without reason?

To keep him from shivering, she helped Kiyomi into a padded jacket embroidered with floral patterns. It was green coloured. She had specially bought it for it was the colour of health and harmony. She fastened the jacket with the buttons from the right collar down to his knees.

A sudden violent cough shook his body and Kiyomi slightly bent at his waist as some blood rose in his throat. Jian was already by his side handing a tissue.

"What about a drink of medicinal tea?" he suggested.

The Prince showed a hint of a smile and nodded in agreement.

Feigning a cheerful intonation Li Ji said, "Although it does not taste good, it will calm your heart and help your sleep."

Kiyomi wanted to sit in the courtyard and enjoy the glitter in the sky. Emika followed them and plopped herself down on his knees.

Under the moonlight, the fire from the burning charcoal was heating the teapot constantly, boiling the ingredients inside it. It was a mixture of dried up medicinal herbs: dried palaver pods, kidney-shaped black seeds, green serrated leaves, and ginseng root.

Her mind was so adept at compounding according to the right proportions that she did not have to weigh the different ingredients with a balance.

Larger water bubbles started forming fiercely. Next, Li Ji added some crushed linghzy mushroom, peony roots and pentsao bark, then immediately sealed the teapot. She let the tea to be boiled a bit longer before lowering down the fire. After the time it takes an incense stick to burn, she uncovered the teapot and threw in liquorice for taste.

Just by inhaling the fragrance of the hot steam of the opiate based tea, Kiyomi felt a sense of peace and tranquility. He tilted his head, gazing upward at the silver glow of the moon. The beautiful Lady of the Night smiled down at him and it warmed his soul like the fire burning by his side.

Emika glanced at Kiyomi as he gazed up at the night sky, and once more she fell for him like the shooting stars above.

Li Ji finally sieved the decoction into another teapot and added warm water to it. She sprinkled a sweet-smelling blue powder into a cup and poured a little medicinal tea over. The tea fizzed in contact with the powder. After pouring more tea, the foam disappeared.

Kiyomi thought it was rather beautiful the way those brilliant pearls of the nighttime illuminated the darkness around Li Ji.

He gently lifted up his teacup and began tasting the bitter tea slowly.

The way he looked at Li Ji with a soft expression of gratitude pricked Emika's heart. She wanted to own this look.

Kiyomi gently pulled her from his knees to unhooked the claws she had unintentionally unsheathed. He set her back down before sipping the last drop of the opiated tea. From beside his feet, with sad eyes Emika stared up at him, swishing her tail for attention. So he scratched her behind the ears, all the while staring at Li Ji.

Though Li Ji didn't know, Kiyomi saw and knew how she struggled with her anxieties on his account. When she glanced at him secretly—a nibble on her lower lip, her brows deeply furrowed and her eyes misted with unshed tears—she would always betrayed her hidden emotions. He would often wished she would cry so he could comfort her and thank her for her unconditional devotion.

Those beautiful chestnut eyes were afraid to be a part of this world, yet, she would always offer him a reassuring look.

After drinking the opiate tea, his thoughts seemed disoriented, but the tea's healing properties was fast working. The burning in his chest and the crushing pain in his bones had disappeared.

He put his head back and exhaustedly closed his eyes...

When he groggily opened his eyes, he was in his bed. He didn't remember how he got there, and how long he had lost consciousness.

Between wakefulness and sleep, he felt a movement beside him and saw the she-cat curling up her slim body in the empty space between his arm and chest.

Her warmth.

Her soothing purr.

A smile slowly spread and faded across his face.

His eyelids were getting heavier.

His breathing slowed down.

His body sunk into the mattress.

At this moment, countless blurry and chaotic images started to turned up in his mind at the quickest speed.

One moment, he saw begonia red lips of someone that he couldn't see the face.

The next, he was at Chunyan River hugging a woman he didn't recognise.

Then he saw the moon, a bunch of brightly coloured ribbons, and the blood-soaked dagger in his chest.

All of those images were vague and indefinite as if they were blanketed by a thick fog. They were impalpable like the reflection of the moon in a ripply pond.