Until We Meet

55| Live

🥀

Clinging to the cold iron bars, my fingers scraped against the rough texture as I shifted from one bar to the next, desperate for a clearer view of the approaching figure emerging from the shadowy depths of the prison. Jing Yi and Zhen Lan mirrored my actions, their eyes darting nervously across the dimly lit cell.

A wave of dread washed over me as my gaze fell upon a pair of familiar black dui li – sturdier boots favored by martial artists. Even amongst those who wore them, these possessed a distinctive design, the soles boasting a unique pattern rarely seen.  And then there was the hanfu – the intricate woven pattern adorning the black silk a dead giveaway.

It had to be...

As I lifted my head, my heart pounded a frantic rhythm against my ribs. Two guards flanked the figure, his form obscured by the flickering candlelight. But then, with each deliberate step closer, a flash of blue revealed itself – a mask, its cerulean hue stark against the grimy stone walls.

I stumbled back, the iron bars biting into my palms. My breath hitched in my throat, caught in a silent plea. He moved forward slowly, his presence a tangible weight pressing down on the cell.  A million questions swirled in my mind, churning like a tempestuous sea, yet I stood rooted to the spot, my voice stolen by a mixture of fear and relief.

He came to a halt before our adjoining cells, his keen eyes sweeping over the cramped space. His voice, when it finally came, was a low rumble, carrying a hint of authority.  "Shí fèn zhōng (十分钟; ten minutes)," he declared, the guards behind him bowing curtly before retreating towards the exit.  With a metallic clang, the guards flanking my cell stepped aside, unlocking the heavy wooden door.

"Shifu!" I cried out, a single word that burst from my lips like a dam breaking. Before I could even think, I was launching myself into his arms, burying my face in the familiar warmth of his hanfu. Jing Yi remained by the bars, her eyes flitting between us, a flicker of hurt crossing her features as I clung to him. Zhen Lan, ever the observer, remained silent, his gaze tracking the guards' movements and the solitary figure standing across from us.

A single tear escaped my eye and traced a path down my cheek as I held him tightly. But to my surprise, his body remained rigid, his arms hovering awkwardly at his sides. The echo of Xu Feng's words reverberated in his mind, a heavy weight settling in his chest. "Her gaze is more of an admiration towards a master," he had said. The doubt gnawed at him, a seed of uncertainty blossoming within.

With a resolute shake of his head, he squeezed his eyes shut, forcing himself to maintain a professional distance. He gently nudged me back, his touch light as a feather. Jing Yi, her lips pressed into a thin line, turned away, her body radiating silent anger. The atmosphere in the cell hung heavy, thick with unspoken emotions. 

Panic clawed at my throat as I inspected Shifu.  From his boots caked with grime to the tense set of his shoulders, I scanned him for any sign of injury. Tears welled in my eyes, frustration battling with relief. His usual warmth was replaced by a chilling distance.

"Shifu, are you alright? Did they hurt you?" My voice trembled, a stark contrast to his stoic silence.

My question hung heavy in the air. Jing Yi mirrored my concern, a frown etching itself onto her face as she watched the exchange. The silence stretched, thick with unspoken tension.  Zhen Lan, unable to bear the suspense any longer, slammed his fist against the bars.

"Did you betray us? Are you working with them?" His voice boomed, laced with raw accusation. Zhen Lan's outburst seemed to break something within Shifu.  He flinched, his gaze flickering away from the accusatory glare.