My brush whistles across the canvas, my hands painting at a speed just past what my eyes can follow. Details take form as I watch. Wooden walls and windows, a roof and a dock, a ke and a forest.

  As I draw, I feel energy draw forth and leave my body into the painting. The surface seems to move and shift slightly, as the painted trees sway and the ke in the background ripples.

  With a final flourish, I lift my brush away from the page.

  A wooden cabin beside a ke, a quiet oasis in dark woods.

  A pce of safety.

  Sign it

  Like a whisper, Xiu’s memories speak to me. But I have no name. With what name do I sign it? Do I simply use Xiu’s?

  Perhaps it’s time I gave myself a name.

  Yī … nuò. Yes, that should work. Yī nuò

  一诺

  Right now, my promise is everything to me. If I do not keep it, then I am no one. This name fits me well.

  With a final quick stroke, my name takes its pce on the canvas. Ripples flow outward from the characters, permeating through the rest of the image. I feel it open up, as though it were a door. And if I were to reach forward, I could push my hand straight through.

  Should I try?

  My hand reaches slowly, shivering, closer and closer till-

  “Dinner time Madam”

  I jump in fright before pressing my hand to my chest.

  I didn’t realize I was focusing so intently. Before I knew it, the sun had already set. This work took me the entire day to make. I slowly begin packing away the paints and brushes beneath the floorboards before quickly straightening out my dress and rising to my feet.

  I call back to the servant, “I’ll be there in a moment!”

  A weary sigh escapes my breath as I finish hiding the paints and pull the futon back over the loose floorboard.

  The painting can wait for another time.

  I step out of the room and am immediately greeted by not one servant, but four. All waiting in a neat bow.

  “The master has requested your presence. You’re permitted to eat at his table today”

  Xiu's husband? The man who pushed her to her breaking point? What could he possibly want to speak to me about? In Xiu's memories, she rarely saw the man except for the odd times when he'd personally come to beat her.

  I wordlessly followed behind the servants as they led me to a dining room. And there sitting at the table was Xiu’s husband Hàorán.

  A wide and greasy man, with a sour expression on his fat lips. Despite how ugly he was, an odd feeling of power filled the room. A feeling so at odds with the sight of him that I almost ughed.

  Xiu had good reason to fear the man. He might be an abusive fool, but he appeared to be far from weak. What scared me the most however wasn't the choking atmosphere that surrounded him, but the metallic scent of blood that sloughed off of his stained robes.

  Who could say how many lives had been taken by this man.

  He gestured to me slowly while looking up at me with his sunken eyes.

  “Xiu… take a seat”

  A shiver ran down my back as his gaze roamed over my body. The bitter taste of disgust filled my mouth.

  I searched through Xiu’s memories for a moment just to make sure my doubts were unjustified only to be met with a horrifying realization.

  Xiu had been taken by the man. Forcefully too it seemed…

  I narrowed my eyes as I sat at the table.

  Rest in peace Xiu. I’ll make sure to end this man myself. Whatever it takes.

  “In a few days Xiu a few traveling Daoist's will come to speak with me. They will be here for two days. During the time they are here, I want you to stay out of sight. Do you understand me?”

  “I do”

  “Good”

  Only one word, but it carried the threat of what he’d do if I didn’t obey.

  The food was good, but I couldn’t bring myself to enjoy it with the crushing atmosphere and the scent of blood. I simply ate my fill, and then silently left.

  Hàorán looked up, but said nothing. Only looking back down again, and resuming stuffing his face.

  I make my way back to my room, walking faster and faster until finally I burst into my room and sm the door behind me.

  I gasp for air, clutching my chest as the pounding of my heart slows.

  I grit my teeth as anger overwhelms the fear. I refuse to live under his fist as Xiu had. I have to find a way out. Whatever it takes.

  When these visitors show up, perhaps they will take pity on me. Whether I beg, or stow away with them without their knowing. They might just be the means of escape that I need.

  My eyes are drawn to the painting I had made earlier. And slowly but surely a pn begins to take form in my mind.

  The Daoist's, The painting…

  It will have to be done at night, but if I am lucky, It will work.

  Escape might be closer now than it’s ever been.