Chapter 8: The Rein

The abbot gave Yanzhi a room in his own courtyard, with a paper window and a very good bed.

He also gave him a rule, and Yanzhi hated it.

"For seven days," the abbot said, pouring tea with a hand that did not shake, "Jingmo keeps vigil in his cell. You will not see him."

"Why?"

"A choice made in someone's arms is not a choice." The old man set the pot down.

"If he takes the vows, I want him to take them for himself. If he walks away, I want that to be his own choice too."

"And if I disagree?"

"You are a guest. Guests are welcome to disagree." He smiled. "Quietly."

The courtyard had a wall twelve feet high, a gate with two exorcists in black and white on it, and a stone well.

The yellow talisman was fixed to Yanzhi's left arm.

He tested it on the first afternoon.

He walked to the gate, and the talisman hummed.

He took one more step, and a line of fire ran up his arm into his shoulder.

His knees buckled, and the exorcist on the left yawned.

"Don't," said Brother Zhiyin, who had come in with a tray and a look of enormous cheer.

"The rein is tied to the Warden's bell. He feels everything. It's disgusting."

"How far does the rein reach?"

"The courtyard. The well. The privy. Not the kitchen." He set down the tray.

"I'm told the kitchen is not on the list because I threatened the Warden's cook with a ladle."

Yanzhi laughed, and then he put his face in his hands.

"I don't understand," he said. "He said not today. Why did he say not today?"

"Ah." Zhiyin sat down on the bench, round and comfortable. "What do you think?"

"I think he's afraid of what he'd have to give up."

"What would that be?"

"Me."

"Or himself," said the cook. "Eat your soup."

Yanzhi ate the soup, and that night he did not sleep.

He lay on the very good bed with the paper window silvered by the moon and listened to the exorcists pacing below.

The burn of the rein pulsed on his arm like a second heartbeat.

At the fifth hour of the night, there was a sound on the roof.

A tile shifted.

Something heavy dropped to the flagstones outside with a grunt, and Yanzhi was out of bed and at the window before he could think.

The paper slid aside.

A big shadow stood in the moonlight, in grey robes, with a bare head.

"Don't speak," said Jingmo.

"You're supposed to be in your cell."

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