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“I’ll get water,” I said, hitching a bucket over my shoulder.

Yufei nodded and watched me go. She knew I always wanted time to myself after big alchemical transformations. Jumping back and forth between planes felt a bit like splitting myself in half. There was the Zilan who lived in the dark, and the Zilan who lived aboveground, jolted from a vivid dream.

Time passed differently by the river—I felt like I’d been there for hours, but the sun was only just sinking into the dusty horizon as I headed down the street to the public well. Wenshu liked to keep his own water that he would reuse for washing throughout the day, but we had to trek to the well if we wanted water for any other purpose. The shops had already closed for the day because no one traveled on the Road to Hell after dark, so for once, I walked the street alone.

My hands moved on their own, hooking the bucket and drawing water up from the well as my thoughts wandered. When I turned around, clutching the bucket in both hands, a man stood before me.

I wondered for a moment if I was still caught between planes, because this man didn’t look like he belonged on our street.

He wore the purple robes of the highest class and shoes so clean that surely he’d never walked a step in his life. His eyes were dark and round, like the water deer that ate flowers at the edge of the city, ready to lope off if startled. He looked about my age, but his skin sparkled with gold flecks, so he might have been my age for a very long time.

He took a small step closer and I nearly dropped the bucket. Handsome men only ever looked at Yufei, not at me.

“You’re ahùnxie, right?” he said.

I nearly bit down on my tongue, the breathless feeling of his attention withering inside me.I’m just a spectacle, I thought.He’s just never seen anyone like me before.

But the young man spoke in a crisp Chang’an dialect, and we didn’t get many Northerners in these parts. What was someone like him doing on the Road to Hell, gawking at me?

“Do you understand me?” he said, misreading my hesitation. “Oh no, I’m not good at dialects. Umm...nei si bat si wan hyut—”

“Stop,” I said in his dialect, grimacing. I’d been told that southern dialects were harder for Northerners to learn than vice versa, and his upside-down pronunciation only confirmed it. I should have just pretended not to understand, but he was too painful to listen to. “I need to go,” I said, turning away. I wouldn’t stand here and be a spectacle for him when dinner was waiting.

“Wait, wait!” he said. I stopped, only because the water was so heavy and my palm hurt from being cut open. “What’s your name?”

“Hùnxie,” I said, “since that’s apparently all you care about.”

He winced. “I’m sorry, I just...” He jammed a hand into his pocket and pulled out a thin brown stem and crumpled purple petals. It unfolded in his palm, five delicate petals spreading out. My breath caught in my throat.

A purple orchid.Zilán.

“In Chang’an, they speak of ahùnxiein Guangzhou who is a great alchemist,” he said. “They say that you can find her name in the fields at the border of the city. I went to the border and this is what I found.” He held up the flower. “I asked around forZilán, and everyone told me to find the street covered in blood.”

I looked between the crumpled flower and his wide brown eyes.People speak of me in Chang’an?Many of the revived dead tended to leave Guangzhou rather than explain how they’d come back to life, but I hadn’t thought they’d ever mention me again.

“It’s you, isn’t it?” the man said, lowering the flower.

For some reason, I couldn’t bring myself to lie. Unlike everyone in Guangzhou with sharp teeth and jagged edges, this man felt like the world after a rainstorm, a morning when the earth was fresh and untilled.

“Chang’an is full of royal alchemists,” I said, rather than answer his question. “If you wanted an alchemist, why come all the way to Guangzhou?”

The man dropped his gaze to the red road. “I have a reputation in Chang’an,” he said, “and the alchemists there can’t do what I need.”

“Which is?”

He looked around, then took a step closer. “They say you can raise the dead.”

The winds died down around us, as if the whole world was listening. I glanced back at the house, where Yufei had left a light burning for me.

When people in Guangzhou came to me for help, I knew who they were, who their families were, where they lived. I never feared them turning me in because no one would cross a skilled alchemist who knew where their children slept.

But I knew nothing of this man. Not even his name.

“You’ve got the wrong person,” I said, turning toward the house. “Good night.”

“I’ll pay you one hundred thousand gold.”

I froze. Slowly, I looked over my shoulder. For a hundred thousand gold, we wouldn’t have to worry about the míngqì shop for the next year, maybe two, if we were careful. Our taro soup would have pork again. We could find a better healer for Uncle and Auntie.