The Nether Sky's Secret

# Chapter 18: The Nether Sky's Secret

Dawn hadn't finished bleeding when they stopped.

The herb path narrowed where mountain folded over itself like a seam pressed too hard. Lichen-dark stone on one side, a shelf of roots on the other. Between them, a hollow that smelled of crushed mint and old smoke. Chen Yunfei set his rebuilt hand against the rock and felt the cold enter through pale skin that had never held a broom, never blistered on a kettle handle, never learned the small honest languages of labor. The arm was correct in shape and wrong in history. It took weight the way a new hinge took weight: without complaint, without memory.