Chapter 13 · Survival Menu - Chapter 13: One Sip, No Grave

Qiu hits the floor before I can catch her.

The bowl shatters. Broth spreads across the stone, white porcelain spinning, and her face is already gray. Her lips are blue at the edges. I'm on my knees, hands on her shoulders, shaking her, but she's not blinking. Not breathing right.

Nanny Liu screams something behind me. Footsteps everywhere. Someone's yelling for the physician. I don't care. I grab the ladle from the pot, scoop what's left of the broth, bring it to my mouth.

Yan's hand clamps over mine. Fast. His palm is still bleeding from the cut we made, the one that sealed the deal five minutes ago, and now his blood smears across my knuckles.

"Don't," he says.

I yank my wrist free. Taste it anyway.

The kitchen disappears.

I'm in a dim room. Smells like incense and old wood. There's a table. A burner. A pot on low heat. Someone's stirring the broth, slow, methodical. Their hand moves in small circles. The spoon scrapes the bottom. Once. Twice. They add something from a silk pouch. Powder. Fine and white. It dissolves fast.

I try to see their face. Can't.