Chapter Three: The Street Written into Being

He entered neither. The visions were too perfect. The real Lin Xi's hands had shaken while she wrapped him, and she had called him an idiot. This sister was gentle as an obituary. Su stopped before an old Calendar Bureau. The white-robed man sat inside, writing names. “Little Mi,” he said. “Come home.” She stepped toward him. Characters in the paving stones lit beneath her feet. Lin dared not call her name—the first day's rule still held here. Instead he tore a corner from the burned map. Damage answered damage. The bureau's roof split open. The illusion became a hollow shell. The man's face remained blurred, but his seal read SU HENIAN, MASTER OF THE CALENDAR. “She has already died for all of you once,” he said. “Why bring her back?”