Ants are the best they work and never stop. Unless they're dead then they’ve stopped.

  ~Excerpt from Hao’s first-year book report.

  Hao paused, crouched near the eastern wing by the Screen Gate, inspecting a dry moth carcass. Its wings, though brittle, were still covered in dust armor Wàigōng thought about.

  Click.

  The main gate latch shifted.

  Slow, deliberate steps followed.

  Creak.

  Bang.

  Hao forgot the moth.

  His mind snapped to a new focus. He bolted through the screen wall gate to the main gate, “Hi, Lao Wàigōng! Hi, Lao Nǎinai!”

  He bowed quickly, then pivoted to Nǎinai, bouncing on his toes. “I can help?”

  Nǎinai chuckled, pinching his cheek. “Xiao Hao, please let your Mama and Baba know we are here.”

  Wàigōng raised a hand in a silent greeting, eyes half-closed with his pseudo-bow. The scent of strong, bitter herbs clung to his robes wafting over Hao’s senses.

  Hao nodded up at Nǎinai, then hopped twice before pivoting. Changing directions is easier after jumping.

  He ran back through the Screen Wall Gate, cutting through the quartered courtyard Xinyi and Baba trained.

  Up the Main House steps.

  Outside shoes, (Off, Off, Off!)

  Barefoot, he ran across the smooth wooden floors, thrilled at the texture, yet dreading the groat in the corner room kitchen’s stonework.

  He dodged it veering erratically across the smooth gray stone centers. “Nǎinai and Wàigōng are here!”

  His momentum carried him too fast.

  He nearly tripped, stumbling to an abrupt stop nearly touching the groat.

  Baba grabbed a soaking rice bowl. “Tell Nǎinai we will be right there.”

  Hao shuttered, staring at the unglazed ceramic exterior. It made his skin prickle just thinking about it.

  He reached into his right-hand pocket, rubbed his fingertips on the polished spoon he kept. The smooth surface soothed the fantom texture pain crawling up his arm. His shoulder loosened. The sensation settling from his mind.

  Then ran from the kitchen.

  The wood floor of the main house calms his senses further. The hum of Baba, Mama, and Xinyi’s Chi faded behind him as he rushed towards the Main Room entrance.

  Wàigōng was just stepping up to the Screen Gate with Nǎinai as Hao shoved his feet into his outside shoes.

  Hao opened his mouth, then snapped it shut. (We don’t yell at elders) Mama’s rule.

  He finished and scrambled to his feet.

  Nǎinai smiled at him as he ran up. She nodded towards the Eastwing Wall of the courtyard. “What happened here?”

  Wàigōng’s gaze swept over the damage. First the cracked wall, the broken roof tiles, and then scorched family training dummy.

  Hao looked back at the debris. “Oh, that was partially my fault. But not completely.”

  Wàigōng’s expression darkened. “Tao, you damage the house?” He sounded disappointed. “You are not old enough to do casting drills. Why would you do this? I expected better.”

  Hao’s stomach dropped. (Tao?)

  He tilted his head. “I’m Hao, Wàigōng, Uncle Tao is in Baishi up north. And it wasn’t me.”

  Wàigōng’s brows furrowed. His certainty wavered, like an overly wet brush bleeding the paper.

  Nǎinai cleared her throat, speaking slowly. Carefully. She rested a hand on Wàigōng’s arm gently. “Hong, we’re here to see your daughter, Mei, and my son, Wei. They’re handling this.”

  Wàigōng’s voice softened. “Xiao Mei is married?” There was a flicker of sadness, then clarity. He looked at Hao again. “This was Xinyi’s casting, wasn’t it?”

  Hao nodded. (Wàigōng forgot me for thirteen seconds.)

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  Then said. “Yeah. It was Xinyi. But I startled her. I was telling her what I heard at school about the World Gate and she blew up the dummy.”

  Nǎinai sighed. “I assume she normally doesn’t cast this much uncontrolled.

  Hao frowned. (Why would blowing up the house be normal?)

  Nǎinai muttered. “Well, she can answer for herself I can see them now.”

  Hao straightened. “Oh don’t walk around there the roof tiles could fall.”

  At that moment Mama, Baba, and Xinyi stepped out from the main room.

  Xinyi glares at Hao.

  He shrugs back at her.

  Mama takes Wàigōng’s arm. “Dinner isn’t ready yet. Would you like some refreshment or would you rather wait for the meal?”

  Wàigōng paused, then started to follow Mama’s lead. “Tea would be pleasant.”

  Nǎinai, meanwhile, wrapped Baba in a brief hug, then surveyed the eastwing wall. “So, the kids blew up my bit of the house, I see.”

  Baba exhaled sharply, glaring at the cracked wall and scorched dummy. “Yes, I have set Xinyi’s punishment. She will while fasting completing the Chen Forms one hundred times, without error. But I still need to decide on Hao’s.”

  Hao froze, stomach twisting. (Chen Forms take three to five minutes per cycle. That’s… seven to eight hours. While fasting. That seems inefficient.)

  Then Baba turned to him. “Hao, you will be punished for interrupting a training in progress. Which we’ve told you is dangerous to do.”

  Hao braced for some long apology he would need to write.

  “Your punishment,” Baba continued. “Is to measure all the damage and inventory the supplies needed for repairs.”

  Hao’s fingers twitched. He immediately began counting the missing roof tiles. “That doesn’t seem like a punishment.” He tilted his head. “I’d like doing that anyway.

  Xinyi gave him a wide-eyed stare.

  He frowned back at her. Continuing. “Xinyi’s punishment is way worse. That doesn’t seem fair.”

  Xinyi shook her head in shock at him for some reason.

  Nǎinai laughed, her tone light and confusingly amused. “Wei, he wants a fair punishment.”

  Baba’s lips twitched. “Then let’s make it fair.” His eyes settled on Hao. “You will give me the raw material list, but you will not be allowed to explain why you made these determinations.”

  Hao’s jaw dropped. His heart sank. “But, if I can’t explain, I could be wrong. And then I can’t fix it.”

  Xinyi rolled her eyes. “Mama and Wàigōng will reach the table soon. Should I go prepare the tea?”

  Baba nodded at her. “Set out rice cakes too.”

  Hao watched as Nǎinai and Baba headed towards the main room. He was still processing his punishment, turning it over in his mind. (The task is fun if I am able to be right, but I could be wrong now.)

  Nǎinai gestured back at the cracked wall. “Where should I stay while things are fixed?”

  Baba nodded towards Hao. “The kids will sleep on mats in the main room. You’ll take their space.”

  Nǎinai smirked. “Part of the punishment?”

  Baba simply grunted in affirmation as he stepped inside, removing his exterior shoes.

  At the Mainroom table, Wàigōng sat with Mama, waiting on the tea and rice cakes.

  Hao wanted to ask if the Wàigōng and Nǎinai had heard him when he brought up the world gate closure.

  He didn’t know how to ask.

  The adults were talking.

  Wàigōng was complaining to Mama that Tao doesn’t visit enough despite Tao visiting last month.

  Hao’s finger tapped lightly against his leg. (That’s not right either.)

  Hao took a seat, listening.

  Nǎinai and Baba were discussing the sleeping arrangements. If repairs weren’t finished before the Autumn break, they’d have to adjust.

  Hao sat up. “The World Gates closure might affect the trip. Do you think it will open before then? I really want to ride the boat.”

  Nǎinai smiled at him. “No matter what happens with the gate your Baba and Mama will take you on a boat even if it's just to visit up north.”

  Xinyi kicked his chair leg as she passed him, pouring tea into the set-out cups.

  Before Hao could ask why, Wàigōng cut in. “The Gate is closed? That’s only happened in times of war and conflict.”

  Hao nodded excitedly, gesturing to Wàigōng. “Exactly, you told me all about the Gate to Bradorram during the Merchant War.”

  Baba picked up a rice cake as Xinyi returned to the table. “That was a war over Matter Shaping Chi access. The Gate to Hozho on the other hand their Chi’s are not as lucrative for a nation to control access to it.”

  Wàigōng gestured at Xinyi and Hao. “Mei and Tao will need to decide if they will make the trip to Aenoria, or Hozho for their third Chi type”

  Baba paused, glancing at Mama. “We were choosing between Hozho and Gyam.”

  Wàigōng froze. Just for a second. “Yes… yes, Gyam would be a good choice too. I’ve wanted to go to Hozho. It’s a shame the gate is closed.”

  Hao frowned. “Wàigōng, you went to Hozho with Mama before I was born. She told me.”

  Xinyi’s foot slammed into his shin under the table.

  Hao yelped, jumping in his seat. (What was that for?)

  Before he could demand an answer, Mama stood abruptly, her eyes watery.

  “I’m going prepare dinner,” She said. Then softer, “Hao, come help me.”

  He rose immediately, but not before pulling on Xinyi’s sleeve. “Wàigōng is forgetting things.”

  Xinyi pulled she sleeve away. “I know! Good help Mama.”

  Hao hesitated. His gaze flicked to Baba, Wàigōng, and Nǎinai, still talking about the Hozho tribe the People of the Giant Red Trees that live near that World Gate.

  His fingers twitched against his spoon. “Why are we letting him forget?”

  Xinyi’s glare was sharp. “We aren’t letting him forget. He just is. Shut up and go help Mama.”

  Hao rubbed the spoon in his pocket turning towards the kitchen.

  Up ahead, Mama blew her nose.

  “Is it the pollen Mama?” He asked avoiding the groat.

  She gave him a puffy-eyed smile. “Something like that.”

  Her voice was a little too quiet.

  She gestured towards the counter. “The Onions are already cut. Can you mix them with the other ingredients?”

  He nodded.

  Then without thinking, he hugged Mama. “Feel better soon, okay.”