When Feng Jiu’er woke, she found someone had appeared before her.

She reached up with her slender hand and rubbed her eyes. Her vision gradually sharpened.

“Jian Yi?” Eyes wide, she called his name in a low murmur.

After only a brief moment of surprise, Feng Jiu’er was already on her feet, steadying the arm of the man sitting beside her.

“You are not to move around freely right now — lie back down immediately.” She guided Jian Yi to the edge of the bed and gave her order.

Jian Yi did not lie down immediately. He simply looked at her, unblinking.

“Jiu’er, where is this place? Why are you—” He reached out and took hold of her worn outer garment, a faint pain in his eyes.

“Lie down first and then we’ll talk!” Feng Jiu’er pressed down on his right shoulder.

Jian Yi released her clothing and obediently lay flat on the bed.

“Jiu’er.” Whether it was worry that she might leave, he reached out again and took hold of her garment once more.

“Where does it hurt?” Feng Jiu’er sat at the edge of the bed and pressed her hand to Jian Yi’s forehead.

Jian Yi shook his head and closed his hand around hers.

“Jiu’er, you have lost even more weight.” A quiet sigh, and he drew his gaze away from the back of her hand to look up into her face. “Jiu’er — where are we? How long was I unconscious? Have you been the one taking care of me all this time?”

Facing Jian Yi’s eyes — guileless as ever, even carrying a trace of boyish earnestness — Feng Jiu’er could not bring herself to scold him.

He was supposed to be lying completely still, not permitted to move. Goodness only knew how long this fellow had been sitting there awake.

Feng Jiu’er took his hand back in both of hers, tucked it beneath the blanket, and gently loosened the ties of his robe.

“You have been unconscious for three days. We have been traveling steadily southwest. Yesterday, we happened upon a group of refugees fleeing from Yamu City — we are traveling with them now.”

“This place is a small village on the border between Mò City and Yamu City. Normally very few people live here.”

Seeing no blood on the bandage, Feng Jiu’er let out a breath of relief.

“Jian Yi, you have regained consciousness now, but the situation is not yet stable. We need to reach a city as soon as possible so I can perform surgery on you. Otherwise—”

“Jiu’er.”

Without warning, Jian Yi drew his hand out from beneath the blanket and took hold of Feng Jiu’er’s hand once more.

Feng Jiu’er had been watching Jian Yi’s condition closely the whole time. Seeing this, she immediately grew tense.

“What is it? Is something hurting somewhere?”

“Don’t just shake your head — I cannot rely entirely on guesswork to treat you. You must tell me, so I can treat exactly what needs treating. Do you understand?”

These past few days, Feng Jiu’er would be the first to admit she had been a little high-strung.

Seeing him awake now made her heart quietly overflow with relief, but his wound had struck his heart — the road ahead was still long, and she could not afford even a moment’s carelessness.

Meeting Jian Yi’s eyes — guileless to a fault, even carrying a hint of unmistakable innocence — Feng Jiu’er let out a soft breath, and the lines of her expression gentled.

“I am not truly trying to blame you. And I will not abandon you. But I need to know clearly where it hurts.”

“There is no equipment here. I can only rely on experience. Your cooperation, therefore, matters a great deal to my treatment. Is that understood?”

Jian Yi blinked, then suddenly sat up and drew Feng Jiu’er into his embrace.

“Jiu’er, you’ve worked so hard.”

Feng Jiu’er finally understood why he had been behaving so strangely since waking.

He was drowning in guilt.

A quiet sigh, and Feng Jiu’er slipped out of Jian Yi’s arms, took hold of both his, and eased him gently back onto the bed.

“From now on, don’t say things like that — they carry no weight. We are family. None of us will ever leave the other behind.”

“Rest properly. The group sets out early tomorrow morning. From what they have been saying, they hope to take shelter in Mò City. Once we are inside Mò City, we will be safe.”

“But what of the battle for Yamu City?” Jian Yi lay obediently still, not daring to move again.

“For now, Qiao Mu and the others will have to hold. Yesterday, I already sent letters to both Qiao Mu and Zhao Yusheng, hoping they can hold on a little while longer.”

“I want to go back too, but Feng Qingyin will never make it that easy for me.” Feng Jiu’er pressed her lips together and continued.

“Right now, the most important thing is getting your wound treated properly. With your help, wherever I want to go — is that not a far simpler matter?”

Jian Yi said nothing, just watched Feng Jiu’er in quiet stillness.

He understood perfectly well that he was dead weight right now. And yet Jiu’er had not shown even a trace of impatience.

Feng Jiu’er pulled the blanket up around Jian Yi, stood, and turned toward the door.

“Traveling with the refugees gives us some protection — but I am also worried that Feng Qingyin’s people might catch up. Her people are different from the Crown Prince’s soldiers. If harm comes to the others because of us, neither of us would be at peace. So, I plan to set out ahead of the group before dawn.”

She crossed to the table, picked up a bowl of medicine, and returned to sit at the edge of the bed.

She held the bowl in both hands, channeled just a gentle touch of inner energy — and a faint curl of white mist rose from the medicine that had already cooled.

“Can you sit up? If you can, drink this first.”

With one hand holding the medicine bowl and the other wrapped around behind Jian Yi’s neck, Feng Jiu’er eased him upright.

Watching the medicine disappear into him without a single drop remaining, Feng Jiu’er’s heart felt genuinely warmed.

The bowl drained clean, Jian Yi spoke quietly: “Jiu’er, my heart still aches a little. Other than that, I feel nothing amiss.”

“Mm.” Feng Jiu’er settled him back against the bed. “A wound that deep — of course it still hurts.”

“Once I find enough medicinal materials, I will need to perform a small procedure on you. Don’t worry too much — you have a strong constitution. You will be fine.”

“But until I give the word, you are absolutely not to channel your energy. You must not do anything that draws on your true energy. Is that clear?”

“A small procedure?” Jian Yi looked at Feng Jiu’er, brow slightly furrowed.

“Explaining it won’t mean much to you anyway. The point is, as long as you listen to me properly, you still have a good chance of making a full recovery.”

She set the bowl back on the table and settled herself into the chair beside it.

She glanced back over her shoulder, gave a small wave. “Get some rest while you can — it will be dawn soon.”

The words barely left her lips before, with an air of quiet exhaustion, she slumped forward onto the table.

“Jiu’er, come here.” Jian Yi shifted himself inward against the wall. “The bed can spare a little room. Since the time is short, rest here a while.”

“I absolutely will not move. It is too cold — sleeping slumped over the table like that, you will catch a chill.”

“No need — you just rest.” Feng Jiu’er waved her hand and said nothing more.

“If you do not come over, I will not rest either.” Jian Yi was genuinely worried. By rights, he was the one who ought to be hunched at the table — and she the one sleeping in the bed.

Feng Jiu’er gave up. She glanced back.

Meeting Feng Jiu’er’s eyes, Jian Yi’s lips curved just slightly upward.

“Don’t worry. This, I will not mention to Ninth Prince.”

She glanced at the space left along the edge of the bed, brows faintly drawn together. Then she stood, walked over, and lay down with her back turned to Jian Yi.

“Jiu’er.”

“Silence.” Jian Yi started to say something, but Feng Jiu’er cut him off. “Close your eyes, get some proper sleep — not another word.”

Looking at the little head of hair before him, the look on Jian Yi’s face softened with contentment.

“Alright.”