[The Arrogant Peony]
Shortly after Luo Ye and Ling Dang left the medical tent, a new patient arrived. It was a young lady of noble bearing, limping and radiating a mix of pain and haughty irritation.
"Physician, look at my mistress's foot! She twisted it!" her maid cried.
Sang Qi didn't even look up from his herbs. "Take off the boot."
The lady, Li Furong, frowned. "Be gentle. I am not some commoner you can just manhandle."
Sang Qi smirked coldly. "If the ligament snaps, it won't care if you're noble or common. Do you want to hurt for a moment, or cry for an hour?"
With a swift crack, he set the bone. Li Furong screamed, tears pricking her eyes. "You... you have no heart!"
"The one with a heart left long ago," Sang Qi replied dryly. "If you want sweet talk, find a poet. I'm busy saving lives."
[An Interesting Specimen]
To Sang Qi's surprise, Li Furong didn't storm out. Instead, she watched him with growing curiosity. "I am Li Furong, from the richest house in the land. Everyone bows to me. You are the first to speak to me like this."
"Am I supposed to be honored?" Sang Qi asked, unfazed.
Li Furong laughed, despite the pain. "Interesting. Most men tell me what I want to hear. Only the ones with sharp tongues tell the truth."
[The Frequent Patient]
Over the next few days, Sang Qi's tent became Li Furong's second home. One day it was a twisted ankle; the next, a scratch from a flower thorn.
"Are you cursed by the God of Misfortune?" Sang Qi sighed, rubbing his temples as she showed him a tiny red mark on her wrist. "I've seen bad luck, but you're a walking disaster."
The maid almost blurted out, "It's because she wants to see you!" but a sharp look from Li Furong silenced her.
When Sang Qi handed a jar of salve to the maid instead of applying it himself, Li Furong's eyes dimmed with disappointment.
"Does your 'wealthy beyond measure' estate not have its own doctors?" Sang Qi asked.
"They do," she smiled, her eyes glinting. "But none of them are as... skilled as you, Physician Sang."
[The Silent Watcher]
Back at the soup kitchen, Ling Dang hid in the shadows, her bandaged hands tucked away. She watched the rhythm of the kitchen—the fire, the knives, the steam. She was determined to be useful, to repay Luo Ye's kindness.
Every time she remembered Luo Ye grabbing her hand to take her to the doctor, her heart did a frantic little dance. She covered her face with her hands, her ears burning red. How embarrassing... but so warm.