The day we left Wenyuan Pavilion, the rain fell in fine threads.
I sat in the carriage, looking back at the courtyard with white walls and dark tiles through the gauze curtain. The bamboo shadows swayed in the mist and rain, and for a fleeting moment, I could still see Su Wenyu's radiant expression as he played chess that day.
"Reluctant to leave?" Xiao Yuhuang's voice sounded beside me.
Today she wore a casual outfit the color of the sky after rain, a softer hue that took away some of her usual sharpness, making her features appear even more refined. Over the days we spent together, she no longer watched my every move with urgency; sometimes she would even ask, "Do you want to rest?" or "Do you want to try some local snacks?"
"I'm fine," I said, drawing my gaze back. "The men here can speak freely…"
"You can be yourself with me too. When you recover, I'll bring you here properly."
I was growing drowsy—Qin Gugu's new medicinal concoction included calming herbs that always left me lethargic.
At that moment, the carriage slowed to a stop.
"Master," came a respectful voice from outside, belonging to the leader of the hidden guards. "There's a child ahead blocking the road, appears to be injured."
Xiao Yuhuang frowned slightly. "Go around."
"Wait." I lifted the carriage curtain.
In the mud beside the official road crouched a tiny figure. A boy of about seven or eight, his clothes tattered, a raw wound on his bare leg oozing blood. What made my heart tighten most were his eyes—dark and clear, like a startled fawn, yet he bit his lip hard, refusing to cry out.
In that instant, I seemed to see Xiao Yuhuang many years ago by the icy lake.
The same look in her eyes, stubborn yet fragile.
"Qin Gugu," I turned to her, "can you help him?"
Qin Gugu glanced at Xiao Yuhuang. Silence fell inside the carriage for a moment, until she finally said calmly, "Go see him."
When the child was carried to a dry spot by the roadside, his whole body trembled. Qin Gugu inspected the wound, frowning tighter and tighter. "It's from an animal trap, at least a day old. The wound is starting to rot; it needs to be cleaned immediately."
"Ma… mother…" the boy muttered half-unconsciously.
My chest tightened. Xiao Yuhuang suddenly took my hand in hers, her palm warm. "You can't save everyone."
"But this one is right here," I whispered.
Our eyes met. A complex emotion flickered across hers, and she finally released my hand. "Your choice."
When the child woke, it was already evening.
We had found an inn in the nearest town to stay. He was placed on a couch in the side room; the wound was bandaged, yet his little face remained pale.
I sat at the edge of the bed, watching his eyelashes tremble as he slowly opened his eyes.
"You're awake?" I softened my voice. "Does it still hurt?"
He stared at me for a moment before suddenly struggling to sit up. "You… who are you? Where's my father?"
"You were injured and collapsed on the road. We saved you." I held him down. "Don't move, the wound will tear."
He calmed down then, though his eyes remained alert, scanning the room. Only when he saw Qin Gugu carrying a bowl of medicine did his nose twitch. "Danggui, Sanqi… and Bai Ji? You have a doctor?"
Both Qin Gugu and I were stunned.
The boy was only seven or eight, yet he could recognize herbs through the scent?
"You understand medicine?" Qin Gugu sat by the bed, her tone softening.
The boy pressed his lips together and after a long pause whispered, "My father is the village doctor. I often help him pick herbs…"
"Where is your father?"
His eyes instantly reddened. "Some days ago, there was an epidemic in the village. Father stayed behind to treat the sick and told me to go to my uncle's house in the south… but I got lost, and then wild dogs…"
He spoke in broken sentences, but I understood—this was a doctor's child, separated from his father.
"What's your name?" I asked.
"Nanxing," he said softly. "Father says Nanxing grass can stop bleeding and relieve pain. It's a good herb."
A good name, I thought quietly to myself.
It took a full three days to settle Nanxing.
The boy was so sensible it broke your heart. He gritted his teeth and said nothing while changing his dressing, didn't frown when taking medicine, and even timidly asked, "Can I… do anything to help? I can dry herbs and boil medicine."