Bai Qingqing lunged toward the window and peered out. The moment she confirmed it was Ning Yan, she threw open the door and leapt down, running straight toward him.

Ning Yan was giving orders to someone when he caught sight of her from the corner of his eye. Almost instinctively, he raised his hand slightly—just a small, half-conscious motion. But Bai Qingqing stopped dead in her tracks, her eyes fixed on his arm, her face going pale.

There was a strip of cloth tied around Ning Yan’s arm, stained dark with blood. A sharp ringing filled Bai Qingqing’s ears, her vision blurring in an instant. “You’re hurt?”

Ning Yan glanced at his arm and said dismissively, “Just a scratch. Wen Jiang made a fuss and insisted on bandaging it.”

Bai Qingqing didn’t believe a word of it. There was far too much blood on that cloth for it to be just a scratch. Her eyes filled with tears as she stood frozen in place, unable to bring herself closer. Ning Yan turned and shot Wen Jiang a glare.

Innocent as ever, Wen Jiang stepped forward, gently coaxing her as he took her by the arm and led her back. “Really, it’s just a shallow cut. But you know how Ning Yan is—if we don’t wrap it up, he’ll keep tearing it open without a care. It’s nothing serious.”

Not long after, Ning Yan returned as well. He had changed out of his soft armor, but the cloth still remained on his arm. Wen Jiang knelt to remove it and tend to the wound again. Bai Qingqing assisted him silently from the side.

When the wound was finally exposed, Bai Qingqing’s eyes turned red. This was a scratch? It was clearly a deep gash from a sharp blade—she could see the raw flesh underneath.

Fresh blood welled up again. Wen Jiang cleaned the injury, applied new medicine, and bound it tightly with clean cloth. Through it all, Ning Yan showed no sign of pain—his expression unchanged, his face pale but still wearing that faint, unbothered smile.

Outside the carriage, Mu Shu tapped lightly on the window. “Sir, the target has been confirmed to have escaped.”

Ning Yan’s smile deepened as he turned to look at Bai Qingqing’s reddened eyes. He lifted his injured arm slightly. “I’m a wounded man now. I’ll need to rest. As my attendant, I’m afraid you’re going to be quite busy.”

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

He meant it as a joke, something light to ease the mood. But to his surprise, Bai Qingqing didn’t respond—her silence only made her eyes redder, like a frightened little rabbit. Ning Yan immediately sensed something was wrong. “Ah, it’s really not that serious…”

“Brother Wen, what should I be careful about?”

Ignoring Ning Yan entirely, Bai Qingqing turned to ask Wen Jiang with quiet seriousness. Wen Jiang listed out the things she needed to keep in mind, then thought for a moment and added, “I still have a few other patients to look after. Lord Ning’s wound will need fresh dressing every day—I’ll leave that to you.”

Bai Qingqing gasped. “Me? But I don’t know how.”

“Don’t worry, it’s simple. Just like I did earlier. The wound really isn’t too bad—it’s just in a tricky spot. He needs to rest for a while, and you’ll have to make sure he doesn’t move around too much. Best if he stays put in the carriage.”

Wen Jiang demonstrated once more how to change the dressing, then excused himself, saying he had other patients to attend to.

Bai Qingqing quietly began tidying things up. Ning Yan sat nearby, and for the first time in a long while, he felt the faint stirrings of discomfort. He cleared his throat softly, meaning to say something, but before he could speak, Bai Qingqing had already poured a cup of tea and handed it to him—still without a word.

Using his uninjured arm, Ning Yan took the tea. As he watched her busy herself again, he couldn’t help but tug lightly at the hem of her sleeve. “Do you really dislike taking care of me that much? You don’t look very happy about it.”

Bai Qingqing turned her back to him. After a moment, her voice came, low and muffled. “I’m not unhappy. I’m just… sad.”

She stood still, head bowed. “If you hadn’t left someone behind to protect me, maybe you wouldn’t have been hurt. I’m angry at myself, not because I don’t want to care for you.”