When Hongyi opened her eyes again, the warm yellow light made her dazed and confused.
Her eyelids felt as heavy as lead, and she struggled to open them. Her body was weak and aching, her throat dry and burning. Instinctively, she tried to sit up and pour herself some water, but the moment she moved, pain shot through her chest so fiercely it brought tears to her eyes.
She gasped sharply and finally managed to open her eyes amidst the pain. She looked around—the room was empty.
Placing a trembling hand over her aching chest, she lowered her gaze to find white gauze wrapped around her wound, faintly soaked in blood.
Her gaze hardened.
She didn't know how long she'd been unconscious, but she remembered everything before that. God knows what madness possessed Xilin Chuan—he had suddenly shot an arrow at her without warning. Pain exploded in her chest, and she collapsed.
She recalled Lǜxiu's terrified voice shouting as she caught her, the surrounding chaos, and her own desperate attempt to speak. But her strength drained rapidly, and she couldn't utter a word. The pain had furrowed her brow, her breath shallow and weak.
Amidst the fear and chaos, everything suddenly fell silent.
Her muddled thoughts cleared slightly with the abrupt stillness. Someone had approached, stopped nearby, and then she heard—
"If she's dead, bury her."
It was Xilin Chuan's voice.
Not as full of hatred and disgust as the night he first spoke to her—this time, it was flat, devoid of emotion. His indifference to life was terrifying.
The door creaked open. Snapping out of her thoughts, Hongyi looked up.
Lǜxiu froze in surprise before breaking into a relieved smile. "You're awake?!"
She carried a sandalwood tray with bowls and dishes—it was mealtime.
Hongyi tried to sit up, but the pain in her chest soaked her in a cold sweat.
"Don't move." Lǜxiu rushed to her side, setting down the tray and helping her up, smiling as she spoke with feigned cheerfulness, "You've slept for four days. I thought you might never wake up. Lucky to be alive."
Hongyi said nothing. She accepted the porridge bowl, held it for a while, and then asked, "Lǜxiu... did I really never offend the young master?"
Lǜxiu paused, then shook her head and sighed, "Of course not. Why would I lie to you? Maybe... maybe he just missed his target. It wasn't aimed at you."
"Do you believe that?" Hongyi looked at her with a bitter smile. "He said, 'If she's dead, bury her.' If it was just an accident, would he be that cold?"
Most would try to save even a stranger's life. Yet toward one of his own household, he acted like he hoped she would die.
Clearly, no physician had been called to tend to her. Her wound was only bandaged, and there was no scent of medicine—none had been used.
He intended to leave her to die.
"Hongyi, we are of low birth..." Lǜxiu bit her lip, struggling to offer advice. "Our lives aren't our own. Just... don't fixate on this. The young master dislikes you, so avoid him. Save your monthly wages. When it's enough to buy your freedom, have him release you..."
Hongyi's breath caught. For the first time, she truly understood what it meant to have no personal freedom in a feudal world.
.
The frustration and confusion from such unfair treatment turned into bone-deep fear by the next day.
Perhaps because her body was weak and caught a chill, she began coughing severely during the night. Every cough pulled at her wound, robbing her of sleep.
By dawn, she was weaker than ever. Her breath was shallow, nearly undetectable, and her chest felt heavy—oxygen-deprived.
She knew this couldn't go on. She wasn't ignorant of medicine—untreated colds could become pneumonia, even fatal.
There were no antibiotics in ancient times. She couldn't delay. Without medicine, she would die.
Suppressing her coughs to avoid worsening her injury, Hongyi waited until Lǜxiu arrived, then blurted, "Lǜxiu... is there medicine?"
A coughing fit overtook her. Her flushed face looked abnormal. Lǜxiu panicked, pacing in confusion, nearly crying. "Why are you so sick? The young master ordered that no one tend to you... I... I can't summon a physician."
"I can't wait like this..." Biting her lip until it bled, Hongyi forced herself up and grabbed her robe, trembling as she dressed.
"But... what can we do..." Lǜxiu's eyes welled up helplessly.
"He said no one else may help me, but he didn't forbid me from leaving, did he?" Hongyi gasped as she put on her belt. She leaned on a small table with one hand and Lǜxiu with the other, rising slowly despite the pain. Through the tears, she grit her teeth. "I'll go to the clinic myself. I... won't wait here to die."
Though weak, she moved steadily. Knowing her own condition, she pushed forward on sheer willpower. Even Lǜxiu was trembling with fear, but Hongyi made it through the corridors and pavilions to the main gate without another cough or tear.
Before they could call for a servant, the gate swung open.
They both froze. Hongyi looked up, a bitter smile tugging at her lips. "Of course. Trouble never comes alone."
Xilin Chuan stepped through, pausing briefly in surprise, then walking over with a cold gaze. "Where are you going?"
Eyes downcast, Hongyi rasped, "To the clinic."
He sneered, then turned to Lǜxiu. "This has nothing to do with you. Go back."
"Young Master..." Lǜxiu hesitated, still holding Hongyi, and pleaded, "She's gravely ill. Please... show her some mercy."
"I never said I wouldn't," Xilin Chuan said, glancing at her before focusing on Hongyi. "If she wants to go, she can go alone. No one needs to accompany her."
Even in this unfamiliar era, Hongyi understood that "no need" meant "not allowed." He was deliberately making things difficult.
Fighting the urge to argue, she knew getting treatment was more urgent. Angering him could mean he'd block her path entirely.
She pulled her arm from Lǜxiu's, gave her a weak smile and a nod. "I'll go alone."
Ignoring both of them, she leaned on the wall and continued walking slowly toward the gate.
Xilin Chuan watched her unsteady steps for a moment, then turned back into the residence.
.
Since entering the Xilin residence, Hongyi had never stepped outside. She didn't know where the clinic was. She asked a local patrol officer and finally found it.
The physician was shocked by her wound and pallor, surprised too that a woman came alone. But he treated her with care, had a medical assistant dress her wound, and prescribed internal medicine. After drinking the first dose, she paid and left.
She felt better, though her head remained foggy. Following her memory, she wandered back toward the Xilin residence...
Without realizing, she had exited the neighborhood.
It wasn't until much later that she noticed the surroundings were unfamiliar. The sky was dimming. She had gotten lost. She turned around to retrace her steps.
Walking south along the street, she finally saw a familiar gate labeled "Yanxi Lane."
Relieved, she entered—only to quickly notice something off.
A few men had been tailing her. Whenever she stopped, they pretended to browse nearby stalls. No matter how many times she paused, they were always behind her.
Panic set in.
The darkening sky and shadowy figures screamed danger. She was alone, weak, and helpless. If something happened...
She couldn't even resist.
At the next turn, she darted into a side alley, skirts lifted.
She glanced back as she ran, breath erratic and shallow from illness. Panic fueled her sprint until she exited the alley...
A kick struck the back of her knee. Hongyi cried out and fell.
She looked up in terror as the men surrounded her. One of them sneered and kicked her hard in the waist. A sharp, mocking voice followed:
"Still running, are you?"