Bai Qingqing shook her head again and again, lifting her tear-reddened eyes. “It’s not your fault. You’ve done nothing wrong. It’s those vile people trying to harm the Bai family.”
She straightened the sachet at Bai Rui’s waist, staring blankly at the deep blue fabric. If only Ah Rui had had something on him for self-defense back then—would he still have fallen into their hands? And what about her? The few meager skills she was barely proud of—couldn’t she use them to protect the ones she loved?
“Big Sister, what happened to your hand?”
Bai Rui suddenly grabbed her hand, his pupils shrinking. The tender palm was scraped raw, skin torn open and bloodied—it was a shocking sight. New ɴᴏᴠᴇʟ ᴄhapters are published on ⓝovelFire.net
Bai Qingqing tried to pull back. “It’s nothing, just a scrape. It’ll heal in a few days… Ah Rui, what are you doing?!”
She watched in alarm as Bai Rui slapped himself across the face, hard. She rushed to stop him, her voice tight with worry. “Don’t do this, I’m really fine.”
Regret surged up in Bai Rui like a flood threatening to drown him. What kind of worthless brother was he?
Big Sister, who feared pain more than anyone, had gotten hurt because of him—and hadn’t made a sound about it. He wanted nothing more than to beat himself to death.
Startled and panicked, Bai Qingqing reached for his hand, but Bai Rui froze in place, terrified he might tug her hand and hurt her again. “Hurry, get a physician.”
Madam Qiao came over when she heard and gasped at the sight. “Child, why didn’t you say anything? A girl’s hands shouldn’t be left with scars. I have medicine at home…”
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“No need. I’ve got something right here.”
Bai Jinghuai pulled out a small round porcelain bottle, his expression faintly uncertain. So it really had come in handy? The medicine Ning Yan had given him—it almost felt like it had been prepared for Qingqing all along.
Madam Qiao had no mind to ask where the medicine came from—she snatched it up at once, gently taking Bai Qingqing’s hand and applying it with utmost care, her heart aching. “How could you be so careless with yourself? We know you’re worried, but when you hide your injuries, don’t you think we worry too?”
Bai Qingqing smiled, trying to soothe her. “It doesn’t hurt. I’d already forgotten about it if Ah Rui hadn’t mentioned it. Just a little scrape—it would heal on its own even without medicine.”
Though she said it didn’t hurt, the truth was she’d been so tense earlier that her senses had gone numb. Now that she could finally breathe—seeing her father and Bai Rui both safe—the stinging pain in her palm returned in full force. Yet once the ointment touched her skin, it brought a cooling, soothing sensation that seemed to draw the pain out of her flesh. It was almost magical.
When Bai Jinghuai asked how Ning Yan had come to be at the locust grove, Bai Qingqing explained. She had run into him by chance and begged for his help—never expecting that he would actually agree. She had already made up her mind: no matter what, she would find a way to repay him. Ning Yan was now a benefactor she would remember for the rest of her life.
A flicker of something unreadable passed through Bai Jinghuai’s gaze. By chance? Just a favor? He recalled the way court officials spoke of Ning Yan—how they all turned pale at the mention of his name, careful not to let a single stray word fall into his ears, lest disaster follow.
This was a man who acted without restraint, who feared nothing save the Emperor’s orders. He did not care for consequences, and precisely because of that, he was feared. With such a man, no amount of flattery could win his favor. How could someone like him lend a hand simply because of Qingqing’s plea?
“Of course we’ll thank him,” he said at last. “Our Bai family never accepts a favor without returning it. But it’s getting late. Everyone, go back and rest.”
He paused, then turned to Madam Qiao. “Have the kitchen make more warming soup—enough for everyone, and make sure they all drink it. Especially Qingqing. She mustn’t catch a chill.”
Bai Qingqing nodded obediently, then finally turned to leave, reluctant to part as she returned to her courtyard.