As she grumbled, she unwrapped the bandages from his face. She dipped her fingers in a dab of green ointment and bent down to carefully apply it, as if repairing a priceless work of art.
He stared at the all-too-familiar face just inches above him and flew into a rage.
"Huh, what kind of look is that?" She finished applying the medicine, patted his face, completely ignoring his angry glare, and called out to the outside, "Lü'er! Prepare hot water and bandages! Oh, and anesthetic! We need to start plugging the hole."
"Coming right away!" Greenie replied from the outer room.
"Dead woman." He finally used his tongue to push out the cloth stuffed in his mouth, panting, and said, word by word, "So fierce. This year... she probably still hasn't gotten married this year, has she?"
"Bang!" Without hesitation, a medicinal pillow hit his face, which had just been treated with medicine.
"Say it again?" Xue Ziye touched the handful of silver needles she had just pulled out and sneered.
"Gurgle." The snow harrier on the perch was startled awake. Its black bean-like eyes darted around, and it let out a mocking cry.
"You heartless, feathered beast!" He was stunned by the blow and overwhelmed by her imposing aura, so he didn't dare to retaliate immediately. He could only mutter curses at the hawk, "I'll pluck your feathers tomorrow!"
"Gurgle." The snow hawk let out an even louder laugh and landed on Xue Ziye's shoulder.
"Miss, it's ready!" Greenie called from the outer room, carrying a tray with a large roll of bandages and medicine. Four other maids worked together to carry a large wooden tub into the room, where it was steaming hot.
"Okay." Xue Ziye waved her hand, shooing away the bird on her shoulder. "Then let's get ready to begin."
Ah... am I going to be surrounded by these women again? He thought to himself with a touch of self-mockery.
He must have enjoyed this treatment for at least four out of the past eight years.
Xue Ziye walked to the bedside, lifted the blanket, and looked at the dense bandages all over his body. Her eyes lost their earlier teasing tone: "Ah Hong, bring Jin'er, Lanlan, and Xiaocheng over here and take good care of him—this time we need to be very careful. There are thirteen major injuries and twenty-seven minor injuries in total. Not a single one can be wrong."
"Yes!" the maids answered in unison.
He was slightly startled as he watched the women approach with all sorts of instruments in hand: he was all too familiar with this kind of treatment... Red, orange, gold, blue, green, the maids taught by Xue Ziye were all highly skilled, and when treating people's external injuries, their movements were so synchronized that it was as if a person had eight hands.
As soon as one hand makes the incision, several other hands immediately begin to remove debris, mend blood vessels, clean the wound, and suture and bandage it. Often, it only takes a moment, before the patient has even had time to lose blood, before the wound is treated.
But... he has too many injuries today. Even with eight hands, I'm afraid it wouldn't be enough time.
However, just as he thought of this, his mind began to gradually become hazy.
"The effects of the anesthetic are starting to take hold." Lanlan fed him the medicine, carefully observing the reaction in his pupils.
"Alright, let's begin."
Xue Ziye held a sharp silver needle in her hand, her eyes cold and resolute, like a god who could reverse life and death.
Such a long... such a long dream.
The most terrifying thing is that he knows perfectly well that he is dreaming, but he can't wake up.
In the boundless, deep black, someone was running and laughing. It was a girl in red, running while looking back, with a smile that haunted his dreams: "You idiot, come and catch me... If you catch me, I'll marry you!"
He wanted to chase after them, but he couldn't move; his body felt as if it were nailed to the ground.
So she ran farther and farther away... and he could never catch that elfin girl again.
"Please, spare Chonghua, spare us!" the woman pleaded tearfully before he departed.
"I wish I had never met you." The young woman, dressed in mourning clothes and holding her child, accused him, each word dripping with accusation, "You've ruined my life!"
With each word he uttered, it felt as if a bloodstained sword had pierced his heart, leaving him utterly wounded.
Autumn Water... Autumn Water... No, that's not how it is!
He tried to shout, but no sound came out.
Why isn't he awake yet? Why isn't he awake yet! How much longer will this torment continue?
"Oh, Miss, look what's wrong with him?" Greenie noticed that the person soaking in the wooden tub of medicinal soup suddenly started breathing rapidly, his face turned pale, fine beads of cold sweat appeared on his forehead, his neck was turning around anxiously, his eyes were tightly closed, and his body was trembling.
"What went wrong?" Xiao Cheng was terrified and quickly checked the medicine in the bucket—the white medicine and muscle-regenerating powder in the bucket was what she had prepared.
Xue Ziye simply shook her head gently and placed her hand on the forehead of the person in the bucket.
“It’s nothing,” she said. “It was just a dream.”
It was just a dream—if dreams could kill. The person, covered in wounds and soaking in the medicinal soup, was trembling slightly. The expression on their face seemed to have countless things to say, yet their throat was being choked.
“Qiu Shui… Qiu Shui…” He wanted to say something urgently, but he could only murmur that name repeatedly.
She sighed: It seems that what has caused him so much pain all this time is still that woman.
——Qiu Shuiyin.
It had been eight years since she last saw that woman.
Eight years ago, she officially inherited the Medicine Master Valley and established a new rule: based on the Resurrection Decree, she could only see ten patients a year.
That winter, Huo Zhanbai, weary from his journey, carried Mo'er to the Medicine Master Valley by the Mohe River with the stunningly beautiful woman. He produced a Heaven-Returning Token, begging her to save his child, who was not yet a year old. At the time, he himself was also severely injured—he had fought off countless powerful enemies to obtain this golden token of immunity from death, coveted by everyone in the martial arts world.
Both of them looked so anxious, almost as if they would give their own lives for the child's. She took the pulse of the dying child, and just as she shook her head in distress, the two of them knelt down outside the door.
At that time, she still thought they were Mo'er's parents.
After a month of deep contemplation, she still couldn't cure the child's illness and had no choice but to return the Resurrection Token to them. However, unable to resist their desperate pleas, she reluctantly wrote a prescription. And so, the man before her began eight years of wandering and hardship.
For eight years, she saw him return time and time again with medicinal herbs, collapsing in front of her covered in blood.
She had thought he would give up halfway through—after all, no one would risk their life, repeatedly treading the line of fire, to gather the almost impossible prescription for a child with whom they had no blood relation.