Seeking for Help

Suyin's heart raced as she approached Qin Fuhua, her fingers grasped the fabric of his sleeves. She felt a surge of panic as he pushed her away with an abrupt force, his expression a mixture of surprise and irritation. "What are you doing?!" His voice sliced through the tense air, his stance defensive as he stepped back from her. But Suyin couldn't tear her gaze away from the evidence of his sacrifice.

"What is that?!" Her voice trembled with a mix of astonishment and concern. The realization hit her like a bolt of lightning. When she had plummeted from the cliff, she should have collided harshly with the unforgiving edge of the rock.

Yet, somehow, Qin Fuhua had intervened, cushioning her fall with his own body. "That is nothing of your business" His words were sharp, laced with a coldness that sent a shiver down Suyin's spine.

She reached out again, desperate for answers, her fingers seeking solace in the fabric of his sleeve.

But Qin Fuhua evaded her touch, his resolve unwavering. "That isn't a concern?! That was from the fall earlier, wasn't it?! Why did you do that?!"

Suyin's voice rose with each word, her frustration bubbling to the surface.

With a surge of determination, she pushed Qin Fuhua toward the side of the pavilion, causing him to stumble against its sturdy frame. Ignoring the sting of his rejection, she glanced down at his sleeves, searching for any sign of injury before he stepped away once more. "So you could save the Princess. If you got wounded, who would cure her?!"

His words echoed in the hushed silence, their weight settling heavily upon Suyin's shoulders. She lay there for a moment, stunned by the revelation, her gaze fixed on Qin Fuhua's imposing figure towering above her. It dawned on her then, the truth that had been hiding in plain sight all along.

Of course, the Prince of Qin wouldn't have acted so recklessly if it weren't for a purpose that served his own interests. Her significance to him paled in comparison to her role as the medic of his beloved sister. With a sigh, she turned to Weizhe, her voice steady as she addressed him.

"I'm ready to go to my room." Weizhe nodded in understanding, offering a silent farewell to Qin Fuhua before leading Suyin away from the scene, back to the safety of her chambers.

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Suyin had found herself settling into the sprawling expanse of the Qin manor with surprising ease, the days melting into one another as she navigated the delicate balance of her newfound responsibilities. Amidst the opulent halls and ornate chambers, she carried the weight of a secret that threatened to consume her, a truth too heavy to bear alone. Areum was taken in to keep Suyin accompanied, so she wouldn't feel alone in an unfamiliar environment. The urge to confide in Areum tugged at Suyin's conscience like a relentless tide, but she knew all too well the consequences of such a revelation.

To expose the truth would not only shatter the carefully constructed facade of the Prince's reputation but also jeopardize Areum's safety.

It was a burden she could not bear to inflict upon Areum, no matter the cost. Instead, Suyin found solace in the guise of devotion, her feigned concern for the little Princess serving as a convenient cover for her prolonged stay. It was a role she played with practiced precision, her every move calculated to maintain the illusion of duty and dedication. Yet, despite her proximity to the heart of the manor, Suyin remained an outsider in her own right, her path never crossing with that of Qin Fuhua or his attendant, Weizhe.

Their secluded courtyard stood as a silent barrier, a physical manifestation of the distance between them. Separated by more than mere walls, Suyin and Areum resided in the quiet confines of the East wing, a world away from the extravagance of Qin Fuhua's domain.

Here, in the shadow of the Princess's chamber, Suyin kept a vigilant watch over her fragile health, her nights spent in restless vigil as she monitored every fluctuation in Chuhua's condition. The Princess's health plagued her relentlessly, each episode of muscle pain a stark reminder of Suyin's own helplessness.

Despite her best efforts, the herbs she administered provided only fleeting relief, their efficacy temporarily at best.

It was a bitter truth that gnawed at Suyin's conscience, a reminder of her own limitations in the face of Chuhua's suffering. As the night deepened, Suyin hovered at Chuhua's bedside, her gaze lingering on the sleeping form of the Princess. The flickering lamplight cast shadows across the room, illuminating the delicate features of the child who lay so still beneath the covers.

With a heavy sigh, Suyin brushed a strand of hair from Chuhua's brow, her heart heavy with the weight of uncertainty.

As Suyin turned to leave the room, her mind already drifting to the countless tasks awaiting her beyond the threshold, she was halted by the soft sound of her name on Chuhua's lips.

"Suyin?"

Startled, she pivoted on her heel to face the young Princess, her expression a mixture of surprise and concern. "Yes, Princess?" Suyin's voice was gentle, a soothing balm to the child's troubled soul as she approached her bedside. Chuhua's gaze, usually bright with curiosity and mischief, now held a weight of uncertainty that tugged at Suyin's heartstrings. The child's question hung heavy in the air, a poignant reminder of the fragility of life and the innocence lost to the harsh reality of illness. "Can you honestly tell me something?" Chuhua's voice trembled slightly, betraying the depth of her apprehension. Suyin's breath caught in her throat at the raw vulnerability in the Princess's words. This was the moment she had both anticipated and dreaded, the moment when she would be forced to confront the stark truth that lingered in the shadows of Chuhua's fragile existence. "Of course, what's wrong?" Suyin's reply was steady, her voice laced with a quiet resolve as she settled herself beside Chuhua, her hand reaching out to offer comfort. And then, the question came, hanging in the air like a heavy cloud of uncertainty. "Will I die, soon?" Suyin's heart clenched at the innocence and fear in Chuhua's words, the weight of the child's mortality pressing down upon her like a suffocating blanket.

It was a question that echoed the silent fears of every parent, every caregiver, every soul touched by the specter of death. For Suyin, it was a moment of reckoning, a reminder of the purpose that had driven her to become a Doctor in the first place.

It was a purpose born out of tragedy, fueled by the memory of her beloved nephew lost too soon, a purpose that now lay heavy upon her shoulders as she searched for the right words to ease Chuhua's fears. "I won't let you die, at all, no matter the cost," Suyin vowed, her voice unwavering in its determination. "I know that it's hard for you to keep going, but no matter what, your brother and I will find a way to cure you." Chuhua's eyes glistened with unshed tears, her small frame trembling with the weight of her emotions. But there was a glimmer of hope in her gaze, a spark of belief kindled by Suyin's unwavering resolve. "I believe in you, Suyin. Thank you," Chuhua whispered, her voice barely above a breath as she closed her eyes, surrendering to the solace of sleep. "Good night, Princess," Suyin murmured softly, her hand lingering for a moment on Chuhua's brow before she rose from her bedside, her heart heavy with the weight of the promise she had made.

Suyin closed the door to Chuhua's room with practiced silence, her movements fluid and precise as she turned away from the slumbering Princess. Yet, before she could fully retreat into the solitude of the corridor, a presence loomed behind her, its unexpectedness jolting her senses into high alert. "Areum, before you go to sleep, make sure that I have a couple of Ying Yue's flower lilies left for tomorrow," Suyin commanded, her voice carrying a note of authority as she addressed her presumed companion.

But to her surprise, there was no response, no acknowledgment of her words. Confusion furrowed Suyin's brow as she turned, expecting to find Areum's familiar face, only to be met with the unexpected sight of Qin Fuhua standing before her.

The shock of his sudden appearance sent a jolt of adrenaline coursing through her veins, her hand instinctively flying to her chest as if to calm the frantic beat of her heart. "What the hell?! You frightened me," Suyin exclaimed, her voice laced with a mixture of irritation and relief.

It had been too long since their last encounter, the memory of their tense confrontation still fresh in her mind. "The Princess is sleeping if you were going to see her," Suyin announced, her tone clipped as she struggled to maintain her composure in the face of his imposing presence. Inside, a flurry of emotions swirled, ranging from frustration to a begrudging admiration for his ability to catch her off guard.

"Hm."

Qin Fuhua merely grunted in acknowledgment, his demeanor as cool and aloof as ever as he began to wander aimlessly, his hands tucked casually behind his back. Suyin watched him go, her curiosity piqued despite her better judgment.

It was a rare sight to see Qin Fuhua wandering the halls at this hour, his presence a stark contrast to the usual tranquility of the manor. As he passed by her, Suyin couldn't help but wonder where he and Weizhe had disappeared to, their absence a lingering mystery that tugged at the edges of her consciousness.

With a resigned sigh, she pushed the thought aside, focusing instead on the flickering candles that illuminated Qin Fuhua's path as he made his way back to his secluded courtyard. In the soft glow of the moonlight, Suyin watched him disappear into the night, his figure receding until all that remained was the distant echo of his footsteps fading into the silence.

Suyin's footsteps faltered as she found herself drawn to the main courtyard, the pull of curiosity too strong to resist.

With a heavy sigh, she sank onto the lush grass that carpeted the center of the courtyard, her thoughts swirling like leaves caught in a tempest. "Sigh. The Prince was just here a while ago."

The words escaped her Weizhe, the frustration and exasperation seeping into his voice as he voiced his inner turmoil aloud. Purposely walking near Suyin to hear.

"Seems like his bandage was unattractive on his arm. It's a SHAME that there isn't anyone that can HELP wrap it because everyone is so fearful of him." The sound of Weizhe's voice hung in the air, as she turned her head towards the sound of approaching footsteps.

There, weaving through the corridors with an air of nonchalance, was Weizhe, his presence a stark reminder of the divide that separated them from the Prince's inner circle. "Aurgh. Damn you, fool," Suyin muttered under her breath, a wry twist of irony lacing her words as she played on the phonetic similarity between "Fuhua" and "fool."

Despite her frustration, she couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy for the Prince's attendant, burdened with the unenviable task of tending to his master's wounds. As a doctor, Suyin couldn't simply turn a blind eye to someone in need, regardless of their status or reputation.

The thought of leaving Qin Fuhua's injury untreated gnawed at her conscience, a silent accusation that echoed in the recesses of her mind.

She could already envision the whispers of condemnation that would follow if she allowed him to suffer needlessly, the blame unfairly laid at her feet. With a resigned shake of her head, Suyin pushed herself up from the grass, determination burning in her veins as she set off toward Qin Fuhua's quarters.

Whatever the consequences, she couldn't stand idly by while someone suffered, even if that someone happened to be the Prince of Qin.

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As Han Suyin approached Qin Fuhua's secluded courtyard, her steps quickened with a sense of purpose. The flickering glow of the flower lanterns lining the bridge cast dancing shadows across the tranquil waters, guiding her toward her destination.

Even from a distance, the aura of isolation that surrounded Qin Fuhua's domain was palpable, a silent testament to the Prince's cold nature. With determined strides, Suyin crossed the bridge, her grip tight on the roll of cloth and bag of herbs clutched in her hand.

She pushed open the gates to Qin Fuhua's courtyard, the creak of wood echoing in the stillness of the night as she made her way toward his chamber. "I'm here," she announced, her voice tinged with a hint of irritation as she entered the room.

Qin Fuhua reclined with an air of casual indifference, a steaming cup of tea in hand, clad in nothing but his inner garment.

The fabric hung loosely against his form, revealing a glimpse of his bare chest beneath its dark, navy hue. Suyin averted her gaze instinctively, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment at the unexpected sight. Despite her professional demeanor, the sudden exposure left her feeling flustered and ill at ease. With a hasty movement, she averted her eyes and dropped the items she had brought, covering her face with her hands in a gesture of apology. "S-Sorry!" she stammered, her voice muffled by her palms as she scrambled to gather the fallen supplies.

Her cheeks burned with embarrassment as she avoided Qin Fuhua's gaze, her heart pounding in her chest. Though Suyin was well-versed in the intricacies of the human body, her professional training did little to quell the discomfort of such intimate encounters.

Her respect for privacy and propriety outweighed any medical necessity, her instincts as a medic tempered by a sense of courtesy that refused to be compromised. Inside the chamber, the silence hung heavy between them, broken only by the quiet rustle of fabric as Qin Fuhua moved about the room. Suyin kept her back turned to the door, her posture rigid with tension as she waited for him to don a thicker robe and reemerge from the depths of his private sanctuary.

In the dimly lit confines of Qin Fuhua's chamber, a tense silence enveloped the air, broken only by the soft shuffle of Qin Fuhua's movements as he donned a thicker robe. Suyin stood with her back to the door, her senses on high alert, her focus trained on the sound of his approach. "What is it?" Qin Fuhua's voice cut through the stillness, his head poking out from behind the partially opened door. Suyin spun around to face him, her expression a mask of determination as she met his gaze with a furrowed brow. "Come out, I'm going to treat your arm," she commanded, her tone firm and unwavering. "I'm going to sit at the bench here, so hurry before I lose my patience and hurry back to sleep. I'm losing sleep time here." Qin Fuhua's expression remained impassive, his features betraying little emotion as he nodded in acquiescence.

Without a word, he followed Suyin to the bench in the courtyard, his movements fluid and silent as he settled himself beside her. Suyin wasted no time in preparing her makeshift medical station, arranging her tools with practiced efficiency.

A small knife glinted in the dim light, poised and ready for use, while the thin roll of cloth lay neatly beside a pouch filled with ground herbs. A thicker cloth awaited its purpose, its pristine white fabric a stark contrast to the muted tones of the courtyard. "Where is it?" Suyin's voice was steady as she examined Qin Fuhua's arms, her gaze searching for any sign of injury beneath the layers of fabric.

But Qin Fuhua's expression remained inscrutable, his features devoid of any discernible emotion as he met her probing gaze with a blank stare. Undeterred, Suyin pressed on, her fingers deftly probing the fabric of his robe until she pinpointed the source of his discomfort.

With a firm insistence, she urged him to allow her to proceed, her touch gentle yet determined as she slid his sleeve down to reveal the injured area. "There it is," she murmured, her voice tinged with satisfaction as she prepared to administer her treatment.

Despite Qin Fuhua's stoic demeanor, Suyin sensed a flicker of vulnerability beneath his mask of indifference, a silent acknowledgment of the trust he had placed in her capable hands.

Suyin couldn't suppress a chuckle as she inspected Qin Fuhua's haphazardly wrapped arm, the sight of the disordered bandage eliciting a momentary lapse in her professional composure.

"Who did this?" she teased, a playful glint dancing in her eyes as she fought to contain her laughter.

But Qin Fuhua's reaction was far from amused, his snarl a stark reminder of his aversion to such levity. "I did it!"

The sudden interruption came from Weizhe, his voice ringing out as he emerged from the bushes with an air of self-satisfaction.

"Qin Fuhua wanted to wrap it himself, but I proposed to help him. Is it good?" Before Suyin could respond, Areum intervened, her exasperation palpable as she dragged Weizhe back into the cover of the bushes.

"Weizhe! I told you to be still, geez!" she scolded, her tone a mixture of frustration and affection as she ushered him away with a bucket in hand. With the unexpected interruption quelled, Suyin and Qin Fuhua exchanged bemused glances, their confusion mirrored in each other's eyes.

It was a rare moment of shared understanding, a fleeting connection forged in the midst of chaos. But Suyin wasted no time in returning her focus to the task at hand, her fingers deftly unwinding the shoddily wrapped bandage to reveal the injury beneath.

The superficial cut had already begun to heal, the raw flesh now concealed beneath a thin layer of scabbing. With practiced efficiency, Suyin cleaned the wound with a mixture of herbs, her movements precise and deliberate as she worked to prevent infection.

Despite the distractions and interruptions, her dedication to her craft remained unwavering, her focus unwavering as she tended to Qin Fuhua's injury with care and precision.

Suyin's gaze softened with a hint of remorse as she tended to Qin Fuhua's wound, her fingers deftly working to apply the healing herbs with gentle precision.

The weight of responsibility hung heavy upon her shoulders, a silent reminder of the consequences of her actions. If only she had been more vigilant, and more attentive, perhaps this injury could have been avoided. "If I don't take care of it now, it would have become a scar," she murmured, her voice tinged with regret as she glanced down at the wound.

It was a small price to pay, perhaps, but it was a reminder nonetheless of her mistake.

"Does it hurt?" Suyin questioned, her focus shifted from rolling up a new bandage.

"Mn." Qin Fuhua's response was a simple grunt of acknowledgment, his gaze fixed on her with an almost childlike curiosity. Suyin couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy for him, a reminder of the vulnerability that lurked beneath his stoic facade. With practiced efficiency, Suyin finished wrapping the bandage around Qin Fuhua's arm, her movements fluid and precise as she adjusted the knot with care. It was a simple gesture, but one that spoke volumes of her dedication to her craft. "There," she declared, her voice soft yet firm as she stepped back to survey her handiwork.

With a nod of satisfaction, she began to gather her supplies, her mind already turning towards her next task.

"If it is relevant for you, there is a temporary cure for the Princess." Qin Fuhua's words stopped her in her tracks, his unexpected offer catching her off guard. She turned to face him, her expression a mask of suspicion as she weighed his words carefully. Did he truly understand the gravity of her situation? Or was this merely another ploy to further his own agenda? "Although, finding the medicine won't be easy. I will need your assistance," he continued, his tone betraying a hint of urgency beneath his usual calm facade. Suyin narrowed her eyes, her mind racing with possibilities. She knew the risks of getting involved with Qin Fuhua, of allowing herself to be drawn into his world of intrigue and deception. But she also knew the stakes were higher than ever, the life of the Princess hanging in the balance. With a resigned sigh, Suyin made her decision. Whatever his motives, whatever the cost, she would do whatever it took to save Qin Chuhua. Even if it meant aligning herself with the Prince of Qin.

"What is it?" Suyin relented, her curiosity piqued. She had little to lose anyway, so why not entertain the proposal? "There's a village nestled high in the cradle of the mountains, within the territory of the Qin and Long clans," Qin Fuhua began, his voice carrying the weight of urgency.

"Atop the dense forest canopy lies this village inhabited by mountain folk, renowned for their robust army and resilient spirit. Among them resides someone with the knowledge to procure a temporary cure for the child. Enough to grant her respite for at least a year." Suyin's brow furrowed in contemplation. "How did you come by this knowledge? And why involve me?" Though Qin Fuhua was more than capable of embarking on the journey alone, the notion of his soliciting her aid puzzled her. "The situation is dire," Qin Fuhua confessed, his gaze unwavering as it locked with hers. "Half of the village has been stricken by a mysterious illness, marked by agonizing rashes that mar their bodies. Despite their leader's reluctance to concede defeat, they are desperate for aid, willing to barter anything in exchange for salvation." There was a solemn earnestness in his tone, a vulnerability that betrayed his desperation. It was evident that Qin Fuhua's plea stemmed from a place of genuine need.

He had been absent for days, consumed by his quest to rectify the village's plight. "My knowledge in the medical arts is limited," he admitted, a flicker of frustration dancing in his eyes. "And my friend Wansun, who possesses greater expertise, has ventured to the city of Zhaoguan in search of herbs and medicines. His absence will be prolonged, and I am reluctant to disrupt his efforts for aid."