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Chen Xiaojun's hand tightened slightly on the brocade quilt, his knuckles pressing deep hollows into the fine satin. "Since things have come to this, put your grief aside for now. You still need to hold yourself together in front of your great-grandfather."
Zhu Wuneng nodded hard, his ragged breathing tugging at the unhealed wounds beneath his bandages. "I understand... Great-grandfather hasn't woken yet. When he opens his eyes... I won't let him see my sorrow."
He raised his hand and scrubbed fiercely at his eyes, wiping away the moisture with the rough back of his hand and leaving faint red marks.
"Teacher Pu Shuirou and Uncle Shi Yuan are certainly skilled physicians," Chen Xiaojun said, his gaze drifting to the swaying shadows of the trees outside the window, his voice easing a little. "But the world is full of master healers. There must be some way. Also-"
He paused. "Has a letter been sent to my mother?"
A spark suddenly flared in Zhu Wuneng's eyes, like a drowning man catching sight of driftwood. "It's being rushed to Fasno."
In his heart, the Matriarch's miraculous healing hands had scarcely an equal in the world. They were now the only slender rope he could see dangling above the abyss.
Chen Xiaojun turned back, his gaze settling on Zhu Wuneng's face. "Xiao Yi... where is she now?"
"Sister Xiao Yi..." Zhu Wuneng's voice dropped. "...is over at the tournament grounds."
"The tournament grounds?" The calm that had just returned to Chen Xiaojun's eyes froze instantly. "She only woke after sleeping for three days! In this condition, she went off to fight? Does she... really intend to grind her body into dust before she'll stop?!"
Every word seemed