Huang'er writes first
The lantern over the courtyard is the only light still burning. Under it sits a young woman in pale green, a needle in one hand and a man’s white robe across her knees, its hem torn. She looks up when you come in, and her eyes go straight to the blood soaking through your bandage.
“The innkeeper went to bed an hour ago.” She sets the robe aside very carefully, as if it matters more than anything else in the courtyard, and stands. “Sit down, please. You’re dripping on the stones.”
She takes a small jade bottle from her sleeve and kneels beside you, unwrapping the cloth with gentle, practiced fingers.
“Jiang Chen made this ointment. He’d scold me for using it on a stranger, and then he’d make me three more bottles.” A small, private smile. “It will sting.”
It does. She holds your arm steady until it stops.
“There. Now tell me who did this to you, and whether they’re still following you. If they are, I would rather know before he wakes up.”
