ng Jueyan shuffled behind Han Yu, weighed down by the bags and the box strapped to her back. Han Yu glanced sideways at her. Her posture wavered every few steps. One of her legs dragged slightly, a remnant of the torture she had endured.
He wondered how she was even managing to walk with what little strength remained in her crippled body.
He wondered if she even felt pain anymore, or if she had endured enough that her nerves simply refused to respond.
He made a ntal note to tend to her injuries later, but he would need to be extrely careful. Healing a slave was allowed, but showing too much concern was not. Especially when her condition was so poor that most would consider her disposable.
He approached several stalls and counters, purchasing herbs and ingredients in large quantities. His ring filled quickly, so he began handing additional materials to ng Jueyan.
By the ti he was done, she carried two large bags in her hands, one filled with dried herbs and the other filled with assorted Qi materials. The box on her back now held several bottles of spirit liquids, thick elixirs, and fragile ingredients that could not be jostled carelessly.
Han Yu observed the way her shoulders trembled under the weight. She did not complain. She did not ask for rest. She did not even breathe loudly.
Her condition was worse than he expected.
And that worried him.
During their walk back, he looked at her again, this ti with a more clinical eye. Her steps were uneven. The left side of her body was slightly weaker. The scars on her face were one thing, but her posture suggested deeper internal injuries. Her Qi pathways had been damaged. Her muscles had been damaged. Her bones likely had healed incorrectly many tis.
He needed to rebuild her body, but he could not do it all at once. Not without raising suspicion.
Healing a slave too quickly could attract attention. Restoring a crippled slave's Qi pathways was even more dangerous. If anyone noticed spiritual restructuring, it could lead to disastrous questions.
Han Yu could not risk exposing himself or her.
He would need to proceed slowly, subtly, and over ti.
When they finally left the Alchemy Division and made their way back toward the Fifth Rib Peak, Han Yu continued to plan silently. The sky above had already begun to dim into the usual blood red tinge of evening.
ng Jueyan remained quiet. She knew better than to speak unless spoken to.
But Han Yu sensed her exhaustion and the faint trembling in her arms as she held the bags. She was pushing herself far beyond what a normal crippled person could endure.
Part of him admired the stubbornness. Part of him felt a faint ache of guilt. But he could not show it.
Not here.
Not in this sect.
Not even to her.
They climbed the stone paths leading toward the Fifth Rib Peak. The torches along the path flickered crimson, painting their shadows long across the stone. Xuan Qing would be waiting in the cave, her expression as blank as ever, her eyes vacant but obedient.
Han Yu's steps slowed as he considered everything he still needed to do.
Every task was a mountain.
He could not afford weakness.
But he could not afford cruelty, either.
When they finally reached the cave entrance, Han Yu unlocked the door and gestured for ng Jueyan to enter first. She stepped in, her shoulders drooping from exhaustion. Xuan Qing sat exactly where he told her to sit, still as a statue.
Han Yu closed the door behind him, sealing the three of them away from the madness of the sect.
His mind sharpened.
Tomorrow, he would begin the next step.
But tonight, he needed to figure out how to nd a broken body without letting anyone notice the pieces coming back together.
The mont the cave door shut behind them, Han Yu finally let his expression relax. He glanced at Xuan Qing, who sat silently in her usual spot, and then at ng Jueyan, who carefully lowered the supplies she had been carrying. The exhaustion in her movents was obvious. Her body was damaged in ways that even her posture betrayed.
He needed to heal her. And the sooner he did it, the better.
Han Yu gestured for ng Jueyan to stand near the alchemy station, then sent a pulse of spirit sense through her. It swept through her body like a silent breeze, unnoticed by her because of her crippled cultivation.
The scan showed exactly what he feared.
Many of her ridians were still open, but twisted, swollen, and blocked. Stagnant pockets of old blood and impure Qi sat like dark shadows within them. Her Dantian was cracked, the mbrane weak but not beyond repair. It would take ti, careful nurturing, and dicines.
Her muscles were still partially torn in places, improperly nded by ti and malnutrition.
The bones of her ribs and left arm were slightly crooked. Old fractures healed wrong. Her right leg had a particularly nasty twist in the tibia, suggesting it had been broken multiple tis.
Han Yu pressed his lips together.
There was no way to fix these in one go.
No way without raising suspicion.
But with Finger Needle Alchemist techniques, he could disguise the healing under the pretense of "experints."
He straightened. "ng Jueyan," he said coldly, "I am testing a new technique. You will cooperate. Remove your outer garnts so I can access the ridians."
She obeyed without hesitation, chanically. She loosened the layers until she remained in enough clothing to retain modesty, exposing only her arms, legs, and a portion of her back. Everything he needed to work on.
Han Yu appreciated that she instinctively avoided exposing more than required. It made handling this easier.
Her body was covered in scars. So thin lines, so thick welts, so circular marks from branding irons. Many were jagged, the result of being cut or torn open repeatedly. He could imdiately identify dozens of irregular injury patterns that matched the torture thods he had read about in the Slave District records.
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