Chapter Twelve: The Pitiful Nightscape Pavilion

Chapter Twelve

Setting aside how shocked and delighted Yang Hao was when he witnessed Mei display her abilities—his attitude toward her improved by several degrees—he immediately arranged for her to join the other gifted individuals for training. Fearing she might not be able to withstand the hardship, he even went so far as to offer her a few words of advice, a rare gesture from him.

While those with abilities were superior to ordinary people in many ways, combat awareness was not something acquired overnight. Having powers did not equate to invincibility; without unity between body and mind, even the most gifted would be helpless against a true master.

Mei agreed wholeheartedly, unwilling to be treated any differently from the group, and thus joined in the training alongside everyone else.

At noon, after training concluded, Mei and Lin Shaojie collected their allotted food, feigned a trip home to fetch a medical kit, and then followed him to visit Ye Jingxuan and Qu Wenyuan.

“Hurry in, Mei!” Lin Shaojie opened the door with enthusiasm and ushered her inside.

The apartment was nearly identical to Mei’s—two bedrooms and a living room, sparsely furnished with only the essentials provided by the base. The air was thick with the smell of blood, clear evidence of serious injury.

“Where’s Sister Yuan? Isn’t she here?” Seeing Lin Shaojie return alone from the inner room, Mei couldn’t help but ask in surprise.

“She probably had something to do outside.” Lin Shaojie shook his head, visibly displeased. “Have a seat; I’ll get you some water.”

“No need. I’ll check on Brother Ye and then go. Here’s the medicine; see if there’s anything useful.” Mei declined his offer and handed him the medical kit.

“Oh, thank you so much!” Lin Shaojie accepted it with deep gratitude.

Mei entered the bedroom to find Ye Jingxuan in a deep, feverish sleep.

Back at the temple, Mei hadn’t paid much attention to Ye Jingxuan—not because he lacked presence, but because he emanated too much of it. His cold indifference bordered on arrogance, a natural sense of superiority that Mei found most off-putting. Having been abandoned by fate since birth, she resented those blessed with fortune, those who could easily obtain what others could never achieve, no matter how hard they tried.

That innate envy had led her to ignore him from the start, and only now did she notice his features.

He was, in fact, quite handsome.

His face was strong and well-defined, his sun-kissed skin lending him an undeniably sensual air. His dark, well-shaped brows were furrowed in pain, and a feverish flush colored his otherwise pale, parched lips, pressed tightly together in stubborn defiance. Mei found herself growing fonder of him.

Admittedly, she was a lover of beauty—a face enthusiast, as people here would say. Ye Jingxuan’s looks played no small part in her decision to help him; yet what truly moved her was his unwillingness to surrender. Only those who have weathered hardship and endured can shine with true brilliance.

Perhaps Ye Jingxuan was just such a person.

For that alone, Mei resolved to lend him a hand.

Lifting the thin blanket, she saw his bare torso, almost entirely wrapped in filthy bandages. The bandages reeked of blood and decay—a putrid stench filled the air.

At that moment, Lin Shaojie entered, clutching several bottles of medicine, clearly at a loss.

“Mei, what are these medicines?”

The medical kit had come from Mo Chen, who’d handed it to her from his storage; she had assumed she wouldn’t need it, so she’d never checked the contents.

Mei took the bottles and examined them. The writing wasn’t in the country’s common language, but it was still one widely used in this world—children here began learning it from a young age. Was it possible Lin Shaojie couldn’t read it?

She eyed him curiously. “Big brother, you can’t read this?”

Lin Shaojie’s face flushed scarlet.

“Well, I’m just, you know, patriotic!” he explained with an awkward laugh.

“This one’s an antibiotic—Brother Ye can use it. This promotes wound healing. These two are useful as well,” Mei replied, selecting the necessary medicines without pressing the matter further.

“I’ll fetch some water!” Lin Shaojie, seeing the medicines chosen, hurried to get water for Ye Jingxuan.

“Wait, don’t rush to give him medicine. His bandages must be changed first, or the medicine won’t help,” Mei advised. Dirty bandages would only hinder the healing process—a universal truth in any world.

“Um, I don’t know how to do that. Do you?” Lin Shaojie stood there helplessly, gazing at Mei with pleading eyes.

Mei rolled her eyes in exasperation, staring him down until he blushed even deeper, then directed him to help prop Ye Jingxuan up.

During her early days as a fugitive, injuries had been commonplace, and she’d always tended her own wounds. She was quite skilled in basic first aid.

With practiced hands, she removed the filthy bandages, revealing that nearly half of Ye Jingxuan’s skin had been eroded away. Though the wounds had received minimal care, without proper medicine, healing was impossible. The lack of supplies, proper treatment, and the warm daytime temperatures meant the wounds were now visibly festering.

“Doesn’t the base have a hospital? How could they let his injuries rot like this?” Mei asked, her brows knitting in concern.

According to Lin Shaojie, without Ye Jingxuan’s desperate resistance against the mutant python, he and Qu Wenyuan would never have escaped. Was this how they repaid their savior?

“There is a hospital, but they only provide the most basic care. Anything beyond that—medicine, even a single bandage—costs contribution points. We traded all our supplies for points, but it was only enough to have Brother Ye’s wounds washed once. I joined the base’s squad, hoping to earn more, but there haven’t been any missions these past few days.” Lin Shaojie’s eyes reddened as he looked at Ye Jingxuan’s wounds, guilt and self-reproach mingling in his heart.

“Hold him steady,” Mei sighed, understanding his helplessness. She soaked a cotton ball in high-concentration alcohol and began cleaning the festering flesh.

With no skin to shield the raw meat, the injuries were grotesque and nauseating, pus oozing from the infected tissue. Yet Mei, long accustomed to such sights, felt no discomfort—only a quiet focus as she meticulously cleaned every inch.

Just then, the sound of a door opening signaled Qu Wenyuan’s return.

“Shaojie, you’re back? Mei, when did you arrive at the base?” She spotted the food on the table, then hurried toward Ye Jingxuan’s room, surprised to find Mei there.

“Where have you been?” Lin Shaojie’s tone was stiff, clearly resentful that she’d left their patient unattended.

Mei was too busy to join the conversation, simply greeting “Sister Yuan” before returning to her task.

“I went out to find work for contribution points. We can’t just rely on you alone, Shaojie. And if Brother Ye isn’t treated soon, he’ll be in real danger.” Qu Wenyuan’s explanation soothed Lin Shaojie’s anger.

“There’s food on the table. Go eat,” he told her, not pressing further—everyone knew that without special skills or connections, ordinary people struggled to find work these days.

“No rush. Let me help you, Mei,” Qu Wenyuan offered, embarrassed to eat while a guest was still busy.

She approached, but seeing Ye Jingxuan’s wounds, her face turned deathly pale. The heavy stench of blood and rot made her gag; she barely managed to contain herself.

Once Mei finished cleaning the upper body, she sprinkled healing powder over the wounds, then wrapped them in clean bandages.

She then pulled back the thin blanket covering Ye Jingxuan’s lower body.

The instant it was removed, Qu Wenyuan’s already pale face flushed bright red. She turned away, mortified, unable to look.

“The blanket is too dirty…”

“I’ll wash it!” Qu Wenyuan snatched up the blanket and fled, not waiting for Mei to finish her sentence.

Mei stared after her disappearing figure in bewilderment before turning back to Ye Jingxuan. Since the lower wounds were concentrated on his right hip and thigh, she had Lin Shaojie gently roll him onto his side and then cut away the bandages.

With the bandages removed, Ye Jingxuan was left completely exposed from the waist down.

Still feeling responsible for Ye Jingxuan’s condition, Lin Shaojie suddenly realized the awkwardness of having a young woman tend to a man’s naked lower body.

“Um, Mei, let me handle the rest. You should go take a break,” he stammered, hastily intervening.

Mei glanced at him, assuming he wanted to learn how to treat wounds, and handed over the cotton and alcohol before stepping out.

In the bathroom, Qu Wenyuan was scrubbing the blanket. With no soap or detergent, she could only rub at the fabric, trying to remove the stains.

Mei washed her hands, then casually asked, “Sister Yuan, did you find any work?”

“No. The jobs suitable for ordinary people all require connections. We’re new here—who would go out of their way to help us?” Her tone was lost and uncertain, a far cry from the confidence she’d shown in the temple.

“Don’t worry too much. The base will have to find a way for ordinary people to survive,” Mei offered comfort.

Qu Wenyuan managed a weak smile, then changed the subject. “When did you arrive at the base? Funny that you ran into Shaojie.”

“Ah Chen and I arrived yesterday. I met big brother during training—we’re in the same squad.”

“You’re also gifted?” Qu Wenyuan’s head shot up, startled.

“Of course! Didn’t I tell you I was amazing?” Mei replied with playful indignation, leaving Qu Wenyuan speechless.

Lowering her head to hide a flash of envy, Qu Wenyuan spoke again after a pause. “Then your friend Ah Chen must be gifted too?”

“How did you know?” Mei was certain she hadn’t mentioned it.

“He just seems very capable. And he takes good care of you.”

Who could blame her for doubting? Mei’s appearance was simply too deceptive—no one would ever guess her strength.

“By the way, you always call him Ah Chen. What’s his full name?” Qu Wenyuan finally voiced her curiosity.

Just then, Lin Shaojie, having cleaned Ye Jingxuan’s wounds but clueless about bandaging, called for Mei’s help, sweat pouring down his face.

Mei responded and was halfway to the door before remembering Qu Wenyuan’s question. “His name is Mo Chen,” she replied before leaving.

She didn’t notice Qu Wenyuan’s shocked and regretful expression upon hearing the name, nor her incessant muttering—“So it’s him! It’s really him!”