Chapter 4 Healing

Ye Zhengliu uncovered the boy’s clothes to roughly assess the extent of his injuries.

The "Wolf" was severely wounded. Deep, horizontal slashes marred his arms, thighs, and chest. The wound across his chest was the most critical, with the flesh on both sides rolled back in a bloody mess, faintly revealing the stark white bone beneath.

He was running a fever; his forehead was scorching to the touch, yet his hands and feet were ice-cold—a clear sign of excessive blood loss.

Confined in a damp, filthy cell without proper treatment, the gaping chest wound had not only begun to emit a foul odor but was also festering with pus. The infection had set in, and with the wound spanning both lungs, if it were to trigger septicemia, this boy likely wouldn't survive the week.

Ye Zhengliu pondered for a moment before pulling a small oil-paper packet from her robes. It contained a small pile of snow-white powder—not medicine, but refined salt.

She did possess high-quality medicinal powder, which she had divided into several packets and hidden about her person before her escape, keeping them separate from her gold and silver. When Ying Luanxing had pinned her down during her attempted flight, he had used his scabbard to hook the bundle from her bodice, but he hadn't had anyone perform a full body search on her.

Medicinal powder was worth its weight in gold in a place like this, and Ye Zhengliu was not generous enough to waste it on a stranger. However, cutting away his necrotic tissue, rinsing the wounds with disinfectant salt water, and bandaging them with clean cloth were tasks she was well-equipped to handle. She had become proficient in this routine while caring for Ying Luanxing.

There was a water bucket and a ceramic bowl in the room. Ye Zhengliu checked them and found the water quality acceptable. The reason she had hesitated to treat him was a different concern: exactly how strong was the "Wolf's" immune system?

She had witnessed the tenacity and regenerative abilities of the locals through Ying Luanxing. When she first found him, he was so covered in blood that she thought he was a dead man. Later, after treating him herself, she expected him to be crippled for a year or more. Yet, within two months, he was as active as ever. The old saying about "broken bones taking a hundred days to heal" was complete nonsense when it came to him. Two months later, as Ye Zhengliu fled through the dense forest paths, Ying Luanxing had chased her down, effortlessly brushing aside branches and leaves. His movements were like a swimming dragon; he had darted through the cloud of lime powder she threw, striking her down from above with his scabbard in one fluid, concise, and effortless motion, as if it were a mere game.

If this boy’s recovery rate was as monstrous as Ying Luanxing’s, Ye Zhengliu estimated that although she wouldn't have to share a room with a group of men anymore, she probably wouldn't survive more than a month and a half once he recovered.

So... there was, in fact, a more pragmatic solution, though Ye Zhengliu hesitated to use it.

There was a sword in the cell, and the "Wolf" was currently unconscious, leaving him at her mercy. Ye Zhengliu could easily take this opportunity to slice the tendons in his wrists and ankles. Just four cuts would be enough to strip him of his ability to act. The wounds wouldn't be fatal, but they would be sufficient to neutralize any threat he posed to her. If the jailers heard that the boy was crippled, they would likely drag him away to be used as fertilizer, so even for the sake of his own survival, he would likely feign a slow recovery and keep his true state hidden.

Moreover, to prevent him from trying to take her down with him, she wouldn't have to sever the tendons completely; she could leave a tiny sliver of muscle connected. Human tendons in the wrists and ankles were thick and tough; without putting in lethal force, a simple, quick slice would be difficult to sever completely, making it an easy procedure to carry out. Severing the majority of the tendons would allow him to force movement through the pain, but the fear of snapping them entirely would discourage him from engaging in any unhealthy, strenuous activity—like murdering his roommate.

By the time his tendons healed, at least two or three months would have passed. Two months was enough for Ye Zhengliu to adapt to this transmigration, enough to save an Ying Luanxing, and certainly enough to understand the situation here and seize the initiative from her "roommate." It wasn't a perfect solution, but it was self-serving with minimal long-term repercussions.

However...

As she mused, the "Wolf's" weapon was already in her hand. The rapier was crafted from refined steel; the blade was incredibly narrow and flexible, with edges sharpened to a brilliant, lethal sheen. It was a rare, fine weapon. It was efficient at killing, and it would surely be just as effective at slicing through flesh.

So... why hadn't she acted yet?

Ye Zhengliu gave a wry smile, her gaze drifting over the boy’s face, resting on the sharp bridge of his nose. The unconscious boy on the ground had a sharp bone structure; even in sleep, with eyes tightly shut and lips pressed thin, his features still exuded an undeniable sense of danger.

Yet, upon closer inspection, one could see the boy’s features were still youthful, with faint traces of baby fat on his cheeks. He couldn't be more than fifteen—perhaps only fourteen. He was just a boy.

In such a chaotic world where life was as fleeting as duckweed, age meant very little. Ye Zhengliu had seen a twelve-year-old "beggar gang leader" break a six-year-old’