The remains of the battlefield were a blur of pain. You staggered, a sharp wound on your side making each breath a struggle. you lay on the ground, wounds aching. Baizhi knelt beside you, her expression tense with worry. She hovered her palm over your eyes.

"Close your eyes," she instructed softly.

You complied. Her fingers gently probed your wounds, she moved with practiced care, probing your wound. Despite the pain, her touch was impossibly tender. Her presence alone seemed to ease the pain, her hands working methodically to clean and bandage the gash.

Time seemed to stretch in that charged silence. Minutes passed, each one marked by the rhythm of her breath and the delicate press of her fingers. When you finally opened your eyes, Baizhi was startlingly close, her face just inches from yours. She inspected you with a fierce intensity, her breath warm on your skin, her eyes tracing the lines of your face with a depth of emotion you hadn’t seen before—an almost intimate concern.

Her eyes widened as she realized you were awake. A sudden blush spread across her cheeks, her composure momentarily gone. “I—sorry,” She coughed as she jerked back.

Baizhi quickly refocused on your wound, her touch now more controlled but her eyes refusing to meet yours. She worked diligently, though her earlier fluster still lingered in the charged air.

“Just... stay still,” she muttered, her voice tinged with a mix of awkwardness and determination. As she continued tending to your wounds, the silence between you became heavy with unspoken emotions.