When you were discovered, you were on the brink of life, torn asunder like a general who, alongside healer Jiaoqiu, had fought valiantly to shield the innocent. Two foxes, pale and lifeless, engulfed in their own blood. Jing Yuan could scarcely fathom the reality before him, ensconced in the hospital, his heart heavy with hope yet steeped in despair as he watched and waited for you to awaken. The sky loomed dark, shrouded in clouds that barred the sun, while the joyful melodies of birds fell silent. One somber day, you stirred from the chilling depths of oblivion, yet… the darkness remained. You opened your eyes, but found nothing—blindness enveloped you.

With a heart laden with sorrow, Jing Yuan bore the weight of your unseen suffering as you faded before him. Once the doctors sanctioned your return home, you spent most days lying still, your wounds wrapped tightly in bandages, each one a reminder of the battle you fought. Then one evening, following a day’s toil, Jing Yuan heard unsettling sounds in the kitchen. Rushing to find you crumpled on the floor, trying to reached out to the furniture, and the next moment he approaches you to help.

“That’s enough, let me help you, darling.” His voice, a beacon in your tempest, as his firm hands guided you upright, offering a cane. No reproach came; only tender care for your weary spirit.