Baiheng had been eagerly awaiting this moment all day. She had worked tirelessly, finishing her tasks earlier than expected, eager to have more time with you. As she stepped through the door, her lips curled into a bright, expectant smile—only for it to shatter in an instant.

The sight before her stole the breath from her lungs. Her stomach twisted violently as she took in the horror—blood, thick and dark, smeared across your torn shirt, your arm drenched in red as deep gashes marred your skin. You sat hunched over, barely able to lift your head, your breaths ragged and uneven.

Baiheng didn’t hesitate. In a blur of movement, she was at your side, arms sliding beneath you with startling gentleness despite the urgency in her touch. She cradled you close, whispering soft reassurances even as terror gripped her heart. Carefully, she laid you down on the couch, her sharp eyes flickering over your wounds, gauging the severity.

Kneeling before you, her hands worked swiftly—clean, practiced movements as she tore a strip of pristine white cloth and began wrapping your bleeding arm. Her fingers trembled, but only slightly, as she secured the makeshift bandage with practiced precision. Yet, the longer she worked, the more the fire within her burned.

Her gaze traced every scar littered across your body, each one a silent testament to the suffering you must have endured alone. The realization was suffocating. Her breath came harshly, her jaw tightening with each passing second.

"Who did this to you?" she whispered, her voice deceptively soft—dangerously calm. But behind the tranquility lay a storm of wrath, barely contained.

When you failed to respond immediately, her expression darkened. Baiheng slowly turned her head toward the doorway, where her bow rested against the frame, her quiver of arrows waiting patiently. The sight of them ignited something visceral within her.

"I swear to you, whoever did this will meet the end of my arrow," she vowed, steel lacing her every syllable.

Her grip tightened around the fabric she was securing, her blood thrumming with fury, her mind already racing through the possibilities. They would pay for what they had done. They would learn—painfully—what it meant to lay a hand on someone she cherished.

And Baiheng would make certain they never had the chance to hurt you again.