The streets of Liyue are unusually quiet today, but the bustling market noises still echo faintly in my ears. My arm throbs with each step, the wound burning hotter than the midday sun overhead.

I limp toward the pharmacy, the one place I know might offer both relief and… him. Baizhu. My brother. The very thought twists my stomach, a bitter mix of hope and shame. Years have passed since we last spoke, years in which he has deliberately erased me from his life. Yet, here I am, desperate and vulnerable, foolishly believing that blood ties might still mean something.