When he found her in the dim light of her bedroom, she was a bundle curled up in the center of her bed with only her face exposed. Her eyes were open, staring blankly at the wall even as she heard Xin Tuyong approach.
"Huan Mao." Her eyes flickered to his for only a moment before returning to the wall.
He knelt down in front of her and she pulled the covers over her face with a sigh.
"Huan Mao," he repeated. "Please save Fan Qentian."
He waited for a moment, but there was neither movement nor a response. It was hopeless. He stood and exited the room without looking back.
After he left, she slinked out of the room almost right behind him. She held a small silver case as she flashed ahead of him.
His eyes widened in shock and relief when he saw her running to Fan Qentian. With one hand, she felt his pulse at his neck, and with the other, she pressed a small oblong device into his abdominal wound and its small screen lit up with a beep.
She removed Fan Qentian's blanket and all of his clothes except for his undergarments. The clothes were tossed aside as she folded the bloody blanket into a makeshift pillow and put it under his legs before bandaging his leg wound.
Huan Mao took a wipe and swiped it along Fan Qentian's inner elbow with practiced efficiency. She selected a small vial of clear liquid and connected it to a long, thin needle before feeling along his arm and inserting it.
Then she changed the bandages on his stomach, pressing a small sheet of some kind of thin paper over the entry wound and another over the exit wound before wrapping it freshly.
Last of all, she pulled out a metal sheet blanket and laid it across the body before spraying a cloth with a strong-smelling liquid and wiping the blood from his body.
The whole process took no more than 10 minutes, and with her expertise, Fan Qentian seemed to have hope. His shallow breaths were more even, but his complexion was still deathly pale in contrast to the dark blood caked on his skin.
The liquid in the vial was almost completely drained into Fan Qentian, and Huan Mao checked it then ran back up the stairs, returning this time with a larger vial of what looked like a thick black liquid.
She removed the needle, wiped it quickly with a fresh wipe from a package, and changed the vial. She reinserted the needle and checked the wounds.
The stomach wound barely soaked through the bandage, while the leg wound had even less blood. The bleeding was slowing.
She put her ear to his chest and nodded with satisfaction to herself.
The large vial was emptying once more, and Xin Tuyong could see that the liquid wasn't black, but red.
His feelings were mixed as Huan Mao closed up her case after seeming to revive the dead. Huan Mao was an enigma, and it was only that day that he realized he knew nothing.
It was as though every time he thought he had a clue about his situation, something new always proved him wrong.
The godly Huan Mao could kill and revive like a mythical being. If he were told that she was omniscient, he couldn't possibly refute it. His life was truly in her hands, but he didn't know what to do or who he could trust.
On one hand, if she wanted to kill him, she could have easily done it before, which meant that he could trust her. But on the other hand, she just tried to kill his best friend and was possibly the reason for his difficulties, which meant that she could have other motives.
For now, it was in his best interest to not anger her. But it would be ideal for him to leave everything and live a normal life.
In the blink of an eye, Huan Mao disappeared again and once more Xin Tuyong was alone. The needle was gone from Fan Qentian's body, and he was still covered in the metal sheet.
Xin Tuyong felt his friend's cheek and was relieved to feel that it was warm.