Yinyue's forehead creased at the sound of Chiyin's voice. She felt the start of an approaching migraine.
"Speak of the demon and the demon appears," she muttered under her breath.
"I heard that."
Yinyue rolled her eyes. She didn't want to play a stupid game with him. Her hand brushed away the tap on her shoulder.
"All serious and no fun," Chiyin grumbled as he hopped up in front of her, his lips breaking into a mischievous grin.
His flaming red gown made her eyes sore. "You're my uncle."
Her sarcastic tone dampened his playful mood. His niece never smiled much, ever since their separation after his sister's death. He missed the giggling five-year-old version of her.
Time flew by too fast. A grouchy teenager stood before him, weathering more responsibilities than she should.
Hushiyi blamed her changed personality on the Shadow Pavilion's training. Chiyin didn't think so. Something in her eyes seemed too distant, almost like she experienced an entire lifetime of pain. He had seen the same look in the elderly patients when they spoke of loss, watching their families die one by one.
"You bodyguard there…SHOO!" Chiyin waved his hands at 02 like he owned the place.
02 pretended not to see him. Yinyue's hands balled into fists, fighting the temptation to lash out at Chiyin. She forced on a polite smile, while gnashing her teeth and gestured to 02, to depart.
Yinyue's gaze narrowed at 02's hasty retreat. It was clear he wanted to put as much distance between himself and Chiyin as possible.
She glanced around, looking for Hushiyi. Usually, her brother would be the one rushing out to see her. If Hushiyi was here, she could use him as a shield against Chiyin's sticky presence.
"I drugged him to sleep," Chiyin announced with a growing grin on his face.
His eyes twinkled with a blatant lack of remorse. Not even a hint of regret. He straightened himself up with his chest swelling in the brazen pride of his handiwork, relishing her blank expression.
Yinyue arched her eyebrow at his audacity. If Chiyin wasn't family, Hushiyi would apply the penalties to him for drugging an Imperial Prince — either a good whipping, or even death.
"You realise that it's criminal to drug a prince, right?"
"He hasn't been sleeping since they said your men met with an ambush. As a physician, I can," he added with such confidence, tempting her to throw a bucket of cold water over his head.
"He'll love you for that." Yinyue clapped her hands. Her applause was not for Chiyin's skill as a physician, but for his sheer lack of shamelessness at using the position to justify a prank.
Wait til Hushiyi wakes up, she thought. That would be fun.
"Really?"
She took a moment to stare at him and shook her head. "No."
"What?"
"Never mind, but I need your help." Yinyue came straight to the point. Less said was better, especially with Chiyin. No point in engaging him in an endless and useless chatter. And his incessant talking killed her hearing one too many times.
"Oh?" His eyes widened in feigned astonishment, while his grin grew from one ear to another. She had never asked him for help until today.
Has the sun started rising from the west, he wondered.
Not that it mattered. Chiyin felt a fuzzy feeling of warmth, and it wasn't from the sun. Their relationship was a little odd because he was almost their age, albeit a little older. By a few years. Not that much.
Both siblings treated him with cautious respect, akin to that given to the eldest brother and an elder of the Qisha syndicate. Never with the respect of the respected and wise uncle.
He always wondered how it felt to be an uncle.
He puffed his chest with pride and confidence, in an eager wait for the details.
"Can you look at 01?"
His grin faded with the disappointment planting a frown on his face.
Her blunt call for help came because of her troublesome bodyguard. Chiyin wasn't sure how to react. Should he laugh or cry?
Laugh at being treated like a subordinate, or cry because 01, an outsider, was Yinyue's priority.
Chiyin never liked 01 when they first met. And he doubts he ever will. Something about 01's eyes and demeanor made him uncomfortable. Chiyin knew how to read people, and 01 came across as a conniving schemer.
Chiyin brushed away his ego and thought back to the unusual smell coming from the blood pool in the forest. 01 would have bled out and dead. He scratched his head and blurted out, "is he even alive?"
"Why would you think him dead?"
"Well…at the ambush site…the blood left behind was…a lot," he replied with hesitation.
Chiyin had inspected the site of the attack before he came. Yinyue suspected he was holding back on information from his answer. Her uncle appeared certain that 01 was dead.
"He's alive, just unconscious."
"Ahh…good for him…," he trailed off.
Yinyue patted him on his shoulder. "The Simurg did something to him. I'm pretty sure you would be interested."
Chiyin perked up, his interest piqued. "Did what?"
"They mentioned he needed an antidote, but he shows no signs of poisoning. And his wounds have odd burn marks too…"
"Antidotes are not always for poisoning. Not in Xirong's language. It could mean medicine, but I have to assess him myself." Chiyin mused. He knew Yinyue's skill at identifying the first signs of poisoning.
If she couldn't detect the symptoms through the pulse, then it was a very rare poison or medication. Or at worse, her incompetence. If the latter, he would need to retrain her.
The blood trail and pool with the odd scent at the scene of the ambush made him think of bloodletting. And there were two rare plants which gave off that scent. Their sap could make a person bleed non-stop if laced on a weapon, but the concentration must be high enough. Or mixed with the saliva of a leech.
"As for burnt marks along the wounds? At the edges where they sewed?"
"Any reason?"
"Seal off the bleeding, but it isn't so easy to perform," he replied. "Burn too much and the wound festers. Or even rot. Burn too little and he bleeds to death. But I have to see to confirm."
The Xirong often used never seen before techniques for treating injuries and even some illnesses. Some useful, some not, and some untranslatable. That much Chiyin knew. He read about wound burning in some records but had never seen the process or result with his eyes.
Their healers also used strange plants from afar in their medicinal and poison formulations. The Xirong called their physicians 'healers', a primitive sounding term, but their healers were far from being primitive.
If the language barrier disappeared, Chiyin didn't mind learning from them. The scrolls recording their medical knowledge took too long to translate. Still, their knowledge was equal to, or even better than, any practicing physician in the Central Plains.
"I also need you to look at this." Yinyue shoved a folded sachet in his hands.