Ryou looked at Keqing.
She did not say anything, but the worry on her face was obvious. Dunyarzad had looked awful earlier, and Keqing had not been able to let it go.
Ryou nodded. "I'll try."
"Mm." Keqing brightened a little.
They went to the guest room and knocked. Dehya opened the door a moment later, alert at first, then surprised when she saw them.
"Ryou? Keqing? What's wrong?"
"Keqing was worried about Dunyarzad," Ryou said. "I know some medicine, so I came to take a look."
Dehya hesitated.
It was not that she did not want help. She did. But anyone who had guarded Dunyarzad for this long knew how cruel hope could be when it came too easily.
"That's kind of you," Dehya said, lowering her voice, "but her illness isn't that simple. I don't want to trouble you, and she definitely won't either."
"I already said I'd try," Ryou said.
Keqing stepped closer. "Please. I saw her face earlier. I'm worried."
Inside, Dunyarzad called, "Dehya? Who is it?"
Dehya closed her eyes for a second, then moved aside.
"…All right. Come in."
Ryou entered with Keqing behind him.
Dunyarzad was sitting on the bed in her sleepwear. She was tall, but painfully thin, the kind of fragile that made even sitting upright look tiring. Still, when she saw them, she smiled.
"Ryou, Keqing… sorry. I made you worry. I'm feeling much better now."
Keqing did not believe that for a second. "Dunyarzad…"
Ryou walked to the bedside. "Can I check your pulse?"
Dunyarzad looked surprised. "You want to examine me?"
Her first instinct was to refuse. Ryou was young, and her father had already hired so many physicians over the years. None of them had helped. She did not want to drag more people into the same useless disappointment.
But Keqing had clearly brought him here out of concern, and Ryou had come.
Dunyarzad's smile softened.
"All right. Thank you."
Ryou sat beside the bed and took her pulse.
His medical skill could rise unusually high when treating women, but Eleazar was far beyond ordinary medicine. After a while, he let go.
"I can't cure it," he said.
Dunyarzad did not look surprised.
"Thank you," she said softly. "My father brought many doctors to see me. They all said something like that. I've heard it so many times that I'm used to it now."
She seemed more concerned about making him feel guilty than about herself.
"I'm not blaming you. Really. I don't think about being cured much anymore. I just want to see more of the world while I still can. I'm already happy I came to Liyue Harbor. I met all of you, and I got to see Qingce Village looking like a paradise."
Her eyes curved with a gentle smile.
"These few days are enough for me to remember for the rest of my life. So don't feel bad, Ryou. I'm grateful."
The room went quiet.
Dunyarzad had been born into a powerful family, but she had none of the arrogance Ryou expected from people like that. She was gentle, thoughtful, and almost too used to making her own pain easier for everyone else to bear.
That made it harder to do nothing.
Medicine could not save her. Even if he sent his Hand out to study, it would not improve fast enough. Eleazar was not something level-four medical skill could touch.
But medicine was not the only thing he had.
Ryou looked at her for a moment, then took out Bloody Mary.
"I can't help much as a doctor," he said, holding the bottle out. "But this might work. Drink it."
Dehya's expression changed at once. "Wait—"
Dunyarzad had already taken the bottle.
She looked at Ryou, then smiled.
"I trust you."
"Dunyarzad…"
"He has no reason to hurt us," Dunyarzad said. "And even if he wanted something, what do we have that would be worth all this?"
Then she drank.
For a moment, nothing happened.
Then Dunyarzad froze.
Her breathing changed first. The shallow strain in her chest eased, little by little, until she could take a clean breath without forcing it. The heavy weakness clinging to her body faded enough for her to notice its absence.
She stared down at her hands.
"Am I dreaming?"
Her voice shook.
"I feel… better."
Then she pushed up her sleeve.
The scale-like marks on her arm were still there, but some had faded. Not gone. Not cured. But faded.
Keqing sucked in a breath. "Dunyarzad…"
Dehya rushed over and took Dunyarzad's arm, staring at the fading marks like she was afraid they might come back if she blinked.
"They're disappearing," Dehya whispered. "Some of them are really disappearing."
Dunyarzad looked at her own arm, and tears spilled down her cheeks.
For years, people had given her careful words and helpless sympathy. This was the first time hope had shown itself on her skin.
"I really do feel better," she whispered.
Her emotions surged, but the old suffocating pain did not follow. She did not collapse. She only sat there crying, overwhelmed and alive in a way she had not expected to feel again.
Dehya looked at Ryou, voice rough with emotion.
"You helped her."
Dunyarzad tried to get off the bed.
Ryou caught her before she could kneel.
"Don't. You're still weak."
"Ryou, I…"
"It worked," he said, firm enough to stop her. "But listen carefully. This only suppresses the illness for now. It isn't a cure."
Dunyarzad went still.
"And that bottle is rare," Ryou continued. "Extremely rare. Even I can't give you much of it."
Dehya's excitement dimmed, but only a little. Even that much was already a miracle.
Ryou looked at Dunyarzad. "If you trust me, stay with me for now. I'll look for another way to treat you. I already have a few ideas."
Dunyarzad grabbed his sleeve.
"I trust you," she said at once. "I'll stay."
Ryou patted her hand. "Good. Then rest. No more excitement tonight."
He stayed until Dunyarzad finally calmed down, then left with Keqing.
The door to their room had barely closed when Keqing threw herself into his arms.
Ryou caught her with a laugh. "That sudden?"
Keqing hugged him tightly.
"You're amazing."
"I only suppressed it."
"That's already incredible." Her voice softened. "Eleazar is supposed to be incurable, but you helped her. You really helped her."
She was quiet for a moment.
"Thank you."
Ryou brushed his fingers through her hair. "Keqing, when did we start needing thanks between us?"
Keqing did not answer, but she held him a little tighter.
Ryou lowered his voice and smiled. "But if you really want to thank me…"
Keqing immediately stiffened.
"Ryou."
"I haven't said anything."
"You don't need to. Your face already said it."
He laughed.
Keqing's ears warmed. After a long pause, she muttered, barely louder than a breath, "Just this once."
Ryou's smile widened.
Soon after, the lamp went out.
…
Morning came.
Xingqiu and Chongyun showed up while most of the house was still quiet.
"Ryou!"
"Ryou!"
Ryou looked up from breakfast. "You two are up early. Eat something."
Xingqiu sat down, took one bite of breakfast, then flipped open the manuscript.
That was the last bite he managed.
He sank into the story almost immediately, one hand still holding his food while the other turned the pages faster and faster.
Chongyun waited beside him for a while before reminding him, "Xingqiu. Food."
"Oh. Right."
Xingqiu blinked and finally remembered the fried dough stick existed.
Then he looked at Ryou, eyes bright.
"Ryou, did Chang the Ninth write this?"
Ryou only smiled.
Xingqiu took that as an answer and tapped the manuscript.
"The opening is excellent. I got pulled in immediately. The pacing, the character, the hook at the end—everything works. I want the next part now."
Ryou smiled without explaining.
He had to admit, the effect from his Eyes was impressive. It had not just polished the manuscript. It had rebuilt the whole thing, and with enough mental strength poured in, the writing could even gain a strange pull of its own.
After breakfast, Ryou sent Xingqiu and Chongyun out.
As for Keqing, Tabibito, Dunyarzad, and the others, none of them were getting up early. They had come back late, and after being kept awake for half the night, anyone who could still crawl out of bed at dawn would be the real ghost.
…
Xingqiu brought Guhua's Eldest Disciple to Chang the Ninth's house with Chongyun.
He knocked.
The door was not shut properly and opened with a light push.
Inside, Chang the Ninth sat stiffly in a chair, eyes bloodshot, staring straight at the entrance.
Xingqiu froze.
"Ch-Chongyun."
He edged closer to Chongyun.
"Check him. Is he possessed?"
Chongyun looked once. "No."
"Check again."
"He's not possessed."
Chang the Ninth stared at the manuscript in Xingqiu's hand.
"You brought it back?"
"Yes." Xingqiu placed it in front of him. Then he could not help asking, "Also… do you have the next part?"
Chang the Ninth did not answer.
He picked up the manuscript and read it from beginning to end. By the time he finished, his face had gone bitter.
"This is too good."
Xingqiu immediately leaned in.
Chang the Ninth gripped the pages.
"Now I understand the gap between me and a real writer."
He dragged in a breath.
"Ryou is incredible."
Then he shot to his feet.
"No. That's not enough. I need him to teach me."
Before either of them could react, Chang the Ninth rushed out the door.
Xingqiu stood there for a second.
"Chongyun."
"Mm?"
"Did he just say Ryou wrote this?"
"He did."
"No wonder Ryou only smiled earlier." Xingqiu looked toward the doorway. "I thought Chang the Ninth had suddenly become that good."
Chongyun said nothing, which was answer enough.
Xingqiu sighed.
"Ryou really is ridiculous. I already admired him for business. Four days, thirteen million Mora in pure profit. Could you do that?"
Chongyun thought about it. "If he hadn't given Mondstadt a cut, it would have been over fifteen million. Maybe more."
"That was not comforting."
"You asked."
"I know. That was my mistake."
Xingqiu looked down at the manuscript and smiled bitterly.
"I thought he was still ordinary in some ways. Maybe I couldn't beat him at business, but writing? I thought I had a chance there."
He glanced outside again.
"But now he's good at this too."
"Looks like I still have a lot to learn from him."
Then his eyes widened.
"Wait. Chang the Ninth."
Chongyun followed his gaze.
Chang the Ninth had run out looking like a man who had not slept all night and had just suffered a writer's breakdown.
Xingqiu grabbed the manuscript and hurried after him.
"Come on. If he collapses halfway there, we're going to feel awful."
[End of chapter]
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