Chapter 5: The Impoverished Maid and the Warlord of Turbulent Times

From that day on, Song Qian rose early every morning to check on the man’s condition. She would tiptoe into the room and, finding him still in a deep slumber, carefully pick up the prepared herbal poultice to change his dressings.

His wounds were gradually knitting together. Each time she tended to him, Song Qian’s expression was one of focused devotion; despite the soot smeared across her face, the concern in her eyes remained unmistakable.

Once the dressings were changed, she would slip quietly out of the room and head to the kitchen in search of sustenance. Within the mansion of the Grand Marshal, she had to avoid prying eyes, sneaking away with scraps of steamed buns or bowls of thin porridge.

On lucky days, she might find some light side dishes. Returning to the room, she would gently wake the man: "Eat a little something. You need your strength to recover."

Lu Tingfeng watched her busy silhouette, his heart heavy with both gratitude and guilt. He knew all too well the precariousness of her position in this house, yet she still dedicated herself to his care with such unwavering devotion.

As night fell, the damp room grew chill. Watching Song Qian settle onto the floor to sleep, Lu Tingfeng could not help but urge her, "Miss, please, come up to the bed. The floor is too cold; you will fall ill." Song Qian merely shook her head. "I am fine. Your wounds are still grave; you need the rest."

In the silence of the night, the damp air was thick with the faint scent of herbs. Lu Tingfeng tossed and turned, unable to sleep. Finally, he could not resist asking in a soft voice, "Miss, I still do not know your name." Song Qian paused, a moment of silence passing before she replied, "My name is Song Qian."

Lu Tingfeng repeated the name softly. "Song Qian. A beautiful name, just like you." Song Qian lowered her head in shyness; even through the layer of soot on her cheeks, a faint flush was visible. Lu Tingfeng continued, "I am Tingfeng. Once I am healed, I swear I will not let you suffer any longer in this Grand Marshal’s mansion."

Song Qian was drifting in and out of conversation with Tingfeng, her eyelids growing heavy with fatigue. Just as she was on the verge of falling into a deep sleep, the cold, mechanical voice of the System rang out in her mind without warning. She was jolted into wakefulness, her heart hammering against her ribs, barely suppressing a gasp.

"Host, I must say, you are quite the actress. This melodrama is so convincing, you almost had me fooled," the System remarked with a hint of mockery.

Startled and furious, Song Qian cursed silently, "You wretched System, why must you pop up like that? You nearly scared me to death! Do not appear without my permission ever again!" The System merely hummed, unfazed. "I am simply here to remind you of your mission progress. Don't go forgetting your purpose."

Too angry to respond further, Song Qian forced herself to calm her racing pulse. She glanced at Tingfeng and, seeing he had noticed nothing amiss, let out a sigh of relief. However, the shock had chased away all traces of sleep, leaving her to continue their idle chatter while nursing a silent resentment toward the System’s reckless intrusion.

As the first light of dawn filtered through the window lattice, Song Qian stirred, and a new day began. In the days that followed, she continued to tend to Tingfeng with meticulous care, bustling about for his food and medicines.

Then, one day, while Song Qian was scavenging for food in the kitchen as usual, she was caught by several head maids. With sharp eyes, they immediately spotted her actions and ran to report her to the head matron. The matron, upon hearing the news, was incensed. She ordered her servants to drag Song Qian into the courtyard. "You little wretch, how dare you steal from this house!" The matron roared, brandishing a wooden rod and striking Song Qian heavily. Unable to fight back, Song Qian could only grit her teeth and endure the agony.