"Are you hurt?"
Tieu Lan froze.
She clearly had not expected him to ask about her first.
"I… I'm fine. Just a few scratches."
"Tell me the truth."
Tieu Lann lowered her head.
"It only hurts a little. Nothing serious."
Hao Nhien watched her for a moment. He still had the feeling she was hiding something—perhaps an injury, perhaps simply fear that had not yet faded after the events of last night. But if she did not want to speak, he would not force her.
"Thank you."
Tieu Lan looked up in confusion.
"Young Master?"
"Thank you for saving me."
Her face reddened immediately. She shook her head again and again.
"That's what I should do. If Uncle and Aunt were here, they would tell me the same thing—to take care of you."
Those words again—Uncle and Aunt.
Hao Nhien looked toward the small town by the river.
"Any news of my parents?"
The joy on Tieu Lan's face dimmed slightly.
"Not yet. I asked a few people in town. No one saw a carriage coming from the east, and no one heard about fighting on the mountain road. Maybe… maybe Uncle and Aunt took another route. Or they're looking for us."
Her voice grew softer at the end.
Clearly, she was not certain either.
Hao Nhien did not ask further.
The memories of last night were too fragmented. He still did not know who had been chasing them, whether Quan Hao Nhien's parents were alive, or why the Quan family had been forced to flee East City in the first place.
Right now, both he and Tieu Lan were injured and had no one to rely on.
Running blindly would only make it easier to stumble into danger.
First, they had to survive.
"For now, we shouldn't leave this place."
Tieu Lan looked up.
"Stay on the boat?"
"Mm. At least for the moment, this boat is safer than being outside. I need time to recover, and I also need to remember more."
He asked about the money, food, and medicine they had left.
Tieu Lan still had a small pouch of gold coins that Aunt had given her before they left Dong Thanh. Their food would last two days, perhaps three if they rationed it. Medicine was almost gone, though she could still gather or buy herbs around the town.
Hao Nhien thought for a moment.
"Don't go far today. This afternoon, buy more rice, salt, clean cloth, and ask about physicians and medicinal herbs for external wounds. If any stranger asks too many questions about us, come back immediately."
Tieu Lan stared at him for a long moment.
Then she asked quietly,
"Young Master… are you really all right?"
Hao Nhien paused.
"Why do you ask?"
"I don't know."
She lowered her head, fingers twisting the edge of her clothes.
"You're still Young Master. But after waking up… you seem a little different."
Hao Nhien fell silent.
The cabin behind him.
The river before him.
The emptiness where he could no longer sense Anh Nhien.
The foreign memories inside his mind.
Tieu Lan standing in front of him.
All of it seemed to be waiting for an answer.
But he could not tell her the truth.
Because even he did not yet know the whole truth.
Hao Nhien raised a hand and lightly touched the wound on his forehead.
"Maybe the fall woke something in me."
Tieu Lan looked at him as though trying to decide whether he was telling the truth.
In the end, she only nodded.
"Maybe that's a good thing. As long as Young Master is alive, that's enough."
A very simple sentence.
Yet Hao Nhien felt heavier after hearing it.
To Tieu Lan, as long as her Young Master was alive, that was enough.
But what did "alive" actually mean now?
Even he could not answer that.
The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.
Hao Nhien turned toward the river.
The Qingyun River continued to flow.
Neither fast nor slow.
It did not know that Earth had been locked inside a reversed flow of time.
It did not know that Anh Nhien had been taken away.
It did not know that a young man named Quan Hao Nhien had fallen by a riverbank in this world.
Nor did it know that another Quan Hao Nhien had awakened inside that body.
The river simply flowed.
As though the world had never stopped for anyone's pain.
Hao Nhien stood beside the rail for a long time.
Tieu Lan remained quietly beside him.
Perhaps she thought he was worried about his parents.
After a while, she spoke softly.
"Young Master, you should change your clothes first. These are covered in blood. It isn't good to keep wearing them. I'll prepare some warm water."
Hao Nhien looked down at his torn clothes.
If he had still been the old Quan Hao Nhien, Tieu Lan was probably used to helping him with things like this.
But he was not that person.
At least, not entirely.
"I can do it myself."
Tieu Lan blinked.
"But you're still hurt…"
"It's fine."
His voice softened.
"Just bring me clean clothes and cloth for the wounds."
She pressed her lips together, clearly still uneasy, but finally nodded.
"Then be careful. If it hurts too much, call me."
"Mm."
She walked a few steps, then turned back.
"You really have to call."
Hao Nhien looked at her.
"I know."
Only then did Tieu Lan finally leave.
Hao Nhien carried the clean clothes back into the cabin.
The wooden door closed behind him.
He changed slowly.
Every time the cloth brushed over a wound, pain flared through his skin. Some places where dried blood had stuck to the torn fabric had to be soaked before he could peel it away.
Even something as simple as changing clothes was enough to make this body sweat.
Hao Nhien did not hurry.
This was Quan Hao Nhien's body.
From today onward, it was also the body he had to rely on.
If it was weak, he would train it.
If it hurt, he would endure it.
If it felt unfamiliar, he would get used to it.
There was no other choice.
When he tied the belt, his hand paused for a moment.
His consciousness had never worn clothes like these before.
But the body knew how.
All he had to do was relax slightly, and his fingers naturally performed the movements in the correct order.
The sensation was strange.
As though another person had left habits behind in every joint, every motion.
Once he was finished, he opened the door.
Tieu Lan immediately turned around.
She stood a few steps away, holding a basin of warm water.
Her eyes moved from his face to his shoulders, arms, waist, then stopped at the wound on his forehead.
"Young Master, you really changed by yourself."
There was happiness in her voice.
But also the faintest trace of loss.
Hao Nhien noticed.
"It isn't that I don't trust you."
Tieu Lan looked up.
"I just want to do what I still can by myself."
She was silent for a moment.
Then nodded.
"Young Master really did wake up different."
Hao Nhien did not know how to answer that.
In the end, he only said,
"Maybe."
Tieu Lan quickly recovered her usual energy.
She set down the basin, opened the packet of hemostatic herbs, and took out several leaves that had already been roughly crushed.
"Then let me put medicine on your wounds. You can't reach all of them yourself, especially the ones on your back."
This time, Hao Nhien did not refuse.
He sat on a small wooden stool beside the door.
Tieu Lan stood behind him, her movements quick and practiced. She lifted the cloth around his shoulder, cleaned the wounds, then applied the herbs.
The moment the medicine touched his skin, a cool sensation spread outward.
The burning pain eased noticeably.
Hao Nhien was slightly surprised.
"This works that well?"
"It's only ordinary medicine for stopping bleeding."
Tieu Lan wrapped the wound as she spoke.
"Back in East City, Uncle often used it for minor injuries. If we had better herbs, we could boil them into a medicinal bath. External injuries would heal much faster."
"You know how to prepare medicine?"
"A little."
Her voice became quieter, but she could not hide a hint of pride.
"Uncle taught me to recognize medicinal herbs when I was young. Young Master never liked studying medicine. You always got sleepy as soon as you opened a book."
She smiled faintly.
"Uncle used to say that if Young Master couldn't inherit the clinic one day, at least I would remember everything for you."
A faint memory surfaced.
A small clinic in East City.
Quan Bach sitting beneath a lamp with an old book in his hand.
The young Quan Hao Nhien resting his chin on one palm, yawning.
Tieu Lan sitting beside him with her back straight, carefully writing down the names of medicinal herbs.
Their father sighed, looking both helpless and amused, then lightly tapped his son on the head.
"If you can't remember any of this, then you'll have to listen to Tieu Lan in the future. That girl is more reliable than you are."
The memory was brief.
But warm.
So warm that Hao Nhien felt his chest grow heavier.
Where were Quan Bach and his wife now?
Were they still alive?
If they found him, would they notice that the person before them had changed?
Tieu Lan moved around to face him.
"Young Master, what's wrong? Does it hurt badly?"
"No."
Hao Nhien shook his head.
"I just remembered Father."
Tieu Lan paused.
The brightness in her eyes dimmed.
"Uncle will definitely be all right. He's very capable. Aunt is very clever too. They told us to run first, so they must have had a way to escape."
She said it as though comforting him.
And perhaps herself.
Hao Nhien did not expose the fear beneath her words.
"Mm."
He looked at her.
"Until we hear bad news, we'll assume they're alive."
Tieu Lan raised her head.
Hao Nhien continued,
"If they survived, they'll look for us. If we run around without direction, we may only make it harder to reunite. And if the people who attacked us are still nearby, moving blindly would be dangerous."
"So for now, we stay on the boat. You gather information in town. I recover. Once I have enough strength, we decide what to do next."
Tieu Lan listened carefully.
Her gaze lingered on him as though she were learning who her Young Master was all over again.
Different.
But somehow more reassuring.
"Yes. I'll listen to Young Master."
The sunlight outside had risen higher.
Voices along the riverbank had become clearer.
Several small boats passed in the distance. The people aboard only glanced at the old vessel moored by the shore before moving on.
For those who lived by the river, an unfamiliar boat at the bank was nothing remarkable.
"What is this place called?" Hao Nhien asked.
"Thanh Van Town," Tieu Lan replied.
"I asked a pastry seller this morning. It lies at the foot of Thanh Van Mountain, beside the Thanh Van River. If we travel west for a few more days, there's a small city called… I think it was Binh An City. I didn't ask in detail."
Thanh Van.
Binh An.
Two names that sounded remarkably peaceful.
So peaceful that, to someone who had just survived such upheaval, they almost felt unreal.
Hao Nhien nodded.
"This afternoon, buy more rice, salt, and clean cloth. If you find herbs for external injuries, buy those too. Don't be overly frugal. This body needs to recover first."
Tieu Lan looked surprised.
"Young Master used to hate spending money."
"Things were different then."
The words left his mouth too quickly.
Hao Nhien realized it immediately and added,
"The situation is different now. Money is useless if we don't have the strength to stay alive."
Tieu Lan thought for a moment, then nodded firmly.
"I understand."
She gathered the medicine and stood.
"I'll make some porridge first. You've only just woken up. Something soft will be easier to eat."
"All right."
Tieu Lan went to the bow to start the stove.
Hao Nhien remained alone inside the cabin.
He placed both hands on his knees.
Closed his eyes.
Inhale.
Exhale.
He sought nothing.
He simply returned to the breath.
The inhalation carried the scent of damp wood, medicine, and the faintest trace of cooking smoke from outside.
The exhalation carried away some of the trembling still lingering in his chest.
He observed it.
Did not cling.
Did not push away.
Simply knew.
One breath.
Two.
Three.
Gradually, the broken fragments of memory stopped colliding with one another.
The pain of losing Anh Nhien was still there.
The emptiness inside the Ark was still there.
The uncertainty surrounding the Quan family's parents was still there.
But they no longer pulled him in three directions at once.
The smell of porridge began to drift into the cabin.
Faint.
Simple.
Hao Nhien opened his eyes.
Before him was still the old wooden wall.
A small crack ran along the grain, with a thin layer of moss clinging to parts of it.
He looked at the crack for a while.
Then stood.
Outside, Tieu Lan had just lifted the lid from the pot.
Steam rose into the morning light.
Hao Nhien pushed open the door and stepped out.
Before he could think about the Firmament Continent—he first had to survive today.