The Spirit of Yun

Ignoring the howls of the bun-maker, I walked up to Zheng.

"Sire," I curtsied, before plucking out a handkerchief that Li Mei had given to me as a gift back when I first danced for Sui Yu Lou.

Zheng jolted. "Qingqing, what are you doing here?" Irritation flashed across his face as he looked to the doors.

"Didn't I order them not to let you come in?" he hissed. Not answering him, I wiped his blood-stained face with my pink handkerchief, bending closer to him past his wheelchair handles.

"Qingqing..." He took my hand to stop me, but I couldn't help notice the dark eye bags under his eyes. They were much worse than they had been the past few days. I tucked the handkerchief back into my robes, deciding to clean his forehead later.

As the criminal whimpered and cowered in pain in the corner of the tent, I gazed at Zheng's face.

"Let me join you in your investigations for Sui Yu Lou."

Immediate concern filled his face. "But..."