Wandering Through the Past

On a rare day off, Zhang Wei ventured into unexplored territories within the palace, seeking to unveil its secrets. The corridor he currently navigated whispered of forgotten stories and untold intrigues, once reserved for consorts and figures from a bygone era. Despite his two years of service, he had never found cause to tread these halls, as they held a reserved, almost sacred, ambience.

In his musings, Zhang Wei contemplated the purpose of this place—an abode for those whose destinies were intricately woven with the threads of the past, awaiting the closure of their life's chapter. The thought dawned on him that exploring this hidden realm might lead him to Xin Yan, the ex-Noble Consort and mother of Princess Xiyang Ai. He hoped to uncover more about the palace's concealed intrigues in her presence, particularly the treacherous plot orchestrated by Empress Xia and Emperor Ming Jian, a plot shrouded in secrecy and known to few.

As Zhang Wei continued down the corridor, a sensory journey unfolded, each step revealing the palace's hidden tales. The air, tinged with a subtle fragrance of aged wood and lingering whispers of the past, enveloped him. The hushed echoes of distant footsteps seemed to carry the weight of outdated conversations, secrets exchanged in the solitude of these secluded halls.

His fingertips grazed the cool surface of intricately carved panels, tracing the craftsmanship of a bygone era. The texture beneath his touch spoke of countless hands that had once caressed these very surfaces, leaving behind a silent testimony to the passage of time.

The ambient light, filtered through delicate latticework, cast intricate patterns on the ground. Shadows danced, creating an ethereal tapestry that seemed to hold fragments of forgotten narratives. Zhang Wei's sharp eyes absorbed these visual cues, allowing the play of light and shadow to guide him further into the heart of the mysterious corridor.

Subdued sounds of distant court life drifted through the air—a melodic symphony of palace life. The rustle of silken robes, the soft murmur of conversations hidden behind closed doors, and the occasional distant laughter formed a backdrop to the enigma that surrounded him.

As he ventured deeper, the subtle aroma of ancient scrolls and timeworn manuscripts teased his senses. The corridor, it seemed, held not only the memories of those who once resided here but also the wisdom and knowledge that had accumulated over the ages. Each breath brought forth a scent of the palace's literary heritage.

Zhang Wei's journey through this corridor became a sensory odyssey, a pilgrimage through time and space. The convergence of sight, touch, smell, and sound painted a vivid tapestry of the palace's untold history, sparking his curiosity to delve even further into the secrets that lay hidden within its walls.

In a corridor veiled by the whispers of history, Zhang Wei's heart resonated with an unspoken call. His senses heightened, drawing him inexorably toward a particular chamber—Harmony Blossom. As he neared the door, the ethereal fragrance that permeated the air hinted at both antiquity and untold stories. His eyes, fixated on the carved characters, revealed the room's identity.

However, what seized his attention was not the engraved name but a delicate hand, barely visible through the doorway. Urgency gripped him as he rushed forward, his instincts propelling him into the chamber. There, amidst the quiet shadows, lay a woman, battered and bleeding, her identity veiled to him. Without a moment's hesitation, Zhang Wei, driven by compassion and a surge of protective instinct, scooped her fragile form into his arms.

Cradling her against his chest, he moved with swift determination through the palace corridors, navigating the labyrinthine paths toward the imperial clinic. Each step echoed with a silent promise to shield this unknown woman from the peril that had befallen her. The journey to the clinic became a race against time, his strides measured but purposeful, carrying the weight of a battered soul seeking solace and healing.

In the tumultuous urgency of the moment, Zhang Wei's every step echoed with a silent plea for time to slow, for the corridor to stretch longer, and for the world to grant him the swiftness needed to ensure the woman cradled in his arms received prompt medical attention. As he sprinted through the palace corridors, the whispers of onlookers hung in the air. Courtiers and servants paused in their duties, their eyes widening at the sight of a soldier, a man known for his steadfast resolve on the battlefield, now racing against an unseen adversary.

"Make way! Clear the path!" Zhang Wei's urgent shouts reverberated through the halls, a command both insistent and desperate. Pleading with passersby to part like a sea before him, he navigated the maze of the palace with a singular focus. The uncertainty gnawed at him—the unknown condition of the woman he cradled, the urgency of her injuries, and the race against time to reach the sanctuary of the imperial clinic.

His breaths came in hurried gasps, his chest rising and falling with each stride, carrying not just the weight of the injured woman but the gravity of a life hanging in the balance. A glance at her fragile form, nestled against him, intensified his resolve. He dared not entertain the possibility that the vital moments slipping away might prove irreversible.

Rounding corners and bypassing startled courtiers, Zhang Wei's determined sprint echoed the desperate rhythm of his heartbeat. The throng of onlookers, initially frozen in surprise, gradually yielded to the urgency etched on his face. The hushed whispers followed him like fleeting shadows, curiosity mingling with concern.

As the doors to the imperial clinic loomed before him, Zhang Wei's strides quickened. The attending physicians, startled by the unexpected arrival, immediately cleared a space for the urgent intervention required. Zhang Wei, a stoic figure in a whirlwind of activity, gently placed the woman on the examination table, his eyes imploring the medical attendants to act swiftly.

Not wasting a moment, Zhang Wei, knowing the proficiency of Imperial Doctor Hua Ying, summoned him with an urgent tone. Recognizing Zhang Wei's distress, the doctor hurried over, ready to address whatever concern had brought the steadfast soldier to the clinic once again. The tension in Zhang Wei's face, coupled with the woman he cradled in his arms, spoke volumes before a single word was exchanged.

Without waiting for an inquiry, Imperial Doctor Hua Ying swiftly opened an examination room, gesturing for Zhang Wei to lay the woman down. Zhang Wei, on the verge of expressing his request for a thorough checkup, found the doctor already understanding his unspoken plea. Zhang Wei hesitated, but before he could articulate his concerns, the doctor, experienced in their unspoken communication, directed him to wait outside, ensuring no interruptions during the critical examination.

"I cannot remain idle," Zhang Wei asserted, a soldier's instinct compelling him to be actively involved in the fate unfolding before him. In response, Imperial Doctor Hua Ying, aware of Zhang Wei's commitment and understanding of the gravity of the situation, requested him to fetch a physicist and pharmacist for additional assistance.

"We need every capable hand," the doctor emphasized, confident in naming specific individuals whose expertise he trusted. Determined, Zhang Wei ventured out in search of the recommended reinforcements, determined to assemble a team capable of unravelling the mystery shrouding the woman's condition.

The frantic journey from the hidden corridors to the life-sustaining realm of the clinic encapsulated a desperate plea for salvation, a lone soldier racing against time to rewrite the narrative of an unknown woman's fate within the walls of the imperial palace.

As Zhang Wei hurried through the palace corridors in search of the physicist and pharmacist requested by Imperial Doctor Hua Ying, he navigated the intricacies of the imperial domain. With a resolute determination, he located the recommended individuals, conveying the urgency of the situation and enlisting their expertise to aid the mysterious woman's dire condition.

Returning with the physicist and pharmacist in tow, Zhang Wei reentered the clinic to find a controlled chaos within. Imperial Doctor Hua Ying had orchestrated a symphony of medical expertise, each member of the team working diligently to assess and diagnose the woman's ailments. The physicist meticulously examined her internal energies, while the pharmacist prepared remedies to counter any detected imbalances.

Zhang Wei, his military discipline tested by the unfolding uncertainty, stood outside the examination room, a silent sentinel awaiting news of the woman's fate. Time seemed to stretch endlessly as the medical team delved into their analyses. The air within the clinic buzzed with focused energy, a collective effort to decipher the enigma that shrouded the unconscious woman.

Imperial Doctor Hua Ying emerged from the room, his expression a delicate balance between hope and caution. He conveyed the initial findings, explaining the severity of the woman's injuries and the complexity of the treatment required. The physicist and pharmacist continued their work, determined to unravel the intricacies of her condition.

As the medical team diligently worked to stabilize the woman, Zhang Wei paced outside, grappling with a sense of powerlessness. The passage of time felt both agonizingly slow and unnervingly swift, the uncertainty of the situation casting a shadow over his stoic demeanour.

Within the confined space of the clinic, the fate of an unknown woman hung in the balance, her destiny intertwined with the collective efforts of the medical team and the unwavering determination of a soldier who had become an unexpected guardian of life within the imperial palace.