3.

Here is the next chapter (~1500 words) with a panicky, emotionally charged tone, as requested. The reactions are dynamic and individual to each character, and the pacing builds tension while gradually shifting to warmth and humor.

Chapter 4 — Heat in the Veins, Storm in the Courtyard

Li Siming had just finished the last bite of the odd bluish-purple fruit.

It was sweet at first, then slightly bitter. Like plum and old ginseng mixed. He chewed thoughtfully, wondering what kind of medicine it was, when—

Heat.

A wave of burning heat surged from his injured wrist up to his shoulder, then pulsed through his entire arm like a whip of fire. It twisted through muscle and bone like something alive.

His hand spasmed.

His fingers curled and clenched involuntarily.

A gasp tore out of his throat—but he bit it back, hard, biting the inside of his cheek instead. His whole body shuddered as if struck by lightning, his legs buckling under the weight of the sudden shock.

The pain wasn't normal. This wasn't medicine. It was more like... a purge. As if something was melting away the injury itself.

And then—stillness.

The pain vanished as quickly as it came. Siming blinked, chest heaving, sweat beading on his brow.

Then he realized—

His wrist didn't hurt.

His fingers moved—easily, naturally.

He turned his hand over, slowly… then clenched it.

No stiffness. No ache. No hesitation.

He stood up too quickly and nearly tripped over his own feet, breath catching in his throat.

Healed.

He was actually healed.

His heart thudded loudly in his chest, disbelief warring with joy, and without another thought, he dashed toward Li Sining's room.

"Fifth Brother!" he called breathlessly, skidding to a stop inside.

But the room was empty. Only a half-drunk cup of tea sat on the desk, still warm. The curtain rustled faintly in the afternoon breeze.

He turned on his heel and bolted down the hallway.

He found them in the back garden, Li Sining standing under the shade of a pear tree, speaking softly with one of the guards. The leaves trembled gently in the summer wind.

"FIFTH BROTHER!"

Li Sining turned just in time to catch the older boy charging at him like a boulder.

Siming threw his arms around him in a tight, bone-crushing hug.

"Wha—hey!" Li Sining stumbled slightly but steadied them both. "What's gotten into you?"

Siming's voice cracked with relief. "It's gone. The pain. My wrist—it's completely healed! I can move it. Clench it. I—I can fight again!"

Li Sining patted his back, sighing softly.

This big fool of a brother. Always calm when bleeding, always reckless when excited.

"Lower your voice," he said. "You'll scare the chickens."

"I don't care!" Siming grinned, stepping back, eyes shining with genuine fire. "You healed me. I don't know how, and I won't ask… but thank you."

Li Sining looked at him carefully, and then—he laughed. It was short, rare, and real.

"I'll take you up on that later," he said. "Since you're healed, help share the burden. I'm not a one-man kingdom."

Siming nodded earnestly. "I will. I swear it."

Before Li Sining could say anything else, he noticed another figure approaching from the path—quietly, silently.

Li Sixue.

She walked slowly, her posture rigid. But her face was… different.

The long scar that had once stretched across her cheek was gone. Completely gone.

Her skin was flawless, pale under the sunlight. It was as if the scar had never existed.

Her lips trembled, just a little, and her gaze fixed on Li Sining.

"…You used it on me too," she said quietly.

He said nothing.

She looked away, then back again, eyes shifting with emotion—relief, confusion, perhaps guilt.

"I should say thank you. So… thank you," she said. "But next time, don't use such a thing so bluntly."

Li Sining tilted his head. "You didn't ask what it was."

"I don't need to," she replied sharply. "Anything that can erase a scar that old in seconds… isn't normal. You should be more careful. Human hearts are scary."

He stepped forward and gently reached out to ruffle her hair, a rare smile on his lips.

She slapped his hand away immediately, cheeks flushing. "I'm not a child."

"No," he said. "But you're still my sister."

She huffed, spun on her heel, and walked off. But she didn't look angry. Not really.

Li Sining shook his head and chuckled again.

He barely had a second to breathe when another whirlwind came tearing through the grass.

"FIFTH BROTHER—!"

Li Sitao ran like a wild dog let off its leash, arms flailing, face soaked with sweat.

"Wait, wait—!" Sining barely had time to open his arms when Sitao launched himself at him and wrapped around his waist with all the desperation of a child who'd found a lost parent.

"I can run again!" Sitao cried. "I thought my leg would never be the same—I thought I'd limp forever—but now it doesn't hurt! I ran here! I ran, Brother!"

Sining blinked down at the crying boy who refused to let go.

"…You're even more dramatic than Siming."

"I thought I was ruined!" Sitao bawled. "I thought no one would want to marry me! I was going to be a cripple forever!"

"You're fourteen," Li Sining muttered, exasperated.

"I'll marry whoever you say!" Sitao sniffled. "I swear! You pick someone and I'll do it! As long as you don't hate me!"

Li Sining pinched his ear.

"OW—!"

"Stop talking about marriage already! You're barely literate. Go study your classics."

"Yes, yes, I will, I promise!" Sitao whimpered, still clinging to him. "Just don't give me any more terrifying fruit!"

Li Sining raised a brow. "Did it hurt?"

"Like my leg was dipped in boiling oil! But it was amazing!" he sniffled. "Scary. But amazing…"

Li Sining laughed again.

Li Sihua sat in front of the mirror.

The copper surface was old, dulled around the edges with age and use, and the reflection it gave was always a little hazy—more suggestion than truth. Yet, for the first time in what felt like years, she dared to look into it.

What she saw… made her breath catch.

No scar.

Her skin was smooth once more. Pale, soft, untouched by the jagged mark that had carved down her cheek, haunting every glance, every whisper in the dark.

Her fingers trembled as she raised them to her face, lightly brushing the cheek that had once been a battlefield.

Her lips parted.

She pressed her palms to her face and broke into sobs—silent, shaking sobs that spilled freely down her cheeks. This time, the tears weren't from shame or grief.

They were from relief.

For the first time since the night their palace fell, she looked into a mirror and saw herself.

The girl who used to braid her sisters' hair. The one who used to hum when she worked with her hands. The one who smiled without fear.

Li Sihua cried for her.

When she stepped outside, the sun was bright but gentle. The wind, cool and fragrant with early summer grass, tousled her sleeves as she walked into the courtyard.

This time, she didn't hunch her shoulders. She didn't lower her gaze or cover her cheek with a scarf. She walked with her back straight, head high.

She was not a shadow.Not anymore.

As she stepped through the corridor that led to the main courtyard, she saw another familiar figure standing under the eaves.

Li Siyun.

Her younger sister had always been sharp-eyed, clever-tongued, and gentle with her hands. But ever since that night—when the blast from a sorcerer's weapon struck her head—she had fallen into a silent darkness. Her world had gone dim, and her voice followed soon after.

She hadn't spoken more than a whisper in weeks.

But now… she was standing.

And there were tears on her face. Clear tears, and her eyes—those lovely eyes, so full of quiet understanding—were looking back.

They met.

Two sisters, one who had once seen nothing, and one who had refused to be seen.

Li Sihua ran forward.

"Siyun!"

Li Siyun gasped as the figure ran toward her, and then she, too, smiled wide and bright—brighter than she had in months.

They embraced.

Neither said much. They didn't need to.

Their hearts knew what the words couldn't express.

At the back of the garden, Li Sining was still trying to pry Li Sitao off his waist. The boy had clung to him like an octopus, swearing eternal loyalty, martial devotion, and at least three imaginary marriage pacts.

"You're really hopeless," Sining muttered, giving his ear a half-hearted tug.

Then, his eyes caught movement.

He froze.

There, walking together, were Li Sihua and Li Siyun.

He recognized them immediately, but his mind needed a moment to accept what he was seeing.

Siyun—whose eyes had not seen daylight in over a month—was moving without aid, watching her sister's steps with perfect clarity. And Sihua—once hesitant, withdrawn—was walking proudly beside her.

And both were smiling.

When they stopped before him and bowed deeply, he stumbled forward in alarm.

"What are you doing?! Stand up!" he said, hurriedly lifting them by their arms. "Don't—don't bow to me like that. We're family."

But they didn't rise at once. They pressed their foreheads low, tears falling into the dirt.

"Fifth Brother," Sihua said, her voice tight, "thank you. I don't know what you gave us. I won't ask. But I will never forget it."

"Never," Siyun echoed quietly.

He clenched his jaw. This wasn't what he'd wanted—this kind of reverence, this kind of burden. But it was already too late. The moment they had been healed, the balance between them had shifted. He was no longer just the fifth brother who quietly followed the elders.

He was the one who had pulled them back from the brink.

He sighed and pulled both of them forward, wrapping his arms around their shoulders.

"Stop it," he murmured. "Stop crying. If you all keep crying every time something goes right, I'll think you've forgotten how to smile."

But his arms held firm.

Sihua wept quietly against his shoulder.

Siyun clung to his sleeve with delicate fingers.

"You gave us back something we thought we'd lost forever," Siyun said softly. "It's not something we can repay. But we will carry it with us, always."

Sining didn't reply.

He just held them until they were calm.

Nearby, some of the guards turned their heads discreetly, pretending not to see. One scratched his ear. Another feigned intense interest in the state of a wooden bench.

Even the Shadow Guard Captain, passing through with a freshly updated ledger, paused mid-step.

He stood there for a long moment, watching the scene with unreadable eyes.

So this is the Fifth Prince, he thought.Gentle enough to shoulder grief, fierce enough to protect with silence.

The boy who had returned from the edge of death had become something more.

Not quite a ruler.

Not quite a brother.

Something between.

Something stronger.

That evening, the household was quiet.

The air was filled with soft chatter, the sound of siblings speaking for the first time in days, or even weeks, not about war or pain, but about small things—clothes that needed mending, plans for tomorrow, memories of home.

Li Siming cleaned his sword and practiced light forms in the courtyard.Li Siheng and Sijun played a slow game of chess with actual laughter.Li Silan read aloud to Li Sichen under the light of a lantern.Li Sitao, tired out from crying, finally sat and started copying his character scrolls.