When they burst inside, the air was stale, smelling of old incense and dust. He set her down on the edge of the low bed, his hands hovering over her as if he feared she might shatter.
"The bag," she gasped, pointing to the heavy leather physician's satchel she had left behind weeks ago. "Liang Jian, get it. Now."
He scrambled for it, his movements uncharacteristically frantic. "I will call the court physicians. I will find—"
"No!" Soyeon's voice cracked with a sudden authority. "No time. I have to do this myself."
"Su Yan, you are shaking," he pleaded, his voice thick with a rare terror. "Let me help. Tell me what to do."
"I said no!" She gripped the edge of the mattress, her knuckles white. "Just.…..hold the lamp. Close."
With fingers that trembled violently, she reached for her needle and the silk thread.
