Pushing open the door to the Heal Clinic, a gentle scent—dry herbs mingled with a faint trace of disinfectant—wrapped around them like a soft blanket.
The clinic wasn't large, but it felt airy and meticulously orderly.
Warm tones dominated the space. The original wood floor had been polished to a mellow sheen; footsteps landed with only the slightest sound. The walls were painted a soft off-white, and several simply framed meridian charts and anatomical diagrams hung in staggered balance—rational precision quietly conversing with ancient wisdom.
Along the walls stood two enormous medicine cabinets, the most striking features in the room.
On one side: an elegant Chinese apothecary "hundred-drawer" cabinet. Dark wooden panels held countless small drawers, each labeled in neat regular script—Dang Gui, Huang Qi, Fu Ling, Yuan Zhi… The brass ring pulls had been worn smooth and warm by years of use.
On the other: a sleek, modern Western pharmacy cabinet. Behind clear glass doors, rows of white bottles and boxed medicines sat in strict order—labels crisp, categories exact—radiating the calm coldness of science.
A broad solid-wood consultation desk sat by the window. Its smooth surface reflected the sunlight pouring in.
In one corner of the desk rested an elegant brass microscope. Beside it: a set of glossy white porcelain mortar and pestle, the bowl still dusted with fine herbal powder that hadn't been fully cleaned. A thin modern monitor shared the space with a rustic pulse pillow in perfect, almost stubborn harmony. A small tea table held white porcelain tea ware, a stack of medical journals, and a thriving pothos plant whose vines spilled down in soft green curtains.
The air was a strange comfort: American ginseng's mild sweetness, aged tangerine peel's sour bite, mint's clean coolness—and the faint volatility of alcohol—blended into something uniquely reassuring.
Across the street: The audience seats were full.
Inside Random Play, Wise and Belle were squeezed in front of the monitor, popcorn in hand.
"Fairy, zoom the feed from Camera 3!" Belle jabbed the screen with a delighted finger. "Look at Captain Zhu Yuan's expression!"
On-screen, the Heal Clinic displayed in crisp real-time. One of Fairy's micro-cameras had been tucked into a decorative TCM model above the medicine cabinet, capturing every angle perfectly.
"Didn't expect Qianye's security to be this easy to crack," Wise chuckled, shaking his head. "But I didn't expect him to install so many hidden cameras inside the clinic, either."
"It's for monitoring medicine storage conditions," Belle said through a mouthful of popcorn, words blurred. "But hey—works for us!"
Inside the clinic: three visitors, one host, and zero eye contact.
Qianye watched the three guests who had entered, looked around, and still hadn't properly focused on him. He lifted the teapot, filled three cups, and slid them across the table toward them.
"So," he said mildly, "have you finished looking?"
Qingyi stared at the cup placed in front of her for a moment, then spoke with slow, meaningful emphasis.
"Mm. Seems you're not very pleased to see the three of us, Qianye."
"If you'd just traveled a long distance, finally got home wanting only to rest," Qianye replied evenly, "and then found a few… 'not-so-well-intentioned' people blocking your door—and you still had to host them—no one would be in a good mood."
"Ah, how rude of us," Qingyi chirped, instantly switching gears. "But Zhu Yuan and I came bearing gifts. Zhu Yuan—hurry and take yours out?"
Gifts? What gifts? Zhu Yuan's mind blanked.
*The K22 Riot Suppressor I carry? But that's my weapon—and even if I gave it to him, the recoil would wreck his hands… and I'd—
Why is my brain doing this again?!
Zhu Yuan's face wore a stiff smile as she lightly patted her cheeks—like she could slap her thoughts back into formation.
"Pfft—" Belle's laughter burst out in the video store. "Look at her! She's actually considering giving him a gun!"
Wise zoomed in, thoughtful. "Our Captain is having a full-on emotional logistics problem."
Yanagi's alarms: silent, sharp, and very personal.
Across Qingyi from Zhu Yuan, Tsukishiro Yanagi adjusted her glasses without expression.
But inside, her vigilance climbed rapidly.
So they weren't here for a casual 'visit' at all. They prepared gifts—meaning they planned this in advance.
And I came in a rush… only bought red bean buns on the way…
…Wait—why is my brain trying to "optimize" this like that? That's dangerous.
As Yanagi—uncharacteristically—also tapped her own cheek, Qianye's suspicion flickered. He stood, stepped closer, and reached toward her as she tried to subtly retreat.
"Don't move. Let me see."
He gently lifted her chin. His fingertips were cool—enough to make her tremble once.
Under the clinic's warm lighting, his emerald eyes looked intensely focused, as if they could see through lenses and straight into whatever was hiding behind them. The soft light laid a faint halo along his silver hair, making him seem… unreal, half veiled in mist.
"Lower eyelids… slight pupil diffusion… abnormal bloodshot distribution…" he murmured, breath warm against her cheek.
"Deputy Captain Yanagi—did you pull another all-nighter?"
He leaned a touch closer; his nose twitched.
"And you ate a lot of red bean products today. Trying to cover fatigue with sweetness? That's not a good habit."
Yanagi tried to turn her head away—only to realize she couldn't.
Not because he restrained her.
Because she was caught—hooked—by the look in those eyes.
The earlier impatience had vanished. What remained was something like forest light on water—bright, hot, but not harsh. Close enough to burn you, gentle enough to make you step closer voluntarily.
She could smell the faint disinfectant on him, and an undercurrent of licorice.
Something in her blood—something not entirely human—stirred like steam trying to burst a kettle.
"I…" Her voice came out softer than usual. A greedy crimson flickered for an instant deep inside her violet gaze—like a rose blooming in a field of violets—
Then reason and self-control fell like winter snow and buried it.
"Just… work."
"Overwork reduces judgment," Qianye cut in—calm, flat, and unmistakably non-negotiable.
Then he turned his gaze to Zhu Yuan, brows faintly furrowing.
"And Captain Zhu Yuan—your heart rate is too fast. Palms sweating. You're in a heightened anxiety state."
He tilted his chin toward her collar.
"Also—your tie clip is crooked. Doesn't that bother your perfectionism?"
Zhu Yuan jerked her hands back from her lap. A flash of panic crossed her face. She snapped the tie clip straight so fast it might as well have left afterimages.
"This is normal occupational vigilance!" she protested, but her pitch lifted half a tone without permission.
"…You're all stubborn," Qianye said dryly. "Harder-mouthed than my Xu Ge Ya's elbow strike."
He turned away, pulled open several apothecary drawers, and began selecting ingredients.
"Let's see—Aloeswood 7g, Angelica dahurica 4g, Fennel 4g…"
The "competition" becomes official.
Yanagi's eyes sharpened as she glanced at Zhu Yuan. Seeing Qianye's attention "distributed equally" ignited a pathetic little spark of jealousy she would never, ever admit to.
Her voice stayed mild, almost kind—yet the edge of superiority slipped through like a blade in velvet.
"Captain Zhu Yuan seems to lack necessary relaxation training. Section 6 has dedicated psychological adjustment sessions every week. Perhaps we could share them with your investigation unit."
Zhu Yuan's posture instantly became straighter. A competitive flame lit in her red eyes.
"Thank you for the concern, Deputy Captain. Our Criminal Investigation Special Response Unit has complete health management protocols—three physical training sessions weekly and one meditation class."
"Oh?" Yanagi raised her cup and took a refined sip. "Then the results seem… limited."
She smiled softly.
"After all, you didn't even notice your tie clip was crooked."
From the side, Qianye muttered while measuring herbs, "I think the bigger issue is certain people working nonstop and pulling all-nighters…"
No one heard him.
In Random Play, Belle collapsed into helpless laughter. "His one-liners are always surgical!"
Wise nodded. "They're not here for the 'mission' anymore. They're here to win."
Zhu Yuan's gambit: a gift that's also a leash.
Yanagi tried to pull the conversation back on track—tone unusually gentle.
"As for why we came—"
"Speaking of that," Zhu Yuan cut in sharply, as if her own will had finally found traction. She pulled a small, exquisite Security Bureau commemorative badge from her pocket.
"This is the newest version," she said with almost ceremonial seriousness. "It has a built-in micro alarm. If you press the button on the back, nearby Security officers receive an emergency signal."
She slid it toward Qianye.
"Please accept it as a gift."
Qianye looked at the small badge.
He fell silent for a moment—then turned back and continued tying herbs, as if refusing to touch it was simply… efficient.
"Thank you. Put it there."
Zhu Yuan's solemnity crumbled, like a sandcastle under a receding tide.
Why won't he just turn around and take it?
Is it… because it's not the kind of gift normal people like? Did I miscalculate?
Without looking up, Qianye spoke—voice steady.
"It's not that I don't like it."
"It's that this gift won't spoil. As long as I can see it, I'll be reminded of the sincerity behind it."
"And precisely because I was rude earlier—and because I want to be worthy of the value of that gift—I need to focus completely on making the herbal pouch properly, to repay your goodwill, Zhu Yuan."
The moment those words landed—
Zhu Yuan's happiness snapped back into place so violently that her smile almost out-pressed her K22.
I knew it. I knew it…!
Qingyi said nothing. She just compared—quietly—the Zhu Yuan in front of her now (one breath away from losing restraint) with the Zhu Yuan who had once spoken, with iron certainty, about "sacrificing" for New Eridu.
Then Qingyi poured herself another cup of tea.
Yanagi's mouth twitched.
"Captain Zhu Yuan's gift really is… professionally distinctive."
She reached into her bag and produced a delicately wrapped wagashi box in fine washi paper.
"These are red bean buns. The only ones I genuinely approve of. I hope you like them."
She flicked her eyes toward Zhu Yuan.
"Compared to an alarm… these provide rather more practical comfort."
"Alright. It's done."
Qianye sealed the herbal pouch with string and turned back, blinking at the two utterly different "gifts" on the table. His silver cowlick wobbled in confusion.
"Thank you… Though one of these feels like you want me to be ready to flee at any moment," he muttered, "and the other is… uh…"
He squinted.
"It looks exactly like something a friend of mine really likes."
His voice dropped to a tired whisper.
"Can't I just live peacefully…"
The herb scent seemed to grow stronger, threaded with invisible tension and anticipation. Tiny brass rings on the apothecary cabinet chimed softly with the breeze—like accompaniment to a silent contest.
Across the street, Wise and Belle watched with glee.
"I'm telling you," Belle said, grabbing another handful of popcorn. "This is about to get good."
"It is," Wise smiled. "But we'd better not let Qianye find out we're spying."
"Relax," Belle said smugly. "Fairy's clean."
Wise nodded. "Then… let's keep eating the melon. Qianye's drama always tastes premium—"
He paused.
"Huh? They're leaving already?"
Fairy's verdict: détente is the rational move.
Fairy's voice echoed through the store:
"Assistant Three, allow me to present a maxim—'Reconciliation with one's enemy is driven by a desire to improve one's own condition, fatigue from struggle, or fear of an undesirable outcome.'"
"And now, since both sides are wary, and both understand that any overt move will be countered… withdrawal is the optimal strategy."
"Ah… what a pity," Belle sighed dramatically.
Wise sighed too, just as theatrically. "Such a pity."
But Zhu Yuan's "advantage" was never the conversation.
On the way back, Qingyi spoke with a languid, regretful tone.
"If not for that Tsukishiro lady crossing paths with us, Zhu Yuan… you might've investigated to the bottom of it."
"No, Senior." Zhu Yuan shook her head as she drove, eyes shining with calm certainty.
"It's not a pity."
"Yes, Deputy Captain Yanagi disrupted my plan."
"But I still achieved my objective."
Her lips curved—small, sharp.
"At the very least…"
"I successfully placed my 'eye' beside him."
Qingyi smiled faintly.
I see.
Then I won't tell you that Yanagi also placed her own 'eye.'
But before that…
Qingyi's gaze drifted, thoughtful.
Among the "lines of sight" I sensed earlier…
Who do those other eyes belong to?
Join here to read ahead.
In Star Rail, Ultra-Beast Armored — Have I Caught "Equilibrium"? l (Chapter 80)
Uma Musume, But I Only Have Five Years Left to Live (Chapter 178)
Zenless Zone Zero: I'm a Doctor, Not a Bangboo (Chapter 115)
Ben Tennyson Wants to Join the Justice League ( 126 )
TYPE-MOON: Redemption Beginning with the Holy Grail War (Chapter110)
Yu-Gi-Oh! — Transmigrated into the White Dragon Girl (Chapter116)
"Is this chat group even serious?" (Chapter82)
I, Lord Ravager, Utterly Loyal! (Chapter144)
Can Playing Games Save the World? 65
Crossover Anime Multiverse: The Demon Hunter of an Unnatural World 77
From Junkman to Wasteland 66
Weekly Refresh of Overpowered 31
I'm Grinding Proficiency Like 46
From Kiana, Lord Ravager, Onwa 118
Honkai: Is This Still the Prev 42
Elf: My Starter Pokémon Is Inc 65
Warhammer: My Primarch Is Remi 111
From Demon Slayer to Grand Ass 80
The Way the Umamusume Look at 68
Uma Musume, but My Cheat Power 112
Naruto: Weaving the Future, Be 65
Zenless Zone Zero, but Kamen R 76
Multiverse Crossover: The Perf 66
My Cyberpsycho Girlfriend 65
Uma Musume: The Dark Trainer 95
Uma Musume: A Calamity Born fr 89
I, a Reincarnation-Loop Player 53
The Violent Girl Group Is Beat 61
Uma Musume: The Horse Girl Who 65
Uma Musume: From Beginner 61
Becoming a Horse Girl, I Will 37
Uma Musume: I Want All 35
I Can Copy Unique Skills 36
A Guide to Aid in the Underwor 26
Summoning an Evil God, but the 27
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