Chapter 851: Battle! Qingque

The off‑white walls, a row of identical wooden lattice sliding doors, and the floor that Jing Yuan had just stepped on.

Sunlight slants in through the window at the end of the corridor; the air still carries the sharp bitterness of simmered herbs and the smoky scent of moxibustion, but now there is an additional flavor.

Qingque wrinkled her nose.

She was not unfamiliar with this smell.

When Jing Yuan's voice drifted in through the doorway earlier, the air was filled with that scent.

Sweet, yet the kind that makes one feel something is off.

She tiptoed toward the left side of the corridor.

Most of the wards along the corridor were closed, a few were half‑open; she flashed a quick glance inside—empty beds, neatly stacked bedding, medicine jars on the nightstands, no one.

No one at all.

"What's going on?"

She muttered softly.

The Dan Ding Office wasn't usually swarming with people, but there were still physicians moving about, wounded Cloud Cavalry soldiers whining, and Lord Bai Lu's scolding of disobedient patients echoing from one end of the corridor to the other.

Now, however, the entire corridor is spotless as if someone had cleared it, and even the caramel scent in the air is stronger than any crowd.

She stopped when she reached a fork.

To the left led the passage to the Dan Ding Office's main entrance; to the right was the corridor toward the back courtyard.

The main entrance offers the possibility of many people, safety, and an immediate exit from this cursed place.

The back courtyard offers the possibility of ginkgo trees, low shrubs, and a more discreet wall‑climbing escape.

Qingque was weighing her options when a sudden footstep echoed from the other end of the corner ahead.

The sound differed from Jing Yuan's steady, oddly lingering tread; it was light and delicate, the patter of small boots on wooden floor.

Qingque's first reaction was to press against the wall and slip sideways into the shadow of a nearby wooden pillar.

Just as she hid, a petite figure turned out from the corner.

Little Dragon Girl of the Chi Ming Tribe, the medicine‑bearing Dragon Girl of the Dan Ding Office, Bai Lu.

A misty violet plait hung at her waist, the light‑golden hair ties at the braid's tail swayed gently with each step.

A pair of translucent pale‑white, violet‑tinged dragon horns on her forehead caught the sunlight with a semi‑transparent sheen.

Her almond eyes, a gradient of azure, sparkled; the outer corners were accented with a faint red line, giving the already lively eyes extra vigor.

A wide‑sleeved, open‑front robe of off‑white and light indigo draped over a black sleeveless underskirt; the dragon‑scale pattern along the hem glimmered faintly like silver threads in the light.

A long, pale‑purple dragon tail extended from her lower back, swaying gently, its fluffy lilac tip bobbing with each step.

Bai Lu cradled a vermilion‑colored small medicine box, humming an indecipherable nursery rhyme, exuding an aura of "full of vigor today".

When Qingque saw Bai Lu, the tension in her shoulders eased slightly.

A normal one.

The thought just formed in her mind, and she had already taken a step forward, intending to emerge from behind the pillar to greet Bai Lu and ask, "Lord Bai Lu, did the Dan Ding Office collectively take the wrong medicine today?", the moment her lips began to part, Bai Lu halted.

She stopped without warning. The humming nursery rhyme ceased.

Her azure almond eyes turned directly toward the pillar where Qingque was hidden.

The eyes remained bright and lively, but the deep blue spot at the center of the pupils flickered as if something was sparkling.

Qingque's outstretched foot froze mid‑air.

Bai Lu tilted her head.

She placed the medicine box on the windowsill, brushed imagined dust from her sleeves, lifted her chin, and in her usual soft, sweet childlike voice, spoke clearly and precisely.

"Qingque! Fight!"

Qingque's mind stalled for half a second.

She stared at Bai Lu's round, soft, egg‑shaped face, at her light pink‑sakura mouth, at the translucent dragon horns reflecting the sunlight, then recombined the two words that slipped from her mouth in her mind.

Come—fight—.

Not "come play," not "come drink medicine," but "come fight."

"What?"

Qingque's mouth produced a trembling question mark.

Bai Lu gave no answer.

Her dragon tail swung in a larger arc behind her, her black‑and‑white patched boots tapped the ground twice in place, knees slightly bent, arms spread to the sides, assuming a stance that, though ill‑suited to her frame, looked impressively solid.

The light in those azure almond eyes brightened again, the corners of her mouth lifted, revealing the same soft, cute smile she always wore.

"Can you spar with me?"

Qingque stepped back.

Another step back.

She opened and closed her mouth, finally emitting a single exclamation from her throat.

"Sss—!"

Then she turned and ran.

Decisively swift, without hesitation.

The teal hem traced a graceful arc as she spun, her bare feet pattering rapidly on the floor.

"Don't run!"

Bai Lu's voice chased after her, a milk‑toned, angry excitement that sounded like a raging Doll cat.

Immediately followed by a thundering crash on the floor, thud!

The floor where Qingque had just stood was dented, wood shavings scattering.

She didn't look back, but the back of her head clearly felt the shockwave.

Running even faster!

"Stop! Fight! Qingque, you stop!"

"What are you fighting for! Lady Dragon Maiden, pull yourself together! You're a doctor, not a warrior! The gourd you carry holds medicine, not weapons!"

Bai Lu behind them did not budge an inch.

The little leather boots' footsteps on the floor grew increasingly rapid, the cadence matching Qingque's bare‑foot speed.

The dragon tail stretched into a pale‑violet streak as it ran, the soft hairs at the tip fanned back by the wind; the vermilion gourd medicine jar swung wildly on the red cord at the waist, and the gilded bottle body flung out concentric golden Light Arcs in the sunlight.

"Healers can fight too! Running is the mindset of a waste! Do you hear me? Waste! Coward!"

Bai Lu's voice caught up from behind, its volume doubled, but its lethality was about equal to a newly weaned kitten hissing at you.

"I'm a waste! I admit it! A waste lives in a waste's way—that is, by running!"

Qingque shouted without turning her head.

The corridor stretched ahead, the wooden floor racing backward beneath her feet.

Qingque leapt over an empty medicine jar lying on the floor, cut past a column into the fork, intending to rush toward the previously judged "main gate direction"—

Then she saw a person.

A figure stepped out from the corner ahead.

Sunlight streamed through the window behind the person, gilding his silhouette with a golden rim.

Broad shoulders, white hair, a lazy stance, and those golden eyes still discernible against the backlight.

Jing Yuan.