Zhāo Yàn had survived the Hollow Boar.
He had not, as it turned out, survived his mother.
He had cleaned the wound as best he could in the dark. He had climbed back through the window. He had arranged himself in his bed.
He had been asleep for just a bit when he heard a voice.
"Get up," Gū Gū said.
Zhāo Yàn got up.
She looked at him. At his face, which was fine. At his ears, which were fine. At his tails, which were slightly less fine but passable.
Then her eyes dropped to his side.
He had done a reasonable job with the bandaging, all things considered. He had used a strip of cloth from the bottom of his traveling pack where it was least likely to be noticed. He had tied it tightly. He had pulled his sleeping robe down over it.
The sleeping robe had shifted in the night.
The bandage was visible.
Gū Gū looked at the bandage.
Zhāo Yàn looked at the ceiling.
"That," Gū Gū said slowly, "is a bandage."
"It's a precautionary measure."
"Against what?"
