Su Wan peeked out from behind her tree, her eyes wide.

Ji’an surveyed the scene. She looked at the cowardly guards, then at the injured, grumpy Princess.

’If I leave her with these idiots, she’s going to get eaten by a badger in ten minutes,’ Ji’an sighed internally. ’She’s annoying, but she’s just a spoiled kid. I can’t let her die. Plus, having a Royal Princess owe me a life debt is good insurance.’

Ji’an walked over and crouched down in front of Ling’er.

Ling’er flinched, shrinking back. "Wh-what do you want? I didn’t ask for your help! My guards were just... tactically repositioning!"

"Right. Tactically repositioning into the next zip code," Ji’an deadpanned.

Without asking for permission, Ji’an reached out and gently took hold of the Princess’s injured leg.

"Don’t touch me!" Ling’er swatted at her hands, her cheeks flushing.

"Hold still, Your Highness, or I’ll let Tang Bo set the bone. And Tang Bo cries when he cuts onions," Ji’an said firmly, her tone leaving no room for argument.

Ling’er stopped struggling, biting her lip as Ji’an expertly rolled up the hem of the silk dress to inspect the ankle.

It was swollen to the size of an apple and rapidly turning a nasty shade of purple.

"Dislocated and severely sprained," Ji’an diagnosed. "No broken bones, luckily."

She reached into her spatial bag, pulling out some of the Weeping Mandrake leaves she had harvested earlier, along with a mortar and pestle.

Moving with the neat, organized efficiency of a master chef prepping a station, she crushed the leaves, added a drop of fresh water, and created a cool, glowing green poultice.

The girls watching, Liu Liu, Su Wan, and even Ling’er herself, were suddenly struck by how nice Ji’an’s hands looked.

They were strong, calloused from work, but her fingers were long and elegant, moving with a hypnotic, gentle precision.

"This is going to sting for a second, and then it’s going to feel very cold," Ji’an warned, keeping her eyes focused on the ankle.

She applied the poultice. Ling’er hissed, her nails digging into the dirt, but the intense pain was almost immediately replaced by a soothing, numbing chill that radiated through her leg.

Ji’an pulled a roll of clean, white linen from her bag and wrapped the ankle tightly, securing it with a neat, professional knot.

"There," Ji’an said, rocking back on her heels. "That will keep the swelling down. But you can’t walk on it for at least two days."

Ling’er stared at her neatly bandaged ankle, then looked up at Ji’an’s face. The gray-robed cook had a smudge of dirt on her cheek, but her dark eyes were completely clear of mockery or malice.

For the first time in her life, someone was taking care of her not because of her title, but simply because she was hurt.

A strange, unfamiliar fluttering sensation erupted in Ling’er’s chest. Her face turned bright red.

"I... I can walk," Ling’er mumbled stubbornly, trying to stand up to save face.

She put weight on the foot and immediately pitched forward with a cry of pain.

Ji’an caught her mid-fall.

With a seamless, fluid motion that required zero effort on Ji’an’s part, she swept one arm under the Princess’s knees and the other around her back, lifting her off the ground entirely.

A perfect, textbook Princess Carry.

"Ah!" Ling’er gasped, her arms instinctively wrapping around Ji’an’s neck to steady herself.

Her face was now inches from Ji’an’s, and she could smell that intoxicating scent of pine, spices, and clean soap.

"I said you can’t walk, you stubborn brat," Ji’an scolded mildly, looking down at her. "Do you want to permanently cripple yourself? Because I don’t know how to cook a cure for a limp."

From the sidelines, Liu Liu let out a soft, high-pitched squeal, clutching her cheeks. Even Su Wan, the calculating White Lotus, felt her heart skip a beat.

The image of the handsome, capable youth effortlessly sweeping the injured girl into his arms while gently scolding her was straight out of a romance novel.

"Put me down!" Ling’er protested weakly, though her grip around Ji’an’s neck tightened instead of loosening. Her entire face was the color of a boiled lobster. "My guards will carry me!"

Ji’an glanced at the Class 6 guards, who were currently trying to avoid eye contact.

"Your guards would probably drop you the second they hear a squirrel sneeze," Ji’an stated. She shifted Ling’er’s weight slightly. "Congratulations, Class 6. You have officially been absorbed into the Class 9 Survival Squad. Try to keep up."

The newly formed mega-squad moved through the forest.

Carrying the Princess in her arms was impractical for foraging, so after they found a safe path, Ji’an unceremoniously deposited Ling’er onto her back for a piggyback ride.

"Don’t pull my hair," Ji’an warned as they walked. "And if you drool on my collar, I’m charging you for dry cleaning."

"I do not drool!" Ling’er huffed, resting her chin on Ji’an’s shoulder.

Despite her grumpy tone, she felt incredibly secure. Ji’an’s back was warm and broad, thanks to the illusion locket, and her steps were perfectly steady, not jarring the injured ankle at all.

"Boss," Tang Bo whispered, jogging up beside them. "Are we really taking them with us? They tried to rob us!"

"Keep your friends close, Tang Bo, and the people who attract monster aggro closer," Ji’an replied quietly. "With her around, the beasts will aim for the red dress. It’s a basic camouflage strategy."

Ling’er smacked Ji’an on the back of the head. "I heard that!"

"Good, then you know your role," Ji’an laughed.

As they walked, Ji’an didn’t stop her culinary mission. Whenever she spotted an ingredient, she would direct the group.

"Su Wan," Ji’an called out smoothly, turning her head to look at the White Lotus who was trailing behind. "Be a dear and grab those blue mushrooms by the oak root? Be careful not to bruise the caps. You have such delicate hands; I trust you to do it right."