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... my medicinal herbs. Most of them were bruised, like the people they were meant to heal, and barely enough to cover the worst of our wounds. My fingers trembled slightly as I worked, but I willed them steady, ignoring the dull throb radiating from my chest. Each breath came with a faint hitch, a reminder of the punches Wei Long had delivered, but I refused to let it slow me down.

I sighed, shaking my head at the limitations, but there was no point in complaining. With gentle fingers, I cr ...

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