"Thank you, Brother Bryson."
After Missy said that, her emotions had been too intense for too long. She collapsed, completely drained, into Bryson's arms.
"Missy."
Bryson quickly caught her and checked to make sure she was okay. Once he saw she wasn't badly hurt, he finally felt some relief.
He looked at Missy and let out a soft sigh. He hadn't expected her longing to return home to be so strong. Now, looking at her, he didn't know what to do. He had no clear plan left for her. All he could do was take one careful step at a time.
In the afternoon, Missy slowly opened her eyes. She looked up at the ceiling above her and realized she was back.
She remembered how she had lost control and cried earlier that day. She shut her eyes again, feeling regret in her heart.
Bryson had not only saved her but had always helped her without asking for anything in return. Yet she hadn't thanked him properly. Instead, she kept causing trouble for him.
She couldn't help but wonder if he would start to dislike her because of that.
Normally, she wasn't someone who cried a lot. She wasn't someone who would fall apart when things got hard. But today, she had cried enough.
She told herself that she wouldn't let it happen again.
After she finished her college entrance exams, her mom told her, "Missy, once you leave Mom and go out into the world, you have to learn to live well, no matter where you are."
At that time, she had hugged her mom happily and promised to stay with her forever and never leave.
Thinking of that memory made Missy smile with happiness. Back then, she thought her mom was just worried about her going off to college. Now she realized her mom had probably known something more.
Maybe her mom had already been worried that Missy wouldn't be able to stay by her side for long.
But Missy never expected to be separated like this.
Still, as long as she was alive, she believed she could find a way back. She would figure it out.
"Mom, wait for me," she said in her heart.
At that moment, the door slowly opened.
"Missy, you're awake."
Bryson pushed the door open with one hand. In the other hand, he held a tray with gauze and ointment neatly arranged on it.
When he saw her awake, a happy smile appeared on his face.
"Brother Bryson."
Seeing him made Missy feel warm inside. She now knew he didn't hate her.
Still, guilt filled her heart. She lowered her head and quietly said sorry again.
"Brother Bryson, I'm really sorry for causing you trouble."
She kept her head down, looking like she was ready to accept whatever scolding came next.
Bryson set the tray on the small table beside the bed. Then he pulled over a stool and sat down next to her.
Seeing Missy hang her head like a child who had done something wrong, Bryson gave a small laugh.
"Missy knows she did something wrong. She shouldn't treat herself like that again."
Bryson gently held Missy's hand, carefully avoiding her fingers.
"Look at these beautiful hands. What have they become... they look like swollen carrots."
Missy couldn't help but giggle at Bryson's comment, a hint of surprise flashing across her smile.
She looked down at her fingers. The skin was torn, revealing red, raw flesh, and her fingers were so swollen that they no longer looked like fingers.
She hadn't realized it was this bad.
But what surprised her even more was that she didn't feel any pain.
Could it be that being in this place had given her some kind of special power that made her immune to pain?
Excitedly, she wiggled her fingers, her eyes full of curiosity.
Looking at Bryson, she said, "Bryson, this is so strange. I can't feel any pain at all."
Bryson smiled helplessly and grabbed her hand to stop her from moving.
"Don't move, Missy. You just had some numbing medicine."
Actually, when Bryson carried Missy back, he had already done some simple treatment on her fingers.
He was afraid that she might be afraid of pain, so he used the best anesthetic he had.
But since there was no good medicine for the wounds, he had rushed to the mountain to gather herbs and just finished making a healing ointment.
Missy felt a little embarrassed for her earlier wild thoughts.
She blamed it on reading too many fantasy novels.
Watching Bryson picking up the ointment and getting ready to apply it with a flat bamboo stick, she quickly said, "Bryson, let me do it myself!"
Missy felt that since her hand didn't hurt and she was awake and alert, she shouldn't trouble Bryson with this.
But Bryson held her hand tightly, not letting her move.
He carefully applied the ointment to her hand.
While applying the ointment, Bryson began to explain gently.
"Missy, the most urgent issue now is that you don't have an identity tag…"
With Bryson's patient explanation, Missy slowly understood that this identity tag in Qi Country worked like a personal ID for women.
Here, every woman must wear one.
If someone found out she didn't have one and reported her to the county office, she could be treated as a criminal slave.
If that happened, the government might sell her off to an unknown place, and her life would be full of suffering.
Missy was shocked to realize how serious it was not to have an identity tag.
She began to panic a little because she didn't belong to this world at all.
She nervously asked, "Bryson, can I get an identity tag?"
She looked anxiously at him.
Bryson smiled to calm her down. This was exactly what he had hoped she would ask.
"Missy, don't worry about it. I have a way to help you."
He comforted her while carefully wrapping her hand with white cloth.
In the end, Missy agreed to Bryson's suggestion to go apply for the identity tag that very day.
Bryson then told her that he had a friend in the county office who worked as a household registration clerk.
This was an important job in the county government, in charge of managing all household records, measuring land, collecting taxes, and tracking population data.
At that moment, Missy still had no idea what getting an identity tag would truly mean for her.
…