Although Wen Jifei’s right hand was wrapped in bandages, his left hand was perfectly fine. Despite this, the others in the equipment hall still brought him food, fussing over him and feeding him. 

Meanwhile, Han Qingyu sat alone in a corner of the noisy, bustling mess hall, both arms numb and limp on the table as if detached from his body. He had no choice but to bury his face directly into the bowl to eat, getting oil and grains of rice stuck to his cheeks.

“If I helped feed you, how much would you pay me in energy cores? How about one core for every three meals?” A vaguely familiar voice came from behind him.

Han Qingyu turned his head to see Wan Xiujing standing there with a large white porcelain pot.

The girl had done some asking around after their last encounter and learned that this guy already had a Silver Azure Guardian Medal to his name, and would likely be...