Sanjana busied herself with packing, preparing to travel to the outskirts with a small group of attendants. Though her family belonged to the fallen upper class, their status still carried weight. At her father’s insistence, she agreed to take people with her—an arrangement she saw as practical rather than restrictive, knowing their presence would be useful during the journey and the medical campaign.
Ishaan repeatedly urged her to rest, but thanks to Sam’s assistance, her body had fully healed. Still, she knew the clock in the Destiny Chamber was steadily counting down her days—idleness was a luxury she couldn’t afford.
While she couldn’t personally step into the First Zone, Sam could. She sent him ahead to "check the water," to assess the situation there, while she focused on the Third Zone. This medical campaign was more than just a mission—it was a strategy. By engaging directly with the people, she could understand their living conditions, health struggles, and needs while also building credibility. Influence wasn’t just about rank; her professor had always emphasized that the voices of the people carried more weight than any official title.
This was her chance to "strike two mangoes with one stone."
With everything packed, they set off for the Third Zone on a horse-drawn carriage, the outdated travel facilities a reminder of how different life was here. Along the way, Sanjana took the time to gather essential herbs—not just for emergencies, but also as a way to subtly establish her presence.
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It took them half a day to reach the outskirts. Unlike the Middle Zone, the Third Zone was greener, its vast farmlands stretching like an emerald carpet. At its heart lay the farmers’ fields, brimming with life. Lord Sun showered his kindness here, nurturing the trees heavy with fruit, fields rich with pulses, and pastures lush with greenery. The entire landscape resembled a vibrant oasis.
Everywhere she looked, life thrived in harmony. Farmers worked their fields, their hands moving with practiced ease as they sang folk songs in rhythm with the cuckoos’ calls. Children ran about, laughing, their carefree energy blending into the melody of the land. A little farther ahead, carpenters skillfully shaped wood into fine creations, while blacksmiths, drenched in sweat, struck red-hot metal with heavy hammers, sending sparks dancing into the air like fireflies. Potters molded mother earth with gentle hands, spinning clay into wonders, while women carried those earthen vessels to fetch water. Their voices rose in laughter and teasing banter, so intertwined with the rippling water that it was hard to tell whether it was the women or the water itself that was laughing.
Sanjana observed it all in quiet contemplation. The true creators of the Sun Kingdom lived here—simply, happily, in tune with the land—while the users, who basked in their labor, lived extravagantly, yet their faces hardened with calculations, unsatisfaction and competitive stress.
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After meeting with the in-charge of the Third Zone, conveying their purpose, and receiving his approval, they set up their camp. The sight of it immediately drew a crowd, curiosity and anticipation shining in the eyes of the people who gathered around.
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The gathered crowd in the third zone murmured with curiosity, their eyes filled with both hope and skepticism. It wasn’t every day that a doctor came to their forsaken corner of the world.
Sanjana stood before them, her voice steady yet warm. “This medical camp is for all of you. Your health matters. We are here to provide check-ups, medicines, and assistance for those in need.”
A ripple of gratitude passed through some of the listeners. An elderly woman, her face lined with hardship, spoke with quiet astonishment, “No one has ever cared about our health before. If we need a doctor, we must travel to the middle zone—if we can afford it. No doctor has ever come here.”
But before the sentiment could spread, a young man’s scoffing voice cut through the crowd.
“Soori,” someone whispered, already bracing for trouble.
With arms crossed and a cynical smirk, Soori tilted his head. “There’s no measurement of suffering, only the measurement of money when choosing a customer, right, doctor?” His voice carried sharpness, his words laced with bitter amusement. “Don’t live in delusions, friends. These days, even the sun shines brighter through the casements of the upper class while brushing past our withered windows.”
A sudden silence settled over the crowd. The weight of his words lingered in the air.
Unbeknownst to Soori, a certain man among them clenched his wrist so tightly that his veins stood out, his jaw tightening as if suppressing something.
Before the tension could thicken, a commanding voice intervened.
“Enough, Soori,” the leader of the third zone said firmly, stepping forward. His presence alone was enough to quiet most of the murmuring. “Don’t speak nonsense. It was the fallen great sun, Jothir Bhanu’s grace, that allowed us to take part in the government entrance exams. Look at Minister Arkan—our pride. Food and supplies are reaching us as they should. What more do you expect? Why tarnish the name of the sun publicly?”
Soori let out a short, hollow laugh. “The government exams?” he echoed, his tone dripping with irony. “Yes, they’ve shown us their ‘kindness,’ haven’t they? What a joke.” He turned to the crowd, his expression dark with resentment. “How can a child who is only now learning A, B, C, and D as the first generation compete with those raised under the wings of former ministers? I heard from a merchant in the second zone—first-zone kids have libraries, schools, universities. What do we have? Nothing.” He sneered. “But of course, the great ranked doctors rush to serve the upper zones at their beck and call. Tell me, how many of you here have ever been treated by a ranked doctor?”
Silence followed. The uncomfortable kind.
His gaze flickered toward Sanjana. “And what about you, ma’am?” His smirk deepened. “You’re probably just a newbie, aren’t you?”
Sanjana opened her mouth, but before she could respond, a sharp voice rang out.
“Watch your mouth, boy!”
It was one of Sanjana’s attendants, her face flushed with anger. “Your resentment is understandable, but don’t you dare judge everyone the same way. Our lady here may not be a ranked doctor yet, but let me tell you something—two days ago, a noble lady struggled with a difficult labor because of her oversized fetus. Even a ranked doctor was helpless, but our young lady intervened and safely delivered the baby.” She took a step closer, fire in her eyes. “You stand here crying about inequality while judging people by their rank? What an irony!”
A stunned silence followed. The crowd whispered amongst themselves, glancing at Sanjana with newfound awe. Soori, for all his sharp tongue, looked genuinely taken aback.
Sanjana felt her face warm. The situation itself wasn’t an issue—she could handle criticism. But being publicly defended like this? That made her feel… shy.
Technically, the incident was true. But the ranked doctor had been her teacher. That was the only reason she had been allowed to step in. If it had been anyone else in her position, they wouldn’t have even been permitted to stand near the noblewoman, let alone treat her. She knew the weight of ranking all too well.
Clearing her throat lightly, she composed herself. “Knowing politics is important,” she said, her voice calm but firm, “but knowing health is even more important. Form a line, come one by one, and I will assess and prescribe medicines accordingly. If anyone at home is too sick to move, give their address to my assistant—I will visit them myself.” She paused before adding, “Thank you.”
That seemed to ease the tension. The crowd, including Soori, hesitated for a moment before slowly forming a line. The skepticism hadn’t fully faded, but curiosity and necessity had won over. One by one, they began voicing their health concerns.
Sanjana let out a quiet breath, steadying herself. The real work was just beginning.
