On the vacant ground beside the large tent of the Wounded Soldier Camp, more than thirty tents had been set up. Ping Chuan responsibly wheeled Zhao Zun to inspect each one.
With the candles extinguished, the light inside the tents was dim, and the wounded soldiers all had their eyes closed, making it difficult to discern their facial expressions. Yet, it was clear that each soldier had two bottles of bright liquid hanging on their hands and was wrapped in white bandages.
Each tent had a young soldier on patrol, immediately changing the liquid as instructed by Han Lei when it ran out.
Each tent housed four wounded soldiers; with over thirty tents, there were more than a hundred wounded.
As Zhao Zun made his rounds, although he did not yet know the final outcome, he couldn't help but be impressed by Han Lei's work, which had taken just half a day and a night.
"Cough! Cough! Cough..." A weak coughing sound rang out.
Could someone have woken up?
Zhao Zun's gaze, sharp as a sword, immediately locked onto a wounded soldier in the corner.
"Quick! Over there," Zhao Zun commanded, pointing in that direction.
Ping Chuan hurriedly wheeled Zhao Zun to the side of the wounded soldier's cot, and Zhao Zun leaned down, observing carefully.
In the dimness, the soldier struggled slightly, perhaps from lying in an uncomfortable position.
"Lie down properly, lie down. Where do you feel uncomfortable?"
Zhao Zun, unable to contain his excitement, reached out his hand and gently patted the soldier's shoulder for comfort.
"Miss Han is truly a divine healer!" Ping Chuan couldn't help but exclaim.
The wounded soldier, feeling someone beside him, opened his heavy eyelids and had to focus for a while before he saw the face up close, his lips trembling.
"Is it... the Marshal?"
The soldier's voice was hoarse, his chest heaving violently with excitement.
He was sure he was as good as dead. Why was he seeing the Marshal? Could the Marshal have perished too, and he was once again a soldier under him in the afterlife?
"You... truly have awakened?" Zhao Zun stayed focused on the soldier while fervently instructing Ping Chuan, "Quick, quick, quick, summon all the medics."
"Yes!"
The young soldier in charge of the tent responded and left.
Soon, a disorderly sound of footsteps came from outside the tent.
"Let old me take a look, let old me take a look." It was Mr. He's voice.
"Don't push!"
"Hey! You're stepping on me."
"#*&$%..."
"Shh! Keep it down, the patient is still resting!" Ping Chuan stepped outside quickly, glaring at them.
A dozen medics shrank their necks, quickly quieting down and tiptoeing into the tent.
Inside, Zhao Zun also turned back to glare at them, clearly implying, don't you know any better given your age?
Zhao Zun was usually quite authoritative, and the other medics were as silent as cicadas in winter, except for the thick-skinned veteran Mr. He.
"Hehe, Marshal, I heard someone has already woken up?" Mr. He approached with his face full of wrinkles.
"Mr. He, quickly have a look!" Zhao Zun rolled his eyes at him helplessly but couldn't bear to scold him.
After all, Mr. He had worked under his father all his life and had watched him grow up. Aside from loving to drink, having a bad temper, and being a bit overbearing, he had no real faults.
Ping Chuan gently moved the wheelchair aside, and Mr. He squeezed his way in.
The wounded soldier turned his head to look at Mr. He, his gaze unfocused, swallowing hard, his lips cracked and peeling.
"Quick, give him some water, and get some rice soup too."
Saying this, Mr. He grabbed the soldier's arm and took his pulse.
A crowd gathered in a circle behind Mr. He, holding their breath, afraid that the slightest distraction might affect Mr. He's pulse-taking.
Mr. He's heart raced, his frost-covered brows alternating between furrowing and relaxing.
It was nearly half a cup of tea before Mr. He took a deep breath and withdrew his hand.
"Incredible, absolutely incredible. Never seen or heard of anything like it!"
Mr. He's words revealed everything, but the other medics, eager to see for themselves, took turns stepping forward to check as well.
Every medic who finished checking the pulse was filled with shock.
No, it should be said they were astonished! They were all awed by that little girl's divine medical skills.
No one understood the condition of the wounded soldiers better than they did. Every day, hundreds or even thousands of wounded soldiers came from the relentless battles, yet there were only a dozen medics.
The battle had dragged on for over ten days, with more and more wounded. Some were indeed beyond hope, but most were holding on by drinking hemostatic herbal soup, waiting for treatment.
Due to the prolonged delay, some wounds became festering and itchy, some oozing, some even turning green and growing fuzz.
Whenever these terrible conditions appeared, they were followed by fever, leading to persistent high fever and eventually coma.
These soldiers were abandoned when they reached the point where medicine couldn't be administered, even a stick couldn't rouse them, and they seemed lifeless. They really couldn't do anything more.
Yet from yesterday afternoon to now, just eight or nine hours, the soldier on the brink of death not only miraculously awakened but also had a gradually stronger and steadier pulse.
How could they not be astonished?
...…I am the lazy line breaker...…
In the afternoon, snow began to drift outside.
The north wind was sharp as a blade, the sky gray and oppressive.
Perhaps with matters unresolved weighing on her mind, Han Lei suddenly awoke from a deep, dreamless sleep.
Han Lei felt warmth all around her, a hazy light before her eyes, soon focusing on a familiar figure.
Zhao Zun!
The Prince, with a hint of military authority and aloofness, stood over her bedside.
His presence was elegant and dashing, dressed in casual attire like a gentleman from a drama, yet possessing a sharpness.
His gaze was sharp as an eagle's, yet brushed over her face with the gentleness of spring water, as if wanting to see right through her.
Zhao Zun's eyes roamed Han Lei repeatedly, like a scientist studying a gorilla's behavior, both filled with curious focus and a barely noticeable fondness.
Why was he looking at her like that?
Was her sleeping posture so poor?
Alarmed, Han Lei quickly raised her sleeve to wipe the corner of her mouth, fearing she had drooled in her sleep.
Those deep eyes, which she hadn't taken time to notice since crossing over, now seemed to hold only her.
A trace of panic flickered in Han Lei's eyes, she bit her lip and then looked directly into Zhao Zun's gaze.
Their eyes sparked silently in the air, as if speaking thousands of words without a sound.
Zhao Zun felt an indescribable thrill in his heart; this girl's eyes were clear and firm, drawing him to want to get closer, to understand every part of her.
This girl was beautiful and strong, appearing so coincidentally. Although he had carefully observed and analyzed her every move over the past two days, he couldn't help but wonder whether she was a friend or foe, what her purpose in coming here was?
Suddenly, Zhao Zun laughed, his smile filled with warmth and relief.
As if at that moment, he let go of all defenses and suspicions, simply wanting to share this rare peacefulness with her.
And in Zhao Zun's smile, Han Lei found a momentary sense of peace. She took a deep breath and spoke softly.
"Why are you looking at me like that? Is there a problem with the soldier?"
After saying this, Han Lei lifted the blanket, intending to get up and check, but was held down by Zhao Zun.
"The soldier is recovering, and the other doctors are attending to him. Rest without worry. Once rested, get up and have something to eat. Then, when you get a chance, let me know..."
Zhao Zun paused, his smile deepening as he leaned in to whisper in Han Lei's ear.
"...who exactly you are?"