"Young Marshal, be careful--!" The roar of the guards suddenly sounded in my ears.

Xie Yun looked back in a trance, and saw a long knife gleaming with cold light coming towards him. He instinctively dodged sideways, but it was still a moment too late.

The blade ruthlessly scraped across his right abdomen, instantly leaving a deep bloody wound, and the severe pain instantly spread throughout his body like a raging fire. He groaned, knelt on one knee, holding the wound, blood gushed out from between his fingers, creating shocking scarlet holes on the snow.

Seeing this, the enemy soldier grinned and raised his long knife, slashing down fiercely again. Endless anger suddenly surged in Xie Yun's eyes. He roared, jumped up suddenly, and used all his strength to pierce the opponent's throat with a knife. The hot blood spurted on his face like a fountain. He staggered back two steps, and the hand covering the wound was completely soaked with blood, dripping onto the snow.

"Young Marshal!" The guards rushed up to support his shaking body. Xie Yun pushed away the supporting hand, tore off his cloak and tied up his wound, his bloodstained hair was clearly visible in the wind. He picked up the long sword with a rolled blade and pointed it at the enemy formation, his voice hoarse and not like his own: "Keep going... Charge..."

After the battle, the tent was filled with a strong smell of blood. The military doctor carefully cut open Xie Yun's shirt that was tightly stained with blood. The cloth seemed to be fused with the skin and flesh. Every movement would tear the wound, causing a little pain. When the shirt was finally cut open, revealing the torn wound, the military doctor couldn't help but gasp.

"If the knife wound was half an inch deeper, it would have injured the liver." The military doctor's voice was low and serious.

The air in the tent seemed to freeze at these words, and everyone's expressions became more tense.

The silver needle pierced through the flesh, and Xie Yun bit his lips and teeth tightly without making a sound. After the stitches were completed, the military doctor sighed softly, exchanged glances with the people around him, and everyone withdrew tacitly. As the footsteps gradually faded away, only Xie Yun was left in the tent, and it fell into a dead silence.

Xie Yun leaned weakly on the couch, his cracked lips oozing blood, making his face look even paler. His hair soaked in cold sweat stuck to his brow bone, and every breath he took caused the hideous wound on his right abdomen to tug.

Trembling, he took out the bloodstained letter from his secret pocket and slowly unfolded it. His father's handwriting, which was so strong that it could be seen through the back of the paper, came into his sight: "Yumin, I know that my time is coming, and I hope my son will take the great cause as his priority..."

The memories came to an abrupt end.

Zheng Wanqing burst into tears early in the morning, tears pouring out like a flood, blurring her vision. Her fingertips trembled as she gently stroked his face, her voice filled with endless heartache and pity: "Xie Yun..."

Xie Yun held her hand, a forced smile appeared on the corner of his lips. His thumb wiped the tears from her chin, and he tried to ease the heavy atmosphere with a joking tone: "Yu Min, who pestered me all night last night...how come you forgot about it as soon as the sun rose."

Zheng Wanqing didn't care about his teasing at the moment. She leaned over and gently placed her lips on the hideous scar on his abdomen. Warm tears slowly slid down the old wound, as if to seep into his skin and wash away the blood and pain of the past.

Zheng Wanqing's eyes sparkled with tears. She leaned lightly on Xie Yun's shoulder and called him affectionately with a sobbing voice: "Yumin..."

Xie Yun hugged her tightly and held her in his arms. He kissed her forehead and said softly, "It's all over. It's just that I didn't get to see my mother for the last time, which is my biggest regret in this life."