"Thank you so much, young hero!" The middle-aged man thanked him gratefully, thinking that the young man had left without helping him.
"Get your wound bandaged and leave quickly. This is not a place for you to stay."
Mo Lan patted the dust off her hands, turned her head to look at the pacing horse and the large swords scattered to the side, sighed silently, and then turned around to walk over to the dead men in black and began to search them.
Several unassuming money pouches contained a few loose pieces of silver. Mo Lan knew that the currency at this time, besides round coins, was silver ingots. There was no fixed quantity; when buying or selling things, they needed to be weighed.
"Young hero, please wait!"
"Is something the matter?" Mo Lan looked at him with a puzzled expression.
"Cough cough... Thank you for saving my life, young hero. I am penniless and have no way to repay you. I will give you this horse and knife as a token of my gratitude."
After the middle-aged man finished speaking, he turned his head and glanced at the horse pacing and grazing and the large knife scattered on the ground, a trace of lingering affection flashing in his eyes.
"I have no interest in a horse that has already pledged allegiance to me. As for your knife, without a horse, a knife is meaningless." Mo Lan said, and left gracefully.
Watching the boy's departing figure, the middle-aged man's smile faded, and his expression turned deep and somber.
Having a horse for transportation certainly saves a lot of effort. It's truly ironic that he would end up in such a sorry state.
Seeing the few herbs scattered on the ground, he immediately chewed them up and applied them to his wound as Mo Lan had instructed. He then tore off a piece of his robe to bandage the wound. After a while, he slowly stood up and shakily picked up the broadsword.
"Black General, crouch down."
With his current injuries, he couldn't possibly mount a horse, but luckily his Black General is intelligent.
But before he could mount his horse, he heard the sound of hooves approaching from afar, and in the blink of an eye, they were right in front of him.
The leader was a tall and imposing man, whose most distinctive feature was his blue-faced fox mask. Apart from his smooth chin and cold, indifferent eyes, nothing else could be seen.
When he spotted the injured middle-aged man, he immediately dismounted, his long black hair billowing in the wind.
"Father, I am late!"
The middle-aged man's tense emotions finally relaxed the moment he saw his son. "It's good that Su'er is here. I'm fine!"
Qin Su looked at the large patch of crimson blood on her father's side, a flash of rage crossing her eyes. She pulled out some wound medicine from her pocket.
"Physician, quickly bandage Father's wound!"
"promise,"
The physician, carrying his medicine chest, hurried over. Seeing the master's rough bandaging method, he said softly, "My lord, shall I re-bandage you?"
"Um,"
The middle-aged man nodded, and the accompanying guards immediately stepped forward to help, cleaning up the dregs of the medicine before applying a fine wound ointment and bandaging it with a white cloth strip.
The physician wiped the sweat from his brow, and a look of delight flashed in his eyes as he saw the fresh herbs scattered to the side.
"Fortunately, the Duke had some knowledge of pharmacology, and the wound was treated in time, without infection or redness."
"These herbs you mentioned were left behind by a young hero."
As the middle-aged man spoke, a look of annoyance flashed across his face. How could he have forgotten to ask the other person's name?
"What's wrong with Father?"
Qin Su had just finished examining the bodies of the men in black; all of them had been killed with a single sword strike to the throat. He did not recall his father having such outstanding assassins by his side!
While wondering about this, I noticed my father's furrowed brows.
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