Chapter 37
On the evening of the second day, the main camp's canvas tents billowed slightly in the wind, and a sheepskin map was spread out on the table, the passes outlined in vermilion glowing dark red in the candlelight.
Just as General Sheng Chi drew a red circle next to the "right wing position" with his wolf-hair brush, the tent flap was lifted, and Gu Linzhao and Su Zhelan walked in, their boots stained with mud, leaving dark marks on the blue bricks.
"General." As Gu Linzhao cupped his hands, the sleeves of his black military uniform swept across the table, carrying a scent of herbs. He stepped aside, revealing Su Zhelan behind him—the young man, dressed in shorts, his hair tied tightly, his fingertips still stained with some unwashed medicine, stood in the center of the military tent, his figure even more upright than the flagpole outside.
Sheng Chi put down the wolf-hair brush and his gaze fell on Su Zhelan.
He remembered the boy; when Su Yan carried him back from the mass grave half a year ago, he was barely alive, and the scar on the back of his neck was terrifyingly grotesque.
Looking at him now, his features are thin yet sharp, especially his eyes, which shine like a quenched knife when he looks at the list of wounded soldiers on the table.
"Is this Su Zhelan?" Sheng Chi's voice was as deep as the frozen earth outside the tent, and he tapped his knuckles on the table. "Mr. Su Yan often says that you are quick and efficient. You were the one who treated those wounded soldiers in the pharmacy the other day?"
Su Zhelan's Adam's apple bobbed, and he was about to respond when Gu Linzhao spoke first: "General, you may not know this, but Zhelan's medical skills far surpass those of ordinary medical apprentices. The other day, when he treated the wound from the barbed arrow, he pulled out the arrow and stopped the bleeding in three breaths. His technique was even more steady than that of the veteran medical officers in the army. When setting bones, he was very accurate in recognizing the acupoints. Even Su Yan praised him for 'surpassing his master'."
He paused, his gaze falling on Su Zhelan's tightly clenched fist, and added, "He said he wanted to go to the front lines as a military doctor. The right wing is short of people, so he could come in handy."
The tent fell silent, with only the flickering candlelight casting swaying shadows on the map.
Sheng Chi looked at Su Zhelan and suddenly remembered the secret report that Gu Linzhao had given him half a year ago: "Su Zhelan seems to be involved with a cult, but judging from her actions, she has no intention of harming anyone, and her medical skills can help the army."
At the time, it was just a temporary measure, but no one expected that this young man would make a name for himself in the pharmacy.
"The right flank has suffered many arrow wounds, and the Gu poison also flares up from time to time." Sheng Chi's fingertip touched the "Black Wind Pass" on the map, marked in ink as a "cult activity zone." "Aren't you afraid?"
Su Zhelan looked up and met Sheng Chi's sharp gaze. He remembered Xiao Qiyun's obsessive behavior on top of him last night, and Sheng Xuan's burning words, "I like you," with red eyes. His throat tightened, but he straightened his back even more.
"I'm not afraid. I've seen much more dangerous cases when I was a traveling doctor. I also know a little about Gu poison. Mr. Su Yan taught me how to cure it."
His voice wasn't loud, but it carried a kind of tenacity, like the mugwort plant in the pharmacy that had taken root in the smell of blood.
Gu Linzhao added from the side: "Su Zhelan is extremely skilled at treating wounds caused by Gu poison. The other day, when that captain's intestines were perforated and his stomach was rotten, Su Yan even praised him when he stitched it up in layers. With him on the right wing, at least 30% of our brothers will be spared."
Sheng Chi's gaze shifted from the map to Su Zhelan's fingertips, which were stained with medicine. Those hands could wield a knife to save lives; in this war-torn borderland, such hands were more precious than any weapon.
Sheng Chi suddenly chuckled softly, the sound echoing in the tent and startling the candlelight.
He picked up the military token on the table. The bronze token was engraved with the words "Zhenbei" and gleamed coldly in the firelight. "The medical tent on the right flank is short-staffed. When you go, take this with you."
He pushed the token in front of Su Zhelan, its sharp edges scraping against the table with a soft thud. "The old doctors in the tent have all been through many battles. You are young, so they may not respect you, but as long as you can pull someone back from the brink of death, everyone will have to give you some respect."
The moment Su Zhelan's fingertips touched the token, he recoiled as if burned. He looked at Sheng Chi, a hint of helplessness flashing in his eyes, but it was quickly replaced by determination: "General, rest assured, I will not fail in my mission."
"Good boy." Sheng Chi's gaze softened, sweeping over the half-inch of collar exposed on Su Zhelan's nape, where a faint scar that hadn't faded was still visible.
"The remnants of the cult are roaming around Black Wind Pass. Their poisonous venom is vicious, so be careful when treating your wounds. Carry the 'Regenerating Ointment' that Su Yan gave you; it's the most effective treatment for ulcers caused by the cult."
Gu Linzhao added from the side, "I have already had a medicine box prepared. In addition to the commonly used wound medicine, I have also added some realgar and atractylodes to counteract the poison. They were all prepared by Ayan overnight."
He looked at Su Zhelan, his eyes carrying a subtle hint of advice, "When you get there, remember to fumigate your tent with mugwort every day at dawn to ward off snakes and insects, and also to ward off... unclean things."
Su Zhelan nodded in agreement, and finally grasped the token in her fingertips. The coolness of the bronze surface seeped into her palm, which strangely calmed the turmoil in her heart.
He thought of the wounded soldiers waiting for treatment in the pharmacy and suddenly felt that the weight of this token was more reassuring than any entanglement.
Sheng Chi stood up, the sheepskin map rolled into a tube. "We'll set off at dawn tomorrow. Gu Linzhao will send his personal guards to escort you there. Once you arrive at the right wing, go directly to the centurion to arrange accommodations for you."
He walked to the tent flap, lifted a corner, and a cold wind blew in, ruffling the stray hairs at Su Zhelan's temples. "Go on, get ready. The wounded soldiers in the tent are waiting for you to change their dressings."
Su Zhelan gripped the token tightly, bowed deeply to Sheng Chi and Gu Linzhao, and as he turned, the hem of his short gray robe brushed against the tassels of the tent flap, stirring up a gust of wind. The sunlight outside the tent fell on his back, casting a long shadow, like a blade of grass trying to take root in the sandstorm.
Gu Linzhao watched his retreating figure and suddenly whispered to Sheng Chi, "This child has something on his mind. Going to the front line might be a good thing for him."
Sheng Chi didn't turn around; his gaze was fixed on the direction of Black Wind Pass, where a wisp of smoke had just risen, leaving a gray trail across the sky.
“You’re right.” Sheng Chi finally turned his head, his gaze falling on Gu Linzhao. The wind lifted a corner of his cloak, revealing the wear and tear on his armor.
"The army has been lacking good doctors for a long time, especially the right wing. Last month, two of the three medical officers fell ill; one was poisoned by a Gu poison, and the other was injured in the hand by a stray arrow."
He paused, tapped the tent pole with his knuckles, and said in a deep voice like the snow pressing down on the tent roof, “Thank you for bringing him. This child has a spirit in his eyes, a kind of spirit that can be rooted in his blood, much better than those who can only tremble while holding medical books.”
As Gu Linzhao cupped his hands in greeting, bits of medicinal herbs stuck to the cuffs of his dark-colored outfit fell in a flurry: "It's good that the general trusts me. Although Zhelan is a traveling doctor, she is meticulous and understands the value of human life better than anyone else."
The candlelight inside the tent reflected the frost on his temples. After a long while, he let out a soft hum from his nose, carrying a hint of barely perceptible relief: "With more people helping, at least the brothers will have a better chance of survival."
The wind slipped in through the gaps in the tent flaps, rustling the list of wounded soldiers on the table, the pages seeming to echo this silent acknowledgment.
As the morning light streamed through the pharmacy window, Su Yan slammed the pestle into the mortar, sparks flying. "You deliver it yourself! The guards are too rough; what if they get hurt on the way, or forget to prepare the antidote for Zhe Lan?"
Gu Linzhao was squatting on the ground sorting mugwort when he heard this. He straightened up helplessly, the cuffs of his black outfit stained with mugwort dust: "Didn't we agree to send personal guards? They've all been through thick and thin with me, they're very reliable."
"Safe my foot!" Su Yan glared at him, grabbed a handful of realgar powder and stuffed it into the medicine box, the porcelain bottle clattering loudly. "Can Zhelan's body withstand the jolting of the guards riding horses? Besides, the Black Wind Pass area is very strange. What if we encounter cult spies? The guards will only be concerned with killing people, who will care about protecting him?"
He paused, his voice turning serious, "The poison on the back of that child's neck hasn't been completely cleared yet. If it flares up on the way, besides you and me, who can keep him calm?"
Gu Linzhao looked at his reddened eyes and suddenly smiled: "I know, I'll go and deliver it. I'll come back after he's settled and the people in the military medical tent recognize him."
Su Yan breathed a sigh of relief, but then squatted down and rearranged the Atractylodes lancea in the medicine box. As his fingertips brushed against the porcelain box of "Regenerating Tissue and Promoting Muscle Growth Ointment," he suddenly looked up at Su Zhelan and said, "When we get there, wipe the tweezers three times with strong liquor before changing the dressing each day. Don't think it's too much trouble. The cult's poison is troublesome once it gets on you, so you can't be careless in the slightest."
Su Zhelan stood aside, watching Su Yan fill the medicine box to the brim, even dividing the spare silver needles into three cloth bags. Her eyes welled up with tears: "Don't worry, sir, I'll remember everything."
"What's the use of remembering?" Su Yan snorted, but pulled a small cloth bag from his pocket and stuffed it into Su Zhelan's palm. "This is newly made calming incense. Light it if you can't sleep well at night. Don't force yourself. I can't hide your little thoughts from you—once you get to the front lines, be a good military doctor and stop trying to hide from anyone, understand?"
The last few words were spoken very softly, as if afraid of puncturing something, but they made Su Zhelan's ears turn red instantly. He gripped the cloth bag tightly, his fingertips touching the dried mugwort inside, and responded with a muffled "Mm."
Just after Chen Shi (7-9 AM), Gu Linzhao stood at the gate of the mansion, leading two sturdy old horses. Thick cotton pads were placed on the saddles, and the medicine chest was firmly tied to one side.
As Su Zhelan walked out carrying a simple bag, she bumped into Su Yan, who was chasing after her, carrying a worn sheepskin coat: "Take this! It's cold at night, don't get cold."
Gu Linzhao took the coat and smiled as he stuffed it into Su Zhelan's arms: "Take it, he was mending it until midnight last night."
Su Zhelan hugged the coat to his chest, its warmth seeping through the fabric, as if still carrying the heat of Su Yan's palm. He bowed deeply in the direction of the pharmacy, then turned and followed Gu Linzhao onto his horse.
As the horse's hooves trod across the bluestone slabs, Su Zhelan glanced back and saw Su Yan still standing under the porch, his dark medical robe gleaming in the morning light, gently tapping the pestle on the stone mortar in his hand.
The wind at the border carried sand and gravel, which lashed against the canvas of the military tents with a crackling sound.
As Gu Linzhao led his horse across the camp gate, a burly man carrying a long spear came to greet him. His iron armor gleamed coldly in the sun; he was the centurion.
“Mr. Gu Linzhao?” Centurion Li Shuyang grinned, revealing two rows of white teeth. He slammed his rifle on the ground, raising a little dust. “The general sent word a while ago that you were sending a new physician.”
His gaze swept over Su Zhelan behind Gu Linzhao, and his brows furrowed almost imperceptibly—this young man was as thin as a newly sprouted reed, clutching a bronze token in his hand, and by no means looked like someone who could withstand the strength of the military medical tent.
Gu Linzhao dismounted, the hem of his black outfit still dusty from the journey: "This is Su Zhelan, a skilled physician, especially adept at treating arrow wounds and wounds inflicted by Gu poison. The general specially sent her to assist the military medical staff."
He patted Su Zhelan on the shoulder, his tone filled with unwavering certainty, "From now on, I'll have to trouble you to take care of the brothers on the right wing."
Li Shuyang patted his chest and agreed, his voice booming like a gong: "Gu Linzhao, rest assured! As long as the general approves, I will not hesitate!"
But his gaze lingered on Su Zhelan, and while Gu Linzhao was tying up the horse, he leaned close to Su Zhelan's ear and whispered, "Kid, I'm not kidding, but this isn't the manor. Broken arms and legs are common here, and the wounds from the Gu poison can make a person unable to eat for three days. With your little body... can you really withstand it?"
Su Zhelan gripped the token in his hand, the coolness of the bronze surface seeping through his palm. When he looked up, his eyes shone like fire: "Centurion, rest assured, I'm not here to joke."
Gu Linzhao happened to turn around and heard this. The corners of his mouth curved almost imperceptibly. He pulled Li Shuyang toward the military doctor's tent and said, "Let's look at the accommodations first. The closer to the tent, the more convenient it will be if there is an emergency at night."
The small tent next to the military doctor's tent was fairly tidy, with dry grass spread on the ground and several empty medicine boxes piled in the corner.
Gu Linzhao put down Su Zhelan's luggage, reached out and touched the canvas on the top of the tent to make sure there were no gaps that let in the wind, then bent down and laid out the realgar and atractylodes in the medicine box one by one, dividing them into morning, noon and evening dosages: "Fumigate the tent at dawn every day, remember to use mugwort mixed with atractylodes, the smoke should be strong, so as to drive away the dampness in the tent."
He picked up the box of "Regenerating Ointment" and stuffed it into Su Zhelan's hand: "The worst thing for evil Gu ulcers is to delay. As soon as you see the edges of the wound turn black, apply this immediately. Don't be stingy with it." He then pointed to the bottom of the medicine box, "Your master has prepared some wound medicine for you. If you get grazed by a stray arrow, don't try to tough it out. Treat it first and then see a doctor."
As Su Zhelan watched his busy figure, the shouts of drills and the crisp sounds of weapons clashing came from outside the tent, mixed with Gu Linzhao's nagging instructions. Suddenly, she felt that this dusty military camp had a bit of warmth.
Su Zhelan's fingertips gently pressed against the back of Gu Linzhao's hand, where the thin calluses rubbed against his skin, like the friction between a mortar and pestle when grinding medicine, carrying a reassuring roughness.
“Really,” he repeated, a smile spreading across his eyes, “I’ve dealt with ten times more chaotic situations than this in a pharmacy, so you can rest assured.”
Gu Linzhao looked at the light in his eyes, a light brighter than the sun outside the tent, and finally sighed, patting the back of his hand: "Forget it, once you've made up your mind, not even eight oxen can pull you back."
He straightened up and stuffed the last packet of mugwort into the corner of the medicine box. "If you have an acute illness at night, don't try to tough it out. Call for Shuyang. He has a loud voice and can get the soldiers in the tent to lend a hand."
The wind outside the tent carried the sounds of drills in, lifting the edges of the canvas and revealing a sliver of gray-yellow sky.
As Gu Linzhao straightened his clothes, his gaze swept over the "Zhenbei" token in Su Zhelan's arms. The bronze surface gleamed coldly in the dim light. Suddenly, he said out of the blue, "If you need anything, just send a message to the General's Mansion. Ayan is stubborn, but he's thinking about you."
Su Zhelan's Adam's apple bobbed, and she was about to speak when Gu Linzhao pushed her toward the straw-covered bed: "Go and rest. We set off at dawn and have been traveling all the way. There might be wounded soldiers brought here tonight."
He tugged at the thin blanket in the corner for Su Zhelan, "This blanket is rough, it'll do for one night. I'll have Su Zhelan find you a new one tomorrow."
Footsteps echoed twice inside the tent. Gu Linzhao glanced back at the medicine box, making sure the realgar and atractylodes were placed in the most conspicuous position, before reluctantly lifting the tent flap.
"I'm in the next tent. Just call me if you need anything."
"Mm," Su Zhelan responded, watching his figure disappear behind the canvas. As the tent flap fell, it kicked up a wisp of sand that landed on her boots.
The wind was still howling outside the tent, carrying with it the distant sound of horns.
Su Zhelan sat on the floor, his fingertips tracing the token, the coolness of the bronze surface gradually warming in his palms. He recalled Gu Linzhao's sigh, and Su Yan's reddened eyes when he handed him the sheepskin coat. Suddenly, he felt that this dusty tent was more reassuring than the soft couch in Shuyu Courtyard.
As night fell, he placed the token beside his pillow and wrapped himself tightly in the rough blanket.
The sound of Gu Linzhao and Li Shuyang talking could be heard outside the tent, mixed with the footsteps of patrolling soldiers in the distance, like an off-key tune gently swaying in the night of Black Wind Pass.
Su Zhelan pulled the rough blanket up a little, the gritty fabric brushing against his neck, causing a slight itch. The token beside the pillow still had the coolness of its bronze surface. As his fingertips traced the blurred engravings on it, he suddenly remembered Sheng Xuan saying "I'll protect you" with red eyes during the day, and Xiao Qiyun saying "I'm here" when he tucked him in.
The wind whipped up sand and gravel, which lashed against the tent, making a rustling sound that sounded exactly like the tune of a cultist's bone whistle.
He closed his eyes, a bitter taste rising in his throat. Sheng Xuan's heat was like a bonfire, warm and scorching, yet capable of burning away reason; Xiao Qiyun's gentleness was like spring water, soft and clinging, yet concealing an inescapable undercurrent. They protected him, cherished him, but this protection was ultimately like a sand wall outside a tent, seemingly sturdy, yet cracking at the slightest breeze.
His fingers curled unconsciously, touching the protruding brass lock on the edge of the medicine box. Inside were his silver needles, herbs, and the skills he relied on to survive when he traveled the world.
No matter how warm the soft couch in Shuyu Courtyard was, it couldn't compare to the weight of the medicine box in his hand at this moment—Sheng Xuan and Xiao Qiyun's concern might be able to shield him from the storm for a while, but the General's Mansion's protection was only given to those who were useful.
Su Zhelan shrank deeper into the tent, wrapping himself even tighter in the rough blanket. The bugle call sounded again outside the tent, this time sounding like a reminder. He touched the scar on the back of his neck, where he hid the past he most wanted to erase, but also the lesson he should remember most: the most reliable things in this world are only the knife in one's own hand and the value that one is unwilling to let go of.
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