Lin Yu set down the bucket, pushed aside the door curtain, and returned to the bedside of the last unrecovered casualty.
“What’s wrong? Are you feeling unwell anywhere?” Lin Yu inquired gently, reaching out to check their temperature.
“It hurts so much, my leg hurts terribly…”
Following the direction of their finger, Lin Yu looked down to where their left leg should have been, now a vacant space.
She recalled how, just days prior, they had been carried onto the operating table as the final casualty requiring amputation.
Lin Yu herself had performed the amputation, working as swiftly as possible to spare them any further unnecessary suffering.
The bandaged stump showed no signs of bleeding, suggesting a smooth recovery was underway; otherwise, Lin Yu and Nangong would not have left them unattended to go bathe.
“It’s alright, it’s alright. Your left leg has been amputated; it shouldn’t hurt anymore.” Leaning down, she gently clasped the hand that was frantically clawing at the bedsheet, offering soft words of comfort.
The man’s face was contorted in agony, clearly enduring inhuman torment. “It still hurts so much! It feels like a saw is cutting through—”
She blinked, a hypothesis forming in her mind regarding the current situation.
‘Could it be phantom limb pain (TL Note: A medical condition where a patient feels pain in a limb that has been amputated, despite the limb no longer being present.)?’
This condition frequently afflicted amputees, causing patients to feel as though their severed limb still existed, experiencing waves of excruciating pain.
Yet, with the limb gone, there was no way to alleviate the suffering through conventional means like cold compresses or warm soaks.
The medic’s manual she had previously read documented this condition, listing opioid injections as the countermeasure.
As for casualties who were not authorized to receive such medication… they simply had to endure it, for a mere bout of pain, however intense, would not prove fatal.
“…Try to bear with it, perhaps think of something pleasant? In a couple of days, you’ll be able to go home; you won’t have to remain in this place any longer.”
A disability of their severity met the criteria for a “glorious” discharge.
Barring any unforeseen circumstances, the army would grant them a substantial慰问金 (TL Note: A monetary compensation or condolence payment given to soldiers for injuries or retirement.), and within two days, they would return to the rear, to their homeland of Diacla, aboard the supply train.
They would no longer have to endure the harsh conditions of the trenches, nor the ever-present threat of death.
Provided nothing went awry.
Yet, what exactly might go wrong, what future truly awaited this casualty—how could Lin Yu dare to predict?
Even she herself had been conscripted as a boy; could an army of this caliber truly disburse full compensation? Could they properly arrange for the resettlement of discharged, injured soldiers?
Evidently, it was unlikely.
Perhaps, already aware of their grim fate, they did not dwell on pleasant thoughts as Lin Yu had suggested, but instead cautiously put forth a request.
“Doctor… could you, could you sing me a song…?”
“…The correct term is medic, you know. As for singing, I can.” Lin Yu pulled a stool to the casualty’s bedside and sat down. “Though I don’t know many songs, and they might not be very pleasant to listen to.”
Searching through her memories for songs, Lin Yu was dismayed to discover that in this life, she possessed no musical experience whatsoever.
The only thing remotely resembling music was the mountain songs her father loudly sang while working the fields, which were hardly suitable for comforting a wounded soul.
Nevertheless, she still had her previous life, where she had been a genuine music enthusiast.
Even if rock and pop music would be far too ahead of their time in this era, she remembered a considerable number of folk songs and military anthems, spanning no less than three languages.
‘What song should I sing?’
‘In this situation, something cheerful, not too melancholic… Yes, this one will do.’
“Then I’ll begin. Please don’t mind if my singing isn’t very good, *cough, cough*.”
Clearing her throat, she opened her mouth for the first time to truly sing those distant melodies a cappella.
****
“Lin Yu, if you ask me, they probably don’t understand what you’re singing.”
Having finished an entire song from her previous life, Nangong suddenly appeared in the tent.
It wasn’t truly a sudden appearance, but rather that Lin Yu had been so engrossed in her singing that she hadn’t noticed.
“Whether they understand or not is irrelevant; didn’t we also not understand our mothers’ lullabies when we were children?” Lin Yu murmured in response, looking up to check on the casualty. “When you don’t understand the lyrics, you can truly focus your attention on the song itself, wouldn’t you agree, Nangong?”
Lin Yu had uttered a small lie in that statement; her mother had never sung lullabies to her as a child.
Yet, such details were secondary; what truly mattered was that the casualty had fallen into a peaceful sleep.
After checking their pulse to ensure they hadn’t merely passed away peacefully, she rose from the chair and turned to face Nangong, who had returned to the tent.
“By the way, who is this Su San you were singing about?”
“That’s the name of the song… But really, shouldn’t *I* be asking *you*? You were only delivering a note, so what took you so long? Just now, another casualty came to the tent, and thankfully, their injuries weren’t severe, so I treated them myself.”
Lin Yu’s tone carried a hint of displeasure regarding Nangong’s prolonged absence.
Had Nangong been in the tent, that troublesome fellow wouldn’t have required Lin Yu’s medical attention, nor would this casualty have needed her to sing them to sleep.
Nangong possessed a knack for inducing rapid sleep.
Casualties wracked with pain and unable to rest would often implore her for a “knife hand” – an exaggerated way of saying Nangong could grant anyone the most peaceful slumber at any moment, though Lin Yu had only witnessed her use the technique once.
“No sooner had I stepped in and exchanged a few words with them than the Colonel returned. So, I took the opportunity to introduce your little plan to him right there and then.”
Nangong moved to the other side of the tent, transferring the used surgical instruments to the sterilization area. “Fortunately, we left early, so we didn’t run straight into him when he returned ahead of schedule.”
“So, what did he—”
“He’s considering it. We might not get an answer for another two days.”
“Oh…”
A flicker of disappointment crossed Lin Yu’s face.
Looking up again to see Nangong beginning to tidy the tools, Lin Yu suddenly remembered the basin of half-washed clothes outside.
She prepared to return to finish washing and then hang them to dry.
“Don’t bother,” Nangong called out, stopping Lin Yu just as she was about to push aside the curtain. “Your clothes were already hung to dry while you were absorbed in your singing… And look.”
From behind her, she produced a box. “A gift the Colonel brought for you from the city.”
The iron box was adorned with patterns and designs, and embossed lettering rose from its lid, making it appear both exquisite and quite valuable.
For him to specifically bring such a “gift” from the city, it was difficult to discern whether the perverse Colonel harbored any ulterior motives.
“This is…”
“Rather than asking me, why not open it and see for yourself?”
Lin Yu walked to the table, cradled the small box Nangong had handed her, and gently unlatched the clasp.
The contents immediately caught her eye.
A dozen or so spherical solids were neatly arranged within a base, perfectly round, thumb-sized, and distinct, reflecting a dangerous yet mysterious luster under the dim light of the tent ceiling.
“…Are these some kind of medicinal pills?”
Nangong shook her head, a smile playing on her lips, urging Lin Yu to try one first. “How many years has it been since the Great Collapse? Where would medicinal pills still be found? Just taste one, and you’ll know.”
Cautiously picking up one from the box, Lin Yu placed it into her mouth.
The moment her tongue touched the spherical surface, a burst of sweetness erupted on her taste buds.
Her eyes widened in surprise, and she cast a clear gaze at Nangong. “It’s candy!”
“It’s the best-selling brand in Pingyuan City.
Originally, it was meant to be shared among your sisters.
But after hearing about your heroic deeds—volunteering to join the army and treat the wounded—he decided to give you the entire box.”
After casually glossing over the conscription as “volunteering for service,” Nangong carried the instruments to the other end of the long table to begin sterilization.
While her hands were busy, she didn’t forget to speak to Lin Yu. “What’s more, just minutes before the Colonel returned, everyone and I agreed on a unified story.”
Dropping all the instruments into a pot, she continued to announce the consensus reached by their seniors moments earlier: “In front of the Colonel, you must present yourself as a ‘cute boy.’ That way, even as the supreme commander, he’ll know to retreat in the face of such an obstacle.”
Lin Yu subtly tilted her head, pouring her confusion into her gaze as her eyes met Nangong’s.
“Why are you looking at me with that expression?”
“Isn’t it wrong to deceive our superiors like this?” Lin Yu set down the beautifully packaged box of candies, her words slightly muffled by the treat in her mouth. “No matter what, he’s still our superior. If this lie were to be discovered, wouldn’t it lead to…”
The main issue wasn’t whether the lie would be discovered, but rather that it constantly reminded her of her past life, where she herself was a potential sufferer of phantom limb pain.
“If you don’t do this, and one day the Colonel finds you charming, I might not be able to stop him.” Nangong believed that Lin Yu presenting herself as a boy in front of the Colonel was the best solution.
“If you can’t stop him, threaten him. Threaten him with a strike.”
“…You really are something.”
Ultimately, however, Lin Yu failed to persuade Nangong to change her mind, leaving her compelled to maintain a male identity in the Colonel’s presence.
‘By the way, if this disguise were discovered, would it somehow add another ‘attack speed buff’?’
Lin Yu diligently suppressed those suggestive thoughts, shifting her attention to the candy in her mouth.
Ever since learning it was a gift from the Colonel, even the sweetness of the candy seemed diminished.