Stepping once more into the labyrinthine trenches, Lin Yu found her mindset starkly altered from her previous visit.
The moonlight tonight was generous, casting enough illumination to guide her steps and reveal the faces beneath the steel helmets.
Quickly maneuvering past several sandbags, she stopped before a soldier who was leaning against a firing position, smoking. “Excuse me,” she began, “I’m trying to find out which direction the Second Company’s defensive line is located.”
He gestured vaguely towards the distant, sprawling fortifications. “The Second Company’s position is to the left… But tell me, Doctor, what brings you out here?”
Having given Lin Yu directions, the soldier couldn’t resist inquiring about her purpose. After all, it was late, and medics rarely ventured to the front lines, especially at such an hour.
“It’s a personal matter, one I’m unable to disclose,” Lin Yu replied, politely deflecting his query before turning to continue in the direction he had indicated.
“Are you delivering food to someone?” he called out. “Who’s the lucky one?”
His voice echoed from behind, sparking a flurry of whispers among the nearby soldiers. Some speculated about the recipient of the metal lunchbox, while others urged the outspoken soldier to temper his curiosity.
“Are you mad? Trying to flirt with her!”
“Don’t you fear death…?”
“She’s known to…”
Leaving the bewildered soldiers in her wake, Lin Yu lowered her head and pressed on, navigating the winding trenches.
Perhaps due to the recent dry spell, the pervasive mud that had mired the trenches during her last, reluctant visit had vanished, leaving only dry, cracked wooden planks underfoot. Her boots now produced an eerie, persistent creak with every step.
The slender figure moved steadily along the trench, the creaking sound trailing her like an unseen specter.
Ahead, a formidable bunker stood, a hundred-meter radius of hardened firepower support. Constructed from reinforced concrete poured directly into the earth, such a fortification was impervious to conventional artillery fire. ‘Though, perhaps there’s no rebar within these walls.’
“I’ve reached the bunker,” she murmured to herself. “And now I need to… move forward?”
Clutching the still-warm metal lunchbox, she peered into the communication trench that stretched ahead. Her height prevented her from seeing more than ten meters beyond the jagged walls; only dark, sharp turns were visible.
She then suppressed the urge to stand on tiptoes for a better look.
Even with the prolonged cessation of shelling, countless rifles were likely still trained from the opposing trenches. To carelessly expose herself would invite the same fate as many of the wounded—a bullet.
‘Ugh… it seems my ill reputation has already spread among the soldiers,’ she thought with a sigh. ‘Is it true that anyone I treat cannot escape the clutches of death? How utterly… sickening.’
As she walked alone between the towering earthen walls, a quiet sorrow crept into her heart.
‘How wonderful it would be if this particular talent had manifested when I was a warrior,’ she mused. ‘Why did it only appear when I became a medic…? Never mind, I shouldn’t dwell on it.’
Traversing the communication trench, she reached the forwardmost alert trench, one of three. Lin Yu instinctively crouched low, her eyes scanning for the man she sought.
Only a minimal number of soldiers manned the very front of the trench, their role primarily to provide early warning and slow any enemy advance. Given its status as a primary target for Lanfors heavy artillery, deploying excessive troops here would be a futile and costly endeavor.
Was it misfortune or fortune? Fortunate, perhaps, that he had been reassigned to reinforce such a perilous front-line position just as the Lanfors forces had recently ceased their bombardment. Unfortunate, conversely, that he was here at all.
Systematically questioning each soldier she encountered, Lin Yu finally located the man she sought after dozens of inquiries.
“Excuse me, I hope I’m not disturbing you.”
The figure, who had been standing with his back to the medic at the firing position, slowly turned. His dark eyes met her brown ones.
“Yes?” he asked, lifting his steel helmet. He then moved his rifle from the sandbags and casually slung it over his back.
Only after confirming he was the man she sought did Lin Yu articulate the words she had prepared. “Do you remember me? You testified on my behalf in court today…”
She found herself somewhat reluctant to meet his gaze, aware that her actions might appear peculiar to any onlookers.
A medic from the rear lines carrying a lunchbox through the trenches to a soldier fighting at the front could easily suggest a relationship transcending mere camaraderie.
Their bond had, in fact, already surpassed simple camaraderie. He had long been Lin Yu’s savior; if their first encounter in the shell crater hadn’t cemented it, his testimony in court certainly had.
“Of course,” he replied. “It was nothing. As fellow warriors dedicated to His Majesty, I recognize your loyalty.”
‘Why is he spouting such odd remarks again?’ Lin Yu wondered.
Lin Yu shook her head, dispelling her internal doubts while simultaneously refuting his last statement. “How can you say it was nothing? Your testimony was absolutely crucial. Without it, I’d likely be rotting in a prison cell for the rest of my days… So, please, accept this small token of my gratitude.”
Mustering her courage, Lin Yu rattled off her prepared lines in a single breath, then extended the metal lunchbox towards him. “My friends threw a small celebration for me after I returned, so I packed some leftovers, thinking you might appreciate a share.”
As the lid lifted, thinly sliced meat and vegetables, still steaming faintly, were revealed. Moonlight shimmered on the surface of the broth, lending it an odd, almost grotesque sheen.
The rich, spicy aroma of the hotpot broth wafted through the air, successfully capturing the attention of nearby soldiers, who now cast curious glances in their direction.
“Please, eat it while it’s still warm.”
Observing his hesitant expression as he stared at the food, Lin Yu suddenly realized she hadn’t given him chopsticks. “Oh, right, utensils!” she exclaimed. “I nearly forgot.”
She produced a pair of bamboo chopsticks from her pocket, holding them by the thinner end as she offered them to him.
He declined the chopsticks, instead bending to rummage through the clutter piled beside his firing position. Finally, he retrieved a spoon and waved it before Lin Yu. “This will do,” he stated. “I’m not particularly adept with chopsticks.”
Moonlight glinted off the spoon’s metallic surface, reflecting a soft white light as he moved it.
As Lin Yu watched him clumsily scoop up a slice of meat, an enormous, inescapable question formed in her mind: ‘You’re the Lanfors spy, aren’t you, you rascal!’
‘He can’t use chopsticks, for heaven’s sake? A Diacla person, choosing a spoon over chopsticks when eating? And then telling me, as a Diacla person, he’s not very good with them?’
‘Isn’t that a fundamental skill every Diacla child learns from an early age? He talks of fighting loyally for His Majesty and the Empire, blah blah blah, but in reality, *he* must be the spy!’
Lin Yu’s expression flickered through a range of emotions, while the man settled back against the wooden plank and sandbags, cradling the lunchbox and beginning to eat with gusto.
“Sff… sff…”
“Don’t speak with your mouth full,” she gently admonished. “I’ll wait until you’re finished.”
Lin Yu sat on an ammunition box across the narrow passage, propping her elbows on her knees and resting her chin in her palm.
His trivial act of eating with a spoon was no different from her own prayers for the wounded using Zongzheng Sect rituals; if witnessed by someone with malicious intent, it could easily be twisted into incriminating evidence.
Yet Lin Yu was not the type to act like a quartermaster. She would never recklessly report others, nor would she seize upon such a detail as leverage to manipulate someone. Just because she had been caught in the rain herself didn’t mean she would tear apart another’s umbrella.
Such malicious acts were simply beyond her.
In her previous life, she had been a timid soul, prone to startling and jerking her mouse at enemies around every corner, no matter how much she played. Her courage in this life certainly hadn’t grown; if anything, it might have diminished even further.
Ah, but it wasn’t fear that kept her from doing wrong; rather, it was her kind heart. Having weathered the storm herself, she aimed to become a sheltering umbrella for others, sparing them a similar fate.
Having faced death once in her previous life, she knew its profound terror. This understanding fueled her relentless efforts to save lives, one after another, within the confines of the medical tent.
Even if they ultimately succumbed to unexpected fates after leaving the tent, at least their lives had been prolonged by days, hours, or even mere minutes, granting them precious time to leave their final words and express any lingering regrets.
Watching him devour his meal with a vengeance, Lin Yu was reminded of her own first day meeting Nangong, when she too had indiscriminately gulped down food from her bowl.
‘It seems even as a senior private, a cannon fodder’s (TL Note: ‘Fill line baby,’ a colloquial term for a soldier assigned to reinforce dangerous front lines, often implying expendability or low status.) rations aren’t much better,’ she mused. ‘My decision to stick with Nangong was definitely the right one.’
Pondering her astute decision, Lin Yu’s free right hand moved to her waist, retrieving her canteen. She brought it before her, ready to twist open the cap and take a drink.
The pungent scent of alcohol, however, suddenly brought to mind the favor the Lieutenant Colonel had asked of her.
Immediately, she extended the canteen towards him. “Oh, and this,” she added, “the Lieutenant Colonel specifically poured this liquor for you.”
“Thanks,” he grunted, snatching the canteen and taking a deep swig, then exhaling with a long, alcoholic sigh.
“Ahhh… that’s potent. A truly fine liquor.”
“You, you, you! Why did you drink directly from the mouth?”
Seeing someone not close to her guzzle from her canteen mouth-to-mouth made Lin Yu instantly bristle. She lunged forward, intending to snatch it back.
“Eh? What’s wrong?”
“Th-that’s *my* canteen! I meant for you to pour it into your own…”
Noticing the clear red oil from the hotpot broth clinging to the canteen’s screw threads, Lin Yu’s anger flared, quickly followed by exasperation. “How could you just…”
“My apologies. I thought between comrades, such small matters didn’t concern us. Er, how about you take a drink from my canteen?”
“Who wants your canteen?”
The medic’s voice echoed through the night, drawing the gazes of numerous soldiers who turned to watch the spectacle.