“You can go in now.”
After the doctor departed, Nangong entered the ward, settling onto the bedside chair. With a practiced motion, she gently pulled Lin Yu’s clothes back onto her shoulders, fastening the buttons.
It was only upon noticing Nangong’s actions that Lin Yu realized she had been sitting on the bed with her chest exposed; she swiftly snatched the edges of her clothing and buttoned them herself.
“Lin Yu, what did that doctor just do to you?”
“Uh… nothing really? Just a normal check-up, I think?”
“Tell me exactly what kind of examinations they performed.”
“It seemed… they first used a stethoscope to listen to my chest and lower abdomen, then drew a vial of blood… Oh, Nangong, quick, press this for me!”
With her left hand injured and her right unable to reach the small cotton swab, she hadn’t managed to apply pressure to stop the bleeding. The puncture wound, left unattended after the blood draw, soon began to trickle with fresh blood.
Realizing the issue only now, she hastily urged Nangong to help press down.
“I’ll press. And then?”
“Then? They took out a strange little instrument and scanned it over my body.”
“I see… I understand now. She was likely personnel sent to verify your magical talent. You’re probably going to be assigned official healer duties.”
“Oh…”
Perhaps it’s for the best.
To possess a talent for magic yet bury it deep, unwilling to reveal it to save others, to merely sit by and watch lives ebb away due to a lack of medical care and supplies—this was certainly not the conduct of a doctor.
With a doctor’s benevolent heart, how could the kind-hearted Lin Yu possibly refuse to treat the wounded?
However, if healing others came at the cost of frantically consuming magic potions, Lin Yu would need to give it considerable thought.
In truth, there was little need for extensive deliberation; while she might only lose some height, they were losing their very lives.
Though it felt somewhat like moral blackmail, Lin Yu genuinely believed that the smiles of recovering patients were the most beautiful thing in the world.
What she failed to realize, however, was that after spending some time with Yang Xi, this seemingly unwavering conviction of hers would once again shift.
Just as her previous resolve to return home alive, retire, purchase an apartment, and become a doctor in the city—how could she possibly decide to face death alongside Yang Xi before that aspiration had even been fulfilled?
Nangong observed all the subtle shifts in Lin Yu’s mindset, and from the bottom of her heart, she concluded that Yang Xi was indeed a man burdened by profound sin.
“These are all matters you need only ponder once your injuries have healed,” Nangong advised. “For now, rest easy. Your attending doctor stated you require two more days of recuperation, so there’s no need to rush back to the unit.”
“Okay.”
Lin Yu withdrew her hand, burrowing into the soft, pristine white duvet of the hospital bed, preparing for a much-needed rest.
She had endured far too much in recent days. Ever since the logistics area was shelled by the enemy, she had felt as exhausted as if she had been working non-stop for dozens of hours, particularly on the day she was called to receive her medal.
Even after three days of unconsciousness, she hadn’t slept enough; fatigue still held her firmly in its grip, making her long to sleep until the war concluded.
Failing that, simply sleeping until the end of the Battle of Mang River would be quite wonderful.
“By the way, how’s the war going? What happened after we passed out in the trenches?”
“What else could happen,” Nangong said, picking up a few strands of Lin Yu’s hair scattered on the pillow and gently rubbing them between her fingers, “A complete victory, of course. Otherwise, both of you would have been captured by the Lanforthians long ago.”
Nangong briefly apprised Lin Yu of the current war situation: Diacla had achieved a resounding victory, and the Lanforthians had fled in disarray.
As for the tactical specifics, and the role Lin Yu’s suicide squad played in the battle, a medic like Nangong, stationed far behind the front lines, would certainly have no access to such information.
If Lin Yu truly wished to know, she would have to inquire with those directly involved: the wounded soldiers who had been withdrawn, high-ranking officers, or even Commander Mo himself, who had commanded the entire engagement.
That is, if they were willing to grant an audience to a mere medic like her.
“Is that so…”
“Yes,” Nangong affirmed. “You should get some sleep for a while. I have something to attend to outside, but I’ll bring you a surprise when I return. Make sure to look forward to it.”
The tall medic beside her rustled as she rose, leaving Lin Yu alone in the private ward, staring blankly up at the pristine white ceiling.
“Mmm…”
She attempted to raise her left hand before her eyes, finding it slightly difficult, and wisely decided against straining her newly reattached nerves.
With her right hand, she gently rubbed the area where she had been shot, distinctly feeling an indentation beneath the skin.
Even if the exterior showed no signs, the internal body tissues had been savagely ripped apart.
A full-power rifle round truly was terrifying; a single hit could leave one half-crippled. It seemed those ‘Anti-Japanese War’ TV dramas had been entirely fictitious.
‘Tsk, hadn’t she already known such things from her past life on the battlefield? Why was she dwelling on them so much now?’
She snuggled further into the duvet, her chin resting against the cotton quilt, the edge of the duvet cover lightly chafing her neck, causing a faint itch.
Her breathing slowed, her gaze grew hazy, and she prepared to drift into slumber.
Inhale… exhale… inhale… exhale…
Her eyelashes fluttered faintly, her eyes half-closed, and her thin, chapped lips unconsciously murmured.
The setting sun cast its golden light upon the bed, and even as the girl slept profoundly, she appeared as beautiful as a painted masterpiece.
Light and shadow sculpted the curve of her nose from the side, her eyebrows were tinged a faint gold beneath the glow, and her subtly fluttering eyelashes resembled tiny butterflies gently opening and closing their wings.
It had been an age since she had slept with such profound peace, free from the dread of shells falling from above, the fear of being roused by a passing officer, or the anxiety of tomorrow’s tasks and obligations.
It felt truly wonderful, as if she had returned to a bygone era of carefree innocence, her mind brimming with thoughts of where she and her playful companions would go to cause mischief tomorrow.
“What? A thesis defense? A resume? A job? You must be delirious from sleep; wake up, the snack shop is open!”
Scenes almost buried in the deepest recesses of her memory surfaced in her dreams, as if brought to life once more.
As for the protracted war, and this extraordinary adventure since enlisting… they were all firmly suppressed by her childhood recollections.
****
Nangong’s promised surprise arrived swiftly, heralded by the heavy thud of steel-soled, studded military boots echoing from afar on the hospital floor.
Lin Yu, meanwhile, was still luxuriating in her dream, romping around the world with her mischievous friends, and thoroughly enjoying herself playing arcade games in a small county town’s amusement hall.
That is, until the arcade hall’s door was kicked open by a squad of ‘hat uncles’ (TL Note: A colloquial Chinese term for police officers), who then ushered all the little rascals, including her, out.
She never once realized that, within the dreams of her childhood, she too was a girl.
“Lin Yu, are you okay? I heard you were unconscious for three whole days.”
The ‘hat uncle’ leaned close to her ear, muttering her name and threatening to inform her parents that she had dared to splurge a hundred game coins at the arcade hall.
“Pocket… pocket money…”
“Lin Yu?”
“That’s my pocket money—Huh? Yang Xi? What are you doing here?!”
Abruptly transitioning from the dream into reality, Lin Yu was visibly flustered for a moment. “You, you, you… how did you get here?!”
“Your medic friend insisted I come visit you. I couldn’t refuse her, so I came.”
“This, this… I see. Well, cough, cough, I suppose you’re permitted to visit me.”
Hearing this, Yang Xi approached Lin Yu’s bedside, taking the seat Nangong had previously occupied.
The girl, meanwhile, squirmed for a long moment beneath the covers, adjusting her posture to sit upright on the bed, her gaze meeting the man’s.
Merely meeting his gaze offered no clue as to his current mood, leaving Lin Yu uncertain of what tone to adopt for her words.
‘Should she be haughty? After all, last night… without her healing magic that night, this fellow would certainly not have seen the light of day for the past few days.’
‘Or perhaps a little humble? If not for his valiant fighting, she likewise would not have witnessed today’s sunset.’
As she still wrestled with how to speak, a strange sensation suddenly coursed through her body.