Having received the book Nangong once cherished, Lin Yu found herself feeling no joy at all.
When Nangong departed the medical tent, she had undoubtedly left her original copy behind.
Thus, that previous book, along with everything else in the medical tent, must have been reduced to smoke and ash.
Any sentiments imbued within its pages would have likewise vanished into nothingness.
It was for this very reason that such profound sorrow lay hidden beneath Nangong’s smile.
Lin Yu had never truly grasped that the senior medics and Commander Yang were not merely her own companions, but also Nangong’s dearest friends, with whom she had shared countless days and nights.
The Lanforthians’ artillery shells had not only stolen Lin Yu’s precious memories, but Nangong’s as well.
Nangong simply chose not to outwardly display the same depth of sorrow as Lin Yu.
Clutching the heavy book to her chest, Lin Yu mused.
They proceeded together towards the new commanding officer’s office.
“Oh… you must be Lin Yu, then?”
After Nangong knocked, the officer who opened the door immediately recognized the petite medic trailing behind her.
Surprised to hear her name called by an unfamiliar superior, Lin Yu showed a hint of astonishment. “You… know me?”
Upon entering the office, Nangong stepped aside, ceding the space to the new commanding officer and Lin Yu.
“Of course. You are our combat hero, after all. Half the army now knows the heroic tales of you and that Private First Class.”
“…”
Lin Yu could never forget the dawn of that long, arduous day, waking on the lawn after Major Liu Kaiqi had roused her… and hadn’t she spoken with Nangong even earlier, about her inexplicable collapse in the garage?
Though it felt like little time had passed, she had the distinct impression that an overwhelming number of events had transpired.
There had been medals, rescues, the front lines breached, and even a mission to demolish a bridge.
It truly felt like an endlessly long day, and her actions seemed to have far exceeded the typical duties of a medic.
“Is that so? I’m truly honored, then.”
Forcing a practiced smile, much like she had during her interview, Lin Yu replied to the officer before her.
Lin Yu was certain that Major Liu Kaiqi (TL Note: A nickname, ‘Liu Paopao,’ implying Major Liu is a ‘runner’ or ‘fleeing’ type, often used for someone who moves quickly or is opportunistic.) had, as planned, published the reporter’s account in the newspapers. Otherwise, this officer, whom she had never met, would never have recognized obscure grunts like herself and Yang Xi.
Whether this was a blessing or a curse, she remained unsure, and so she cast a pleading glance towards Nangong.
Nangong, for her part, offered an encouraging nod, a silent ‘You can do it.’
Perhaps it was a good thing, then.
Putting on a brave face, Lin Yu began conversing with her future commanding officer, using the published reports to craft an image of a loyal, patriotic combat hero.
She repeated the same answers she had given the reporter, engaging in a continuous ten-minute exchange of mutual flattery with the officer, until it finally concluded.
“Ah, it’s about time. Pack your belongings. I’ll have someone escort you to your squad’s quarters shortly.”
During the ten-minute exchange of pleasantries, the officer had divulged a fair amount of information, including the new unit’s designation and its upcoming assignments.
The designation remained unchanged; their mission was to rest and train in their current location.
This meant that she, Nangong, Yang Xi, and the dozen or so soldiers who had survived the Battle of Mang River, would all remain within the “224th Homeland Defense Brigade” roster.
With Commander Yang himself still missing, what purpose could there possibly be in maintaining a “brigade” of fewer than twenty individuals?
Aside from inviting ridicule from the Lanforthians, or perhaps demonstrating the “Diacla Army’s formidable capacity to absorb losses,” Lin Yu could fathom no other meaning.
Since Commander Yang remained missing, this Captain Liao (TL Note: A new character, Captain Liao, who is temporarily commanding the First Task Force.) would temporarily assume command of the “First Task Force.”
Of course, he would not be temporarily commanding the “224th Homeland Defense Brigade”; after all, that was a brigade-level formation, and having a Captain as its commander would surely invite mockery.
This inexplicably formed task force would continue its inexplicable existence, ostensibly following the orders of the General Staff.
“Oh, and one more thing: training will commence today and tomorrow. You’d best prepare yourselves in advance… don’t say I didn’t give you fair warning or that I don’t look out for women.”
“Understood.”
“Nangong Yun, take her over there. Some of her personal effects were delivered earlier; remember to tell her where they are.”
Having heard the new commanding officer’s brief instructions regarding the new unit, Nangong led Lin Yu away once more.
On their way, Nangong squeezed Lin Yu’s shoulder. “How was it? Exhausting, wasn’t it? Pretending to be a loyal, patriotic, good girl?”
“Pretending? What are you talking about…” Lin Yu glanced left and right, only relaxing when she saw no one else nearby. “Nangong, you shouldn’t say things like that in public. It’s too dangerous.”
“Are you still going to lie to me? Don’t think I don’t know why you became a medic in the first place.”
Why indeed had she become a medic?
Of course, it was for half a bowl of cold stew. A scrawny village girl, so famished she’d crave even the steamed buns she wouldn’t have spared a glance in her past life. What other reason could there be for her to remain in the army, serving Diacla, if not for a meal?
Had she been born into a wealthy family, her story might have been one of domestic intrigue—but spare her that fate; she wasn’t cut out for a female-oriented novel plot.
Nor was she particularly suited for the typical male-oriented novel tropes of advancing technology, leading rebellions, commanding armies, and achieving great feats.
By a twist of fate, she had become a medic, and, unexpectedly, the acts of healing and compassionate care aligned perfectly with her nature.
“I know you can see right through me, but these kinds of things…”
“Shouldn’t be said in broad daylight, right?”
“Y-yes. Exactly.”
“I know. After all, we have an emperor with real power above us.”
That’s right, I even met him once and blurted out something strange on a whim. The old man seemed quite pleased and fond of it, and apparently, it’s even been promoted as a new form of etiquette?
This would undoubtedly be counted among Lin Yu’s personal embarrassing moments.
They arrived together at the new unit’s quarters, a residential area several hundred meters from the hospital, where numerous low-rise civilian homes had been repurposed as barracks.
The remnants of the defeated forces, who had once gathered awaiting their next orders, now moved between the buildings, bustling about with an unknown fervor.
Nangong led Lin Yu to a small storage room, where a multitude of blood-stained clothes, having putrefied to a foul stench, assaulted their senses.
“The clothes you changed out of that night are all in here. And your belongings from after you were injured have also been placed together…”
Lin Yu’s eyes lit up at this, thinking, ‘Perhaps…’
“Of course, your underwear isn’t here. It was cut into shreds by trauma shears and tossed into the trash.”
Her vision instantly darkened.
Her ill-fitting Lanforthian military uniform hadn’t contained anything of significance.
The new uniform she had changed out of, however, did hold a few items: two sheets of letter paper, several bottles of painkillers, and various miscellaneous trinkets tucked into its pockets and webbing.
Lin Yu rummaged through the odorous storeroom, swiftly locating usable items among her belongings.
The uniform she had worn for the award ceremony could certainly be worn again; such a small size was incredibly hard to find, and missing this opportunity meant there wouldn’t be another.
The letter paper remained perfectly intact, its handwriting still clearly legible. Had she carried it during the demolition mission, it might well have been soaked by the river water, rendering it unreadable.
The painkillers were still sealed, suitable for reserve, and both the webbing and ammunition pouches were still wearable.
There was no need to take the Lanforthian uniform; after all, there would be no occasion to wear enemy attire within a Diacla military camp.
Hmm… the binoculars could be taken, as could the holster; though they had been submerged, they weren’t damaged.
She hoped she would be issued an equally beautiful pistol, rather than a heavy manual rifle that, with its bayonet fixed, would nearly be taller than she was.
Gathering everything she could, Lin Yu was then led by Nangong to a small house.
“This will be our dormitory from now on. We’ll be living here. Don’t worry, there won’t be any men sharing the space.”