“If one day you see a man you fancy on the operating table, and mere scalpels and sutures prove insufficient to save him, you’ll surely be consumed by heartache and regret, won’t you?”
Nangong, her right hand now fully healed, settled it upon Lin Yu’s head.
Traces of blood, remnants from the wound, transferred onto Lin Yu’s white medic’s cap.
“Despite possessing a talent for magic, you haven’t bothered to learn healing spells, leaving you to watch your beloved slowly perish…”
“N-no, nothing of the sort!”
She then vigorously ruffled Lin Yu’s hair through her cap.
“What do you mean ‘nothing of the sort’? You have a talent for learning magic; I can clearly see it.”
‘It was evident Nangong had misunderstood.’
‘Lin Yu’s statement wasn’t a rebuttal of her “talent for magic,” but rather of the notion of a “beloved.”’
Regarding her transmigration to an alternate world “devoid of drones,” Lin Yu harbored one persistent difficulty in acceptance: a perfectly enthusiastic, somewhat foolish young man had suddenly transformed into a girl, growing up as such from childhood.
Even more terrifying, in this alternate world where marital customs remained primitive, it was considered as natural for women to marry men as it was to repay debts.
There existed no precedent for women marrying women, nor for men marrying men.
Consequently, no one would ever suggest she could be exempted from the obligation of marriage simply because she had once been a man.
Likewise, no one knew of her past life, or that in that previous existence, she had been male.
Regarding “marriage,” Lin Yu had long since resolved how she would make her sacrifice.
Once she was wed to someone, her parents would receive a substantial bride price, which could somewhat alleviate their impoverished existence.
If she could marry into a well-off family, she wouldn’t have to endure hunger in the future.
Should she truly find marriage unbearable, she could always use a pair of scissors to stab herself.
Dying within the sedan chair would even earn her the posthumous reputation of “resisting an arranged marriage.”
This had been Lin Yu’s meticulously planned future since childhood, and the most probable course of action she would take.
Rural areas lacked the intricate machinations of cities; marriage fraud and bride price scams still constituted a blue ocean industry for deception, meaning once the bride price was given, there was no legitimate reason to reclaim it.
After she carried out her planned suicide within the sedan chair, her parents would no longer have to endure their hardship.
Now, however, things were different.
Having become a medic, she enjoyed a daily ration of one or two taels of meat, eating until her mouth glistened with oil.
Her monthly salary alone was equivalent to half a year’s harvest from her family’s small plot of land.
She no longer needed to cling to a suicidal mindset, marrying the son of some family who could afford a bride price.
‘So, was it time to start contemplating romance and marriage…?’
‘Still, it wasn’t an option.’
She dared not voice something as unconventional as “I don’t plan to marry.”
The excuse “I’m not old enough” had already expired before her birthday.
If questioned, she could only claim she no longer wished to pursue an uncertain future with a common soldier.
Gathering her thoughts, Lin Yu continued: “If I’m discovered secretly learning magic, I might be transferred elsewhere, right? If I get transferred away…”
“How could you be discovered if you learn in secret? Come, I’ll teach you.”
Nangong took Lin Yu’s hand, lowered her voice, and meticulously taught her the incantations and magic circles, word by word.
This endeavor would become a small secret known only to them.
This spell, too, would become the skill Lin Yu was both most grateful for and most regretful of learning.
Magic, to be cast, required a foundation of mana.
Beginning with meditation would aid in subsequent comprehension.
Under Nangong’s meticulous guidance, Lin Yu gradually mastered the technique of acquiring mana through meditation.
“Can you feel the presence of mana? It should feel slightly warm, like drinking a cup of hot water on a frigid day.”
“Just a little, I think…”
“Good. Now, try to gather it in your hand, then silently recite the incantation with me in your mind.”
“Mmm…”
Lin Yu’s initial practical target was a pinprick-sized wound on the back of Nangong’s hand, inflicted by an IV needle.
The first few attempts at spellcasting by a beginner were not guaranteed to be effective.
If the wound were made too large, failing to heal it would be one thing, but it would primarily result in significant blood loss and intense pain.
Thus, Nangong had only pricked her own hand once, avoiding a larger incision.
As Lin Yu silently chanted the incantation in her mind, green gas and points of light, much like those seen earlier, materialized in her palm.
They slowly converged upon the pinprick, which was gently oozing blood.
However, they were far sparser than those generated by Nangong’s demonstrated healing spell.
“That’s enough. You’ve succeeded.”
The wound ceased to bleed.
Nangong gently brushed it with her finger, and a small scab flaked away, revealing pristine skin beneath, as if the injury had never existed.
“Is this… magic?”
“Yes. Let’s try again. That small wound barely consumed any mana. Now, let’s try a slightly larger injury.”
Before Lin Yu could fully register her words, Nangong took her hand and sliced a cut across her palm.
“Ah!”
The sudden attack startled Lin Yu, but upon seeing the scalpel in Nangong’s hand, Lin Yu’s thoughts turned to another matter.
“Did you re-sterilize that after cutting your hand just now?”
“…”
“Did you?”
“Ah-ha, I forgot.”
“It won’t get infected, will it?”
“It probably won’t.”
In any case, young Lin Yu’s healing spell was a resounding success, though the cost was the immediate depletion of the small amount of mana she had just acquired through meditation.
“My mana ran out so quickly, and it was only for a small cut…”
She tried clenching her fist again; the pain had vanished, and the cut area in her palm now felt no discomfort whatsoever.
Were it not for the lingering traces of blood in her palm lines, Lin Yu might have even believed the injury had been an illusion.
“You’ve only just learned, so it’s perfectly normal for the effect to be somewhat weak.
With diligent practice, you will one day be able to heal wounds far more severe than this.”
Nangong watched Lin Yu’s retreating figure as she walked towards the pile of supplies.
“By then, even if your beloved lies gravely wounded on the operating table, you could secretly use magic to instantly heal him, couldn’t you…?”
Lin Yu picked up her rifle, and mimicking Nangong’s earlier action, ejected another bullet from the magazine.
Just as she was examining the bullet pinched between her fingertips, a hand suddenly pressed down on her shoulder.
“Don’t casually use things like this.”
Nangong instantly saw through Lin Yu’s little scheme: she wanted to emulate her, using the bullet’s magic stone to replenish mana.
“The best way to replenish mana is through meditative recovery.
The next best is to have it transferred by another mage, and the least effective method is to drink a potion.”
“As for consuming these industrial magic stones, it’s a last resort, to be used only when there are no other options.
If you treat them like little snacks, be careful not to stunt your growth.
You wouldn’t want to stay this short your entire life, would you?”
‘Caught trying to ‘snack’ on bullets!’
Lin Yu attempted to explain her actions: “Meditation is too slow.
If I had to rely on meditation to recover mana, the injured would surely all be dead by then…”
“That’s precisely why I taught you how to staunch bleeding, how to perform surgery, and how to suture.
It was so you could handle severe injuries even without healing magic.”
Listening to Nangong’s lecture, Lin Yu simultaneously pressed the gleaming bullet back into the magazine.
She fumbled to reset the bolt and returned the rifle to its original position.
“We Diacla have already lost our ‘Immortal Arts’ (TL Note: ‘仙术’, xian shu, refers to ancient spiritual or mystical techniques, often associated with cultivation or immortality) due to the ‘Great Collapse.’
One day, the ‘magic’ of those foreigners will also completely vanish because of their own ‘Great Collapse.’
At that time, there will be no more healing spells or magic tools in the world, no more magical machinery or magic stones.”
Nangong recounted the terrifying future she envisioned.
“But wars will still rage on, and ultimately, we will have to rely on our own hands to save lives.”
She gently smoothed Lin Yu’s long hair, which had escaped from beneath her cap.
“That is why we are called ‘medics,’ not ‘mages.’”
Lin Yu nodded, appearing to understand yet not quite.
“Speaking of which, how long has it been since you last washed your hair?”