Enduring the whispers and gossip, Lin Yu trailed him closely, only feeling a sense of relief once she personally witnessed the IV needle pierce his vein.
That wretched man gave her absolutely no peace of mind; despite his severe blood loss, he stubbornly gritted his teeth and endured, making her look utterly foolish in front of so many people.
Secretly glancing at the gazes directed their way from others, Lin Yu cursed him venomously in her heart.
Of course, she was also curious about the true meaning behind those lingering stares.
‘…Envy?’
‘Tsk, what on earth? Why would they envy that idio— that Yang— never mind, I’m just grumbling internally, so ‘idiot’ it is.’
‘Why would they envy him? Do they actually believe he’ll just resurrect on the spot if a girl cries and begs him not to die? This isn’t some fairy tale or fantasy novel; even magic has its fundamental principles.’
She couldn’t quite fathom the thought processes of these men; perhaps their incessant smoking and drinking had finally addled their brains.
In her previous life, Lin Yu had neither smoked nor indulged in alcohol, thus she had no idea what the tangible manifestation of “just give them some tobacco and alcohol, and they’ll be happy” truly entailed.
Her seniors had often said, “They can find joy anywhere, carefree and thoughtless,” and she suspected this particular brand of idiocy stemmed from that very sentiment.
Shaking her head where she stood, Lin Yu withdrew her gaze, then walked over to Yang Xi.
She extended her hand and waved it before his eyes. “Can you see clearly? How many fingers am I holding up?”
The young man, whose eyes had been tightly shut, now lifted his gaze to her fingers, responding with a faint, breathy voice, “Two…”
“I’d only believe you were fully recovered if you’d said three, considering you’d even have the energy to annoy me then…” She paused. “Now, I have something very important to tell you. Listen carefully.”
“Mm…”
That nasal sound was actually a question, but his voice was so faint it sounded like an affirmation.
“I’ll be staying in the rear soon, and likely won’t be on the front lines anymore. You need to take good care of yourself. If you get wounded, immediately shout for a medic; don’t wait for someone else to discover your injuries. Dying silently in a trench is the most meaningless way to die in this era, bar none. Do you understand?”
“Mm.”
This time, it was definitely an affirmation, but given his current mental state, it seemed unlikely he would remember any of it.
‘Well, I’ve already told him; whether he remembers or not is his own business, and it has nothing to do with me.’
Only after repeatedly confirming that the young man’s complexion was regaining its healthy flush did Lin Yu stand up from his side and retreat a few steps away.
She hoped he, too, would make it through the war, instead of being left forever on this desolate battlefield.
Out of a peculiar desire to care for the intellectually impaired, she sincerely hoped such an idiot wouldn’t die for such utterly idiotic reasons.
‘This must be what they call a healer’s benevolence, then. I really am an angel, ha ha ha.’
After mentally labeling him an “idiot” countless times, she rose from the array of stretchers, retrieved the water bottle she’d left beside a wooden crate, and prepared to return to her “fishing” (TL Note: Chinese slang for slacking off or idling).
‘Wait, could they have…’
Having only walked a few steps, Lin Yu suddenly remembered something crucial.
She quickly turned back to Yang Xi’s side, then stood on tiptoes to take down the bag of red liquid hanging high above, carefully searching the packaging for any writing.
“Battlefield Emergency Universal Blood… Type Zero… O-type blood?”
Blood is categorized into different types, a fact people in her previous life only formally established in the early 20th century.
If the people of this otherworld were still unaware of this crucial distinction, then hanging a bag of blood would be akin to hanging a ticking time bomb.
Fortunately, the round letter ‘O’ on the bag indicated it was O-type blood, meaning there was a high probability no issues would arise—unless, of course, Yang Xi’s blood type happened to be O-.
‘His luck couldn’t be that bad.’
‘Come to think of it, does this otherworld also use the ABO blood typing system? Could a transmigrator have actually brought that entire system over from their original world?’
Lin Yu didn’t yet know who had proposed the blood type classification in this otherworld; she only knew that, in all likelihood, this bag of blood hadn’t been administered incorrectly and wouldn’t cause a hemolytic reaction.
The strange symbols she had previously seen following the names and hometowns on the dog tags were, in all probability, letters representing blood types.
‘Modern medicine is truly wonderful; no more magical instances of ancient Western doctors blindly resorting to bloodletting for every ailment—it’s truly fantastic.’
After hanging the blood bag back in its original spot and leaving the temporary casualty station with satisfaction, Lin Yu returned to the wooden crate to retrieve her water bottle, then went to the well to queue for water.
Pouring a full pot of cool well water down her throat, she leaned back against the wooden crate, sighing contentedly at the sky, “How sweet.”
****
“Fishing” (slacking off), of course, didn’t just involve shrinking into a small corner to watch people come and go; it also meant wandering around with hands clasped behind her back, observing others’ busy demeanor.
Finding amusement in this was something only a true thrill-seeker would do, and the benevolent, little Lin Yu, with her healer’s heart, would certainly not; she would only feel profound sorrow for the wounded.
‘How wonderful it would be if this war had never happened, unlike now, where they lie on the ground, missing limbs, groaning faintly, not even certain they’ll see tomorrow’s sun.’
She then drifted like a ghost all the way to the rear.
There was also a small hill on the right bank of the Mang River, where Diacla’s artillery was positioned on the reverse slope behind it.
Because of its critical importance, numerous soldiers blocked access, preventing anyone from passing; otherwise, Lin Yu would certainly have questioned the artillerymen as to why the Lanforthians’ range surpassed theirs.
Since the artillery position was off-limits, Lin Yu’s only remaining destination was the command post… well, she probably wouldn’t be allowed in there either.
Commander Yang wasn’t in charge, and she wasn’t familiar with the current temporary officer.
‘So, was she destined to just keep wandering?’
Lin Yu walked to the railway tracks, quickly crossing the sleepers as if it were a road, but because she lifted her legs too slowly, she nearly tripped over the second rail as she left the tracks.
Infuriated, she kicked the rail again, the steel-toed tip of her boot striking the metal surface and sending a jolt that left her leg slightly numb.
“Hey, you over there, watch out! The train’s coming!”
A train approached from the distance, and passing soldiers kindly called out a warning, telling Lin Yu to move aside.
This allowed her to once again witness, at close range, the magic-powered locomotive—which required no fire—grinding to a halt on the tracks.
There was no station nearby, so the train stopped right next to the grassy field, from which Diacla soldiers, clad in neat military uniforms, began disembarking in succession.
Every man was fully equipped, each grasping a rifle in their hands.
After the train stopped, they immediately assembled by the tracks, quickly forming several horizontal lines.
Each carriage held approximately a hundred people, and with scattered carriages, the total number of reinforcements was estimated to be over a thousand.
Watching them march in unison towards the right bank’s position, Lin Yu also overheard the conversation between the officers who had gone to greet them and inquire about the situation.
“Only this many men?”
“Only this many. The train has no place to turn around. Another train will arrive in a few minutes, carrying heavy artillery and ammunition.”
“I’ll have someone bring all the wounded over and transport them back to the rear hospital.”
“We’ll have to wait a bit. They’ll all depart together after the second train arrives and unloads its cargo.”
After the soldiers disembarked, the train did not immediately leave, but remained in place, waiting.
Successive waves of wounded soldiers, their bandages stained with blood, were helped to limp towards the train, while those who had undergone amputations were all carried on stretchers.
“Why so many casualties? How many casualties did your regiment suffer?”
“Those foreign devils charged like madmen; casualties, dead and wounded combined, must be over a thousand.”
The two officers’ conversation soon faded beyond detailed hearing, for someone nearby suddenly called out to Lin Yu to lend a hand: “Hey, shorty over there, stop standing around daydreaming, come help us carry these!”
Looking left and right, she realized she was indeed the shortest person around, and only then did she point to her face, half-doubting, “Are you calling me?”
“Who else? Hurry up and help, get them all loaded.”
Lin Yu was forcibly recruited by an unknown petty officer to help, and all the stamina she had accumulated from slacking off for so long was completely wasted on carrying the wounded.
She had barely carried a few people when the officer noticed her flagging strength, waving her off to attend to the wounded lying inside the carriages, as if this were her rightful duty.
‘It clearly is, isn’t it?’
Climbing into the carriage, she gazed at the wounded lying crisscrossed on the floor and began to check their vital signs one by one, ensuring no one’s condition had worsened.
Slacking off is good, but don’t overdo it; having something to do makes one feel more at ease.
Until a joyful voice emerged from among the groaning wounded: “Lin… Lin Yu? Is that really you?”