Chapter 17 — Praying for Tham Yen Tri Binh A

The hand that was pressing So Lang Yen's wound suddenly trembled. Previous life. It's the past life again. He was afraid that she would fall on the wall, afraid that she would die in front of the cliff, so he pulled her back in front of the battlements. Now he still took an arrow for her, saying he didn't have a chance in his previous life. An image suddenly flashed in her mind. On the city wall, a person fell from above. The image came too quickly, like a knife to the head. She suddenly closed her eyes. When he opened his eyes again, the deputy general rushed forward. "Military physician! Call military medical officer!" Her voice broke in the wind. Below the city wall came the sound of the horns of the Bac Di people. Not attacking, but retreating. The underground guard outside the North Gate blocked their retreat. The bows and crossbows at the Dong gate suppressed the flanks, the siege hammers were destroyed, and their offensive position was completely broken. The small soldier ran back to report: "General So! The Bac Di people have withdrawn! We have won!" So Lang Yen supported his shoulder, lowered her head and discovered that his eyes were half closed, his lips moving slightly as if saying something. She leaned closer to her ear. "...Luckily you're okay this time." So Lang Yen frowned as he heard his deputy report a series of numbers when counting the losses. Seventy-two mechanical crossbows were damaged at the East gate, a section of the battlements at the North gate collapsed, more than five thousand soldiers were wounded, and more than three thousand people died. After listening, she nodded: "Those who die in battle should be buried according to the Bac Canh army's regulations. The allowance for the family is taken from my general's salary." The deputy general received orders to leave. The military doctors were busy in the tent for half an hour before they finished treating the wound on Tham Yen Tri's shoulder. The arrow cut was not deep, but the wound was very long, stretching from the tip of the shoulder to the upper arm, requiring more than ten stitches. The military doctor said he lost a lot of blood, but fortunately there was no damage to his bones. But the left shoulder tendons are damaged, and this arm will later be affected when using a sword. If maintained well, seven or eight points can be recovered. After listening, So Lang Yen stood outside the tent door, his expression was very calm, he just nodded. Waiting for the military doctor to leave, she walked in carrying a basin of hot water. Tham Yen Tri leaned on the marching bed, his face pale from blood loss, his lips white but still conscious. She pulled out a chair to sit next to the bed, squeezed a hot towel, and wiped the blood from his hands. His fingers were covered in dried blood, mixed with the dust on the city wall, forming a layer of dark red scales. She wiped each finger one by one, very slowly. From the thumb to the little finger, from the tip of the toe to the toe, there are no old knife marks or new calluses missed. When she wiped the deepest mark between her thumb and index finger, her hand stopped. "The military doctor said that if you use a sword in the future, you will be affected." She bowed her head, her voice sad, her hand clenching the scarf until her knuckles turned white, "You were originally an expert with the sword. You could be ranked among the top three in De Kinh. Now for me, this arm of yours..." "It's worth it." He said. So Lang Yen suddenly raised his eyes. He leaned against the head of the bed, his lips still white, but his eyes did not avoid, just looking straight at her. She suddenly felt a lump in her throat, threw the towel into the basin and stood up, turning her back to him. She walked to the table, picked up the kettle and poured a cup of water. The movement was too hasty, half a cup of water spilled onto the table. "Don't block for me in the future. You are a prince, with a noble status. If I am injured or disabled, how can I tell the Saint? I don't need you to block an arrow. I can avoid it myself. I fought in the Northern Realm for three years, and I have never suffered any kind of injury, an arrow from a crossbow is..." "In my previous life, I had no chance." He said. This is the third time he said that sentence. So Lang Yen turned around to look at him. He leaned against the head of the bed, the bandage on his shoulder still soaked in blood. Since coming to Bac Canh, the blood under his eyes has never disappeared. She moved her lips to say something, but that image suddenly flashed in her mind. City walls, battlements, a person falling from above

High. This time she saw more clearly. She saw clearly that the person was herself, saw clearly that when she fell, there was no one on the city wall. There was no one to block the arrows in front of the battlements, no one to pull her back when she fell, and no one to find her on the graveyard. So Lang Yen suddenly looked away from his face, her fingers tightened on the edge of the table, her knuckles turned white. That image was so real, so real that her heart still ached right now. She didn't dare let him see her eyes. Because there were so many things she hadn't yet had time to think clearly about. She took a deep breath, picked up the half-dumped cup of water on the table, and drank it all. "You should rest first." She said, her voice covered by the cup of water, sadly, "Wait for the wound to heal before speaking." So Lang Yen walked to the tent door, opened the curtain, stopped for a moment but did not turn around. "Wait until you are well, the wonton still has to be done. You said you want to pursue me in the future, how can you pursue it like this? First of all, heal well." Tham Yen Tri lay in the tent for three days. Every day after patrolling the city wall, So Lang Yen would come and sit by the bed to change medicine for him. The movements became more and more skillful. "Didn't you always say that you have a healthy body? Blocking an arrow can still be injured like this." She took off the old bandage. The wound healed quite well, the edges had begun to scab over.