Chapter 8 — Praying for Tham Yen Tri Binh A

In his previous life, So Lang Yen died on the sixteenth of September. There were fourteen days left before that battle, and she was still not dead. Tham Yen Tri grabbed the rabbit lamp and stuffed it into her chest, striding out of the study room. When he led the best black horse in the stable out, the eastern horizon had just brightened. Before the guard guarding the gate had time to bow, he threw himself on his horse, whipped his whip, and rushed away. Three days and three nights, at each translation station, one horse was exchanged. His hand holding the reins was ground to the point of bleeding, but he still did not stop. At sunset on the third day, the gate of the Bac Canh army appeared at the end of sight. When he arrived outside the barracks and dismounted, his legs were unsteady. The old soldier guarding the barracks called out, "His Royal Highness Seventh", he didn't have time to respond and walked straight towards the eastern gate of the citadel. From afar, I heard a voice singing the song Bac Canh, not in the right rhythm but extremely familiar. He stopped walking. So Lang Yen squatted in front of the cliff, turned his back to him, bowed his head and used a dagger to carve something into the stone. She wore an old battle robe that had been washed to a faded color, and her sideburns were swayed by the north wind. Still alive, still breathing. There are no knife marks on the face extending from the forehead to the chin. It hasn't been lying on the graveyard for seven days without anyone taking care of it. So Lang Yen seemed to sense something and turned around. Seeing his face, the dagger in her hand almost fell to the ground. “…Tham Yen Tri?” She stood up, looking at him from top to bottom. The moonlight white outfit was wrinkled and shapeless, half of her hair was gone, and her eyes were full of blood. The whole person was struggling as if he had just crawled out of the grave. "What are you doing in Bac Canh? Have you not slept for several days? Your eyes are as red as a rabbit. Are you being collected for debt? Did you fight with someone again?" Tham Yen Tri did not answer. He kept looking at her like that, watching her lips open and close to scold him, just like before. "Are you dumb? Tham Yen Tri? Hey —" "...Pass by." He said. So Lang Yen was stunned and then chuckled: "A prince like you passed through Bac Canh? Tham Yen Tri, are you sick?" He bowed his head, his throat moved slightly. "...Yes. I'm sick." So Lang Yen's smile stopped. She looked at him for a long time — wrong, too wrong. She scolded him for thirteen years, and every time he scolded him twice as much. Today she scolded him that he was sick, but he said yes. She scolded him for being mute, but he didn't argue back. "...In my tent, I have golden medicinal medicine, you can apply it yourself later." She passed him, took a few steps and turned around, "What are you doing here?" Tham Yen Tri looked at the cliff behind her. It was engraved with words, row after row, some deep and some shallow. His eyes stopped at a row. "Fourteenth battle, won. The stars in Bac Canh are brighter than De Kinh. I wonder if Tham Yen Tri will come to Bac Canh to see once in this life." He withdrew his gaze and looked at her face. "Come and see the stars in Bac Canh. Some people say they are brighter than De Kinh." So Lang Yen was stunned. She followed his gaze, turned her head to look at the cliff and then turned back, her expression a bit unnatural. But very quickly, that unnatural look was covered by the familiar hate. "What did the person without eyes say to you?" She turned around and walked back to the camp, turned her back to him, waved her hand. "It's almost here, see for yourself tonight. I have to go patrol the camp." Tham Yen Tri followed. She turned her head and glared at him: "Why are you following me?" "I'm also on patrol." Tham Yen Tri's face did not change. "What camp does a prince like you patrol?" So Lang Yen's face was filled with doubt. "Learn." So Lang Yen looked at him like he was a crazy person, then turned away and continued walking, muttering a sentence. After walking a few steps, she stopped and turned to look at him. "Tham Yen Tri, what happened to you?" Tham Yen Tri stood three steps away from her. The north wind flows into my collar,

Blowing the moonlight white outfit fluttering. His lips moved slightly and then pressed tightly. The throat moved, as if there was something stuck in the throat, neither swallowing it nor spitting it out. He was silent for too long, so long that So Lang Yen's eyebrows turned from frowning in disgust to worry. "You've said less than twenty words since just now. Before, every time you scolded me, you at least had to say as long as an essay. What happened to you? Did something happen?" He still didn't say anything. So Lang Yen has known him for thirteen years and has never seen him look like this. It wasn't that he didn't want to talk, it was that his whole body felt like something was weighing him down. The eye sockets turned red, his gaze so deep that it seemed like he was looking through her to see someone else. "...If you don't say anything then stop it." She moved her eyes, turned and walked back to the tent. The sound of footsteps behind her immediately followed. Walking through the camp, when she lifted the curtain, she leaned over to let him in. The tent is very simple, with only one bed, one table, and one chair. On the table was spread a map to replace the defenders, and in the corner were a few potions and unused bandages. She pointed to the chair and told him to sit, while she took the medicine bottle and bandage, walked over, pulled his hand, and turned his palm over. Instinctively, Tham Yen Tri wanted to retreat. "Don't move."