Chapter 24 — The Medicine Bearer Through the Chaos

Nameless Distance

The celebration party took place right in the middle of the command camp, temporarily set up with large tarpaulins stretched together, hanging red lanterns to celebrate victory after the last successful defense before winter came. Lu Bat stood up to announce the court's decision: Ve Thanh Phong was officially appointed as the second deputy general of Long Mon pass, equal to himself, in charge of the entire Eastern defense line.

Cheers rang out throughout the barracks, soldiers raised cups of wine to congratulate the young commander whom they had followed throughout the recent fierce battles. Tinh Yen stood in the far corner of the party, with Nhuoc Lan, wearing a simple medical gown, looking at Thanh Phong in his new armor, deputy general's badge sparkling on his shoulder, surrounded by generals and mandarins who came to congratulate him.

"Master Thanh Phong looks completely different now." Nhuoc Lan spoke softly, taking a sip of light wine. "I still remember a few months ago, he was still a bedridden injured officer. Now he is a deputy general on the same level as Lord Lu."

"YES." Tinh Yen replied, her voice somewhat low, her eyes still following the familiar figure among the crowd of shiny armor.

A civil servant from Thanh Duong palace, sent to attend the celebration ceremony on behalf of the local court, approached Thanh Phong, smiled and said something, then pointed to a young woman wearing silk and brocade standing next to him - perhaps the daughter of a certain noble family brought here to get acquainted. Thanh Phong bowed his head in formal greeting, keeping the necessary ritual distance, but that scene still made Tinh Yen's heart suddenly tighten for no reason.

"Are you jealous?" Nhuoc Lan glanced at her, her voice gently teasing.

"That's not true." Tinh Yen quickly replied, but she herself was not sure whether what she said was completely sincere or not. "It's just... looking at that scene, I realized more clearly how different your world is from mine."

Nhuoc Lan was silent for a moment, then placed her hand on her shoulder, her voice becoming more serious than usual. "I don't know much about love, but I know one thing - a child of a Marquis family, no matter how much he or she falls in love with a cloth-dressed maid, will eventually have to marry the right man. That's the age-old rule of noble lineages. You should be mentally prepared for that, don't let yourself be too deeply heartbroken."

Nhuoc Lan's words, even though they came from good intentions, were like a needle pricking straight into the place where Tinh Yen had been deliberately avoiding and not wanting to face each other for many months. She nodded, did not respond, just quietly left the party earlier than planned, using the excuse that she had to stay overnight in the quarantine area.

As she walked past the edge of the party, she accidentally caught Thanh Phong's eyes from afar. He was standing in the middle of the guests, holding a glass of wine in his hand according to protocol, but his eyes glanced over the head of the lady in silk who was talking to him, stopping at her figure disappearing behind the tent canvas. In that short moment, he slightly tilted his head, as if to ask if she was okay, but Tinh Yen only smiled wryly and turned away quickly, afraid that if she looked another moment, she would no longer have the courage to continue walking towards her familiar dark quarantine area. All the way back, the sounds of musical instruments and laughter from the party still echoed behind her, getting farther and farther away, like a world completely different from hers, even though they were only a few hundred steps apart.

A few days later, an unexpected opportunity appeared. Ky Ba Nghiem summoned all the probationary doctors to a mid-term exam - not an official exam, but an opportunity for senior doctors in the hospital to evaluate the capabilities of the new probationary class, including Tinh Yen, Nhuoc Lan and Vu Khac Tuan.

The test is a hypothetical case: a soldier is hit by a poisoned arrow, has vague symptoms of unknown poison, must diagnose and propose a treatment plan in a short time in front of three senior medical examiners, including Ky Ba Nghiem.

Vu Khac Tuan presented first, based on what was taught in official military medical books - identifying wounds, stopping bleeding, using common antidotes. The presentation was coherent, followed the correct procedure, and the judges nodded in approval.

When it was Tinh Yen's turn, she stepped up, looked closely at the wound simulation drawn on a large piece of leather, observed the symptoms listed: mild convulsions, dilated pupils, unusually rapid swelling of the wound with purple around the wound.

"This is not an ordinary poison name." She spoke, her voice slow but steady. "The common poison of Bac Dich's arrows often causes rapid local necrosis but rarely causes convulsions in the whole body. These symptoms are similar to the poison from a climbing plant growing in the high mountains in the North, popularly called 'fishing soul dong' - a rare poison that Northern Dip soldiers impregnate arrows and only use for important targets, because it is very expensive to make."

All three judges exchanged surprised looks. One of them, the oldest physician, asked further: "If it was true, how would the treatment be different?"

"We must use a specialized antidote combining licorice, crushed green beans and a small amount of hong kong, drink it within the first half hour and at the same time inject it at the Thap Tuyen acupuncture point to reduce the toxic gas rushing to the heart." Tinh Yen replied without hesitation, every word was what she had memorized from the Bach Thao Chan Sutra, and had read it over and over again under the light of an oil lamp every night after tiring errands. "If we only use a common antidote like Brother Tuan just described, I'm afraid the patient won't last more than an hour."

The atmosphere in the examination room suddenly became quiet. Vu Khac Tuan stood next to her, his face red, both because he was embarrassed and because he couldn't deny the accuracy of her explanation.

Ky Ba Nghiem lightly tapped his finger on the letter, his eyes looking at Tinh Yen with an unpredictable expression - not exactly surprise, but more like a confirmation of what he had long suspected. "The spirit plant is a rare poison, even many veteran doctors in the hospital have never heard of it. Where did you learn this from?"

"From the Hundred Herbs Chan Sutra, the medical book left by my master." Tinh Yen replied. "In there is a record of a case that someone met many years ago, when he was still... when he was a physician in another place."

She deliberately did not clearly say "when he was a royal physician in the Royal Hospital", but Ky Ba Nghiem's eyes flashed with understanding, as if he had personally filled that void in his mind.

"Okay, today's exam is over." He announced, standing up. "Quyen Nhuoc Lan, good practical skills, needs to improve theory. Vu Khac Tuan, standard procedure, but inflexible when dealing with unusual cases. Do Tinh Yen..."

He stopped for a moment, looking straight at her.

"From now on, you are allowed to participate in consultations with official medical students, even though you are still on probation. I want to see how well you can apply theory into practice."

That was the first step, although small, but enough for Tinh Yen to feel the door gradually opening in front of her. Stepping out of the examination room, she encountered Vu Khac Tuan who was waiting in the hallway. His expression was no longer hostile as before, but had a reluctant expression of kindness.

"How many books have you read to remember such a rare poison?" He asked, his voice no longer harsh.

"I don't read many books." Tinh Yen answered honestly. "I only read one book, but I read it over and over again so many times that I knew every page by heart."

Vu Khac Tuan remained silent, nodded slightly, then walked away without saying anything else - but for the first time since she arrived at the military hospital, it was no longer a reluctant nod, but a silent acknowledgment between two people pursuing a harsh profession.

Nhuoc Lan immediately ran to hug her, shouting with joy as if she had just passed the exam. "You see, I told you, if you do your job well, everything will change! Tonight I have to invite you a bowl of green bean soup, as a way to congratulate you on being allowed to consult."

"Don't waste your money, it's better to save it and buy more lamp oil." Tinh Yen smiled, even though inside she couldn't hide the small joy that was spreading. During the past three weeks, this is the first time she feels that the effort she has put in is not going down the drain, that the path she has chosen, although thorny, is still gradually leading to where it needs to go.

That night, when returning to the tent to rest, Tinh Yen took out the Bach Thao Chan Sutra, turned to the page recording the soul dong verse, and looked at his master's familiar handwriting. On the margin of the page there was a small line he once added, the ink had faded: "I met this case in the twelfth year of Yongkang, when a court official was hit by a poisoned arrow in a failed assassination attempt." She read that line over and over again, a new question quietly arose in her heart: who committed that assassination, and whether it had anything to do with the reason why the master had to leave the Royal Hospital. But the night was late, and the answer, if there was any, still lies far ahead.