Chapter 25 — The Medicine Bearer Through the Chaos

The Battle Drums Ring Again

The first winter Tinh Yen experienced at Long Mon pass brought a cold that was completely different from the wet cold along the coast of Lach Dua - dry, sharp, cutting into the skin like a thin blade every time the wind from the Northern steppe blew through the ravine. It is rumored that Bac Dich did not fight in the winter, because their horses needed time to rest and store fat, because the yellowed grasslands were not enough to feed the herd of cattle following the army. But this year, all the rumors were wrong.

The sound of battle drums rang out in the middle of the night, more intense and urgent than any time Tinh Yen had heard since arriving at this barracks. She jumped up from the bed, her hand reflexively reaching for the medicine bag placed at the bedside - a habit she had kept since the days when she followed her master as a doctor in the middle of battle.

"Great Khan Chai Phong personally led the army!" A soldier hurriedly ran across the medical tent, shouting loudly for everyone to hear. "He led his army around the western mountain road, avoiding the forward guard post, and is now close to the truth!"

Nhuoc Lan rushed out of the next tent, her hair had not yet been tied into a bun, her face pale. "A surprise attack in the middle of winter? Who would have expected this."

"There's no time for surprises anymore." Tinh Yen replied, pulling her friend's hand and running towards the main military hospital. "We must prepare now, this wave will definitely be heavier than anything we have ever seen."

Ky Ba Nghiem was already present at the military hospital, standing in the middle of the yard, giving clear orders to each group of doctors to assign positions. The flickering torchlight shone on his face, strangely solemn and calm amid the chaos that was gradually spreading throughout the barracks.

"Do Tinh Yen and Quyen Nhuoc Lan are in charge of the first reception area, classifying wounded soldiers according to the level of danger before moving into the treatment area." He ordered, his voice ringing like a bronze bell. "Vu Khac Tuan, come with me to the surgery area and prepare instruments for the most serious cases."

Tinh Yen nodded, rushed to the assigned position, set up a temporary triage table with wooden planks, rearranged the hemostatic drugs and bandages in the order of easiest to get in an emergency situation - the first lesson Nhuoc Lan taught her was still effective when it was most needed.

The fire from the sincere side began to flare up, dyeing the night sky a bright red orange, the sound of clashing weapons, shouting, and neighing horses echoed closer and closer from afar. Not long after, the first stretchers began to be carried back, opening the door to a long night with no end in sight.

"This person was hit by an arrow in the shoulder, the wound is not deep, move to the waiting area!" Tinh Yen shouted loudly, quickly examining a young soldier, marking him with a piece of yellow cloth tied to his wrist — the symbol for medium priority, the classification system Ky Ba Nghiem had taught the entire team just a few short days before, just in case.

"This person!" Nhuoc Lan shouted from the other stretcher, her voice full of urgency. "Stomach was stabbed, intestines protruding out, immediately transfer to the surgery area, without delay!"

Tinh Yen rushed to assist, tying a piece of red cloth - the most dangerous symbol - to the wrist of the soldier who was groaning in pain. The two of them, carrying the stretcher, quickly ran into the surgery area where Ky Ba Nghiem and senior doctors were waiting.

The night passed in a never-ending whirlwind of blood, screams, and split-second decisions. In some cases, just a moment of misclassification can cause a person's life to be lost forever. Tinh Yen learned, that night, a new lesson that no medical book can completely teach - the necessary cruelty of having to choose who gets saved first, who has to wait, and sometimes, who has no hope of being saved anymore.

Near the third watch, the surgical area reported a shortage of people, and a senior physician collapsed from exhaustion while treating a case of broken ribs that punctured a lung. Ky Ba Nghiem shouted loudly outside the reception area, his voice hoarse from screaming for several hours: "Whoever has the skills to suture deep wounds, come in now!"

Tinh Yen did not hesitate, handed over the triage table to a soldier who had just been dispatched to assist, and rushed straight into the surgery area. The patient lying on the table was a captain in his thirties, his broken ribs pierced deep into his chest cavity, each breath brought with him a terrifying wheezing sound, pink foam bubbling at the corners of his mouth - a sign that his lungs were seriously damaged.

"You must widen the wound and drain all the blood from the chest cavity before stitching the ribs, otherwise air will get in and completely collapse the lung!" Ky Ba Nghiem ordered, his hands were shaking slightly because he had been standing for surgery continuously without stopping. "Do Tinh Yen, hold the ball clamp tightly, don't let it deviate even an inch."

Tinh Yen held the tools tightly, her hands did not tremble even though her whole body was tired from fatigue, her eyes glued to Ky Ba Nghiem's every move, remembering every smallest detail - how he treated the torn edge of the lung, how he sewed each layer of tissue in order from the inside out to avoid infection, how he did it while instructing her on the reason behind each move, as if in the midst of that emergency, he still did not forget his role as a teacher. When the last stitch was closed and the captain's breathing gradually returned, although still weak, Tinh Yen realized that sweat had soaked the back of her shirt, not because of the heat, but because of the suffocating tension throughout the whole process.

"Good." Ky Ba Nghiem only said one word, but the look he looked at her through the cloth mask was enough to say more than any compliment. He did not have time to say more, he turned to the next patient being carried in, and Tinh Yen also immediately returned to his position, his hands still stained with blood that had not yet been washed.

"Miss, help me, don't let me die..." A weak voice rang out from a stretcher that had just been carried. The young soldier, probably no more than eighteen years old, had blood soaking half of his body, his face was pale from losing too much blood.

Tinh Yen knelt down to do a quick check, her heart sank when she realized the wound was too deep, the aorta had been severed, there was no way to save it even if she immediately went into surgery. She held the young soldier's cold hand, trying to keep her voice as calm as possible.

"Don't worry, I'm here with you." She said, even though in her heart she knew she couldn't lie that everything would be okay. That's another lesson my master once taught — sometimes, what a physician can give is not life, but just a warm hand in the last moments.

The young soldier looked at her, his eyes gradually blurred, whispered something about his old mother back home who had not yet had time to tell her, then fell silent in her arms. Tinh Yen closed his eyes, put his hand on his chest to make a short prayer sign according to border customs, then stood up, quickly wiped away the tears that had just escaped, and turned back to the waiting stretcher.

There was no time to grieve fully in the middle of a night like this. She learned to suppress that pain in a deep corner of her heart, saving it for the rare quiet moments later, but right now, ahead, there were still dozens, hundreds of other people waiting for her hands.

Near morning, when the dawn light began to glimmer through the gun smoke still lingering in the sky, news came from the front line: Dong Lam's army had repelled Truy Phong's first attack, but he did not retreat completely, but only temporarily consolidated his forces a few miles away from the citadel, a clear sign that this was just the opening act of a much larger campaign.

Tinh Yen stood in the middle of the reception area, looking around at the long line of wounded soldiers still waiting to be treated, sweat and blood drenched in her medical uniform, her hands shaking from exhaustion but not yet allowed to stop. Nhuoc Lan leaned on her shoulder for a moment, both of them said nothing, just stood there to regain some strength before continuing the endless grind of a new day, when the next stretchers began to appear again from the sincere side.

In the distance, at the camp gate, a group of cavalry had just returned from the defensive line, dust and dried blood clung to their armor. Tinh Yen looked between the rows of people, her heart pounding until she recognized the familiar back of Thanh Phong dismounting his horse. Although there were a few small scratches on his cheekbones, he was still standing firmly, ordering the soldiers under his command to take care of the ranks before resting. The two people's eyes met for a brief moment amidst the chaos, not having time to exchange a word, just a slight nod was enough for both of them to know that the other person was still there, still alive, in the middle of a night where death had come close too many times to be taken for granted.

She returned to work, her heart both relieved and heavy, understanding that tonight was just the beginning, and in the coming days, when Truy Phong led the army back with full strength, there were many longer nights like this waiting ahead.