Han Lei stepped forward, grabbing the arm of the young captain who was raising his hand, fearing that the cold blade above might fall.
"Please trust my professional judgment. I can't explain it to you right now. Just one day, one day. If we don't see results tomorrow, then you can send them off, okay?"
Her eyes looked pleadingly at the young captain and the row of soldiers.
"Maybe they can fight alongside you in the future. Trust me, don't give up, even if there is only a glimmer of hope."
"Well..." The young captain seemed wavering.
At this moment, a soldier holding a knife couldn't bear it and, with red eyes, helped Han Lei plead, "Centurion, please agree! Our brothers are lives too! Saving them is surely better than sending them off!"
"Yes! Save them!"
"Agree, centurion."
A row of soldiers followed along with their pleas.
"Then... alright!" The young captain hesitated for a moment, finally said: "Since it's this way, we'll stay and help."
"Thank you, thank you." Han Lei heaved a sigh of relief and repeatedly thanked the young captain.
The little soldier responsible for setting up tents returned with people, manpower increased, and dozens of tents were quickly pitched.
Han Lei directed people to carry the wounded who still could be saved into the tents, covering them with cotton quilts.
Each tent housed four wounded, with a brazier in the middle, quickly warming the tent.
Initially, fluids were administered, collectively simultaneously reducing inflammation, fighting infection, and fever.
Then, just like in the large tent, the simple task of cleaning wounds was handed over to helper soldiers, allowing Han Lei to begin the local anesthesia, removal of necrotic tissue, disinfection, sewing, and bandaging.
Han Lei swiftly moved between tents, repeating these complex and meticulous tasks.
No blood tests, no X-rays, no complex examinations.
Earlier, when checking breathing, she had looked at each one. Based on her experience, they were all sword wounds, not complex.
The complexity was in the wound infections and persistent high fever.
Those in the big tent were lightly wounded, temporarily problem-free after alcohol disinfection. Here was her main battlefield.
She needed to snatch time from death, saving as many as she could.
Zhao Zun appeared outside the big tent, just in time to see Han Lei's busy figure.
He sat there in his wheelchair from afar, watching her shuttle amongst the wounded, thinking how beautiful Han Lei looked in her serious busyness!
Until Ping Chuan hurriedly came to report with an injured arm.
"Prince, scouts have sent word; the Turkic forces have retreated a hundred miles away."
Zhao Zun glanced sidelong at Ping Chuan, taking a heavy sigh of relief.
The Turkic retreating a hundred miles within a day meant they were truly retreating.
But why did the Turkic suddenly attack again after already attacking once post-winter? Since an attack had been initiated, why retreat suddenly?
Could it be, was it merely to ambush him?
Zhao Zun was perplexed.
"Scout again!" Zhao Zun commanded coldly.
"Yes!" Ping Chuan took orders and left.
...
Time passed second by second, and Han Lei, along with several soldiers responsible for delivering medicine and equipment, were dizzyingly busy.
As the first tendril of darkness gradually enveloped this land baptized by war flames, candlelight was lit in the tents.
By the dim candlelight, Han Lei checked one by one; all the wounded administering fluid remarkably began stabilizing their vital signs. Although still weak or in a coma, that light on the brink of vanishing reignited again.
Candle flames flickered, illuminating Han Lei's thin but busy figure.
As a physician, though accustomed to life and death, she would never allow these soldiers' lives to escape from her hands.
They were warriors defending home and country, all in their prime, all pillars of their families!
Hence, every second counted!
Mr. He came to report the recorded injury situation, but she had no time for it.
Zhao Zun sent someone with a simple dinner, but she couldn't spare time to eat.
Outside, the night grew deeper, which she couldn't recognize at all.
Apart from drinking water, she spun around tirelessly like a spinning top.
Holding only one belief in her mind: Save him! Save him!
Until the morning light squeezed through the tent curtains, Han Lei sutured the final wound, and once her supporting belief dissipated, she suddenly felt a wave of dizziness.
After half a day and a full night of work, Han Lei exhaustedly collapsed. After bandaging, she couldn't help but fall asleep leaning against the wounded in front of her.
The curtain lifted, Zhao Zun appeared behind Han Lei. Ping Chuan, still with an injured arm, was pushing the wheelchair, followed by a small soldier carrying a tray with a bowl of porridge, a bun, and a small plate of vegetables.
"Hey! I hoped you'd serve under my tents, but I didn't intend for you to work yourself to death!"
Zhao Zun took off an embroidered black cloak, placing it on Han Lei's shoulders, sighing slightly. A hint of heartache flickered in his eyes.
Last night, when he returned, Han Lei was still busy, unexpectedly working through the night.
Yesterday, he saw that scene. The reason he didn't stop Han Lei from saving those dying abandoned soldiers was actually twofold.
First, by convention, these already dead and dying soldiers, once counted, were already reported as casualties to the court. Even if Han Lei couldn't save a single one, things wouldn't worsen.
Second, he wanted to see just how skillful Han Lei was. If she could save even one soldier pronounced dead, she would be someone who brings the dead back to life!
If Han Lei possessed such skill, then the Zhao Family Army's casualties would drastically reduce in the future.
"Prince, look at this..."
Ping Chuan felt troubled. His master had come personally to deliver breakfast, and Miss Han had fallen asleep right there; how should he handle this?
"Call in some people, use a stretcher to take her to my tent to rest, it's warmer there."
"Yes!"
Ping Chuan paused then immediately turned to go out but heard Zhao Zun continuing his orders.
"Tell them to be gentle, don't wake Miss Han, let her have a good sleep."
"Ah! Okay!"
Ping Chuan quickly returned with several soldiers carrying stretchers.
Taking out a stretcher on the open ground, Ping Chuan glanced at Zhao Zun, instructing, "Be gentle, gentle. If you wake Miss Han, beware I'll skin you."
The soldiers nodded silently, gently placing Han Lei onto the stretcher, Zhao Zun himself covered her with a cloak, then waved for the soldiers to carry her out.
"Let's go check the other tents!"
Zhao Zun glanced around the tent at the four wounded lying there, eyes closed, uncertain if they were dead or alive, and tapped the wheelchair.
"Yes!"
Ping Chuan pushed the wheelchair, preparing to go to the next tent.
Zhao Zun, as if remembering something, suddenly turned around and waved to the soldier holding the tray.
"Take the breakfast back to the kitchen, have someone ready to wait. When Miss Han wakes, send over a hot meal."