The night wind in Zhenbei City wrapped around the yellow sand, blowing past the eaves of the post house in gusts. Under the corridor, two lanterns swayed east and west, the character "Xu" on the paper flickering brightly and dimly.
When Xu Zhan was carried into the west wing room, the door board had already been soaked with blood.
As soon as he was placed on the wooden couch, dark red blood oozed from his severed arm again, flowing down his elbow and dyeing a large area of the coarse cloth mattress red.
"Oh my God!"
The old military doctor gasped. He had been dragged out of bed by the personal guards, still wrapped in a wrinkled cotton robe, and stumbled to the couch.
With trembling hands, he felt Xu Zhan's pulse, his fingers changing three positions in succession. The more he felt, the more anxious his old face became. After changing to the third position, the old military doctor completely dared not move.
After a long silence, the old military doctor slowly withdrew his hand, shrinking his hands into his sleeves to conceal the unstoppable slight trembling. Facing Xu Qinghuan, he bent his knees and buried his head deeply.
"Princess..." The old military doctor's voice was dry, really not knowing how to continue.
"The pulse has completely dissipated, the high fever won't recede, the wound has rotted, and the toxic gas has entered the bones and blood. Second Master's body has long been hollowed out from soaking in the water dungeon, and the dirty water poured into him now is more than medicine..." The old military doctor wiped his old tears, "This old man is incompetent, Second Master's breath... I'm afraid it can't be kept."
From beginning to end, Xu Qinghuan stood near the door of the west wing room, half of her body hidden in the shadow where the candlelight couldn't reach, not taking half a step forward, not uttering a single word.
On the couch, Xu Zhan's face was ashen with a bluish tinge, his lips cracked, every breath pitifully shallow, his chest rising and falling imperceptibly.
His vitality was visibly draining away, and he could swallow his last breath at any moment.
"Get out, all of you."
Xu Qinghuan spoke, her voice betraying neither joy nor anger.
But Li Sheng heard something wrong. Having followed this Princess for so long, it was the first time he heard a hint of a string about to snap in her voice.
Li Sheng swallowed, grabbed the old military doctor who still wanted to kowtow and beg for forgiveness, and dragged him out of the room.
Only the fine crackling of the charcoal fire and Xu Zhan's intermittent gasps remained in the room.
Xu Qinghuan closed her eyes and awakened the system deep in her sea of consciousness.
"Sys."
"I want medicine, medicine that can save Xu Zhan. Take out the good stuff you have."
The system's mechanical voice sounded after two breaths:
"Host, targeting the current injured person's severe infection, high fever, and precursors of sepsis, the preferred matching item in the database is: Penicillin."
Xu Qinghuan remained silent, waiting for the rest.
"But this item belongs to a cross-era medical product. Forcibly dropping it into the current era, the probability of triggering the heavenly Dao correction mechanism is... extremely dangerous."
The system paused.
"A special credit channel needs to be opened, this is the second time. Host, your interest from the last credit hasn't been settled yet. If this time is superimposed—"
"How much."
"The cost is immeasurable. According to the existing data model calculation, this credit will result in your future task earnings..."
"I only ask if you'll give it."
Xu Qinghuan's tone was full of determination.
The system went silent, because it was waiting for Xu Qinghuan to weigh the pros and cons, waiting for her to act like a rational transmigrator, treat Xu Zhan as a sunk cost, and continue on the main quest of conquering the world.
After all, risking a trump card for a native centurion with a crippled arm, no matter how you look at it, this wave is a huge loss.
"Sys." Xu Qinghuan's words carried a rare weariness, "Your performance, my life, and my Xu family's second brother's life are all tied to the same rope now. If he dies, don't even think about playing your grand cause."
"I'm not talking to you about heavenly Dao probabilities, nor calculating any data models."
"If the King of Hell wants someone dead at the third watch, I insist on keeping him until the fifth watch! I want the lives of the Xu family, this heavenly Dao cannot take them!"
"Give it to me!"
About dozens of seconds later, Xu Qinghuan, immersed in her mind conversing with the system, returned to reality and immediately heard a crisp "ding" in her mind.
"Special credit channel has been opened."
"The item has been dropped. Please note, Host—the cost will be implemented according to the discussed results, the consequences... are irreversible."
Two items appeared out of thin air in Xu Qinghuan's sleeve.
A transparent glazed syringe, filled with clear medicinal liquid; and a small white porcelain bottle, sealed with wax.
Without hesitation, she strode to the couch, knelt on one knee, picked up the syringe, and aimed the needle at a relatively intact vein on Xu Zhan's left arm.
Her hand was shaking.
Her ten fingers were completely out of control.
When breaking into the death row, beheading Wang Biao, forcing Deputy Lieutenant Qian to kneel, and facing thirty horse-chopping sabers, Xu Qinghuan hadn't even blinked an eyelid.
At this moment, she was trembling so much she couldn't hold the syringe steady.
Imitating the movements she had seen in the hospital before transmigrating into the book, the needle tip pressed against the surface of the skin twice before piercing the vein, and the transparent medicinal liquid was slowly pushed into the bloodstream.
After pushing in the last drop, she pulled out the needle and pressed a relatively clean cotton cloth against the needle hole.
Then, she knocked open the wax seal of the white porcelain bottle with one hand, poured out two pure white pills, and forced them into Xu Zhan's cracked mouth. She also picked up the cold water on the table and poured it down his mouth bit by bit.
Xu Zhan's Adam's apple moved slightly, and he swallowed it.
Xu Qinghuan put the coarse porcelain bowl back on the table, the bottom of the bowl hitting the wooden table with a muffled thud.
Xu Qinghuan lowered her eyes to look at her hands.
Her ten fingers were trembling incessantly, her fingertips turning pale, all color drained.
Some invisible thing was being forcibly stripped from Xu Qinghuan's body, bringing intense pain.
Xu Qinghuan propped her hands on the edge of the table, her knees softening and almost kneeling down. Xu Qinghuan dug into the corner of the table, forcibly enduring this wave of backlash.
Xu Qinghuan looked back at the couch.
He was still breathing.
A fraction longer... than just now.
Xu Qinghuan withdrew her gaze, picked up the discarded glazed syringe, walked to the charcoal brazier, crouched down, and threw it into the red-hot silver charcoal.
When the glaze met the fierce fire, it made a faint crisp sound, immediately breaking into several pieces, the edges rapidly twisting and melting under the high temperature. Xu Qinghuan grabbed the fire tongs, mashed all the residue deep into the charcoal fire, and threw in the cotton cloth used to wipe the bloodstains as well.
The flames burned the cotton cloth, raising a burnt smell.
Xu Qinghuan stared dead at the flames.
Then, Xu Qinghuan suddenly stood up, smoothed the wrinkles on her cuffs, strode to the door, and pulled it open.
Beside the pillar in the corridor outside the door, Li Sheng opened his mouth, caught sight of Xu Qinghuan's calm eyes, and swallowed his words back into his stomach.
"Tell that old man to roll in."
Xu Qinghuan's tone had returned to its usual cold calmness.
"Have him check the pulse again."
After speaking, Xu Qinghuan stepped towards the end of the corridor.
Li Sheng watched that slender but upright back, not daring to ask half a word more, turned around and kicked awake the old military doctor dozing at the base of the wall, and pushed him into the room.
Xu Qinghuan walked to the end of the corridor, leaning against the cold brick wall, her hands tucked into her sleeves.
Xu Qinghuan raised her eyes to look at the sky.
The night sky of Zhenbei City was cloudless, densely packed with cold stars, exuding a chilling murderous intent. The night wind poured down her collar, making Xu Qinghuan instinctively shrink back from the cold.
From the west wing room behind her, a sharp cry of alarm suddenly rang out.
It was that old military doctor.
His voice was full of shock, transmitting through the crack in the door, echoing in the night—
"Good heavens! The high fever... it's broken?! The pulse... the pulse is stabilizing! Th-this... just what kind of divine miracle is this?!"
