Seizing the moment when Gu Zhao woke up, Xie Ze quickly poured the anesthetic into his mouth.
Since Zhu Qingyu had told him to lie still, not even needing Xiong Kun to hold him down, Gu Zhao obediently lay down after drinking the medicine, lying neatly and peacefully.
Throughout the rest of the treatment, Gu Zhao never woke again.
Because his wound was a through-and-through injury, both cleaning and stitching it were extremely complicated. Zhu Qingyu spent a long time sewing him up, applying medicine, and bandaging him.
When she tied off the last strip of gauze and looked up, she found the entire clinic so quiet that even breathing seemed inaudible.
Zhu Qingyu smiled at everyone:
“It’s done.”
With those words, the clinic seemed to come alive again, as if people finally dared to breathe.
Xiong Kun looked at Gu Zhao, still unconscious on the bed, and asked eagerly:
“Lord Zhu, is Vice Minister Gu out of danger?”
In truth, cleaning and stitching the wound was only the first step; infection during healing was the deadliest threat.
But whether to reassure Xiong Kun or herself, Zhu Qingyu—who never took her medical skills for granted, even when treating the Emperor in front of the Empress Dowager, and never gave absolute assurances—now declared confidently:
“He will be fine. He will.”
Xiong Kun collapsed to the ground, the tension that had gripped him the entire journey finally released:
“Ah, thank goodness!”
Zhu Qingyu washed her hands in a brass basin. As she dried them with a cloth, a small purple flower slipped from her sleeve.
She quickly picked it up, tucked it deep into her sleeve, and said to Xie Ze:
“Young Marquis, please arrange for Vice Minister Gu to be moved to the side hall for recovery. My place here is too messy for a patient to rest.”
Xiong Kun jumped up at once:
“I’ll do it, I’ll do it—it’s my duty. I wouldn’t trouble the Young Marquis.”
Zhu Qingyu dried her hands and said to Xiong Kun:
“Official Xiong, sit here first. Let me look at your injuries.”
Xiong Kun’s clothes also bore obvious fresh bloodstains, which Zhu Qingyu had noticed earlier.
Upon hearing that Xiong Kun had been wounded, Xie Ze quickly added:
“Exactly. Vice Minister Gu is my cousin, so it’s only right that I take care of him.”
Xiong Kun had been injured when he seized the Left Virtuous King’s weapon. The iron teeth of the long spear were razor-sharp, and though he had armor for protection, he threw himself forward with all his strength, being the first to charge. Even so, the iron teeth had cut into him badly.
But His Lordship’s injuries were so severe that Xiong Kun had only hastily applied some wound powder on himself during the journey, too preoccupied to tend to his own wounds, never expecting Lord Zhu to notice.
After treating Xiong Kun’s wounds and prescribing medicine for both him and Gu Zhao, Zhu Qingyu had no moment to rest before Lord Sun arrived.
Without waiting for Lord Sun to speak, Zhu Qingyu picked up her medical kit and said:
“Su Mu, Lin Lan—take charge of the clinic today. If Vice Minister Gu’s condition changes, send someone immediately to General Sun’s camp to find me. Dashan, come with me.”
Although Gu Zhao’s condition was far from stable and could worsen at any moment due to wound infection, and Zhu Qingyu desperately wanted to stay by his side,
the battlefield was not one man’s fight, nor was Gu Zhao the only one fighting for the nation. Many others had been wounded.
With the army’s return, not only Gu Zhao needed her—many others did as well. Saving lives and healing the injured was her duty as a physician.
Zhu Qingyu followed Lord Sun to another military camp. In this campaign, the lightly wounded soldiers had already been treated by the army doctors, but those with severe injuries whose conditions baffled the doctors had led Lord Sun to seek Zhu Qingyu’s help.
She worked from daytime into the dead of night. On her way back, leaning against the carriage wall, Zhu Qingyu was so exhausted she could barely lift her arms. With her eyes closed, she reached into her sleeve and touched the little purple flower, thinking:
“No news is good news—it means he’s stable.”
But rational thought aside, the closer she got to camp, the more anxious she became, fearing that something might have happened in her absence. So instead of returning to her clinic, she headed straight for the side hall.
In the bedchamber of the side hall, Xiong Kun was drowsily keeping watch over Gu Zhao. Hearing Zhu Qingyu’s footsteps, he jolted awake.
Zhu Qingyu first checked on Gu Zhao, then said to Xiong Kun:
“Official Xiong, you’re still injured and need to rest. Go get some sleep. The side room has everything you need—Grand General Wen stayed there while recovering a few days ago, and his personal guards lived in it.”
Earlier, Xie Ze had said the same thing, even arranging for someone to watch over Gu Zhao and urging Xiong Kun to rest.
But leaving His Lordship, still unconscious, alone in the side hall made Xiong Kun uneasy; trusting anyone else made him even more nervous. That was why, despite his own injuries, he insisted on staying.
As if reading his mind, Zhu Qingyu added:
“Don’t worry. I’ll stay here tonight. There are attendants in the outer room, and guards outside as well.”
Coming from Lord Zhu, those words set Xiong Kun’s mind at ease.
And privately, he felt that His Lordship might prefer Lord Zhu’s company over his own guard. So he bowed and said:
“Then I’ll come back tomorrow morning. Thank you, Lord Zhu.”
After Xiong Kun left, Zhu Qingyu took Gu Zhao’s pulse again.
Vice Minister Gu had a strong constitution. Though he had been on the brink of death, once the wound was stitched and the medicine taken, in less than a day his pulse had already stabilized somewhat.
She felt his forehead—still hot, but better than before.
After covering him with a blanket, Zhu Qingyu sat by Gu Zhao’s bedside, silently watching him for a while.
Clearly, Xie Ze had arranged for someone to take good care of him: his face had been washed, his clothes changed, his hair combed—he was tidy and clean. If one ignored his wound, he looked as though he were merely asleep.
After days of injury, Gu Zhao’s face seemed a little thinner.
Zhu Qingyu looked at him a moment longer, then reached out, touched his face, leaned down, and gently kissed his cheek:
“Get well soon, my Vice Minister Gu.”
Just as she was about to straighten up, someone caught her hand.
Gu Zhao’s face was inches away. His eyes were already open, a smile playing on his lips:
“As you command, my Lord Zhu.”
