Chapter 129 -
Wenzhe stared at her, his brow furrowing as his jaw set in a hard line. "I said it’s fine, Yueqing. Go back to your tent. I don’t need you playing doctor over a surface graze."
He started to rise from the stool, his dark mood still hovering over him like a storm cloud.
Yueqing didn’t argue with words. Instead, she stepped straight into his space, clamped her hand down firmly onto his uninjured shoulder, and shoved him back down with an absurd amount of force.
Wenzhe blinked, caught entirely off guard by her sudden physical hostility. Before he could speak, Yueqing leaned down, grabbed the collar of his inner dark robe, and with a clean, violent rip, tore the fabric straight down his left side, completely exposing his chest and bloody arm to the cold air.
"Sit down and stop talking," Yueqing said, her voice dropping into a flat, deadly command.
Wenzhe sat there completely stunned, his torn robe hanging off his shoulder while he stared up at her.
[This stubborn, arrogant block of wood!] her inner voice fumed, her mind practically throwing a heavy wooden chair across the room in rage. [He thinks he’s the only one who knows how things work around here! Just because I’m playing the villainess doesn’t mean I’m completely useless!]
Without turning around, Yueqing raised her voice toward the tent flap. "Lu Yue! Bring me the brass medical box, clean boiled water, alcohol, and a roll of fine needle thread from the supply tent right now!"
"Right away, Young Madam!" Lu Yue shouted from outside, her fast footsteps instantly fading into the distance.
Wenzhe narrowed his eyes at her, though he didn’t try to stand up again. "Where did you learn to order guards around for surgical tools?"
"None of your business," Yueqing replied coolly, grabbing a dry cloth to press against the edges of the cut to slow the bleeding.
In one of her missions where her assigned persona was the daughter of a renowned imperial physician. To pull off the disguise seamlessly, she had been forced to memorize trauma care, field medicine, and wound sterilization until she could stitch up a gash with her eyes closed.
Within minutes, Lu Yue burst back inside, setting down a heavy iron tray loaded with medical supplies, steam rising from a kettle of hot water.
"Leave us," Yueqing ordered her guard flatly.
Lu Yue bowed quickly and ducked back outside, leaving the tent in total quiet.
Yueqing didn’t waste a second. She grabbed a small bottle of high-proof spirits, unstoppered it, and poured a generous amount straight over the open cut on Wenzhe’s arm.
Wenzhe’s entire body went rigid. His muscles coiled like steel springs and a sharp, harsh gasp hitched in his throat, his right hand instantly gripping the wooden edge of the stool so hard the timber groaned under his knuckles.
"Painful?" Yueqing asked, her expression entirely smooth and unbothered as she wiped away the dirty blood with a soaked cloth. "Good. That’s for making me walk all the way out here in the snow."
[Hold on, hold on! Don’t look at his face!] her inner persona panicked, averting its eyes internally. [Why does he have to look so rugged with his robe torn open like that?! System Nine, block my vision! I am performing surgery, not inspecting his chest muscles!]
[System 009: Medical Scan: Wound successfully cleaned. Infection risk reduced by 95%. Host’s heart rate: 120 BPM. Reason: Excessive proximity to target’s bare shoulder.]
[SHUT UP, NINE!]
Outwardly, Yueqing’s hands were steady as ice. She threaded a curved silver needle with silk, held it over a small oil flame for two seconds, and pressed her fingers against the skin near his wound to hold it tight.
"This is going to sting," she said in her calm, flat tone, not waiting for his consent before piercing the needle through the raw skin.
Wenzhe didn’t make a single sound this time. His dark eyes remained fixed entirely on her face, watching her focused, sharp gaze, the precise way her fingers moved, and the stubborn tilt of her chin. The terrifying rage that had consumed him all evening slowly began to subside, replaced by a deep, quiet intensity as he watched his wife fix him up without a single tear or hesitation.
"You’re full of surprises, Su Yueqing," Wenzhe murmured softly, his voice low against the quiet crackle of the oil lamp.
"And you’re full of blood," Yueqing replied without looking up, pulling the thread tight and tying a neat, professional knot. "Keep quiet until I’m done."
Yueqing tied off the final knot with a quick pull, clipping the thread short with small iron scissors. She grabbed a fresh roll of white cloth and wrapped his arm tightly, tucking the end neatly under the bandage.
The scary, dangerous anger that Wenzhe had been carrying all night was completely gone. The tightness left his broad shoulders, and he leaned back slightly, his dark eyes fixed entirely on her.
Instead of walking away, Yueqing tossed the messy cloths onto the tray. She turned around, took two steps, and hopped right up to sit on the edge of the wooden map table, directly in front of him.
Sitting higher up on the table, her boots dangling close to his knees, she leaned forward. She placed her hands on the wood beside her hips, bringing her face right in front of his.
She kept her face totally smooth and calm, looking straight into his eyes.
"Are you fine?" Yueqing asked flatly.
[Because if you pass out or go crazy with anger, I’m the one who has to clean up this mess!] her mind yelled in panic, her inner persona pacing back and forth in total stress. [Tell me you’re fine! Say something, you stubborn block of wood!]
Wenzhe stared at her for a long, quiet moment. Sitting right over him like that, her dark blue outfit slightly messy and her sharp eyes looking down at him, she had his complete attention.
Slowly, Wenzhe reached up with his good right hand. His warm, rough fingers gently touched the side of her neck, his thumb resting right over her fast, beating pulse.
"I lost three men tonight, Yueqing," Wenzhe said, his voice dropping into a low, rough whisper. "And there is a traitor hiding in my army."
He leaned forward, resting his forehead lightly against her waist, letting out a long, heavy breath he had been holding all night.
"But my arm is fixed," he added softly, his hand holding her neck gently to keep her close. "And you are sitting right here. So... I will be fine."
Yueqing’s hands gripped the edge of the table tighter. Her body went stiff for a second when he rested against her waist, but she didn’t push him away.
[System Nine...] her inner voice whispered softly, completely losing its mean attitude. [He is actually really sad... what do you think I can do to help?]