16 How to Settle In

The next day, the sky was graced once more by a glowing red sun, offering a touch of warmth to the cold and desolate earth.

Han Lei rose early and used the silver coins rewarded by the system to buy several sets of fleece-lined sportswear. To avoid looking too out of place, she also purchased a heavy cloak typical of this era to wear over the outfits.

After preparing herself, Han Lei slung the first aid kit over her shoulder and made her way to Zhao Zun’s large tent next door.

With the guard’s permission at the entrance, Han Lei stepped confidently inside.

Zhao Zun was seated at the desk, his brow furrowed as he focused intently on a slip of paper in his hand. Hearing footsteps, he quickly pressed a book over the note.

When he looked up, his eyes instantly brightened as Han Lei gracefully entered the tent.

Today, Han Lei had swapped her camouflage for an ancient fur-collared cloak. The pristine white fur gently brushed against her neat bob haircut, blending modern and ancient elements in a strangely harmonious way. The sharpness of her short hair and the flowing cloak gave the impression of a time traveler, stepping into the river of history with a hint of rebellious smile.

“You’re here,” Zhao Zun said softly, a subtle tenderness in his voice.

Han Lei smiled faintly and approached him, whispering, “I’m here to remove your stitches. After that, you can get your wound wet.”

“All right.”

Zhao Zun lifted his robe and turned his face aside, allowing Han Lei to work.

It wasn’t that he was afraid to look, but in this era, the barrier between men and women was a chasm. Every time his dressing was changed, Ping Chuan stood nearby and was ordered to look away. Though Han Lei was a doctor, she was still a woman after all.

Once the stitches were removed, Han Lei packed up her tools. Zhao Zun then retrieved a bundle from under the table and placed it before her.

“This is something I specially had someone buy in the city for you. Try it on and see if it fits.”

Han Lei accepted the garment, a flicker of surprise lighting her eyes. “This… is for me?”

Zhao Zun nodded. “I saw you only had that one set of clothes, so I had someone go buy this. The border isn’t like the capital; good materials are hard to find. Just make do with this.”

Han Lei unfolded the package and caressed the fabric, warmth rising within her. She teased, “I didn’t expect you to be so thoughtful.”

“As long as you like it!” Zhao Zun said, lowering his gaze to hide the deep affection in his eyes.

Their conversation was interrupted by a commotion outside the tent—sounds of many footsteps approaching.

“Miss Han! Master! Are you there?” came the gruff voice of Old He.

Han Lei exchanged a glance with Zhao Zun, hoisted her first aid kit, and hurried outside, Zhao Zun limping closely behind.

Han Lei had thought someone was injured and Old He needed her help. But stepping outside, she saw Old He approaching with a large group of soldiers—easily over a hundred men.

A dense, dark mass of troops, as if ready for a brawl.

Old He was in his sixties but walked with a light step and a beaming face.

Under Han Lei’s tutelage these past days, he had learned suturing, simple injections, and basic Western medical concepts. He had personally overseen the later care of severely wounded soldiers under Han Lei’s guidance, working alongside the medical team.

Combining theory with hands-on practice, his medical skills had advanced rapidly, and he had come to deeply appreciate Han Lei’s expertise. Hence, he called her “Master” with even more enthusiasm.

“Old He, what brings you here?” Han Lei asked, surprised.

“Nothing much. These rowdy lads insisted I bring them over,” Old He said cheerfully, motioning to the soldiers behind him.

Han Lei looked up to see the very wounded soldiers she had treated—those who had narrowly escaped death.

Due to malnutrition, their recoveries were slow; each looked pale and gaunt.

They supported one another, staggering forward to stand before Han Lei.

One relatively strong man suddenly dropped to his knees with a thud and began pounding his head on the ground, startling Han Lei.

“Hey, hey, what are you doing? Get up!” she hurried over, trying to help him up.

This was too intense! She had never encountered such a scene before.

Yet the stalwart man was stubborn, refusing to rise. As he knelt, the wounded behind him followed suit, creating a sea of bowed heads. Han Lei didn’t know whom to assist first.

The strong man looked up, clasping his fists in salute toward Han Lei. Beneath his collar was a white bandage, and tears gleamed in his eyes, filled with gratitude.

“Miss Han, I am Tao Qing, a rough man who cannot speak flowery words. But if you ever need me, I will go through fire and water for you without hesitation!”

Han Lei recognized Tao Qing. An arrow had lodged itself between the plates of his broken armor, piercing his sternum. Though the injury wasn’t severe, the angle was too tricky for military doctors to extract, so he was deemed beyond saving and nearly sent on his final journey by his comrades.

Han Lei had painstakingly performed surgery to remove the arrow.

“Indeed, Miss Han,” a young soldier named Amao chimed in, “if not for you, I would have lost this arm long ago.”

“Miss Han, thank you for saving me!”

…

Voices overlapped with heartfelt thanks, filling the air with noisy gratitude.

Han Lei smiled, a glimmer of tears in her eyes. She knew these living souls were more precious than any honor.

Zhao Zun said nothing, quietly watching the soldiers express their gratitude. He understood the feeling of these rough men who had survived against all odds. Without Han Lei’s miraculous arrival, their lives would have ended on that cold night.

When the crowd’s thanks had subsided, Zhao Zun turned to Han Lei and asked, “If they recover, will they be able to don armor and fight again?”

“Some will, some won’t,” Han Lei replied regretfully. Some had missed the best window for treatment and were left with lifelong disabilities. Even she was powerless to change that.

“Ah,” Zhao Zun sighed deeply, his expression somber as still waters.

These were brothers who had fought alongside him through blade and fire—some even older comrades who had served with his father. Following them, neither had earned rank or title, but some had been crippled, condemned to a bleak life of bare subsistence. The thought weighed heavily on Zhao Zun’s heart.

“You will make proper arrangements for them, won’t you?” Han Lei looked up at him, hope shining in her eyes.

She had promised the wounded this a few days ago but had not asked Zhao Zun beforehand. She feared he might abandon them. After all, the Great Jing Dynasty was not China, and she did not know how this era treated soldiers who had lost their ability to fight.

“Of course,” Zhao Zun nodded. “I will temporarily arrange them in the supply camp.”

Han Lei smiled contentedly. Yet she caught a keyword in Zhao Zun’s words—

“Temporarily? So, what will happen to them later…”

Zhao Zun did not answer. Instead, he met Han Lei’s eyes, his gaze deep and laden with unspoken emotions.

After a long pause, he finally spoke an odd, seemingly unrelated sentence.

“You want to find a way back to China, don’t you? Let’s go. I’ll accompany you.”