Chapter 6: The Military Doctor at Work

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“That thing? That’s a carriage that can run without horses. I’m telling you, it goes really fast. And it doesn’t need any feed...” Xiao Zhenfei rambled on wildly, leaving Ma Cheng somewhat stunned.

Zhao Zun glanced at him, shaking his head with a smile.

This guy only just saw an ambulance today, yet he’s boasting as if he’s very knowledgeable.

In front of the ambulance.

Han Lei planned to use the space beneath the driver’s seat as the outlet for the supplies. Others saw her pulling out grain from beneath the seat, but in truth, she was retrieving it from the system.

Rice and flour packaged in fifty-pound bags. Han Lei only bought a hundred bags of each. Since the ambulance had limited space, she didn’t want to arouse unnecessary suspicion.

Ten thousand pounds of grain for fifty thousand soldiers—rationed carefully, it should last three to five days.

“Oh my, is this polished rice? Fine, polished white rice!”

“And premium flour too!”

“...”

Through the transparent packaging, the soldiers coming to collect grain caught sight of the white rice and flour inside, instantly erupting in excitement. Some were so overwhelmed with joy they wept; others knelt on the ground, bowing repeatedly before the precious food.

How many days had it been since they last saw real grain? Even coarse bread mixed with chaff was a luxury. Such refined grain was probably reserved only for the nobility in the palace!

Han Lei secretly breathed a sigh of relief. It seemed hunger had far outweighed their curiosity about the transparent packaging. She had worried she might have to waste words explaining it.

The next day, when Han Lei woke up, it was already noon.

Last night, Zhao Zun had ordered his men to set up a tent beside the main command tent for Han Lei.

After traveling, rescuing, driving, and unloading grain, Han Lei was utterly exhausted. She collapsed onto the bed as soon as she entered the tent.

Just as Han Lei got up, she heard Xiao Zhenfei’s voice outside.

“Miss Han, are you awake?”

“Mm!”

Hearing her reply, Xiao Zhenfei lifted the curtain and stepped inside.

“Miss Han, the prince is in a meeting and sent me to ask if there is anything you need. The camp is simple, please forgive the humble accommodations.”

Han Lei glanced around; inside the tent there was only a wooden bed and a table with stools—indeed very simple.

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“Commander Xiao, could you please find me a wooden tub for bathing? I’d like to take a bath. Nothing else is needed.”

“Understood! I’ll have them heat some water for you right away.”

Xiao Zhenfei said and stepped out. Once the hot water was ready, he summoned five or six soldiers to stand guard outside Han Lei’s tent, forbidding anyone to approach.

Han Lei purchased toiletries and skincare products from the system and enjoyed a thorough bath before tidying herself up.

After eating plain porridge and pancakes, Han Lei stepped out of the tent and happened to run into Zhao Zun, who had just finished the meeting.

Seeing Han Lei after her freshening up, Zhao Zun’s eyes briefly flickered with admiration.

Still wearing the same camouflage uniform from yesterday, her face cleansed of dirt, her skin delicate and features refined, she looked beautiful, spirited, and heroic.

A gentle breeze carried the faint scent of her shower gel, prompting Zhao Zun to lightly stroke the armrest of his wheelchair and inhale deeply.

“Hey? Prince, what a coincidence!” Han Lei greeted him cheerfully, looking crisp and refreshed.

Zhao Zun smiled faintly. “Heh, Miss Han, did you sleep well last night?”

“I was really exhausted yesterday, so I slept quite well.”

Han Lei glanced at Ping Chuan, who was pushing the wheelchair behind Zhao Zun, and asked, “Brother Ping, you’re injured. Why aren’t you resting properly? Let me push the prince instead! I have nothing else to do and was thinking of wandering around.”

She stepped forward to take over, but Ping Chuan quickly declined.

“That won’t do. I’ll handle it. I still haven’t properly thanked Miss Han for saving my life yesterday.”

“Oh, it was nothing. No need to thank me,” Han Lei waved off casually.

As a modern woman, Han Lei disliked the overly formal etiquette of these ancient people. Yet her easygoing and generous manner caused a faint smile to tug at Zhao Zun’s lips.

“Miss Han is right. You’re injured too and should rest. Let Miss Han push me instead!”

Zhao Zun said this, then looked at Han Lei meaningfully.

Since Miss Han was already the chief military medic under his command, perhaps she should...

He deliberately dragged out the sentence, his gaze loaded with implication.

Han Lei slapped her head, realizing instantly. “Ah! I was just saying I’m fine, but how could I forget? We just finished a battle yesterday, there must be many wounded soldiers. Prince, I’ll go take a look right now.”

She didn’t want the prince to think she was just mooching off them.

“I’m heading to the field hospital as well. Miss Han, please do me the honor of pushing me there.”

Zhao Zun raised his hand, signaling Ping Chuan to step aside. Ping Chuan reluctantly handed over the wheelchair handles.

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Zhao Zun pointed towards the field hospital, and Han Lei began pushing him forward. Ping Chuan watched them leave, shrugged, and turned away.

Though taciturn, Ping Chuan was no fool. He clearly understood the prince’s subtle message: he didn’t want Ping Chuan tagging along.

Han Lei and Zhao Zun chatted casually along the way and soon arrived at the field hospital.

The so-called field hospital was simply a cluster of huge tents connected together where all the wounded were gathered. Conditions were harsh and cramped, with waves of stench drifting through the air.

At the tent entrance, wounded soldiers were periodically carried out on stretchers and neatly laid on the adjacent open ground. Han Lei knew these were severely injured soldiers beyond hope, left there to await death.

A dense mass of hundreds of wounded filled the area, many so grievously injured they could no longer distinguish between life and death.

Staring at the grim scene before her, Han Lei couldn’t help but close her eyes.

As a soldier herself, she fully understood the cruelty of war—but understanding and witnessing it firsthand were entirely different.

Perhaps sensing her unease, Zhao Zun spoke up at just the right moment.

“Let’s go in.”

Han Lei said nothing, quietly pushing Zhao Zun into the tent.

Inside, wounded soldiers lay haphazardly everywhere. Some had already been treated; others were still waiting. Several old military medics moved busily among the patients.

Han Lei hadn’t expected so many wounded after a single battle—and this was only inside one large tent. With just a few old medics, how long would it take to treat them all?

“So many wounded... Prince, it seems you must send more people to assist me,” Han Lei said, bending slightly to whisper in Zhao Zun’s ear.

Zhao Zun nodded. “Good. I’ll have Ma Cheng arrange that for you immediately.”

Whether intentional or not, Zhao Zun did not refer to himself as “this king” this time.

“Marshal.”

“Marshal.”

At that moment, several soldiers carrying stretchers passed Zhao Zun, greeting him respectfully. Zhao Zun nodded in return.

Suddenly, someone shouted.

“Marshal! The marshal is here! The marshal has come to see us!”