Wu Quan's injuries were even more severe than Lin Qiye had imagined.
He sat in the clinic, watching the people there set Wu Quan's bones, apply medicine, and bandage his wounds. They worked busily until dusk. When the elderly man in charge wiped his sweat and sat down, Lin Qiye stepped forward.
"How is he?"
"This young man's injuries are strange. They don't look like they were caused by an impact, nor do they seem to be wounds from battle... I've already reset his bones and treated the serious wounds. As long as he gets enough rest, changes his dressings regularly, and takes medicine to recover for a while, he'll be fine."
"How long is 'a while'?"
"Broken bones and torn tendons take a hundred days to heal. With injuries like his, he'll need to stay in bed for at least half a year before he fully recovers."
Half a year?
Hearing that answer, Lin Qiye frowned... If Wu Quan had to remain bedridden and take medicine for half a year, didn't that mean they would have to stay here for half a year?
No. He still did not know why they had come to this era, nor did he know how to return. There were too many mysteries before Lin Qiye, and there were many things that needed doing in the modern world. How could he possibly stay here and recuperate peacefully for half a year?
Yet Lin Qiye could not rest easy leaving Wu Quan here alone. They had no money, nor did they have anyone trustworthy to care for Wu Quan. It was far too dangerous.
Just as Lin Qiye was struggling with the decision, an apprentice carried over several packets of medicinal herbs and carefully handed them to him.
The old man tentatively said, "Sir, this