Wounded Soldiers Recuperate, Summarizing Experience

The candlelight in the medical tent flickered, reflecting off the dark red at Bai Zhi's lips. Chen Wuya crouched beside the bed, his fingertips still dusted with powder from the shattered porcelain shards, while a thread of faint blue light died between his fingers.

He said nothing. He merely sprang to his feet and threw open the tent flap. The two personal guards outside immediately stiffened.

"Seal this place off." His voice was low, yet it cut through the air like a blade through cloth. "No one is allowed in or out. Don't touch even the medicine chests."

The guards froze for a moment. "Commander, this is..."

"Someone mixed Netherworld Powder into the calming soup." He stared at them. "They specifically tampered with the portion meant for seriously wounded officers. She still hasn't awakened, yet the poison has already entered her veins. Do you think that's a coincidence?"

The two men's expressions changed. One turned to summon more men, but Chen Wuya caught him by the shoulder.

"Don't make a fuss. Bring only those I trust—the few who came out of the refugee camp with us. Seal up every medicinal ingredient, especially the three packets of 'Tranquil Heart Powder' delivered tonight."

The man nodded and hurried away.

Chen Wuya reentered the tent, softening his steps. Bai Zhi lay with her eyes closed, her breathing faint, the veins at her wrist tinged an unnatural grayish purple. He sat on a small stool and pulled an oil-paper packet from his robes. Inside were several dried, withered leaves, their scent sharp and pungent.

Old Wu Tou had stuffed this emergency antidote recipe into his hands years ago, saying it could suppress the backlash of wicked energy. Though it could not compare to proper medical arts, it could at least keep true qi from