Disability

Steward Li's gaze lingered on Chen Yan's face for only a moment before he looked away.

He was simply amazed that a farm boy from the countryside could be so handsome and well-proportioned.

"Come in."

Steward Li spoke, then pushed open the door to the side room in front of him.

A rich herbal scent wafted out to meet them.

A few candles burned in the room. A figure lay on the bed, breathing steadily and seemingly fast asleep.

Chen Dasheng craned his neck to look toward the bed. Only after seeing the red hair on the head of the person lying there did he finally let out a breath of relief.

Autumn nights in Xingyuan City were cold.

It wasn't until they entered the side room that the chill which had enveloped Chen Dasheng began to dissipate.

At the same time, weariness swept over the farmer's whole body.

He had spent most of the day working in the wheat fields. Then, after receiving the message, he had immediately driven his donkey cart for several hours, even running into bandits along the way.

He was utterly exhausted, body and soul.

And the moment he saw Chen Dong, bound in strips of cloth and smelling of herbs, Chen Dasheng's exhaustion suddenly erupted.

"Steward Li, my son should be all right, shouldn't he?"

Chen Dasheng lowered his voice and asked the old man beside him.

"I've already told you."

Steward Li replied:

"The physician said his life isn't in danger, but there's a chance his right hand won't be saved."

"By 'won't be saved,' you mean... it has to be cut off?"

Chen Dasheng continued, worry written across his face.

"It's not that bad."

Steward Li shook his head:

"But if he doesn't recover well, he may not be able to exert