Save the Wine on the Ship for Later

When Yuan Yu woke, the physician was sitting beside his bed, waiting for him.

Outside the window, people were already moving tables. The awning blown off by yesterday's cannon fire still hung from a tree. Qian Renxue came in carrying a food box and set a bowl of porridge by his left hand. Then she pulled his right hand out from under the covers.

"Move two fingers," the physician said.

Yuan Yu did. His fingers moved, but a dull ache ran through his wrist. He held his tongue. The physician pressed the injured spot, then glanced at him.

"Even a Level 99 body is made of flesh. Don't open that gate repeatedly for the next ten days. Change the dressing twice a day."

"Can I drink with my left hand?"

The physician packed his medicine case and nodded to Qian Renxue. "That's up to you."

She hung the Wine Gourd at the foot of the bed. Yuan Yu could reach it with his left hand, but not his right. There were even two pieces of meat in his porridge, so he ate first, lest those disappear too.

Qian Renxue took out the three signed receipts she had collected the night before and turned to the page about the injured coachmen. She asked whether he remembered anyone who had not received medicine. Yuan Yu pointed out two: one was guarding horses by the bridge, and the other lived outside the west gate. She added their addresses and sent guards to deliver medicine. Only then did she sit down to eat her now-cold porridge. Yuan Yu reached over with his left hand to swap bowls. She let him, but used her chopsticks to take the last piece of meat from his bowl.

That morning, they went to the bridgehead. Yuan Yu wore