Двойной бокс-сет

Глава 134

"Remnants?"

Wanlan laughed in anger, "The Northern King Yelü Xidi of Liao is a coward, but the Southern King Yelü Xiezhen is both wise and brave. He took advantage of our army's contempt for Yelü Xidi and deliberately had his men carry Yelü Xidi's blue military flag, pretending to retreat. His purpose was to make our army carelessly walk into his ambush! Remnants? Ha! Who said they were remnants?"

Upon hearing this, Lan Wu's expression changed slightly. "Madam, what should we do?"

Wanlan's gaze sharpened. "Who in the army is left to guard the area?"

"Meng Xuan, the military governor of Dingwu!"

Lan Wu quickly replied, then hurriedly asked, "Should we send half a soldier under Lord Meng's command to provide support?"

No! There's no need.

Although the Song army suffered losses due to Yelü Xiezhen's underhanded tactics, they were not significant and warranted no further mobilization. "Lan Wu, you go alone to catch up with the army that went to intercept the Liao troops and relay my words to Zehua. Make sure he tells the Emperor that this 'mishap' is merely an enemy ploy, and we must be extremely careful! Also, before you leave, find Lord Meng and tell him, according to the Prince of Qin's decree, to guard our position with utmost vigilance. I suspect the Liao army might launch a counterattack from the rear. Do you understand?"

"But Madam, you—"

"What could possibly happen to me? With so many soldiers left behind, what could possibly happen to me? You must leave immediately!"

Lan Wu pursed his lips, still harboring some reservations, but dared not disobey.

"Your subordinate will depart immediately."

As Wanlan had predicted, that very night, a fairly large force of Liao troops approached from behind the Song army's garrison. Fortunately, Wanlan had asked Lan Wu to remind Meng Xuan, and this brief skirmish did not result in too many casualties.

In the early hours of the following day, the army that had gone to intercept the "remnants" hurriedly returned to their camp. Many of the soldiers were wounded and looked exhausted.

Wanlan, who had been sitting in the military tent, could no longer sit still and rushed out without regard for the consequences. Watching the wounded being carried on stretchers to the medical tent, covered in blood, some with simple bandages but too much blood to heal, others with tattered clothes and missing limbs, her mind went blank.

What's going on with Lan Wu?

Didn't you convey her message?

Or perhaps it was because the Imperial Uncle insisted on ignoring advice that such heavy casualties occurred?

What about Zehua?

Is he alright?

Wanlan ran around in a panic, helplessly praying that he was safe. While running, her elbow was suddenly grabbed.

She staggered, turned sharply, and stared blankly at the man who had grabbed her. "He..."

"Madam, this way. The Prince has already returned."

The person who grabbed her was Xue Weiji. He whispered something in her ear and then pulled her back. She probably didn't realize that her panicked and tearful appearance had left the soldiers nearby utterly bewildered. If she continued like this, her identity might be questioned. Her steps faltering, she followed Xue Weiji back. Upon seeing the familiar military tent, she abruptly released Xue Weiji's hand and charged inside, only to bump right into the man who was just coming out.

The man was shoved hard, and he stumbled back several steps, nearly falling. Before Wanlan could react, she heard him mutter a curse. She looked up blankly and saw Zhao Dezhao glaring at her angrily. "What are you doing? Are you out of your mind, charging around like that?"

Wanlan blinked blankly, "Where's Zehua?"

A gentle sigh came from behind Zhao Dezhao, "Wanlan, I'm here."

Zhao Defang, who had removed his armor at some point, strolled over wearing a light blue outer robe, extended his hand to her, and smiled slightly, "Wanlan, I'm here."

Wanlan bit her lip hard, let go of Zhao Dezhao and walked towards him. The moment she breathed a sigh of relief, her eyes suddenly welled up with tears. She wrapped her arms tightly around his neck and squeezed herself into his embrace, unable to speak anymore.

Feeling her gentle touch, Zhao Defang smiled helplessly, embraced her, and whispered, "I'm fine." Zhao Dezhao and Xue Weiji, who were watching, exchanged a glance, both smiling slightly, and silently left. "Wanlan?"

Seeing that she seemed unwilling to let go, Zhao Defang had no choice but to carry her to the bed. They both sat down, but as he did so, a slight gasp caused Wanlan to jerk off him. "What's wrong?"

His face was a little pale. Wanlan was shocked and only then realized that he was only wearing his inner garment, and his outer robe was just draped over his shoulders.

How long have they been back at camp? How could Zehua have taken off his armor so quickly?

The more she thought about it, the more horrified she became. She suddenly reached out and ripped off his outer shirt, staring blankly at the slightly bloodstained white shirt on his shoulder and back. Her breath caught in her throat, and she almost suffocated.

"Wanlan?"

"..."

He sighed and reached out to pull her to sit beside him. "It's really nothing, just a minor scratch. It'll be fine in a couple of days." Wanlan closed her eyes briefly, trying to shake off the sudden dizziness, before opening them to meet his apologetic gaze. She asked in a hoarse voice, "Where's Lan Wu? Haven't you seen him?"

"I saw them, but it was too late. But thanks to your words, our casualties were greatly reduced." He smiled gently. "Thank you, Wanlan."

"But you are still injured."

Tears welled up in her eyes, and she abruptly turned her head away, only to have him reach out and pull her close. Unable to escape, she could only bury her face in his shoulder and neck, hiding her vulnerable tears, biting her lip to swallow her sobs. Why couldn't she change anything?

Her presence here has already affected the changes in this time and space, so why can't she do something now to change the ending she doesn't want to face?

"Zehua, tell your uncle to stop."

Zhao Defang remained silent for a moment before asking in a low voice, "Wanlan, what was the outcome of this war?"

Wanlan reached out and lifted the collar of his white shirt, gently stroking the blood-stained white gauze. "What injured you?"

"Arrow." He lowered his gaze, brushing aside her delicate eyelashes. "Wanlan, did you hear what I said?"

Was the arrow poisoned?

"No, Wanlan—"

How deep is the wound?

Zhao Defang cupped her face in his hands, forcing her to look into his eyes. "Wanlan, my wound isn't deep. It's just that my uncle and elder brother were being too careful, which is why the imperial physician bandaged me so meticulously. Don't worry anymore, don't think about it anymore, okay?"

With nowhere to hide, her still-tearful eyes met his gaze, and she asked, "Do you really want to know?"