An 80s female translator was spoiled rotten by a rough and jealous man.

Chapter 276 What are you thinking?

"I've registered all the medicines." The medic squatted down and closed the box in front of him, then stood up, facing the man, and gestured around with his fingers, saying, "These piled on the left should be left at the first aid station, and you can take the boxes on the right back tonight."

The military doctor put down his pen and handed the copybook to the man. "This is the medicine allocation form. I've already filled it out. Platoon Leader Huo, you can check it against the list. If there are no problems, sign it in the lower right corner and then you can leave with the medicine and the list."

Huo Qingshan reached out and took the list, flipping through it in his hand:
「日期：198X年5月27日 01:30
Transferred Unit: First Aid Station, 1st Battalion, 109th Regiment, XXth Army

Receiving Unit: No. 3 Garrison Cave, Area A, Frontier of L Mountain
Drug Names and Quantities
55 vials of streptomycin injection

12 bags of freeze-dried plasma

……

……

45 vials of penicillin injection

Huo Qingshan didn't look at this part carefully; he went straight on to the next section:
"Machine gunner Li XX (penetrating abdominal wound): 1 bag of plasma + 1 vial of streptomycin + 1 vial of morphine;
Wang XX (right shoulder infection): 2 vials of streptomycin;
……

……

Cao X (post-traumatic gas gangrene): 1 vial of penicillin;

The list was crammed onto a single page. Huo Qingshan read down to the last name, and the light in his eyes gradually dimmed.

"Doesn't this include the medicine from the observation post?" the man asked.

Upon hearing this, the military doctor glanced at the man with an ambiguous expression and said in a strange tone, "There is a patient with abdominal pain at the observation post, suspected to be dysentery, but there is no medicine for dysentery in this batch. There is also a patient with an ear infection, and penicillin is the right medicine, but there is only one box of penicillin in the medicine you brought back. I have already prescribed it all based on the severity of the symptoms of the wounded soldiers stranded on the front line. There is no more."

The military doctor shrugged, his tone weak: "We don't have enough medicine, what can I do?"

At this moment, someone called the military doctor over, saying that a patient's condition was not good. The military doctor turned around and responded, then turned to Huo Qingshan and instructed, "After you go back, remember to check with the medic in the cave to see if the quantity of medicine matches the corresponding amount on the list. If there is no problem, you can hand over this batch of medicine to the medic."

As the military doctor stretched his aching shoulders and neck, he walked towards the ward area, only saying, "Call me over there. I'll go first. Call me again when you've finished counting."

According to procedure, the military doctor should also be present during Huo Qingshan's inventory process, but he seemed to have great confidence in Huo Qingshan, after all, this was not the first time that Platoon Leader Huo had carried out the mission of escorting medicines.

Furthermore, although Huo Qingshan has only been at the front line for a little over half a year, his reputation has spread far and wide, and he has accumulated numerous military achievements.

In particular, during his first month on the battlefield, he led a reconnaissance team deep into enemy territory to survey the enemy situation. During the mission, they were unexpectedly exposed and surrounded by enemy troops.

Just when everyone in the command post thought the mission had ended in failure and that no one had survived, they never expected that two days and one night later, he would bring back three wounded comrades and core intelligence all by himself.

In a desperate situation where rations were exhausted, enemy sentries were everywhere, and minefields surrounded them, he managed to pull three comrades who had been shot, bled, and were unconscious back from the brink of death.

Such heroic deeds were once known throughout the entire front.

No one knows what he went through in those two days and one night. Where did the food come from to keep the wounded alive? How did he evade the enemy's numerous obstacles? How did he cross the treacherous minefield? How did he manage to move three unconscious adult men together?
How he did it remains a mystery, but over time, a consensus seemed to form within the front lines in this area—there was a young officer named Huo Qingshan, famous for never abandoning his comrades! The process of inventorying medicines was familiar to Huo Qingshan. He would lay a white cloth on the lid of the medicine box, arrange the medicines by height when taking them out, hold the medicine in his right hand with his thumb and forefinger gripping the top and bottom of the bottle respectively, and register it with his left hand. Everything was done methodically; he had performed the same steps many times before.

The last box of medicine was quickly counted. The man followed the rules, touching the medicine bottle with his fingertips again and again, picking it up gently and then putting it down gently.

The box at his feet had a bloodstain on one corner, mixed with mud and bits of grass. With each rise and fall of his hand, whether intentional or a search for a foothold, the man's gaze frequently fell on that corner.

He knew where the bloodstains came from.

It was the final moment, when it was time to sprint, that he greedily grabbed two boxes of medicine at once and ran at the very back of the group.

The truck burst into flames behind him, the shockwave propelling him forward. One of the crates fell from his arms, spilling its contents—medicine bottles—which shattered. He instinctively clutched the remaining crate tightly to his arms, then his chin slammed into the corner of that crate, sending him and the crate rolling twice across the muddy ground before coming to a stop.

At this moment, the man was holding a vial of penicillin in his right hand. It was a small, thin vial, about the size of half a thumb, and could be completely covered by his large hand, making it inconspicuous.

The man's gaze shifted from the corner of the box to his tightly clenched hand. He could clearly see it trembling violently. It was a sniper's right hand, the right hand of a top reconnaissance soldier, shaking uncontrollably.

Inside this underground emergency station, the lighting was less than ideal. The man sat alone in a corner, with hurried footsteps behind him, busy figures in white coats coming and going, and the incessant cries of the wounded.

No one had the spare time to pay attention to him, and no one noticed the man's other hand resting on the edge of the box, hidden in the dim shadows, his nails dug so hard into his palm that they drew blood.

Huo Qingshan, what are you thinking at this moment?

In the operating logic of human society, emotions and discipline are often placed as opposing sides.

It seems that everyone has a container in their heart, which contains all kinds of human desires.

Some people are controlled by their desires, and as a result, they turn a blind eye to rules and order, letting them grow and expand wildly until they burst the container and indulge their selfish desires.

Some people regard discipline as the highest form of faith, above all other thoughts and behavioral norms, and are absolutely loyal to the inviolable red line in their hearts.

Huo Qingshan always considered himself to be the latter. He could not understand the former and even despised the former. If one does not restrain one's selfish desires but lets them run wild and becomes a slave to greed, how is he different from an animal?
For nearly thirty years, the vessel in his heart had always held only a shallow layer of clear liquid, remaining calm and undisturbed for years. Huo Qingshan had always been proud of this, seeing it as both contentment and self-discipline, and simply how it should be.

If it weren't for tonight, he might never have experienced the feeling of a container filled with thick, black liquid, constantly boiling and violently surging, almost bursting out countless times, and for several moments, he really didn't want to stop it at all.

So, what is truth?
Fate will tell you: Don't be too aloof; the truth is that we are all ordinary beings, and no one can escape it. If you insist on not accepting this, then... just wait and see.

"Have you finished counting?" The medic's voice suddenly came from somewhere; you could hear him before you saw him.

A few seconds later, a figure emerged from behind the perimeter of the makeshift hospital bed area and strode over.

The man held the pen and drew the last horizontal stroke of the character "正" on the paper without looking up. He then flipped to the medicine allocation form that had been handed to him a dozen minutes earlier, and with fluent strokes, signed his name—"Huo Qingshan".

"No problem," Huo Qingshan replied expressionlessly, handing the carbon copy back. "It's signed."

The medic took it, glanced at it briefly, turned the page, and tore out the page with the Blue Alliance logo. "Here, be careful on the road."