A divine healer, a general, a young marquis! Who can rival them!

Having foiled the plot to poison and frame someone, the military clerk fled in disgrace. But Yang Hu knew in his heart that the hand lurking in the shadows would not give up so easily.

Sure enough, a few days later, an even greater disaster struck.

That night, the north wind howled, and all was silent in the western camp. The soldiers on night watch, wrapped in thin uniforms, huddled against the wall, dozing. No one had expected that the barbarians from beyond the pass would launch a night attack in the dead of winter.

A small group of elite barbarian cavalry, taking advantage of the snowstorm, sneaked into the outlying camp where the western camp's grain and fodder were stored, and set it on fire by pouring oil on it.

The fire was fueled by the wind, and the wind fueled the fire's power; in the blink of an eye, half of the camp was bathed in crimson light.

"Fire! Quick, put out the fire!"

A piercing cry shattered the cold night. The entire camp was instantly thrown into chaos.

Yang Hu was awakened from his sleep by the towering flames and deafening noise. He threw on his clothes and rushed out of the tent, only to see the eastern sky burning blood red, with waves of heat rolling in, and the pungent smell of burning flesh filling the air.

"It's the grain depot!" Qin Ying, disguised as a medicine boy, exclaimed, his expression changing. "The barbarians launched a night attack and burned the grain!"

The fighting lasted all night until dawn, when the small group of elite barbarian cavalry who had taken advantage of the chaos were finally driven back by the garrison that had rushed to the scene.

The fire has been extinguished.

The grain depot was mostly burned down.

Stockpiles of military rations, meant to last through the entire winter, were reduced to ashes, leaving only charred remains, smoldering in the morning breeze. This fire burned not only the rations, but also the very foundation upon which this battalion of soldiers had the strength to survive the winter and defend against the enemy.

What's even more heartbreaking than the burned grain and fodder is the sight of soldiers burned by the flames while fighting the fire.

Dozens of brothers who had been burned suddenly poured into the wounded soldiers' camp.

As soon as Yang Hu entered the wounded soldiers' camp, he gasped in shock.

The soldiers who had been burned were covered in charred, blackened, and swollen flesh. Some had their entire arms burned and peeled back, revealing horrifying white flesh, oozing blood and pus—a truly gruesome sight. A foul stench of burning flesh, mixed with the suppressed cries of the wounded, permeated the entire camp.

The doctor and physician Liu who accompanied the army were dumbfounded once again.

They stuck to the old methods, haphazardly applying unknown ointments and sauces to the burned wounds; some even put sauce on the wounds and sprinkled salt on them.

"Stop!" Yang Hu shouted, stopping a military doctor who was about to apply paste to a wound.

The doctor was taken aback, turned around and saw it was Yang Hu, and said stiffly, "Applying paste to burns is a method passed down from our ancestors! What do you know?"

"Is what our ancestors passed down necessarily correct?" Yang Hu said coldly. "Applying soy sauce and salt to a burned wound will only make it fester faster, drawing out pus and causing the person to suffer excruciating pain and rot to death!"

The entire tent was filled with astonishment.

The army doctor was stunned by his shout, his hand holding the bowl of soy sauce frozen in mid-air. The soldiers surrounding the wounded soldier also stared blankly at the young medical officer, wondering what he was up to.

"How do you treat burns? I'll do it." Yang Hu ignored the doctor's glare and made a quick decision, giving the order.

The first thing he did was to have buckets of cold water brought in.

"Quickly, immerse the burned brothers in cool water, or apply clean cloths soaked in cool water to the wounds."

This method is unheard of.

"Pour cold water on a burn? That's going to kill someone!" Doctor Liu exclaimed in disbelief.

"The fire poison has penetrated the flesh, and that burning heat is still spreading layer by layer inside." Yang Hu said in a deep voice while skillfully treating the wound, "Cool water can draw out the residual heat of this fire poison and stop it from burning deeper. Lowering the temperature will help the wound heal faster and reduce the suffering."

Sure enough, the wounded soldiers who were soaked in the cold water had their heart-wrenching screams subside. The excruciating burning pain seemed to have been somewhat suppressed by the cool water.

After cooling down, the wound needs to be cleaned.

Yang Hu carefully cut away the necrotic, charred flesh from the wound with a knife disinfected with strong liquor, and then rinsed the wound clean little by little with boiled and cooled clean salt water.

"Why...why do this? Why cut off perfectly good flesh?"

"Leaving that burnt, rotting flesh inside will only cause it to fester and become infected." Yang Hu didn't even look up, his hands as steady as a rock. "Once it's cleaned up, medicine is applied, and the healthy flesh underneath that hasn't been burned away is protected, the wound can heal."

After cleaning the wound, he took out a cooling ointment made from herbs that he carried with him, applied it thinly to the cleaned wound, and then loosely bandaged it with a clean cloth.

For soldiers with large burn areas, severe injuries, and who had begun to have a fever and delirium, he used the same life-saving method: feeding them salt and sugar water, sip by sip, slowly.

"The burns were so severe that the moisture in the body seeped out and boiled away through the festering wounds," Yang Hu explained. "If the water isn't replenished, even if the person isn't burned to death, they will die from dehydration."

The method is well-organized and systematic.

He single-handedly brought order back to the wounded soldiers' camp, which was originally in complete chaos and filled with cries of pain.

Those soldiers who were sentenced to death and whose faces were burned beyond recognition were pulled back from the brink of death one by one by the methods of cooling with cold water, cleaning and applying medicine to their wounds, and prolonging their lives with salt and sugar water.

Within three to five days, those burns that were originally festering, oozing pus, and had persistent high fever began to scab over and regenerate tissue, gradually showing signs of improvement.

The entire camp was once again stunned by the young medical officer's abilities.

"Incredible! That person, burned beyond recognition, was miraculously saved!"

"Following Doctor Yang, I'm not even afraid of this fire-scorched wound anymore!"

The old-fashioned doctor, clinging to the traditional method of applying paste to the wound, blushed with embarrassment and dared not utter another sound. Liu, the physician with forty years of experience, was once again completely convinced by this young man.

And what was saved was far more than just a few dozen lives.

In this border region, where soldiers and generals are scarce, every soldier who is saved and can pick up a sword again contributes to the defense of this pass.

With his bare hands, Yang Hu managed to salvage a lost fighting force from that raging fire.

But his heart was heavier than anyone else's.

He squatted in front of the ruins of the burned-down grain camp, carefully examining the charred remains by the daylight.

This fire happened so strangely.

How did that small group of elite barbarian cavalry manage to bypass all the sentry posts and checkpoints and infiltrate this heavily guarded supply depot so stealthily? And how did they know so precisely where the supplies were stored?

"Someone led the way." Yang Hu's eyes gradually turned cold. "The camp's defenses and the true state of its supplies were all leaked to the barbarians beyond the Great Wall. That's how the barbarians were able to sneak in unnoticed and set a fire in the most critical spot."

There are no coincidences in this world. Behind every seemingly accidental misfortune lies a meticulously planned hand.

On a snowy night, the hand hidden in the shadows once again reached out silently.

This time, it is going to burn the very lifeblood of this border post.

If supplies are cut off, morale will inevitably collapse. If morale collapses, can this pass still be held?

Yang Hu clenched his fist, his eyes flashing with a chilling light. This fire had awakened the murderous intent in his heart, and it also brought this case of the traitor colluding with the enemy one step closer to being solved.