Border Soldier: My fiancée snatched credit and broke off the engagement, so I promptly became a marq

It was warm inside the medical tent.

The stove was burning pine wood, and the smell of medicine mixed with the stench of blood made people feel dizzy.

Chen Mu sat on the edge of the couch, his armor already removed.

Lin Qinghe took the scissors and cut open the strip of cloth on his chest that was bleeding again.

She stopped halfway through cutting.

It's not because the wound is difficult to treat.

It's because Chen Mu has too many old injuries.

A wolf-tooth knife wound on his chest.

There was a gash on his shoulder where an arrow had grazed him.

There were bruises on his back from being hit by a blunt object.

There was still a patch of bruises left by the Black Wolf Guards on his side last night.

New wounds press on old wounds.

Old wounds piled on top of new ones.

A person's body is like something that has been gradually disassembled and then stitched back together over the past few years at the border.

Lin Qinghe pursed her lips.

"Who treated your injuries in the past?"

Chen Mu thought for a moment.

"Cover it if you can."

"If you can't wrap it up, then warm yourself by the fire."

Lin Qinghe looked up and glared at him.

"To warm oneself by the fire?"

Chen Mu said, "The cook camp may not have much else, but it has plenty of fire."

Lin Qinghe's hand trembled with anger.

"You're incredibly lucky to have survived this long."

Chen Mu closed his eyes.

"He wasn't tough enough; he died last night."

Lin Qinghe didn't say anything more.

She picked up a clean cloth, dipped it in strong liquor, and pressed it against the edge of the wound.

Chen Mu's shoulders tensed.

But he still didn't say anything.

Lin Qinghe whispered, "If it hurts, grab onto something."

Chen Mu glanced to the side.

There's nothing there.

Lin Qinghe hesitated for a moment before offering her wrist.

"Grab this one."

Chen Mu opened his eyes.

Lin Qinghe blushed slightly, but did not withdraw her hand.

"Don't misunderstand."

"When wounded soldiers are in a lot of pain, they will move around and the needles are more likely to go astray."

Chen Mu looked at her.

This girl has very clean eyes.

She's not as calculating as Su Wan, nor as cold as Lu Shuangyi.

She's afraid of blood.

But his hands are very steady.

She was angry because she genuinely felt his injury shouldn't be treated so badly.

Chen Mu did not grab her wrist.

"You sew it."

Lin Qinghe bit her lip.

"what ever."

The needle penetrated the flesh.

One injection.

Two injections.

Three needles.

Cold sweat quickly broke out on Chen Mu's forehead.

With each needle she inserted, Lin Qinghe could feel his breathing shorten for a moment.

But he just wouldn't shout.

She felt inexplicably choked up.

How did this person manage to get through it?

Last night, I was betrayed in public by my fiancée.

He was humiliated by Zhao Chenglie stepping on his face.

With a wound on his chest, he went to guard the south gate again.

The first thing he did upon returning was not to treat his injuries, but to write the names of the seventeen cooks into the military merit book.

Lin Qinghe only knew that Chen Mu was from the cookhouse.

silence.

poor.

He always kept his head down as he carried firewood from the kitchen.

She hadn't expected this person to be so stiff when he looked up.

Footsteps could be heard outside the tent.

It's very light.

It stopped at the entrance.

Lin Qinghe did not turn around.

"Who?"

It got quiet outside for a moment.

Su Wan's voice rang out.

"it's me."

Lin Qinghe paused for a moment.

Chen Mu did not open his eyes.

Su Wan stood outside the tent, still holding the bowl of medicine in her hand.

It's already cold.

She just came back from the south gate.

Zhao Chenglie was there taking stock of the spoils of war, his face even paler than hers.

She saw the burned-out door latch, the captured accomplice, and heard people say that if the south gate had been breached last night, she would likely have been the first target of the barbarians.

She stood at the south gate for a long time, and the more she looked, the more she felt like she had been a joke last night.

Zhao Chenglie was not a high branch, but a rotten piece of wood that colluded with the enemy.

Chen Mu not only preserved his own merits, but also preserved the reputation of the seventeen dead men.

She finally couldn't resist and came to the medical tent again.

But when she got to the door, she heard Lin Qinghe speaking and couldn't bring herself to step inside.

Chen Mu asked, "Is something the matter?"

Su Wan's throat tightened.

"I...I'll heat up the medicine and bring it to you."

Lin Qinghe looked down at Chen Mu's wound.

"He can't take this medicine."

Su Wan was stunned.

Why?

Lin Qinghe said, "Your medicine contains ginseng, which is too strong. He has lost a lot of blood and his wound has just been stitched up. Drinking it will only cause more blood to rush to his head."

Su Wan's face turned pale.

she does not know.

She used to bring Chen Mu medicine when he was injured.

All she knew was that ginseng was a good thing.

Anything taken from Zhao's warehouse is bound to be expensive.

She never considered that expensive things might not be suitable.

Lin Qinghe tied the needle and thread into a knot, her voice neither warm nor cold.

"If Miss Su really wants to help, she can go and boil some water."

"There are many wounded soldiers, and we need to use more than just Corporal Chen."

Su Wan's hand holding the medicine bowl froze.

Should I have her boil water?

She was the registrar's daughter.

Although she wasn't from a noble family, she had never done such rough work in Blackrock Castle.

In the past, Chen Mu would never have been willing to part with it.

He would take the bowl from her hand and say, "Wanwan, you've worked hard."

But now, there is no sound from inside the medical tent.

Chen Mu did not speak up for her.

Su Wan's tears welled up in her eyes.

"Chen Mu".

"I didn't know this medicine couldn't be taken."

Chen Mu finally opened his eyes.

"Um."

There is only one word.

Su Wan felt even worse.

She would rather Chen Mu scold her.

They called her snobbish, heartless, and blind.

At least that shows he still cares.

But he just grunted in response.

It's like listening to a stranger explain something completely unrelated.

Su Wan said in a low voice, "I went to the South Gate last night."

Chen Mu remained silent.

Su Wan continued, "I saw it."

"The latch really was burned."

"The Zhao family... is really letting barbarians in."

Her voice trembled.

"Chen Mu, I didn't know the Zhao family would be like this before."

Chen Mu looked at the top of the tent.

"You didn't know the Zhao family would collude with the enemy."

"But you know they're stealing the credit."

Su Wan's face turned deathly pale.

Lin Qinghe paused, then looked up at Chen Mu.

Chen Mu's voice was very flat.

"At last night's victory celebration, didn't you know who killed Wugu?"

"Don't you know I took a knife for you?"

"Don't you know who that red fox fur cloak was stolen from?"

Su Wan held the bowl, her fingertips turning white.

she knows.

Of course she knew.

She just felt that those things weren't important.

The important thing is that Zhao Chenglie can give her dignity.

They can give her a status.

This would allow her to avoid marrying a lowly cook, avoid following Chen Mu to fetch medicine for her sick mother, and avoid calculating how many doses of medicine she could brew with one or two taels of silver in winter.

She thought she was choosing the future.

But now, in the future, he stands in the medical tent, his wounds being stitched up by another woman.

She stood outside the tent and even delivered the wrong bowl of medicine.

Su Wan choked back tears and said, "I was wrong."

Chen Mu closed his eyes.

"Go boil some water."

Su Wan was stunned.

These four words are harsher than insults directed at her.

She finally lowered her head.

"it is good."

She turned and left.

The footsteps outside the tent gradually faded into the distance.

Lin Qinghe lowered her head to pack her medicine box, her tone somewhat soft.

"You really want her to boil water?"

Chen Mu said, "Didn't she want to help?"

Lin Qinghe couldn't help but look at him.

"You used to like her?"

Chen Mu paused for a moment.

This is a difficult question to answer.

The person who liked her was the original Chen Mu.

But the pain of betrayal remains in this body.

Those feelings of grievance, anger, and resentment were also real.

Chen Mu said, "My eyesight used to be bad."

Lin Qinghe couldn't help but smile.

After laughing, he realized it was inappropriate and quickly lowered his head.

"Your injury cannot be surgically treated for three days."

Chen Mu said, "I can't do it."

Lin Qinghe looked up.

"Where do you want to go this time?"

Chen Mu looked outside the tent.

The sound of horses' hooves was already approaching in the distance.

"The Black Tiger Battalion is here."

Lin Qinghe's expression changed.

Although she knew nothing about military affairs, she had heard of the Black Tiger Battalion.

That's not someone to be trifled with.

Chen Mu tried to stand up, supporting himself on the edge of the bed.

Lin Qinghe grabbed his shoulder.

"You can't move!"

Chen Mu looked at her.

Lin Qinghe placed her hand on his shoulder, her eyes reddening again.

"If you reopen the wound, I really won't be able to stitch it up anymore."

Chen Mu said, "Then don't sew it."

Lin Qinghe was so angry that she almost burst into tears.

"Why are you like this?"

Chen Mu remained silent.

Suddenly, Zhou Tie's voice came from outside the tent.

"Chief Chen".

"Han Zhao has arrived."

Lin Qinghe's hand slowly loosened.

She knew she couldn't stop them.

Chen Mu stood up.

I had just stood up when everything went black for a moment.

Lin Qinghe immediately helped him up.

This time, Chen Mu did not push him away.

Lin Qinghe picked up his outer robe and draped it over his shoulders.

The movements were very gentle.

As if afraid of breaking him.

"At least put your clothes on."

Chen Mu glanced down at her.

Thank you.

Lin Qinghe turned her face away.

"Come back to change the dressing."

Chen Mu asked, "What if they can't come back?"

Lin Qinghe glared at him suddenly.

"Then I'll misspell your name on the wounded soldiers' register, so you won't rest in peace even in death."

Chen Mu smiled.

"Then I'll try my best to come back."

He stepped out of the medical tent.

The wind and snow rushed towards us.

The list of merits was already surrounded by people.

The Black Tiger Battalion's three hundred cavalrymen stopped outside the fortress gate.

Han Zhao, who was in the lead, dismounted, his black cloak fluttering in the snow, and his gaze swept over the list of successful candidates.

He read very slowly.

I paused when I saw Chen Mu's name.

When he saw the inscription "Seventeen soldiers of the Fire Station Battalion who died in battle are posthumously awarded minor merit," he suddenly smiled.

"interesting."

"Do the dead men of the cookhouse deserve to be credited with merit?"

The crowd fell silent.

The old soldiers of the cookhouse blushed, but dared not speak.

Han Zhao raised his hand.

A Black Tiger Camp cavalryman stepped forward and reached out to tear down the notice.

My hand had just touched the list.

A long spear came hurtling through the wind.

The spear tip grazed the back of the cavalryman's hand and embedded itself in the wooden post.

Fresh blood flowed down the back of the cavalryman's hand.

Everyone turned around.

Chen Mu stood in front of the medical tent, wearing an outer robe, his face pale, with Lu Shuangyi's personal guard deputy hanging at his waist.

He looked at Han Zhao.

The voice was not loud.

"The chart-breakers".

"The crime will be punished according to the record of military merits."

Han Zhao squinted.

"You're Chen Mu?"

Chen Mu drew his spear.

"Yes."

Han Zhao smiled.

"A sergeant who came from a kitchen battalion dares to talk to me about military law?"

Chen Mu walked over step by step.

The wound is bleeding again.

But he walked very steadily.

Military law does not discriminate based on background.

"It all comes down to whose hand touched what it shouldn't have."

The smile on Han Zhao's face slowly faded.

Chen Mu stood before the list of military merits.

Behind them lay the snow where the cooks had knelt.

In front of him were three hundred riders from the Black Tiger Camp.

He slammed his spear to the ground.

"Captain Han."

"You can come to patrol, that's fine."

"You tear down the list."

"First, ask the thirty-seven barbarians who died at the South Gate last night if they agree."