Content Warning/Trigger Warning: Non-graphic description of gore.

Also, this Chapter is like, 1.8k words long.

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War. To have not lived through it is a blessing, and one must consider themselves fortunate to live in an era of peace. Unfortunately, however, this was not that era.

Li Xinyuan, a man of talents and modern conveniences, did not know whether to consider himself blessed or accursed. Though born in an era far ahead, he since his early childhood had rarely known peace, owing to the family he was born into.

And when he finally began to leave the dark looming shadow of his family, the surgeon found himself in the cusp of changes; reincarnation and the shenanigans that followed it typically. At a tender age of 17 now, he had already lived through and served in one gruesome war. And was to serve in another.

The sheer scale of war and the magnitude of its cruelty hardly came as an astonishment anymore. Or perhaps life had made a jaded creature of him, who was he to say with certainty?

Hence, the moment they made it to the war front, the surgeon made an immediate beeline for the medical camp. His arrival seemed to have been forewarned, for no one impeded his path.

The moment Li Xinyuan drew near the medical camp, the greeting with reality was immediate.

An apprentice doctor appeared before him swiftly, clad in pallid bluish-green from head-to-toe, and had his hair tied under a white cap; mercifully. He was silent, the man, though no less urgent as he led Li Xinyuan for a change of attire.

As they walked the narrow path, groans and cries and agony followed the howls of winter wind. Blood and filth made breath near impossibility. If listened to closely, Li Xinyuan could hear the cries of wounded men begging for death.

Back stiff, the surgeon glided through the soil and blood slick path, his shoes splashing against the mud, colouring them red and brown. He trembled, breathing a stutter in his chest, heavy as lead. Yet he could not afford rest. Especially not now. Fist curled into a ball and shaking on his sides, he lowered his head, lips pursed thin.

What of these men fighting for a cause perhaps not even their own? Did they have families to return to? A child left behind? A lover waiting for them with dismal hope refusing death? An old mother, an old father struggling to keep their faith?

What were these men, some impaired for life, some broken of mind; if not fodders for a war not their own?

"Doctor Baek?" Li Xinyuan’s head snapped up, for a second, he looked around. They’d crossed the path of agony, and he did not realise. "We are here. Make certain you are appropriately cleaned before you begin your duty."

To that, he could only nod. No point in dallying. "I shall be there in a few minutes."

The apprentice doctor nodded sternly, eyebrows drawn as he turned to leave.

Li Xinyuan, too, turned away from the curtain door of the tent, readying himself for duty mentally.

"Oh, and Doctor Baek." The apprentice turned around, lifting the flap open, gaze scrutinizing the younger doctor up and down, pausing briefly on his face. "You will serve at the third tent. And... I have great expectations of you."

Li Xinyuan could only stand bewildered as the apprentice doctor left, wondering if the hostile undercurrent of his voice was merely his imagination. Then, with a shake of his head, he dismissed the thought. What use was it, to dwell upon things that would not help his duty?

As he washed himself clean and began dressing, careful to keep the clothes moving as little as possible. If something did cause him issue down the line, he could just ask either Liu Mingyun or the Heavenly Demon to set things straight — should it be outside his ability, that is.

For now, though, he could only do his duty and try to minimise casualties as much as he could, whilst praying for this war to end as soon as possible.

Whilst leaving the tent, Li Xinyuan tugged at the glove in his hands and turned to look at the sun sinking between the mountains with a reddish-orange hue scattered across the sky. It was not unlike paint splattered across a white canvas.

Mustering a smile, the surgeon walked towards his assigned tent, purpose in his strides as he drew in a deep bracing breath. The snowfall had stopped, so that was one silver lining in this dismal situation at least?

...

Horror. Agony. Screams.

So many screams.

Had Li Xinyuan not been on active duty, he would have clawed out his ears and dug through his skin while trying to erase this horrific memory. How many days flew by, he lost the track of; how many lives lost, he could no longer keep a count of. Limbs cleaved off, some clean and some barbaricly not, attached and sewn shut, rotting and rotten.

Blood, blood, blood. Everywhere. Cries, screams, pleas unheard by heavens.

Calamity. Disaster. And yet, it seemed so mundane in this era.

Wherever he looked in this tent, all he could see was blood on the floor, dragging entrails, and limbs barely holding on.

"Doctor Baek!" A shrill scream snapped him out of the strange autopilot his body was trapped in. "Doctor Baek! We need you here! The patient is losing far too much blood!"

Like a man possessed, Li Xinyuan turned — whatever thought that may have plagued his clamouring mind abandoned to the back — as he made for the patient, rushing through the narrow path between the rows upon rows of patients lying in the makeshift beds, whimpering and screaming through their agony.

If hell could be brought to earth, then, by all means; this is it. A purgatory of suffering, human and inhuman, grim and bloody, all at once — just without the dramatics of flames burning it all down.

By the time Li Xinyuan made it to the tent when the surgery was to be performed, a hoodlum of doctors, from the Cult and from the nearby regions, were already flowing in and out of the place, all panicked; all of them pale as ghosts under the moonlight.

Just at the flap of the tent, the surgeon skidded to a stop, heart ramming against his chest akin to a relentless beast determined to break through. With a deep, cold breath sucked in, he bit the inside of his cheek and strode to the tent beside it.

Just going into the surgery like this would be completely foolish and risked disrupting the — hopefully — sterile environment of the tent. What he needed to do before going to assist the present doctors was to get himself completely safe for the sterility of the other tent.

"Make it swift," he commanded, firm as he began stripping to remove the clothes on his person and change. "I have little time to spare."

...

To call the injured soldier’s condition dire, would simply be a gross understatement.

Li Xinyuan had not previously understood just how ruthlessly these martial artists fought before serving in this war. Yes, he had weathered through a war before. But compared to this, it was simply a child’s play—even with all its gruesome repercussions.

The patient that he had been operating on for seventeen hours with one or two intervals in between, was someone — if admitted to a modern hospital in the real world, would be untreatable — saved by them solely thanks to the fantastical nature of this world.

His midriff was slashed off his lower body, hanging precariously by a very stubborn group of muscles. And suddenly, faced with all the blood and plasma, hanging and squirming entrails, Li Xinyuan could empathise with the pallid faces of the doctors he’d seen file out.

If not for his self-control, Li Xinyuan too would have had a very similar — if not stronger — reaction.

But now that the surgery was done, and the patient carted off to recovery under observation, Li Xinyuan stumbled out of the tent, his feet shaking with every step, heavy as though made of lead.

Several times, the surgeon barely managed to catch himself before falling to the floor, his head buzzing a low hum, as warning throbs of imminent headaches made themselves known at the back of his head and neck.

His stomach churned, the visceral imagery of the surgery still too fresh in his mind.

As he tumbled back to the tent beside the one used for the operation, Li Xinyuan tore off the surgical mask covering half of his face and fell to his knees by a wooden stool, shuddering. Distantly, through the buzz in his head, he could hear someone rush after him.

But he was too preoccupied to pay them any mind while trying to fight off the nausea.

Inevitably, though, it was a losing battle against his crashing blood sugar, migraines, and nausea. Li Xinyuan gave in, buckling into himself as he bent over a steel bucket and retched into it, searing hot and bitter bile rushed out as if on cue.

Whoever had come by his side wrapped an arm around his shoulder, running a soothing hand down his back.

A few minutes passed, after throwing up whatever was in his stomach — which was essentially nothing — the surgeon coughed, exhausted,and shivering from the cold and from vomiting. His teeth chattered together as he sucked in a sharp breath, chest heaving. His hands shook as he reached to wipe his mouth. 𝙛𝓻𝒆𝓮𝒘𝙚𝙗𝒏𝙤𝙫𝓮𝒍.𝓬𝒐𝙢

Before he could do it, a hand — calloused but warm — intercepted, tugging at his chin to make him look at the person by his side.

"... Your Highness," Li Xinyuan rasped out, the tension coiled like a serpent in his body releasing, "why are you here?"

"A good question." Liu Mingyun’s brows knitted as he pulled out his handkerchief with an imperceptible shake in his hand. "Are you well now?"

Li Xinyuan offered him a weary smile, unprotesting when the Crown Prince began wiping his mouth. "Well, how do you want me to answer that?"

Liu Mingyun’s lips pursed, his face a perpetual picture of dark clouds. So the war had left not even him as unaffected as one would think, huh?

"Do not." With that, he stood, hauling Li Xinyuan with himself, in his arms like a bride, and turned to step out of the tent. "You need rest. I heard from other doctors, you have been skipping meals and rest. As a doctor yourself, do you not know how reckless—"

Glancing down to glare at his betrothed, Liu Mingyun swallowed back any more words of reprimand he had in store, lips pursuing. Li Xinyuan was not going to listen to them. He had fallen — into a fitful — asleep in the prince’s arms. Just like that.

Forget it, Liu Mingyun thought, warmth blooming hot in his chest. He has fallen asleep.