The sounds of battle, faintly audible at first, had faded over the past few days from shocking to a dull numbness. Qi Yue stared at a soldier convulsing nearby, now still, his cries ceasing. She felt utterly numb. How many more had there been?

"Master, Master, the bleeding won't stop! It won't stop!"

Hu San's hoarse shout came from beside her. Qi Yue looked over blankly to see Hu San pressed entirely onto a wounded man, yet blood still surged out, instantly drenching Hu San in crimson.

It won't stop... it won't stop.... Nothing matters.... Nothing is useful....

"Someone! Is there anyone here? A doctor! Where is the doctor? Hurry and save them..."

The cries echoed from all directions, growing louder and louder, pounding painfully against her eardrums.

Qi Yue scanned the surroundings. The previously open ground was now littered with bodies, as if a rain of blood had fallen. Everywhere she looked was a sea of red: some lay lifeless beneath the bloody deluge, others writhed within it, their life force draining away.

"Divine Healer."

A figure rose from the mass of bodies on the ground, also smeared crimson like Hu San.

"How do you feel?" he asked coolly, his expression as indifferent as ever. "Unleash your divine skills. Save these people."

Save them... save them...

Qi Yue looked down at her own hands, hands slick with blood.

Hurry and save them!

She finally let out a raw, choked cry, tears bursting forth. She clutched her chest and sank down, doubling over in agony.

Can't save them....... Can't save them.......

What was this feeling?

Despair!

Seeing Qi Yue collapse in distress, Hu San lunged from the side, seizing Qiao Minghua by the collar.

"Are you even human! Is this the time to talk about that!" he shrieked.

Qiao Minghua glanced toward Qi Yue, then pushed Hu San away and walked to the side.

"This one is beyond saving," he stated after swiftly examining a casualty, then moved toward another without looking up.

"This one is beyond saving..." "This one is beyond saving..." "This one can still be saved! Bring all the medicine here!"

"But sir, this one is still alive! Shouldn't we use the medicine on him?"

Qiao Minghua didn't lift his head.

"He'll die soon enough," he replied, extending a blood-soaked hand. "Bring the medicine here."

These exchanges continued, gradually drowning out the agonizing wails and screams—or rather, they drowned them out because those who screamed either died or lost consciousness.

No, perhaps it wasn't that the cries were drowned out, but simply that those making the cries were now dead or unconscious.

The fighting had stopped at some unknown point.

"The rebel scum have retreated! The rebel scum have retreated!"

When this shout spread, it signaled the end of the soldiers' days-long defense. Victory was theirs, and a wave of joyous celebration instantly swept across the land, eclipsing all prior suffering.

But for Qi Yue, or rather, for the military doctors, there was little elation. The bodies of the fallen soldiers were being carried away, one after another.

"He's alive! He's still alive!" A'ru desperately blocked two auxiliary soldiers from taking the man she was tending.

The auxiliaries looked at her helplessly. It was the first time they had seen a woman working behind the lines, and they were unsure how to proceed.

"Are you idle?" Qiao Minghua strode past and demanded coldly, his gaze falling on the medical basket beside A'ru. "Take that away."

An auxiliary soldier bent down to retrieve it. A'ru held fast.

"He still needs it!" she cried, her voice already hoarse from days of relentless labor.

Qiao Minghua looked down at the soldier on the ground whose life signs were fading rapidly. An arrow had pierced the man's neck, but it wasn't instantly fatal; due to severe blood loss, he twitched occasionally, and the eyes, retaining a faint glimmer of awareness, showed a flicker of longing.

A longing for life? Or a longing for release from this agony?

Qiao Minghua bent down and pressed the arrow shaft. The soldier's eyes snapped wide open, his legs kicked a few times, and he went still.

A'ru’s shriek pierced the air.

"You killed him! You killed him!" she screamed in disbelief, backing away, staring at the military doctor with terror in her eyes—a doctor!

"Carry him away," Qiao Minghua said nothing, ignoring A'ru's outcry, and smoothly snatched the basket containing dressings and medicine from her hand.

The auxiliary soldiers showed no sign of shock or fear at this event; they seemed long accustomed to it. They gently closed the dead man's wide eyes, lifted the body, and walked away.

"Give that back! You don't deserve to use it, you... you aren't saving anyone..." A'ru chased after him, grabbing the basket, shouting.

Qiao Minghua looked at her with stoic indifference.

"A'ru, give it to him," Qi Yue’s voice came from nearby.

A'ru released her grip. Qiao Minghua did not spare them a glance and walked away.

"Mistress," A'ru turned to see Qi Yue rising from the ground. Before her lay a soldier who had just died.

"He isn't killing people, A'ru. He is saving them," Qi Yue said, forcing a grim smile for A'ru. "At a time like this, in a place like this, compassion and reluctance to act are themselves killers. Only an iron heart can truly save lives."

A'ru bit her lip, tears streaming down her face.

"Mistress, we... we can't save them..." she finally wept.

It had been so many days. They watched wounded men brought in, and then watched them carried out. That feeling of utter powerlessness could drive a person mad.

Since she began practicing medicine, since her fame spread from the Qianjin Hall, this was the first time—the very first time—she had seen the supposedly omnipotent Qi Niangzi display such confusion and helplessness, such profound despair...

Nothing mattered. Their famed divine skills could not hold back death here.

Nothing was useful...

Qi Yue remained silent, sweeping her gaze around the scene once more.

So this is what fresh, hot, living wounded soldiers look like... So this hellscape of Asuras is far beyond imagination...

As dawn broke, the battlefield had been cleared. Captured armor and weapons were stacked to one side, being inventoried by auxiliary troops. Carts moved back and forth, transporting supplies, while officers and soldiers called out greetings loudly. Yesterday's brutal fighting seemed like a forgotten dream, leaving no visible trace on them.

Qi Yue had been sitting on the small mound for half the morning, from where she could look out over the desolate, wintry plains outside the fortress.

Footsteps sounded behind her, but Qi Yue paid no mind, assuming it was A'ru and the others coming to check on her, worried.

"Here."

A cool male voice spoke as a hand reached out, offering a waterskin.

Qi Yue did not take it.

"Do you have any wine?" she asked.

Qiao Minghua unhooked his own flask.

"Thanks," Qi Yue took it, opened it, and gulped down several large mouthfuls.

"You seem to have a good tolerance for alcohol," Qiao Minghua observed.

"So, actions are more trustworthy than mere claims, aren't they?" Qi Yue said, wiping the corner of her mouth with her sleeve. Her capacity for drink was perhaps more convincing than her claim to be a Divine Healer.

Qiao Minghua was silent for a moment.

Qi Yue also said nothing, continuing to gaze down the slope. Sunlight had finally pierced the clouds, casting rays onto the scorched earth where patches of brightness glittered.

Those were the traces of blood that had not yet soaked into the ground...

Qi Yue felt a stinging pain, but she forced herself to keep her eyes open and watch.

"I understand now. You aren't a Divine Healer. You are a doctor," Qiao Minghua said from behind her.

Qi Yue smiled faintly.

"Thank you for your recognition, Doctor Qiao. I am honored," she replied.

"Many doctors have come before," Qiao Minghua said, his gaze also falling on the ground below. "Some discreet, some flamboyant, some old, some young. This military medical camp has never managed to keep anyone; the staff is always short. I've begged them—offering money, even persuading superiors to grant official posts—but the moment they heard it meant accompanying the troops into battle, not one would come."

Qi Yue was silent for a beat, then turned to look at Qiao Minghua.

"How long have you been here?" she suddenly asked.

Qiao Minghua frowned slightly, as if thinking hard.

"How long? I came with my Master's Master. I was a child then. Later, my Master's Master left. Then my martial uncles left. Then my Master died, and my martial brothers left..." he murmured. "How long? Twenty years, perhaps?"

Twenty years? Qi Yue was slightly surprised. Qiao Minghua looked to be about forty, but if he was telling the truth, he should only be around thirty.

"You are the first person brave enough to truly commit to accompanying the battle," Qiao Minghua stated. "I take back everything I said about you."

Qi Yue managed a wry smile.

"You don't need to take it back; you were right," she said, lifting the flask again for another sip. The wine was not fine—only harshness, no fragrance—but at this moment, she needed the sting, not the mellow smoothness.

"I truly did think I was omnipotent," she continued, laughing self-deprecatingly. "I truly believed I was a deity descended to save all living beings."

She looked at Qiao Minghua then.

"I even looked down on you," she admitted, shaking her head and laughing. "What right did I have to look down on you? What was there for me to be proud of?"

Qiao Minghua watched her, then tossed her an official tally. Qi Yue reached out and caught it.

"What is this?" she asked.

"Your carriage is packed. The fortress gates open at noon; you can leave then. You should reach Dongjiabao before dark; it's safe there," Qiao Minghua said, turning away. "If you still have the heart for it, look after the wounded soldiers in the rear."

Qi Yue stared at the tally in her hand, then stood up, facing Qiao Minghua's retreating back.

"Hey," she suddenly called out.

Qiao Minghua paused and looked back at her.

"Did you ever have a dream?" Qi Yue asked.

What?

Qiao Minghua frowned.

"You must have had one, Minghua. Minghua—just like your name—the dream was to be a doctor who relieves pain, who brings bright light and strength to people, wasn't it?" Qi Yue pressed.

Qiao Minghua scoffed softly. Women were always so sentimental and inexplicable. He shook his head, took another step, and continued walking.

"Then do you still have that dream now?" Qi Yue continued.

Qiao Minghua did not stop.

"Reality is cruel; it is always more brutal than we imagine. But isn't the very essence of being human having dreams, having hope?"

"Has only twenty years worn away your hope and your dream?"

"Have you accepted your fate? Don't you want to try something, to strive a little harder? Perhaps then you wouldn't be facing lives you cannot keep."

Qiao Minghua halted, turning back to look at the woman standing on the slope, the sunlight illuminating her from behind.

"With what? Just dreams?" he questioned.

"Yes, with dreams," Qi Yue affirmed, then gave a self-mocking smile. "Although, I haven't had a dream myself in a very, very long time."

Numbness—was Qiao Minghua the only one numb? Hadn't she become numb too? The repetitive life, the endless cycle of death and survival, the constant gratitude, the recurring grief.

She recalled her father’s conversation before he decided to perform the cranial surgery on that patient. Everyone had opposed the operation because the success rate was too low, nearly impossible. As a renowned and respected doctor, already comfortably set for retirement, Dr. Qi had absolutely no need to challenge such an impossible feat.

"Dad, do you think you're still young? What's this nonsense about dreams?"

"Yueliang, you are young. What is your dream?"

"...A slight raise in salary, less work... and patients who aren't so difficult..."

"Hahaha! In that case, I truly am not young anymore!"

The surgery ultimately failed. The patient was paralyzed, the family was furious, and the responsibility fell entirely on him. His future and reputation were ruined.

"Do you regret it? For acting when you knew it was likely futile, do you regret it?"

"How can acting when it's known to be futile be something to regret? It’s an honorable thing. At least, the next time someone encounters such a surgery, they will have my example to guide them. That is a good thing, how meaningful! Why regret it?"

"Do dreams really have any use?" Qiao Minghua asked with a smile.

Qi Yue’s gaze drifted past him toward the distance, a faint smile touching her lips.

"Of course, they are useful. It is because we have dreams that we dare to try. It is because we have dreams that we are not afraid of failure. Just like when a man betrays you and you get hurt, but you still hold onto a dream of love—the dream that there will eventually be that one person who understands your true heart and cherishes it—that is why you risk the hurt, the disappointment, and the fear to reach out and accept love again, and only then can you have reward..." she said, smiling softly.

What nonsense was this? Love? Men? Qiao Minghua was momentarily taken aback. Where had this tangent come from? This woman...

He couldn't help but follow Qi Yue's line of sight. Several figures were running toward them from a short distance away, the tallest man leading the group.

Do you still have dreams? Working day after day, a monotonous life, perhaps feeling only pressure—the pressure of always facing a higher peak, the crushing reality that it’s hard for talent to rise from poverty. Fortunately, by a twist of fate, I started writing web novels, like a new world suddenly appearing in a dull existence, a private space where I can escape reality. It feels great. Of course, it only feels great, and I have hope, because readers have been consistently supportive. Otherwise, I would have given up long ago due to the lonely failure. Thank you again for your continued support.

P.S.: This chapter is 3,700 characters long, so I won't push it to 4,000. Consider it a bonus treat, hehe~ Or maybe I was deliberately delaying their reunion until the next chapter, what a cruel stepmother I am, bullying them so much! RS