Chapter 15

"Buzz~" The moment Qin Laohu pulled the trigger, he felt a tingling sensation in his palms. In that instant, three crossbow bolts shot out like three streaks of cold light, embedding themselves deep into the trunk of a large tree with a series of thuds.

There were about fifty to sixty soldiers gathered at the scene, but at that moment, they all fell silent, their mouths half-open, staring in shock at the three bolts embedded deep in the tree. All that could be heard was the sound of them swallowing hard.

"Good stuff!" Qin Laohu frowned as he looked at the three bolts, couldn't help but exclaim in approval, and picked up the crossbow, examining it from all angles. The more he looked, the more he liked it. He then said, "Go back and draw the plans. When Liu Cheng returns, we'll send them to the palace together!"

"Uh! I'm afraid that's not possible!" Zhao Chen wiped a bead of cold sweat from his forehead and quickly explained, "You should see those springs on it. That's something I can't make..."

Kun Laohu was good in every way except for one: whenever he saw something useful for the court, he immediately wanted to send it to Li Er, acting like a loyal minister.

Can springs be made so easily? That involves a lot of technical knowledge. Even Zhao Chen found the process of making springs headache-inducing, let alone being able to make them now.

Kun Laohu's face immediately darkened. He pointed at the four springs on the crossbow and demanded, "If you can't make them, how do you explain this?"

"That's a gift from my master, apparently from one of his close friends!" With no other choice, Zhao Chen had to continue using his non-existent master as an excuse.

"What a waste!" Kun Laohu, who had just found the crossbow very appealing, suddenly felt it was like a chicken rib, becoming less and less appealing the more he looked at it. In a fit of anger, he threw the crossbow to Zhao Chen and stormed off.

Red eye disease! Kun Laohu was suffering from red eye disease. Once he heard it couldn't be mass-produced, he didn't even bother to hide his disappointment. Only someone with red eye disease would act like Kun Laohu.

Zhao Chen re-strung the crossbow and hid it under his robe, his mood instantly brightening. Now, with a chainmail shirt and a highly lethal crossbow, he wasn't afraid of that madman's sneak attack.

To be absolutely sure, he would find a way to coat the bolts with snake venom. "I'll shoot you, you bastard!"

Just as he was thinking this, a group of people appeared outside the camp. There were about ten of them, all armored, but they were carrying a simple stretcher. On the stretcher lay an old man, his chest and abdomen stained with blood.

"Out of sight, out of mind! Out of sight, out of mouth! Out of sight, out of ear!" As soon as Zhao Chen saw them, these three phrases flashed through his mind. He bent down, clutched his crotch, and quickly disappeared from everyone's sight, using the excuse of needing to urinate.

From a distance, hiding behind a rock on the mountain, he saw Kun Laohu come out of the wooden house and speak to the old man on the stretcher. The old man was then carried into Kun Laohu's house.

After a while, Kun Laohu came out of the house, looked around, and suddenly pointed at Zhao Chen hiding on the mountain, angrily shouting for him to come down immediately.

"Go ahead, you try!" Zhao Chen rolled his eyes at Kun Laohu's command, muttered under his breath, and reluctantly came down.

It turned out that the group had come from the palace to deliver an edict to Kun Laohu. Unfortunately, they encountered the madman on the way. In the ensuing fight, the old man's chest and abdomen were slashed by a sword, nearly eviscerating him. Although he narrowly avoided being eviscerated, he was in a dire state.

Kun Laohu knew that Zhao Chen had some medical knowledge. A few days ago, Zhao Chen had used a pill and a bottle of wine to relieve his joint pain. The herbal medicine he had been drinking morning, noon, and night was also prescribed by Zhao Chen. Therefore, Kun Laohu wanted to see if Zhao Chen could treat the old man's injuries, as the old man was sent by the emperor.

"I need to see the injuries to know!" Zhao Chen didn't want to get involved in trouble. This old man was clearly someone close to Li Er, and he wanted to stay as far away from such people as possible to avoid trouble.

But then he thought, this old man had fought the madman and only received a slash to the chest. Zhao Chen knew how terrifying the madman was, which meant the old man was also a skilled fighter.

If he could get such a skilled person to owe him a favor, it would be worth taking a small risk. With this in mind, Zhao Chen agreed, but didn't make any promises, in case he couldn't treat the old man.

Kun Laohu glared at Zhao Chen. After spending some time together, he had a good understanding of the young man's character. Seeing Zhao Chen's eyes darting around, he knew the young man was up to something. After some thought, the answer was clear.

Zhao Chen felt a bit puzzled by Kun Laohu's glare, thinking, "That's strange! What I said is true. You need to see the injuries to make a diagnosis. I've never heard of a doctor making a diagnosis without seeing the injuries, unless they're a quack."

But seeing Kun Laohu storm into the wooden house, Zhao Chen scratched his chin and awkwardly followed him in.

The wooden house was filled with a thick, bloody smell. The injured old man lay on Kun Laohu's bed, his face pale and frightening, like a sheet of white paper.

His chest and abdomen were soaked in blood, with a shocking sword wound running from his shoulder blade to his rib. The flesh was torn open, revealing the white bone inside, and blood was still gushing out.

Seeing this bloody scene, Zhao Chen's face turned pale. It was the first time he had seen such a scene, and his stomach churned, making him feel weak. He quickly leaned against the wall for support.

The old man had initially harbored some hope, but seeing Zhao Chen's weak state, a bitter smile appeared on his pale face, and the hope in his eyes quickly faded.

"Boy, is there any way to save him?" Kun Laohu, standing beside Zhao Chen, naturally felt his unease but still clung to the last bit of hope, frowning as he asked.

"Old sir, how long can you hold on?" Zhao Chen ignored Kun Laohu and asked the old man on the bed.

As soon as he spoke, he realized it was inappropriate. Before Kun Laohu could get angry, he quickly added, "I mean, can you wait a little longer?"

"If the young sir has a way to save me, I can wait until tomorrow!" The old man's eyes, which had just dimmed, suddenly lit up with hope.

It turned out to be an old eunuch! No wonder such a severe injury couldn't kill him!

"Boy, if you can treat him, why wait?" Kun Laohu was puzzled. His meaning was that if Zhao Chen could treat the old man, he should do it immediately.

Why? Why? Why so many questions? If I could tell you I'm going to read a book to learn, would you believe me?

"It's like this. I saw my master use this method to stitch wounds a long time ago, but it's been so long that I need to think about it carefully."

Pushing all the questions back to his non-existent master, Zhao Chen hurriedly left Kun Laohu's house before he could get angry.

Back in his own room, he quickly found a surgery book from the supermarket and studied it under the table. Unfortunately, medicine is a deep and complex science, and Zhao Chen, a layman, couldn't understand it just from reading.

Fortunately, the supermarket also had instructional videos. Zhao Chen bought a CD and a CD player and watched the videos under the table.

Zhao Chen was gone for about half an hour. Kun Laohu paced back and forth, anxious but unable to do anything. He couldn't go to Zhao Chen's room, as he didn't want to disturb his thinking and had given an order that no one could approach.

After waiting a while longer, just as Kun Laohu was about to go out again, he saw Zhao Chen enter with a wooden tray, looking serious. On the tray were a snowflake blade he had seen the day before, a strange pair of scissors, a curved embroidery needle, a ball of strange thread, a roll of white silk, and a bottle of medicine.

When Kun Laohu saw Zhao Chen enter, his anxious heart suddenly calmed down, a strange phenomenon that surprised even him.

The old man on the bed, seemingly unaware that the young man in front of him was a quack who had only watched a video, smiled what he thought was a kind smile.

Zhao Chen sighed inwardly, wondering why he had become a quack. He had always detested quacks!

Kun Laohu left the room on his own, even though he was curious to see how Zhao Chen would treat the sword wound. He could tell the young man was nervous.

He lay down on a chair outside, listening to the sounds inside. After a while, he heard the old man's cries of pain, long and short, making Kun Laohu's scalp tingle.

The old man had come from the palace, and Kun Laohu knew how terrifying it was there. The fact that the old man was in such pain made Kun Laohu shudder.

After a long time, Zhao Chen finally emerged, looking exhausted, drenched in sweat as if he had just been pulled out of water.

Kun Laohu was about to ask, but saw Zhao Chen stumble to one side, lean against a tree, and vomit violently.

"Unreliable boy!" Kun Laohu scolded, but his eyes showed a bit of affection, as if looking at his own nephew.

The old eunuch was completely drained, his voice hoarse. He began to understand why the young man had looked at him with sympathy when he first entered.

What had just happened was a nightmare for him, like a trip to hell. Thinking about the young man's words that he would need to remove the stitches in seven days, the old eunuch suddenly wanted to die!