The unending parade of wounded men was not the only thing Maomao had to worry about at work.
“Nooo! Don’t wanna go back to work!”
“No, Master Lakan! You’re going back!”
The freak strategist’s aide Onsou was attempting to pry him away from the post to which he clung like an oversized cicada.
You can do it, Onsou! Maomao thought, privately cheering him on as she made some ointment.
“We need you to wrangle that predator as well as you can, to spare us even a little of the chaos we now find ourselves in.”
And just how am I supposed to do that?
The old doctor’s words had left her feeling lost. One thing she did have to do, however, was her work. She ignored the cicada-esque thing and went on making salves.
As usual, there was no lack of wounded in the medical office. There would be at least four or five major injuries each day, one or two of which would be hard to chalk up to training accidents. Those cases tended to be all the more obvious because, when asked for details, the people involved had a tendency to trail off.
One might think that when the apex predator returned, things would quickly go back to normal, but that predator was busy playing cicada. The main outcome was that when the freak strategist was around, everybody avoided him and went to a different medical office, so Maomao’s workload got lighter.
Let’s see, what else do we need?
Compresses and medicine for wounds were in frequent demand, so they had to be sure they didn’t run out. She also needed to help the physicians, though, so it was hard to build up a stock.
When the old fart clinging like a cicada to the post was gone, Dr. Li came back, dripping sweat. Beside him was a young soldier who looked pale.
“I thought you were off today,” Maomao said.
“I am, so I was training at the practice grounds.”
When he wasn’t even a soldier—what was that about? Maomao didn’t voice the question.
“All right. Who’s that with you?”
“He was on the grounds too, so I brought him over. You might remember him as the young man with a wooden sword in his belly from a little while ago. We told him to come back every day so we could check how his abdomen was doing, but he never did, did he?”
“No, he didn’t.”
Only then did Maomao register that it was indeed the same soldier. She and Dr. Li looked at him.
“You sewed me up, so I’m doing just fine. Don’t worry about me. It’ll get better in good time,” he said.
“Is that so?” Maomao asked. For all that, he didn’t look very good.
“Let’s have a look.” Dr. Li pinioned the young man. Maomao undid his belt and the bandages around his belly.
“Ugh, it stinks!” she exclaimed.
“What did you say?!” he demanded.
“Forget changing the bandages—it smells like you haven’t even taken a bath since we worked on you!”
“That’s the trouble with young men!” Dr. Li added. “They have such good metabolism, and it gives them the worst body odor! At least wipe yourself down from time to time!”
“Wh-What’s going on? First you pin me, then you strip me!” The young soldier struggled, but the outrageously bulked-up Dr. Li was too strong for him.
“Maomao, go get another doctor. We’re going to change these bandages right now.”
“Yes, sir!”
Maomao went to the next room and dragged a physician back with her.
The bandages, which they had wrapped tightly to stop the bleeding, released an even more overpowering smell as they were undone.
“Looks like it’s a bit infected,” Maomao remarked. “Did you do any strenuous exercise? Some of the stitches have broken.”
“Did you take your anti-infectives?” Dr. Li asked.
“I wish you wouldn’t treat it this way,” the other doctor grumbled. “When it never heals, you’ll blame us. Okay, shall we stitch him back up?” This physician was a stubbly man somewhere in his thirties.
Unlike in the rear palace, the doctors in the outer court were usually quite accomplished. Moreover, those who worked near the training grounds saw crowds of patients every day, and worked with an eye toward efficiency. It was practically pleasant to watch the way they went about their business with no wasted movement.
“We’re done cutting away the infected area and cleaning the wound. Here’s the needle,” Maomao said, offering the two men tools; they started sewing.
The young soldier had been given a bandage to bite on. He had bruises here and there, though whether they were from training or from something else was impossible to say.
They only needed to resew one spot, so the work was quickly done.
“If you don’t change your bandages it’ll never heal, no matter how long you give it,” Dr. Li admonished the young man.
“And I wish you’d take your medicine. That’s what it’s for,” added the other doctor.
“Please make sure you return the trousers and underpants we loaned you the other day,” Maomao chipped in. She seemed to have struck a nerve, because the young soldier went bright red. He probably didn’t care to be reminded that a man of his age had wet himself.
Dr. Li cornered the young soldier. “Now, forgive me for interrogating you when we’ve just sewn you up, but could you tell us who did this to you? Everyone disappeared in such a rush last time. It left us in quite a tizzy.”
“It was just a little mishap during training. It doesn’t matter who did it.”
“Excuse me? Someone was obviously trying to kill you! You had a broken wooden sword stabbed in your belly. You’re only lucky it didn’t lacerate any internal organs!”
Maomao and the stubbly doctor both nodded.
“From your speech, I take it you’re from I-sei Province,” Dr. Li said. Having spent a year there, it was easy for him to catch the accent.
The young soldier fell silent.
“Which would suggest the perpetrator was from the central region,” the stubbly doctor said, stroking his chin. “Ugh! I wish they’d find somewhere else to have their proxy battles. Aren’t you angry at them for beating you up like that? Man up and report them!”
“If I do that, all that will happen is they’ll beat me black and blue,” the young soldier spat. “Among us soldiers, the weak are at fault for being weak. Being strong is the only thing that matters.”
Maomao could understand what he was saying, but if that logic was going to result in major injuries, she did want to resolve the matter. This wasn’t just a problem for the troops; it also meant more work for the physicians.
The young soldier was proving unexpectedly stubborn. They would have to insist that he at least change his bandages and take his medicine. If he didn’t want to bother them with it, that was nice of him and all, but if it made his wounds worse, it would only mean more trouble in the long run.
Speaking of people who bother us...
Maomao found herself thinking of Jinshi. If this young man had let them change his dressings as often as Jinshi had let her change his, he’d be better by now.
She still hadn’t heard anything from Jinshi about the jade. She assumed he would contact her if he learned something.
With that thought in mind, she started preparing anti-infectives to give to the young soldier.
Maomao wasn’t specifically fond of gossip, but she didn’t have any aversion to it either. At the same time, though, she wasn’t interested in hearing the same thing over and over. But there were those who would gamely explain something to you even if you told them politely that you already knew the story and didn’t need to hear it again.
“Well, now, let’s see. The military has been a pillar of the Empress Dowager’s faction in the past, but, gee, these last few years, Empress Gyokuyou has begun to come into her own, and the folks from I-sei Province are starting to throw their weight around.”