Chapter 22

Chapter 22: Just Say I’m Going to Summon the God

The two captives on the ground were tied up like bundled firewood.

Tu Hua had never seen anything like this.

She’d grown up in peacetime. Watching what happened next almost made her heart jump out of her throat.

The men guarding the captives yanked out the gags to force answers. The instant the prisoners could move their mouths, they tried to bite their tongues and kill themselves.

“Mmph—mmph—!”

Xiong Jiu Shan and Xie Yu Chuan reacted instantly. Each grabbed one captive, clamped their jaws, and wrenched their heads to the side—painful, brutal, effective.

No suicide. Not tonight.

Tu Hua winced. Her own neck hurt in sympathy.

The room reeked of blood. It wasn’t subtle.

Someone was hurt—badly.

And the fact that Xie Yu Chuan was begging her for medicine meant the injured person mattered to him.

The space was divided into two adjoining rooms. Tu Hua was about to speak when someone rushed in and reported to Xie Yu Chuan.

“Sixth Brother—Commandant Xu won’t make it!”

Xie Wu Ying’s voice.

Tu Hua barely turned before a shadow flashed past. Xie Yu Chuan moved like a blade. His sleeve brushed the back of her hand as he passed.

She followed.

On a low bed, the injured man lay death-pale, blue shadows under his eyes. One arm dangled limp off the side. Blood ran from his waist and abdomen down the bed frame, over the footstool, and onto the stone floor in a horrifying trail.

The doctor they’d summoned was drenched in sweat, needles stuck all over the man’s body as he tried to seal acupoints and force the bleeding to stop.

When Xie Yu Chuan arrived, the doctor stood, shook his head, and sighed. “This official has lost too much blood. I am powerless. I can only delay the end for a short while. He… likely cannot be saved.”

Xie Yu Chuan’s face tightened. Tu Hua could feel the fury under his control, the way he forced it down and spoke evenly anyway. “Please, Divine Doctor. Is there no other method?”

The old doctor shook his head. “It’s not that I won’t try. It’s that this wound…” He sighed again, as if words themselves were useless.

Tu Hua stepped closer and examined the injuries: cuts and arrow wounds on the shoulder, right abdomen, and thigh. The worst were the abdominal wound and the arm.

She couldn’t help thinking—old medicine really could save lives in emergencies.

In college, she’d attended a first-aid training session. Her medical knowledge was shallow, but even she knew this: wounds that large needed to be cleaned, closed, and dressed properly. Smearing on some local medicine wasn’t enough. People died from that kind of bleeding.

She could do basic first aid. But she didn’t know whether modern methods and medicine would work here.

And worse—the System had previously forbidden her from touching anyone besides Xie Yu Chuan.

A problem. A sharp, ugly problem.

She wasn’t supposed to handle this herself.

But Xie Yu Chuan had asked. He’d begged her.

Tu Hua asked the System, “Can I save him?”

[Yes. The ward has proactively requested help from the host. Completing the request will grant corresponding points.]

Tu Hua understood, at least roughly.

Her connection to this world ran through Xie Yu Chuan. People and events tied to him could slip past the System’s stricter rules.

A message came in from Xie Yu Chuan.

It was still a string of garbled symbols—somehow packed with complicated emotion.

Tu Hua looked up at the man beside her. He stood rigid, brows drawn tight, lips pressed into a thin line. Coldness seemed to radiate off him.

It was the first time she’d “talked” to him through messages from this angle—standing right beside him, watching his face as he waited for the impossible to answer.

She opened voice chat. “Xie Yu Chuan. Find the right moment. I’ll give you the medicine.”

His eyes flickered. Hope rose fast and raw.

“You’re here? Then… can Xu Su still be saved?”

Tu Hua glanced at the unconscious man. “We can try.”

It was as if warmth finally returned to Xie Yu Chuan’s fingertips.

If the Household God said try, then there was hope. There had to be.

Tu Hua opened her backpack and took out a compact outdoor first-aid kit. Before she took photos and sent anything through item delivery, anything on her that didn’t belong in this world needed to stay unseen.

Still—better safe than sorry.

If she was going to save him, she needed space: disinfect, clean, dress, and bandage. Xie Yu Chuan would have to clear the room.

When she explained, Xie Yu Chuan’s brows knit with difficulty.

Because he wasn’t free.

Xiong Jiu Shan, as the escort constable, would not let Xie Yu Chuan leave his sight—especially after tonight’s incident. To Xiong Jiu Shan, the Xie family’s young general was the biggest danger in the convoy.

Ever since they’d left the city, trouble had piled onto trouble.

They hadn’t even reached Qiu Ling Pass, and Xie Yu Chuan had nearly died to an arrow right under Xiong Jiu Shan’s nose. If he blinked at the wrong time again, who knew what disaster would explode?

Tu Hua said quietly, “If I step in and save him… I’m afraid it’ll scare everyone.”

Xie Yu Chuan fell silent, thinking—then answered in his mind.

“Household God, give Yu Heng a moment. I’ll handle it.”

Tu Hua didn’t know what he planned, but he sounded certain. She swallowed her worries and focused on the worst wounds, deciding what she could do with what she had.

Xie Yu Chuan turned to Xiong Jiu Shan, who hovered nearby, and said, “Official Xiong, may I invite Official Li of Song Jiang to come here for a moment?”

Xiong Jiu Shan’s eyes narrowed. His gaze flicked to Xu Su, then back to Xie Yu Chuan.

Both men had sensitive identities. Official Li might refuse to get involved.

Xie Yu Chuan read the hesitation and said evenly, “Official Xiong, tell him that I, Xie Yu Chuan, intend to summon the god and pray to save a friend’s life. Official Li should be interested.”

Suspicion flashed across Xiong Jiu Shan’s face. It lasted only a moment. Then he nodded. “I’ll send someone.”

He dispatched a subordinate at once.

While Xie Yu Chuan spoke, Tu Hua laid out the contents of the first-aid kit.

She’d heard him say it.

Summon the god.

“You’re going to summon the god?” she murmured. “How do you do that?”

Xie Yu Chuan’s reply—even in silence—practically had a question mark attached.

How?

Set offerings. Light incense. Invite with sincerity.

Did their Household God like a different ritual?

Tu Hua finally realized he’d misunderstood her.

He was planning a public “stage show,” something everyone could see—so she could work in private.