Chapter 9
Chapter 9: Pretty Men Are Dangerous
Fu Chen An almost got held back at camp that night, barred from leading the charge.
Not because he was wounded.
Because the medicine he brought back worked too well.
In the first daytime push, many soldiers were injured. After hearing Fu Chen An’s explanation, Physician Niu washed his hands, pulled on the soft sterile gloves, and began cleaning wounds.
For shallow cuts, he swabbed the injury with strong liquor, sprayed the medicine on, then gave the soldier one of the pills Fu Chen An had brought.
No fever.
The wound scabbed fast.
Fu Zhong Hai was injured too—his arm sliced open by a cut the length of a finger. It wasn’t deep, but it bled heavily.
Physician Niu cleaned it with liquor, sprayed the medicine, then applied a no-stitch dressing. Fu Zhong Hai went right back into the fight.
When he returned later, the wound hadn’t split open like it normally would. It had drawn tight.
A good sign.
Physician Niu and Fu Zhong Hai stared at it, shaken.
In past battles, by the end of a day, hundreds of wounded soldiers couldn’t return to the field. But now, aside from the severely injured, even lightly wounded soldiers could slap on a no-stitch dressing and keep fighting.
That meant fewer losses. Preserved strength.
An advantage they’d never dared hope for.
So many soldiers didn’t die from blades. They died afterward—wounds festering, fevers rising, injuries rotting until the body gave out.
Fu Zhong Hai pulled Fu Chen An aside. “An Er. You should stay back for the next push. The wounded need medicine, and you’re the only one who can go back to that shop to buy more. If something happens to you, we lose our only way in.”
Fu Chen An thought for a moment, then strapped on an extra layer of leather armor. “Does that ease your mind?”
Fu Zhong Hai stared at him, speechless.
Fu Chen An went anyway.
With the miraculous medicine, morale solidified. Everyone believed small injuries didn’t matter anymore. Treated properly, wounds healed. So the soldiers charged harder.
When Yong Zhou fell, the defending commander couldn’t understand it. “They were supposed to be starving. How are they fighting like this?”
His deputy never answered.
An arrow punched through his chest instead.
Once the city was breached, Fu Chen An’s voice cut through the chaos like steel. “Wealthy households may be looted. No killing civilians. No raping women. Anyone who disobeys will be beheaded!”
“Yes!”
The soldiers surged toward the high-walled compounds, grinning like men released from hunger and rage.
Fu Chen An watched them with cold eyes.
Men who’d been trapped outside the walls and starved for days needed somewhere to pour their fury. Looting without slaughter was already mercy.
He went to find Fu Zhong Hai. “Father Marshal, I’m returning first.”
Fu Zhong Hai looked him over—no serious injuries—and nodded. “Go.”
Fu Chen An returned to Xi Ma Town and immediately met with Physician Niu to confirm the number of wounded and what supplies they needed.
Physician Niu jabbed a finger at the no-stitch dressings. “This—one thousand. No, more. As many as possible. And this, and this, and this…”
He pointed at nearly everything on the table.
Fu Chen An glanced at the sky. It was past midnight. The shop would be closed now. He used the time to write a list.
When the list was done, he remembered something else.
“Men,” he ordered. “Bring me all the gold and silver ingots taken from the wealthy households. And the hairpins, jewelry, and fabric—pick the best. Prepare a batch.”
“Yes!”
The shop didn’t take banknotes. It didn’t want loose silver either. It wanted gold and silver ingots, and copper coins.
As for jewelry and fabric… that young female shopkeeper might like them.
If he wanted the finest medicine, he needed to show sincerity.
He brought the list back to Physician Niu.
Physician Niu read it and frowned. “Can we buy more?”
Fu Chen An blinked. “Isn’t this enough?”
Physician Niu glared. “Enough for today. But next time? Are we going to travel all the way back to Xi Ma Town just to buy medicine again? While we can get it, we buy as much as possible. Understand?”
Fu Chen An’s eyes sharpened. “Understood. I’ll arrange it.”
The next morning, Xiao Ying Chun finished washing up and opened the back door.
Fu Chen An stepped in at once—as if he’d been waiting.
They both paused.
He’d clearly cleaned up: a pale, moon-white robe, hair neatly arranged under a white jade crown, his whole presence sharp and refreshed.
Xiao Ying Chun’s mind supplied four dry words without permission.
Pretty men were dangerous.
She kept her face straight and pointed at him. “You won? So you don’t need armor anymore?”
Fu Chen An’s ears warmed.
He’d noticed her reactions. Today, for his goal, he’d deliberately dressed well. In the past, he would’ve scorned such a tactic.
But behind him were ten thousand soldiers who needed medicine.
If using his face could help—even a little—then so be it.
He pushed a small ornate box across the counter. “This is for you.”
Xiao Ying Chun stared. The box was inlaid with shell and fine gold-and-silver threads. “For me?”
Fu Chen An opened it.
Jewelry filled the interior—hairpins set with gems, earrings, necklaces, rings, bracelets. Cloisonné enamel. Fine filigree. Gem settings. Even baroque pearls, luminous against the metalwork.
Everything was handcrafted with painstaking care, the kind that took time and skill you couldn’t fake.
Xiao Ying Chun’s chest felt heavy. A box like this, in his world, would be worth a fortune.
“Where did this come from?” she asked carefully.
“From last night,” Fu Chen An said. “We searched wealthy households. I picked the prettier pieces and brought you a box.”
Xiao Ying Chun’s brows drew together. “Looted?”
Was it taken off corpses?
The thought made her skin crawl.
Fu Chen An read her expression instantly. “We only took things,” he said, firm. “No killing.”
Xiao Ying Chun’s tension eased—partway. If it wasn’t stained with blood, she could accept it.
She met his eyes. “What do you want?”
“These are a gift,” Fu Chen An said. “I also brought gold and silver ingots. I want to buy more medicine. Can you do it?”
Xiao Ying Chun nodded. “Yes.”
Fu Chen An pulled out a stack of papers and read his list aloud.
Xiao Ying Chun’s scalp tingled. At this scale, she could empty an entire pharmacy and still come up short.
“…That’s too much,” she said. “I’m not sure I can buy that many. In my world, some medicines can’t be purchased in huge quantities without drawing attention.”
Her voice dropped. “It can alert a constable. If I’m unlucky, I could get arrested.”
She took a slow breath and steadied herself. “Wait here. I’ll count what you need, then go ask what’s possible. I’ll come back with an answer.”