What Bad Intentions can the Yandere Crown Prince have?-Chapter 278 - 274: I Can Still Hold On

A quarter of an hour ago, the signal for retreat had already been sounded.

In Li Mu’s tent, the lights were as bright as day.

Hot water, antiseptic medicine, and other supplies were ready, but the military doctor was not allowed to enter.

Inside the tent, apart from Li Mu, there were only two people.

Tang Xiaobai, and Mo Ji, who was responsible for extracting the arrow and treating the wound.

Since there were no outsiders in the room, Tang Xiaobai removed his mask.

The flickering light seemed to bring back the impression of meeting him for the first time.

Pale and fragile, delicate and easily shattered.

But this time, he was far more seriously injured than when they first met.

The arrowhead was completely embedded in the flesh, and every breath made the blood surge, shocking to behold.

Fortunately, the arrow hit his right chest, otherwise...

Tang Xiaobai dared not think further.

"I’m okay..." Li Mu said softly, weakly holding her hand.

Hearing this, Mo Ji, who was using scissors to cut through the wound, glanced over.

Tang Xiaobai was so distraught that she didn’t notice Mo Ji’s gaze.

She tightly clasped his hand with hers, feeling it far less warm than usual, and added another hand.

With both hands, she held his hand tightly and softly asked, "Is it cold?" Her voice trembled slightly.

Li Mu weakly curled his lips and shook his head, comforting her, "Don’t be afraid."

Tang Xiaobai took a deep breath, smiled, touched his forehead soothingly, and said gently, "Don’t be afraid either, it didn’t hit any vital parts, it just hurts."

Li Mu’s eyes lit up with a smile, shaking his head, "It doesn’t hurt."

Tang Xiaobai smiled slightly.

How could it not hurt?

"You’ll feel better after drinking the Powder for Anesthesia in a moment." Tang Xiaobai continued to comfort softly.

"Okay." He replied meekly and softly.

Mo Ji silently withdrew his hand that was reaching for the arrow shaft.

The Powder for Anesthesia had not yet been delivered, but there was an uproar outside.

"Upon hearing that Young Master Qin was injured, Prince Jin has come to visit."

Tang Xiaobai’s heart tightened.

If Li Shu didn’t take advantage of the little master’s injury to do something, it wouldn’t suit his villainous position.

"Why can’t I go in to visit?" Li Shu’s tone gradually hardened.

Qin Rong was still trying to stop him.

Could he be stopped?

Tang Xiaobai was anxiously pondering, suddenly feeling her hand being squeezed.

Looking down, she saw his gaze calm and steady, no longer with the fragile, breakable feeling from before.

After reassuring her with a look, he turned to Mo Ji and said, "Extract the arrow."

"The Anesthetic Soup hasn’t arrived yet!" Tang Xiaobai exclaimed.

Without anesthesia, pulling out an arrow would be excruciating, wouldn’t it?

"No matter," Li Mu was about to say "it doesn’t hurt," but then his gaze flickered and he changed his words, "If you talk with me, it won’t hurt as much."

Tang Xiaobai heard his voice grow weak again, feeling both pained and anxious: "What should I talk about—"

As she barely said a few words, she heard him groan, his face turning ashen.

Tang Xiaobai dazedly looked up.

The arrow... had already been extracted...

Mo Ji held the arrow in his right hand and tossed it aside, his left hand pressing acupoints around the wound. After discarding the arrow, his right hand conveniently grabbed gauze to wipe the blood, while his left hand, after finishing with the acupoints, reached for a medicine bottle and tapped the bottom to sprinkle some powder.

The entire process was seamless, his face remaining unperturbed throughout.

Tang Xiaobai was stunned.

Previously, she was puzzled as to why the little master didn’t let the skilled Qin Rong treat his wounds. It turned out Mo Ji was also an expert!

Not to mention, Mo Ji’s strength lay in his steady emotions and swift actions.

If Qin Rong were here, he would inevitably say a few words, not necessarily words of comfort.

It was better to have Mo Ji silently finish the task in no time.

Indeed, it was over in a few moments. 𝑓𝑟ℯ𝘦𝓌𝘦𝘣𝑛𝑜𝓋𝑒𝓁.𝑐ℴ𝓂

The little master hadn’t even had the chance to groan in pain before Mo Ji detachedly tore open his clothes.

"Rip!"

The sound of fabric tearing plunged the tent into an awkward silence.

The little master, seemingly unaware of the pain, lowered his eyes without a word, his ear tips so red they seemed about to bleed.

Tang Xiaobai hadn’t thought much initially, but his silent reminder made her feel embarrassed, so she averted her gaze.

Before turning away, she caught a glimpse of some things.

A young man’s physique... really wasn’t much to look at.

In terms of observation, there were only two words: white, thin.

It seems he had grown in height over the years but hadn’t gained much weight.

However, the little master practiced martial arts, so he wasn’t overly weak.

He still needed to eat more, Tang Xiaobai thought.

"Alright." Came his low voice beside her.

When Tang Xiaobai turned back, Li Mu was sitting up from the bed with Mo Ji’s help, covering his clothes.

His pale, blood-drained face was tinged with an unnatural blush, his head still lowered without looking at her.

"Why are you getting up?" Tang Xiaobai frowned.

"With everyone outside, I must meet them." Li Mu said.

As soon as he finished speaking, Li Shu’s voice was heard again from outside: "If there’s another attack, who will command the army?"

This question struck the ground decisively, leaving no one to answer momentarily.

Li Mu raised his head and said coldly towards the outside, "No need to trouble Prince Jin; Qin Xiao is still alive."

The outside fell silent.

Tang Xiaobai silently draped the Xuan Mink Cloak over him, feeling a pang in her heart as her gaze swept over his still somewhat tender and slender shoulders.

"Since it’s nothing serious, why avoid seeing Prince Jin who personally came to visit?" Someone outside still questioned aggressively.

Li Mu caught sight of Tang Xiaobai hiding behind the screen, coughed, and said casually, "Sister, please invite Prince Jin in!"

...

Behind the screen was the dark.

From the dark looking to the light, even with the screen, human silhouettes and outlines were clearly visible.

Tang Xiaobai watched the little master sitting on the couch, the image of his pale, weak, and bloody self from not long ago frequently flashing before her eyes.

But now, his posture remained upright and elegant, his tone while conversing with Li Shu as steady as usual, refusing to show any weakness.

The more he was like this, the more Tang Xiaobai’s heart ached for him.

The little master had just turned sixteen, struck by an arrow on the battlefield, only to have it bandaged up, had to muster his spirits as if nothing had happened and face the enemy’s probing.

Too exhausting...

Tang Xiaobai felt her eyes grow hot and sore with compassion, so she lowered her head to rub her eyes.

When she looked up again, she inadvertently met Mo Ji’s eyes.

She wasn’t familiar with Mo Ji because he rarely appeared in front of people, and when he did, he barely spoke, showing expressions even less.

At the moment, Mo Ji was expressionless, but there seemed to be something in his eyes.

Tang Xiaobai raised her eyebrows and silently inquired.

Mo Ji turned his face away.

Tang Xiaobai could only ponder his previous look herself.

It seemed... perhaps it was... pity?

Why would Mo Ji pity her?

...

Li Mu quickly dismissed Li Shu, then called Qin Rong in and instructed, "Just keep an eye on Li Shu; the camp’s defense should be the same as usual. Ashina Duoduo’s raid was likely for seizing supplies. In their hurried retreat, they didn’t even notice I was hit; they probably won’t come back for another probe."

"What if he does come back?" Qin Rong had a certain contrary spirit.

"We have eighty thousand troops," Li Mu said lightly, "I am not dead yet."

Qin Rong glanced at the young Miss Tang emerging from behind the screen, smiled meaningfully, and said, "Just the way you looked when I returned, I truly thought you were dying!"

Li Mu felt a chill down his neck, immediately pressed his wound, and his tone weakened a bit: "I can still hold on..."