Volume 1, Chapter 56: The Crossbow

Without the crossbows, the remaining dozen or so men were dispatched by Xue Nian and Shen Ran almost as easily as chopping vegetables and melons within no time.

Wang Yan held the fading Zhou Man-Cang, taking him and Goudan back to the Zhou household first.

A personal guard rushed off at top speed to fetch a physician.

Shen Ran and Xue Nian, however, did not leave immediately.

Their earlier guess was spot on; these bandits were clearly abnormal.

Xue Nian ordered his men to collect the three crossbows scattered on the ground, and then instructed the guards to search the bodies of the bandits one by one to see if there were any valuable findings.

During this time, he and Shen Ran sat beneath a tree, lowering their heads to gaze at his own shoulder.

Given the critical situation earlier, there had only been time to snap the arrow shaft; the arrowhead was still embedded.

The pain was heart-rending, akin to death by a thousand cuts.

Xue Nian drew the scimitar from his waist, attempting to gouge the arrowhead out.

Shen Ran suddenly said, "You go find a physician to have this treated. I will stay here, it's all the same."

Xue Nian paused slightly, then let out a light laugh.

Slowly, he replied, "If I go back and leave Your Majesty here to handle the aftermath, I fear I won't die from the arrow wound, but rather straight from the Great General's whip."

Shen Ran was slightly taken aback.

Although Xue Yuandao was fiercely loyal, he was pedantic and stubborn to a fault, training his son just as he trained his soldiers. As his son, Xue Nian reaped few benefits while bearing the brunt of the dirty and exhausting work; any slight impropriety in his actions would immediately earn him a beating with boards or a lashing with the whip.

Furthermore, Xue Yuandao believed that a military commander should lead by example and set a standard for all others, especially by being utterly impartial and selfless. To demonstrate his absolute refusal to show favoritism, whenever his own son committed an offense, the punishment was invariably harsher than that dealt to anyone else.

For instance, for the exact same infraction, ordinary soldiers would receive thirty blows, while Xue Nian would get at least forty, or even fifty.

Shen Ran could never understand how, under such high-pressure discipline from Xue Yuandao, Xue Nian's temperament could remain as warm and radiant as the morning sun.

This was also something he had deeply envied about the other man in his past life.

The Empress Dowager pinned all her hopes on rising in status through her son, relying on him to achieve greatness overnight, and thus treated him with extreme severity. If he failed to memorize his texts, he went without food; if he failed to draw his bow fully, he was forced to kneel under the scorching sun without even a drop of water. Should the Grand Tutor or Shen Jianning utter a single word of criticism against him, it would be even worse—over the next few days, he wouldn't be able to find an inch of undamaged skin on his body.

Afterward, the Empress Dowager would hug him and weep, claiming she did all this for his own good and poured her entire heart and soul into him, and that if he failed to bring honor, she might as well hang herself by the neck.

As this went on year after year, his personality gradually grew sensitive, gloomy, and reclusive.

Though he now seemed capable of putting on a front, he knew very well in his heart that he remained fundamentally that same person.

Yet Xue Nian seemed entirely free of this burden.

He could not detect a single trace of gloom or reclusiveness in the other man.

Xue Nian was like a light that effortlessly drew people toward him, yet to someone as cold-blooded as Shen Ran, getting too close meant being scorched.

Xue Nian could effortlessly mingle with people from all walks of life, whereas Shen Ran found most people intensely irritating.

He had schemed and striven to become Emperor not to bring peace to the realm or ensure the prosperity of the common folk, but solely to be able to draw his sword and slay his enemies at a whim.

Therefore, he was a tyrant.

He had never been willing to endure.

The young man's voice recalled Shen Ran from his thoughts.

Xue Nian smiled and said, "I heard what happened from the guards just now. Your Majesty's archery was divine and rescued me from an urgent plight; I offer my heartfelt thanks here, Your Majesty."

"No need."

Shen Ran glanced sideways at him and said softly, "Even if I hadn't intervened, you wouldn't have died. It's just that your soldiers are far too noisy."

With that, his gaze fell upon the guard sitting beneath the nearby tree—the very man whose wrist bone he had dislocated moments ago. The others were currently carrying out the tasks assigned by Xue Nian, leaving only him sitting dejectedly under the tree.

Knowing the danger, knowing certain death, he had still tried without hesitation to throw himself forward and block the arrow for Xue Nian.

Was it reckless?

Indeed, it was.

Yet stripping away the status of an Emperor, how many people would be willing to be that reckless for him?

Xue Nian followed Shen Ran's gaze and said calmly, "He showed disrespect to Your Majesty; I will punish him when we return."

Shen Ran curved his lips, a trace of sarcasm lingering in his gaze: "Punish him by apologizing?"

Xue Nian replied lazily, "Punish him with the boards. Beat him until Your Majesty's anger subsides."

Shen Ran let out a cold laugh: "Xue Ziqi, which of your eyes saw me get angry?"

Shen Ran fully expected Xue Nian to argue with him for a bit, but to his surprise, the other man complied smoothly—

"Then I was wrong."

"When we return, I shall punish myself with the boards as well."

"If I truly wish to beat someone with the boards, I have no need for others to help administer the punishment."

Shen Ran turned his head, his gaze falling upon Xue Nian's face.

The weather was still bitterly cold, yet beads of sweat covered his forehead in a dense layer, bearing witness to his agony.

And yet, Xue Nian was actually sitting here leisurely, chatting and laughing with him.

What good could beating someone like this with boards possibly do?

Shen Ran lowered his gaze and said indifferently, "General, you had better attend to your own wound first. If you truly manage to get yourself shot dead by an arrow here, the lifelong reputation of the General's Manor will be utterly ruined by your hands, and my Great General might well regret not having beaten you to death with his own hands."

At these words, Xue Nian bit his lip and began to laugh. Beneath his agony, there was still a faint undertone of devil-may-care nonchalance: "Protected as I am by Your Majesty's imperial might, to say nothing of this single arrow, even a few more would be of no consequence."

Shen Ran froze for a moment, then could not help but laugh as well.

He reached out and touched Xue Nian's shoulder.

Unsurprisingly, his fingertips came away wet.

Not with blood, but with moisture.

To be precise, sweat.

In the dead of the bitter winter.

Soaking his garments.

If he were not utterly exhausted, given Xue Nian's personality, why else would he sit here and merely send his guards to search the area?

Slowly wiping the moisture from his fingertips, Shen Ran took Xue Nian's scimitar into his own hand and said lazily, "My imperial might shall naturally protect you."

"So, will you go find a physician now to pull out the arrow?"

"Or shall I simply play the part of a military surgeon and use you to practice my skills?"

"Your Majesty intends to treat my wound personally?"

Xue Nian chuckled and let out a yawn: "That would be the highest honor; who needs a military surgeon then?"

He seemed to place absolute trust in him.

Shen Ran quietly watched the young man before him.

Because he was wearing red garments, Xue Nian's injury did not actually look particularly glaring.

The blood did not shock the eye the way it would on clothing of other colors, creating the illusion that the wound was not severe.

Much like Xue Nian himself.

When his sharp edge was hidden, he gave people a warm, approachable feeling.

But was that truly the case?

Shen Ran used the scimitar to pry open the clothing at Xue Nian's shoulder, revealing the gruesome, blood-stained wound. Although he had mentally prepared himself, upon actually laying eyes on the injury, he could not help but furrow his brows.

The arrow shaft had already been severed, but the arrowhead was embedded deep within the flesh. Pulling it straight out was entirely out of the question.

To do so would undoubtedly sever meridians and cause unstoppable bleeding.

The flesh around the wound had to be sliced open first before the arrowhead could be extracted—and that assumed the point had not pierced into a particularly tricky spot.

Unless one was a physician specializing in blade and arrow wounds, ordinary doctors probably would not dare to take such a risk.

Shen Ran hesitated for a moment.

He had indeed treated arrow wounds before, but that was seven years ago.

Noticing Shen Ran's hesitation, Xue Nian smiled and said, "Perhaps I should just do it myself; I actually have a bit of experience with this sort of injury."

Shen Ran glanced sideways at him: "You're going to just gouge it out directly with a knife?"

Xue Nian asked, "Isn't that how physicians treat it?"

Shen Ran replied, "Even a military surgeon wouldn't dare touch a wound like yours."

And that was the unvarnished truth. As the Junior General, should something go wrong and he ended up crippled or disabled in a way that made drawing a bow or wielding a sword difficult, who could possibly bear the responsibility? Therefore...

Shen Ran raised his eyes to look at him: "You never intended to see a physician at all?"