Transmigrating Between Two Worlds

Chapter 2- Sound of Fate

"Who are you, and why would you accept anything on my behalf?" he said coldly.

I have been wedded to you after I was found unconscious in the medicine field as your Chong xi bride; I too found out recently, so in the very least, I am your wife in name." he replied with another question. "You will accept this marriage?" not knowing his intentions behind asking her this she decided that she would respond sincerely, for this man was all she had in this world.

" I know neither of you nor I chose this, but such is our situation that we are married. Perhaps it is fate; perhaps it is just circumstance. Whatever it be, I just wish to do what is best for both of us. I plan on treating you with sincerity and respect, and you can do the same for me," she said calmly yet sternly. 

 The pale man responded, "I don't know what your intentions are; how do..." she interrupted him and said, "Lan Hua, that's my name I know nothing about you to even harbour ill intent" The man protested "I must speak with the village elders they will-" his voice trembled as he wiced in pain with a hand on his chest. Lan Hua quickly moved closer to him "Are you in pain? Where does it hurt? I remember I assisted a physician before I could help you" This was a blatant lie, but Aneilia had always been an intelligent student pursuing human health studies. She had been trained in first aid in the modern world, and her general knowledge and intelligence from the 21st century made her much smarter than the average person in this time period. she saw blood from around his chest was slowly making his snow white robe crimson. 

Moving his hand away with some force, she saw he had been hiding his wound, which looked a few days old and was definitely infected. A deep gash just below his left shoulder it looked so ugly as it was oozing pus. It needed to be disinfected and cleaned. "That is infected I need to disinfect it; just give me a minute and stay awake" She ran out of the room and thanked the heavens she had gone exploring the house before. She was lucky she had heated up the stove earlier. She warmed up some water and scrambled to put together the things that could help: clean cloth and gauze, a small mortar and pestle from the kitchen, and fresh turmeric. She took it all to his bedside. She found a strange container in the kitchen and smelled it; she was certain it was alcohol. Lanhua ran to the scholar and asked him repeatedly what kind of alcohol it was. "Rice wine," he said lightly, thinking this brazen woman wanted to get drunk at this moment. She ran to the the kitchen and brought back the pot of boiling water slightly burning her fingertips in doing so. Xian saw her entire ordeal silently. In the dimly lit chamber, illuminated only by the soft glow of a single oil lamp, Lanhua prepared to tend to the scholar Xian's wound with a gravity that belied her chirpy and optimistic demeanour. She was only a pre-medicine human health sciences student would she really be able to perform surgery in this time period? She wasn't supposed to be performing surgery at any time period. She had to do something urgently, so she gulped, momentarily clearing her head. She gently loosed his robe, exposing his torso. Not only did this man have an outstanding face, but his physique was not a joke either. She avoided thinking about his abs and focused on the unsightly wound.

First, she gathered a bowl of warm water into the water, mixed a generous amount of the alcohol with a clean cloth soaked in the mixture, and gently dabbed at the wound, her movements deliberate, washing away the pus and filth that had accumulated. Xian, despite his best efforts, could not suppress a hiss of pain as the alcohol touched the raw flesh, but he remained stoically silent, with no option but to trust in Lanhua's care. She seemed like she knew how to tackle the wound. Once the wound was cleaned, she put undiluted alcohol on the most gnarly part of it for good measure. Dabbed it clean and relatively dry, Lanhua turned to the next critical step—cauterization. It was a measure not taken lightly, for the pain it would cause was severe but necessary to prevent the spread of infection. She placed a small knife in the flames of the lamp, watching as the metal glowed with heat. Her heart weighed heavy with the knowledge of the pain she was about to inflict, but her resolve did not waver. "This will hurt," she warned softly, meeting Xian's gaze with a look of deep empathy. She folded a clean cloth and told him to bite down on it to deal with the pain. He nodded, bracing himself against the pain to come. With a steady hand, Lanhua pressed the heated knife to the edges of the wound. The sizzle of burning flesh filled the air, accompanied by Xian's sharp intake of breath. The procedure was swift, but the seconds stretched long in the heavy silence that followed. Once done, Lanhua quickly moved to soothe the cauterized wound with a paste she had prepared earlier from turmeric. The bright yellow mixture, grounded by her own hands, was applied generously over and around the wound, its natural antiseptic qualities a balm against the infection. Finally, she dressed the wound with clean bandages, wrapping them with practised care to secure the turmeric paste in place. With the situation becoming less stress-inducing, she noticed how his body was riddled with scars. Her cold hands gently traced the embossing all his deep wounds had left on his skin. She touched his scars, almost like she wanted to confirm their existence. He coughed lightly; Lanhua whispered words of comfort, her voice a steady presence in the face of Xian's pain. "Rest now," she urged once the task was complete, her own hands trembling slightly from the strain of the ordeal. "You've been brave."

She finally let out a sigh of relief and began to clean up. That unsightly wound wasn't inflicted by accident how had he incurred it? She heard he had been sickly, but a wound of that sort would drain the life out of the healthiest individual, and he had managed to hold on. She also couldn't help noticing some other scars on his chest that once must have been raging wounds, if he was merely a scholar, why had bared all those wounds even though most soldiers don't suffer such deep gashes? Perhaps he was sickly from his physical injuries. She couldn't help but wonder what this man went through to be in such a situation. Xian lay awake with his eyes following her. His adrenaline must be through the roof after what he experienced, thought Lan Hua. Going back to the bedroom after tidying up, she felt her head spin, and she fainted. Xian saw her fall to the ground, but to his dismay, he was not in a position to move. He yelled out her name with all his might, "Lanhuaa!" she did not even move. He tried a few more times whilst trying to sit himself up, to no avail. He mistakenly knocked down a decoration by the bed, startling her, " I am alright", she whimpered. "Husband, are you hungry?" she asked. This foolish woman had worked herself to such exhaustion now she wanted to cook?. Xian wasn't heartless. He said he was fine and perhaps she should rest. The words he used to express his noble intention were not as noble. He said in a serious tone that she should clean herself up as she looked like she worked in the tea fields. Lanhua felt that she had just saved this ungrateful man's life.

She wiped the dust off her clothes and brought out the rice pudding the sisters had brought earlier. She mentioned it was from the Du sisters and made about half of the bowl disappear. Such a simple dish, but it was so yummy. She looked at Xian staring at her and assumed he wanted some, too, so she fed him some. Before he had the time to react, his mouth was savouring the sweetness of the rice pudding. She fed him some more, and just like that, it was over. There was something strange about this woman. She was different, Xian thought. LanHua looked into his eyes, and his unreal visual made her smile a little she felt grateful her 'husband' was pretty handsome at least, but there was something about him she thought was strange. He had never disclosed to anyone what mysterious illness he had been suffering from; his physique was strangely well-maintained. He was muscular but lean, almost like he had a gym membership.

Looking into each other's eyes, they knew the person in front of them was hiding something.