The Song Dynasty on the Sand Table

Chapter 413 The time is not right, and the steed will not go.

Jin Wuzhu was so frightened that he ran faster than a rabbit.

As soon as he ran, the horse with the crook ran too.

Once the cavalryman runs away, the puppet Qi army will run even faster.

And just like that, the pursuers all fled in a flash.

Peng Qi breathed a sigh of relief when he saw the pursuers leave. At this moment, the pain in his abdomen became even more intense, and he could no longer bear it, so he fell off his horse.

His personal guards quickly caught him and gently laid him flat on the ground.

On the other side, Xiang Yu was chasing Jin Wuzhu on horseback, but Jin Wuzhu was no small general. He was also riding a fine horse called "Four-Hoofed Snow-Spotted Fire Dragon Steed", which was blood red like fire with only its four hooves being white. It was also very fast.

In the blink of an eye, they had gone far ahead. Although Xiang Yu's Wuzhui was also a fine horse, when comparing two fine horses, even if there was a difference, it wasn't significant. For a while, he couldn't catch up with Jin Wuzhu.

A moment later, the black horse got tired!

Xiang Yu had already fought two battles, and his horses were already somewhat worn out.

Jin Wuzhu did not participate in the battle; he only stayed behind the lines to oversee the fighting, and his horse was never used.

Xiang Yu was gradually left behind and could no longer catch up.

The black horse was tired and didn't want to run anymore, so it slowly stopped.

Xiang Yu sighed deeply, "The time is not right, and my steed will not go. Let's withdraw our troops and return..."

Soon, Xiang Yu and his party returned to Peng Qi's side.

Peng Qi's eyes were lifeless, blood gushing from his abdomen, and his voice was weak: "Thank you... thank you... nameless general... for the rescue... but I'm afraid I've injured my internal organs, and this injury... I'm afraid... no one can heal me..."

Xiang Yu glanced at his wound and nodded: "He's beyond saving."

Peng Qi: "Just give me a quick death... Thank you..."

Peng Qi's men burst into tears, and the three strongmen cried like female warriors.

Xiang Yu drew his sword in a flash, ready to help Peng Qi.

Just then, his eyes suddenly lit up, and Yue Wenxuan possessed him.

"Huh?" Yue Wenxuan had just switched back to his senses and hadn't quite figured out what was going on. He looked around curiously, his mind racing: What's going on? Why am I holding a sword and trying to kill Peng Qi?

His movements froze, but Peng Qi, thinking he couldn't bring himself to do it, said in a weak voice, "Don't...hesitate...go to my neck...give me a quick death..."

Upon hearing the key phrase "give me a quick death," Yue Wenxuan glanced at his abdomen and understood.

That's it!
*Swish* Sheath your sword!

Yue Wenxuan quickly replied, "General Peng, don't worry. Your injury may be incurable elsewhere, but in our Northern Song Dynasty, there is at least a 50% chance that it can be cured."

"Fifty percent...that high?"

Fifty percent of the time, that's actually a conservative estimate. Peng Qi didn't suffer a gunshot wound, but rather a puncture wound from an arrow. And the fact that he could endure it for so long means that no major blood vessels were damaged. For modern doctors, that would be a piece of cake to treat him, requiring absolutely no effort.

Yue Wenxuan said he only said 50% because he was afraid that if the patient's family didn't get better, they might cause trouble at the hospital.

If we only give them 50% psychological preparation, then medical disputes are less likely to occur.

"Make a stretcher immediately, put General Peng on it, and carry him as steadily as possible. Go to our Northern Song Dynasty to find Young Master Yue."

Peng Qi's hundreds of old brothers were overjoyed. It turned out that the general could still be saved. That was wonderful.

Several hundred people sprang into action, and in no time, a stretcher was ready. Several trusted men were responsible for carrying Peng Qi, their movements careful and steady with every step. They hurried along the road, and by the time they found the Northern Song army, it was already evening.

The Northern Song army had already set up camp.

As soon as Peng Qi and his party arrived at the camp gate, a group of people in white coats came out to greet them: "General Peng, have you arrived? We have been waiting for a long time. Quickly, quickly, get General Peng to the operating table immediately."

Peng Ji's men were somewhat bewildered: How did they know we were coming? They hadn't seen anyone from the Northern Song Dynasty go back to report, yet they had already prepared doctors here?

In the blink of an eye, Peng Qi was placed on the operating table.

Most of Peng Qi's men were not allowed into the operating room and were kept outside. Only three strongmen were allowed to enter the operating room to observe.

Doctor: "Scalpel!"

A nurse nearby handed me a knife...

Doctor: "Wipe your sweat!"

A nurse immediately stepped forward and wiped the sweat from the doctor's forehead.

The three strongmen stared in disbelief as the doctors used scalpels to cut open Peng Qi's abdomen, examining the tripe, gizzard, and intestines, locating the wound, performing a series of incomprehensible procedures, and then using tweezers to hold a needle and thread to sew up the wound on the intestines...

Strongman: "Holy crap? You can treat illnesses like this?"

"No talking during surgery," a doctor snapped. "If you utter another word, you'll be thrown out."

The strongman quickly covered his mouth.

"Phew!" The doctor withdrew his hand. "I declare the surgery a success, but the patient has died."

The strongmen: "..."

The doctor chuckled: "Don't get excited, just kidding, the patient is just asleep."

The strongmen: "Whoosh!"

The doctor said, "You can carry the patient back to the ward to rest now. Pay attention to the following days..." He went on and on about a lot of post-operative recovery precautions, but the three strongmen were too stupid to remember them at all.

They carried Peng Qi out gently, and the hundreds of subordinates waiting outside gathered around to watch. They saw that Peng Qi's complexion had improved, the pain between his brows had disappeared, and he was now sleeping soundly with steady breathing, looking as if he was alright.

The hearts of the hundreds of old subordinates, which had been hanging in suspense, finally began to slowly settle down.

The doctor came out of the operating room, saw so many people gathered outside, and angrily said, "It's just a minor surgery, what are all these family members doing here? Are you here to start a fight?"

Everyone thought to themselves: Weren't we here to fight? We just didn't win.

"Quickly move the patient to the ward!" the doctor snapped. "There are too many people here; it's not good for the patient's recovery."

Upon hearing that it was bad for the patient, the three strongmen didn't dare to delay and quickly carried Peng Qi away, but... where was the ward? They had no idea! What was a ward again?

The three people froze.

Fortunately, Yue Wenxuan appeared. He beckoned to the three strongmen: "Gentlemen, carry General Peng over here. There is a tent prepared for him here. It's in a quiet corner of the barracks."

The three quickly followed Yue Wenxuan and soon arrived at a corner of the barracks, where a clean and tidy tent had been prepared. Inside was a hospital bed specially prepared for Peng Ji, and interestingly, there were also two small beds for caregivers.

Seeing how thoughtful Yue Wenxuan's preparations were, Peng Qi's subordinates couldn't help but shed tears: "The Northern Song Dynasty is so good to us Southern Song people, we are truly moved beyond words."

Yue Wenxuan: "What are you saying? The two Song dynasties were originally one family, both Song. We are just serving different princes, why should we distinguish between each other? You take good care of General Peng, and we'll talk again when he's feeling better."

(End of this chapter)