Chapter 64: Extracting the Shrapnel

The shrapnel was razor-thin. The gash exposed on Shi Zui’s back was no thicker than a knife blade. Thanks to the regeneration effect, the wound—over ten centimeters long—had already begun to heal and scab over. Pale pink new flesh was even sprouting at both ends.

And what Ye Jingqiu had to do was slice it open again.

Dense beads of sweat seeped slowly from Shi Zui’s shoulders. Out here in the middle of nowhere, there were no anesthetics to be had. Ye Jingqiu didn’t even want to imagine the agony of a dull blade sawing through flesh and bone—especially when it was her captain enduring it.

She quickly looked away, unable to watch. Holding her breath, she steadied her trembling hands. The scalpel’s bright tip didn’t hesitate. With a bit of pressure, it sheared straight through the sealed flesh. Crimson blood gushed out like a fountain, soaking Shi Zui’s entire back in an instant and tracing sinuous trails like writhing worms.

It was open! Now she just had to extract the shrapnel and cut away the dead flesh!

Shi Zui didn’t make a sound through the whole thing. Ye Jingqiu exhaled sharply, sweat pouring down her face. “Captain,” she said in a low, hurried voice, “I’m pulling the shrapnel now. I’ll make it quick.”

Shi Zui stayed silent, giving only the slightest nod.

The regeneration’s terrifying restorative power was already slowing the blood flow, but the earlier torrent had soaked half the bedsheet. Shi Zui had a slender build, her body—usually concealed beneath combat gear—pale as paper. But now, that smooth, gracefully curved back was marred by several dark red bloodstains. It was a ghastly sight.

Ye Jingqiu splashed some alcohol on her hands. Conditions were primitive; she’d have to make do. Bracing one hand on the ground beside the captain’s left ear, she leaned in and pinched the protruding end of the shrapnel.

Shi Zui shuddered involuntarily. Her muscles locked up tight, huge sweat droplets rolling down her forehead. It was impossible to tell where the sweat ended and the blood began.

Spotting the tension, Ye Jingqiu tightened her grip on the shrapnel and tugged gently at an unrelated topic. Her left hand patted Shi Zui’s back in slow, soothing strokes. “Don’t overthink it, Captain. Just relax… relax… Sister Nan-Nan said that drug lord has a decent off-road vehicle stashed away…”

Warm breath ghosted over the nape of her neck. The little teammate’s familiar scent carried a deep sense of comfort. For no reason at all, Shi Zui felt a wave of calm wash over her. She squeezed her eyes shut, clamped down on the cloth strip in her mouth, and willed the muscles in her back to loosen.

In that instant—

Ye Jingqiu didn’t hesitate. Her right hand yanked the shrapnel free in one swift motion. Clinging flesh and blood sprayed outward. Shi Zui let out a muffled grunt, her knuckles whitening as she gripped the edge of the bed. The pain she was suffering was beyond imagining.

A few drops of blood splattered onto Ye Jingqiu. She wiped them away without a thought and snatched up the alcohol bottle. The wound on the captain’s back was fairly deep, and without cotton swabs or cloths, pouring and flushing was the only option.

She couldn’t bring herself to look at Shi Zui’s face. If she’d been in the captain’s place, she’d have shredded the cloth in her mouth just from the incision alone. Yet Shi Zui hadn’t made more than a handful of sounds the entire time—quiet in a way that wasn’t remotely human.

Of course, the captain had never been normal to begin with. What ordinary person could take wounds this severe and still stay conscious enough to speak?

Ye Jingqiu cracked a self-deprecating joke in her head to ease her nerves, all the while babbling random nonsense to distract the captain.

She uncapped the alcohol bottle and gripped Shi Zui’s shoulder, forcing a lighter tone. “Once we’re done here, I’ll sneak over to that drug lord’s place and scope it out. None of the bosses around here are any good anyway. If it goes smooth, I’ll be doing the locals a favor. If not, I’ll just grab a car and bolt. Sound like a plan, Captain?”

Shi Zui’s mind was foggy, her awareness hanging by a thread. She pieced together the little teammate’s words and started to nod—then a wrenching agony tore through her back. It felt like an awl drilling mercilessly inward, the pain surging toward her vital organs with a roar.

Tears born of pure physical torment blurred her vision. She bit down hard on the cloth, grunting through clenched teeth, fighting with everything she had not to black out. But the searing burn was overwhelming, like wildfire scorching every inch of her body. A shrill tinnitus buzzed in her ears like a vibrating blade.

The dim daylight blurred into shadowy outlines. The little teammate’s urgent, gentle murmurs faded away. Amid the blaze of pain, the yellowed, crumbling walls twisted into cramped patches of color. Everything before her eyes began to lift, dissolving into dreamlike fragments.

When her awareness returned, it felt like ages had passed.

Maybe a split second, maybe an hour. When Shi Zui opened her eyes again, she found herself enveloped in warmth, cradled like in an embrace.

“It’s okay. It’s okay. It’s all over, Captain.”

Ye Jingqiu was pressed close against her side, murmuring softly right by her ear. Gauze soaked in alcohol brushed tenderly over her blood-crusted temple, revealing the underlying pallor of blood loss.

The little teammate hadn’t realized she was awake yet. She kept murmuring the same mix of reassurances and distractions, her voice hoarse from repetition.

Shi Zui could feel someone carefully lifting and smoothing the hair at her ear, a cool touch tracing the edge where dried blood crusted her skin.

“Wake up soon, Captain, or A-Xie will come and chew me out for not taking better care of you. Though… maybe take your time? I hear there are tons of rabbits around here. We could do barbecue tonight—wait, your wound’s fresh. Can you even have greasy food?”

It was a long, rambling monologue. The warm puffs of breath against her ear sent involuntary shivers through her. Shi Zui struggled to move her lips but couldn’t force any words out.

Ye Jingqiu paused—probably swapping out the gauze for a fresh alcohol soak. Shi Zui noticed the cleaning had moved down to her abdomen.

Something felt off. Hadn’t her undershirt been intact? They’d only exposed her left shoulder and back before.

By now, Ye Jingqiu had unbuttoned the captain’s shirt entirely. Blood from the shrapnel extraction had seeped down to her waist and belly, mingling with grime and drying into stubborn stains. They had to be cleaned.

But she normally never dared to touch that spot, not even when practicing punches. There was no other reason—the Captain’s abs there were just too perfectly sculpted. As an eighteen-year-old adult with a sound mind who frequently surfed the web, climbed ladders, and hopped over walls, Ye Jingqiu felt a tiny bit of shyness was perfectly normal…

Normal my ass!

Ye Jingqiu glared at the Captain’s lean, toned waist and viciously cursed her own wandering thoughts. One second she was starring in a medical blockbuster called Myanmar Survival, and the next she was here chanting that form is emptiness and emptiness is form?

Even Ning Wan couldn’t change faces that fast.

She shoved all the messy thoughts out of her head. While the Captain was still out, Ye Jingqiu decided to hurry up and tend to the wound—pressure creates diamonds. In just a few quick moves, she transformed the Captain into someone who looked brand new. Ye Jingqiu whistled appreciatively as she buttoned up the Captain’s shirt, praising herself all the while:

“Captain, my battlefield first-aid skills are top-notch! Look at these neat bandages, this meticulous service. If I say we’re both amazing and incredible, would you think I’m exaggerating?”

“Won’t.”

The hand Ye Jingqiu had on the second button from the hem froze.

Hahaha, no way the Captain would reply right now, right? She had to still be fast asleep!

But the voice that came the next second shattered Ye Jingqiu’s illusions.

“You’re super amazing and super incredible.” Shi Zui coughed twice, repeating what she’d just overheard. She took a couple of breaths, then slowly lifted her head to look at the utterly bewildered Ye Jingqiu. Politely, she added, “So, super amazing and super incredible Student Ye Jingqiu, could you help me button up?”

After all that cool wind, she was starting to feel cold.

Before she could finish, Shi Zui watched as her little teammate shot to her feet, whipped around, raised her right hand, and swore an oath in a flash.

“C-Cap-Cap-Captain! I was just cleaning that spot by chance! I swear I had no ulterior motives!”

Had she used the wrong words?

No need to correct her.

Shi Zui coughed a few more times. Ye Jingqiu flinched—the Captain sounded so weak, her voice so lacking in strength. What did they call that in traditional Chinese medicine? Heat above and cold below? Spleen deficiency or kidney deficiency?

Before she could ponder it, Shi Zui spoke again, her voice much steadier this time: “I’m not blaming you. Sorry to trouble you, but please keep cleaning the wound. My arm still won’t move right now.”

Ye Jingqiu practically collapsed in relief and sat back down. Quick as lightning, she buttoned up the Captain’s undershirt at a button-per-second pace, then obediently dabbed at the arm wounds with gauze to clean off the remnants.

With the undershirt rebuttoned, Shi Zui gazed at her little teammate, who was focused intently on the task, and let out an unconscious sigh of relief.

Sometimes, Captain Shi might have been the one who was more afraid.

Pushing those thoughts aside, Shi Zui looked down at her bandaged wound. Ye Jingqiu had wrapped it meticulously, layer after layer, not only sealing in the spot enhanced with Regeneration and repair commands but also taking care of the scratches on her neck.

Her little teammate’s skills had improved; even the bow was much prettier now.

Shi Zui touched the crooked little bow at the edge of the bandage, and for no reason at all, a deep sense of security welled up inside her. An unusual emotion slowly took root and grew, nearly vibrating through her entire heart.

She looked up at the bustling Ye Jingqiu, who was covered in grime everywhere except her hands, and realized the girl was drenched in sweat—probably from worry.

With the last scratch cleaned, Ye Jingqiu tossed the gauze aside and grinned happily. “Captain, now there’s no prob—”

“lem.”

Shi Zui suddenly looked up, gazing at her with an expression Ye Jingqiu had never seen before.

“Thank you,” the Captain murmured. “These two words might seem light, but right now, it’s all I can say. Thank you for everything along the way.”

This was probably the first time she’d seen the Captain show such open emotion. Those everyday, casual words of thanks carried an unusual weight coming from her.

With those ink-black eyes fixed so intently on her, Ye Jingqiu felt a little dazed. In a tiny voice, she said, “Captain, didn’t you say teammates don’t need to say thanks? Why are you being so formal with me?”

Shi Zui hummed in acknowledgment. “Because I wanted to praise you?”

Before Ye Jingqiu could gasp and look up, Shi Zui added without batting an eye or missing a beat: “Super amazing and super incredible Student Ye Jingqiu.”

Ye Jingqiu: “…”

Ye Jingqiu: “Captain, bringing it up again and again is just mean!”

Shi Zui let out a soft chuckle, reining in the fleeting yet intensely profound emotion she’d just revealed. “Alright, I won’t say it. You mentioned the boss here has an off-road vehicle?”

Ye Jingqiu nodded. “Yeah! Sister Nan-Nan said that boss loves cars. He’s got a garage full of off-roaders and motorcycles.”

Shi Zui was still mulling it over when a gunshot cracked out of nowhere, followed by unmasked shouts and cries!

“It’s Sister Nan-Nan!”

Ye Jingqiu leaped to her feet and snatched the long knife beside her. “Captain, stay hidden. I have to go check!”

No time to hesitate. Shi Zui nodded and said, “Be careful.” Ye Jingqiu rocketed out like a missile, activating Word Manifestation to the max. A few flips and she was at Jiang Zhinan’s little shack nearby.

No one around, no guns. Just a beat-up motorcycle on the empty ground by the door. Inside the house, dishes crashed to the floor—porcelain shattering nonstop. Ye Jingqiu fiddled with the door lock and slipped quietly into the inner hall through the back door.

The small dining room was a total mess. Ye Jingqiu rolled behind the fridge and peeked out to see a swarthy, vicious man with his hand clamped around Jiang Zhinan’s throat, pinning her hard against the wall.

“Spill it or not? Someone saw you hiding two people. Still gonna deny it?!”

Jiang Zhinan’s face was flushed red, her breathing ragged, on the verge of passing out. She clawed desperately at the man’s right hand and shook her head with effort. “I really don’t know. I’ve never seen any outsiders.”

The man sneered. “Fine, won’t talk? Then pick one: the boss wants to entertain guests tonight. Reveal their whereabouts, or be the escort.”

“I-I won’t choose… These flowers were just planted. I haven’t checked them for pests yet!” Jiang Zhinan tried desperately to fend him off with that excuse, but the man only sneered in disdain, his patience clearly at an end.

“Enough already. Stop dragging your little hobbies into this. Did college give you some kind of superiority complex? This is your last chance. Spill it, or come with me. Just think about what might happen to you tonight. Hmph.”

Jiang Zhinan shook her head stubbornly, refusing to speak. “I-I really don’t know.”

“Fine, fine. You’ve made your choice!”

Murderous intent flashed in the man’s eyes. With a ferocious grin, he reared back to punch her unconscious. But in that electric instant, Ye Jingqiu vaulted straight into the fray!

Her left knee drove hard into him, slamming the man to the floor. Her right hand flashed like lightning, plunging the long knife straight into his right shoulder blade.

The tiny dining hall instantly filled with a howl like a butchered pig.