——

Caocheng South Camp, in the main tent.

There were four braziers in the tent, which were bright and warm, but the air was filled with a strong smell of blood.

"Mr. Mo, how is the lord's injury?" Feng Xi's expression was no longer as slow as usual. He rubbed his palms and stared nervously at Mengchangjun lying on the mat, full of anxiety.

Mo Jing's tall body squatted beside the mat, his hands were in an orderly manner, but some fine sweat emerged from his forehead.

No more people were left in the tent, only Mengchangjun's confidant Feng Xi and doctor Mo Jing went in and out some people who packed their blood clothes and brought medicine, and the rest stayed outside the tent and waited.

"Fortunately, the sword injury avoided the key points, but it was too much blood and needed a good care for a while."

There was a pottery bowl next to Mo Jing, which contained green herbs. The herbs were hammered into pieces. After he cleaned the wound for Mengchangjun, he applied the herbs to the mouth of the medicine and then wrapped them with silk cloth.

He swung his sleeves to wipe the sweat from his head, and asked someone to go outside to make a basin of snow water. He told Feng Xi: "He will probably get hot all over in the second half of the night. You must leave people at any time, use the melted snow water to wipe his face, wipe his body, and boil the herbs and let someone feed him to drink."

Feng Zhi said in a row.

"Chen Rong..."

Mengchangjun, who was in a coma, frowned. He lost too much blood and his lips were pale and dry, as if he was immersed in a nightmare and could not wake up. He moaned unconsciously.

Mo Jing moved his ears and looked down at him.

"When you found Mengchangjun, you didn't see that boy named Chen Rong?"

Feng Xi lowered his eyes and shook his head.
Chapter completed!