Chapter Nineteen: The Compassionate Iron Pillar

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Zhang Tiezhu nodded repeatedly as he listened. “So bamboo can be used medicinally too—I’ve really learned something new today.”

Jiang Bai smiled faintly but said nothing further. Instead, she began to carefully search through the bamboo grove. She gently ran her hand over the surface of the bamboo stalks, occasionally stopping to observe their growth conditions.

“The bamboo here is quite mature,” Jiang Bai said with satisfaction. “We can collect some bamboo shavings to take back.”

Zhang Tiezhu immediately pulled out the tools he always carried and, following Jiang Bai’s instructions, began to carefully peel away the bamboo shavings. Although his movements were somewhat awkward, he was meticulous enough not to damage the bamboo's outer skin.

“Doctor Jiang, is this okay?” Zhang Tiezhu asked, handing over the peeled bamboo shavings.

Jiang Bai took them and examined them carefully before nodding. “Very good, just like this. The bamboo shavings should be soft in texture and pure white in color—you did well.”

Hearing the praise, a smile spread across Zhang Tiezhu’s face. “That’s a relief. I was worried I might have damaged them.”

The two busied themselves in the bamboo grove for a while, collecting a good amount of bamboo shavings. Jiang Bai carefully placed them into a cloth bag, preparing to take them back for processing.

“All right, let’s keep moving forward,” Jiang Bai said. “If we don’t find anything else after a short distance, we’ll turn back.”

Zhang Tiezhu nodded and followed Jiang Bai deeper into the forested mountains.

The path grew increasingly difficult, the trees denser, and sunlight nearly blocked out entirely. Jiang Bai occasionally paused to use a bamboo pole to push aside the overgrowth, searching for medicinal herbs that might be concealed within.

“Doctor Jiang, look over there,” Zhang Tiezhu suddenly pointed toward a patch of grass not far off. “It looks like something's moving.”

Jiang Bai looked in the direction he indicated and indeed saw a dark shape writhing in the grass. She frowned and whispered, “Be careful. It might be a wild animal.”

Zhang Tiezhu immediately gripped his long knife tightly, eyes fixed warily on the grass. Jiang Bai took a medicine pouch from her waist, prepared to respond swiftly to any sudden situation.

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The dark shape in the grass slowly moved, eventually revealing a small animal. It was an injured wild rabbit, with a clear wound on its hind leg and blood staining the surrounding fur.

“It’s a rabbit,” Jiang Bai breathed a sigh of relief. “Looks like it’s hurt.”

Zhang Tiezhu relaxed as well and sheathed his knife. “Should we treat its wound?”

Jiang Bai glanced at him oddly. “You want to save it?”

Zhang Tiezhu looked back at her just as puzzled, cautiously asking, “Don’t you want to save it?”

“Well, if you want to, then fine,” Jiang Bai replied. She had initially thought it would be an extra burden, but didn’t expect Zhang Tiezhu to be so compassionate, wanting to rescue the little rabbit.

They carefully approached the wild rabbit. Jiang Bai took some herbs from the pouch, crushed them, and applied the poultice to the rabbit’s wound. The rabbit seemed to sense her kindness and tried to struggle but appeared to understand that the medicine would help—it lay quietly on the ground, allowing her to treat it.

“All done,” Zhang Tiezhu said gently, patting the rabbit’s head. “Hope you get better soon.”

The rabbit seemed to understand, twitching its ears softly before limping back into the grass and disappearing from sight.

Jiang Bai watched the rabbit’s retreating figure and couldn’t help but comment, “I didn’t expect you to be so kind-hearted.”

Zhang Tiezhu thought she was trying to compliment him, so he returned the praise. “Doctor Jiang, a healer’s benevolence means you can’t just stand by when you see a wounded creature.”

As they resumed their journey, Jiang Bai looked at the tall, sturdy man beside her and inwardly marveled—she never imagined she would come to like someone who cared so deeply for such a furry little thing.

Zhang Tiezhu felt a chill down his back, as if someone were whispering about him behind his back. Unbeknownst to him, he mistakenly assumed Jiang Bai, a young woman, would naturally feel pity upon seeing the soft, white rabbit. He had cleverly taken the initiative to save the rabbit, hoping Jiang Bai would see this as a sign of his gentle nature.

Thus, they returned under this charming misunderstanding, while the injured rabbit, quite by chance, was fortunate enough to be saved.

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After Jiang Bai and Zhang Tiezhu returned, their collection of medicinal herbs was nearly complete. After a brief inspection, finding nothing wrong, they packed up and began retracing their steps.

Jiang Bai looked at the bamboo shavings they had gathered, planning to take them home to brew some tea for her younger brother. Recently, the boy had been eating too many dried fruits and was suffering from slight inflammation, with bleeding gums.

While Jiang Bai thought of her brother at home, her other brother was enduring hardship under General Duan’s care. Because her supernatural abilities were still at a low level—limited to basic acceleration of growth, plant control, and body nurturing—she couldn’t perform the advanced wood-element skills, nor could she remotely control plants to protect her brother. If she was more than a hundred meters from plants, her control ceased. After over ten years of cultivation, she had finally reached the peak of the low level, but the chasm between low and middle levels remained uncrossable, and she could not awaken her destined plant.

At present, both Strategist Duan and General Duan were recovering in the same tent, which was the most heavily guarded of all. Placing her brother there ensured he would receive the strictest protection.

However, Jiang Bai did not expect that while her brother Jiang Ye was indeed very safe, he had been utterly deceived.

General Duan looked fondly at the ten-year-old child with big eyes and baby fat on his cheeks. Among the rough, gruff men around him—the youngest aside from the sixteen- or seventeen-year-old Xiao Shi—this child was now the youngest in their entire army.

Duan Yue asked the man with the large hammer to bring a plate of snacks for Jiang Ye and had him sit beside it. Watching Jiang Ye raise his arm to carefully wash his hands at the doorway’s rack, then pull out a square handkerchief from his bosom to meticulously dry them, the earnest expression on the adorable little face reminded Duan Yue of his second younger brother at that age—just as serious and proper.

After washing his hands, Jiang Ye sat at the table, about to pick up a snack when a shadow fell beside him. Duan Yue had been recovering well and could now sit up for a while. Restless, he decided to do something.

“General Duan, are you going to eat too?” Jiang Ye thought the general might be hungry and wanted some food.

Duan Yue shook his head. “No need to call me that. Just call me Brother Duan.”

Jiang Ye didn’t hesitate. With a clear voice, he said, “Brother Duan.”

Hearing that long-missed address, Duan Yue felt a pang of melancholy. Since his two younger brothers turned ten, they only respectfully called him ‘brother,’ nothing playful or affectionate—unlike other children who were obedient and sweet, calling their elders by any name they wished.

Duan Yue wore a kindly expression and softly coaxed, “Brothers grow apart as they get older. Maybe it’s because I look too stern or something. They don’t get close to me anymore.”

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