Eastern Han Dynasty, not the Three Kingdoms

The north wind howled all night, and Sun Ce tossed and turned in agony and anxiety. The arrow wound had been bandaged briefly, with no painkillers. The pain burned like fire. Even more chilling was the occasional subtle clash of weapons outside the tent. These generals, recommended by the aristocratic families of Wu Commandery, now seemed like shadows harbouring murderous intent, lingering in the depths of his consciousness. Every suppressed cough threatened to rip at the wound in his chest, and the sound of Wei Yan's footsteps pacing back and forth outside the tent only added to the weight of the dead silence.

At dawn, Sun Ce forced himself to sit up, cold sweat dripping from his pale face. He called Wei Yan, his voice hoarse but brimming with undeniable authority: "Go and fetch Zhang Zigang. This general needs to discuss withdrawing camp immediately." Gazing at the dimming light outside the tent, he subconsciously pressed the sword at his waist—despite his doubts, he still held a glimmer of hope in Zhang Hong. Even if a mere scholar colluded with an aristocratic family, how much trouble could he stir up? Moreover, with him under his watch, apprehending him would be a piece of cake. However, he didn't see the fleeting, complex look in Wei Yan's eyes as he turned, nor did he notice that in the distant tents, several furtive figures, cloaked in the morning mist, were quietly exchanging meaningful glances.

A cold mist shrouded the Jiangxia camp like a veil. Sun Quan sat at his desk all night, his knuckles unconsciously rubbing the jade pendant his brother had given him. The cold touch reminded him of Zhang Hong's sinister threats the night before, and of all that he could possess after inheriting the throne. The night watchman ticked, and he gazed at the flickering torches outside the tent when he suddenly heard the distant neighing of a warhorse. He was so startled that he nearly dropped his teacup—the sound was exactly the same as the neighing he had heard when his brother was attacked.

Meanwhile, inside Sun Ce's tent, candlelight flickered in the morning breeze. Zhang Hong deliberately slowed his pace as he entered, letting his robe brush the doorframe with a subtle rustle, like some kind of subtle test. Sun Ce half-leaned on the tiger-skin couch, his pale face flickering in the light and shadow. Cold sweat soaked through the silk wrapping on his forehead, yet he forced a dignified expression: "Zi Gang has arrived just in time. The undercurrents in Jingzhou are turbulent, and this general's injuries are difficult to heal. This time, the grand plan of conquering Chang'an..."

"My lord is wise!" Zhang Hong rushed forward and saluted without waiting for the other party to finish speaking. His cloudy eyes rolled around, "Morale is low now. If we stay here for too long, something unexpected might happen. In my opinion, the most urgent thing is to withdraw the troops as soon as possible." He deliberately lowered his voice, with just the right amount of worry in his tone, "But the journey back is dangerous. We must arrange for capable generals to cover our retreat."

Sun Ce's fingers tapped unconsciously on the edge of the couch, his eyes glancing at Zhang Hong. Suddenly, Wei Yan's voice, scolding a soldier, came from outside the tent, seemingly giving him some confidence: "In your opinion, sir, who is worthy of this important task?"

A perfectly balanced hesitation crossed Zhang Hong's face, and he then spoke aloud, "General Lu Meng is exceptionally brave, and Lu Dai and Quan Cong are veterans. If they lead the elite troops to cover the rear, they will surely be able to hold off the pursuers. Xue Zong is adept at defense, and Chen Wu is loyal. We can order them to guard Xiakou and ensure the army's safe retreat." At this point, he added casually, "These generals are all capable men under the lord's command, and I believe they will be able to fulfill their mission."

Sun Ce's pupils shrank slightly, and the cold wind that leaked in from outside the curtain suddenly became biting. These generals recommended by Zhang Hong were all from aristocratic families, but now they were all to be transferred away from him. He thought of his speculation last night. Could this be a misunderstanding? But as the lord, he didn't dare to gamble. All the signs yesterday showed that this man might have had rebellious intentions. Sun Ce was about to speak, and the fishy and sweet taste of rust rose in his throat. But he suppressed the rising blood and just nodded slightly, suppressing the violent cough in his sleeve: "Just as you say."

When Sun Quan arrived, he saw his brother clutching his sleeve with white knuckles. Zhang Hong bowed and retreated from the tent, his aged face glistening in the morning light. He quickly stepped forward to steady the staggering Sun Ce. His touch felt scorching, and he suddenly remembered Zhang Hong's arrangement—those aristocratic generals had been sent far away. If anything were to happen to his brother... He looked at his brother's chapped lips and suddenly understood the true purpose of this elaborate plot: to dissuade Sun Ce from his guard while distancing himself from the aristocratic families. It was truly ruthless.

Sun Quan cried out in surprise, his palm touching his brother's scorching skin, as if touching a red-hot iron. He turned abruptly and demanded from Wei Yan, who was still on duty outside the door: "General Wenchang! Did your brother have a fever like this last night?" Before he could finish his words, Wei Yan knelt on one knee, the clashing of armor piercing the ears inside the tent: "Second Young Master, please forgive me! It really is..."

"That's enough." Sun Ce raised his hand to interrupt, his movements as slow as if he were lifting a heavy object. His fingertips trembled slightly, but he still managed to pat Sun Quan's shoulder, and said with a weak breath, "Zhongmou, at this critical moment of life and death, how can you trust others so easily?"

Following his brother's gaze, Sun Quan was shocked to see that on the stone table beside the bed, the bowl of medicine he should have taken last night had already cooled completely, a dark brown film condensing on the surface. His throat tightened, and he touched Sun Ce's burning forehead again, the temperature of his touch almost burning his palm. "Brother, your high fever won't subside. If you keep holding on like this, you'll collapse before we even get back to Jiangdong! You must boil the medicine immediately!"

Sun Ce tried to shake his head, but it triggered a violent coughing fit, and bloodshot oozed from between his fingers. Seeing him like this, Sun Quan's eyes instantly turned red, and his tone became even more resolute: "Brother, don't refuse! I'll ask the doctor to prescribe a prescription right away, and I'll be by the medicine furnace to boil it myself!"

"Why is it so..." Sun Ce was almost out of breath, about to refuse. But Sun Quan suddenly grabbed his hand, his fingers clasped together in an expression of unquestionable stubbornness: "If brother refuses to take the medicine, Zhongmou will kneel down forever!" The morning light filtered through the curtains, illuminating the tears in the boy's eyes. At that moment, Sun Ce felt that Sun Quan was no longer the younger brother he always scolded, but a Jiangdong native who used all his stubbornness to protect his loved ones.

Sun Ce looked at his brother's red eyes and stubborn expression, and the softest part of his heart was deeply touched. He smiled weakly: "Zhongmou, it seems that you have really grown up..." He wanted to raise his hand to touch his brother's head, but dropped it halfway due to exhaustion. "That's all. I know my body well. There's no need to do this..."

"No!" Sun Quan interrupted his brother with red eyes, his voice trembling with a crack, "At all times, the Sun brothers must support each other! If you refuse again, you will be trampling on Zhongmou's intentions!" After saying this, without waiting for Sun Ce to speak again, he turned around and strode out of the tent.

A moment later, Sun Quan, a light sweat on his forehead, hurried back with his medical officer and several personal guards. He personally set the medicine cauldron in place, carefully inspected the ingredients, and only lit the fire after confirming they were all in good condition. As the flames danced, he rolled up his sleeves and half-knelt before the cauldron, intently watching the medicinal broth bubbling in the clay pot, stirring it gently with a wooden spoon from time to time.

Sun Ce leaned back on the couch, watching his brother's busy figure, his eyes warming slightly. He opened his mouth to speak, but a sudden burst of fever swept over him, and his consciousness began to blur. The scene before him flickered in and out, and he could only vaguely see Sun Quan's anxious face and hear him coaxing softly: "Brother, bear with it a little longer, the medicine will be ready soon..."

The aroma of medicine gradually filled the tent, mingling with the scent of Sun Ce's blood, forming a complex aroma in the morning mist. Sun Quan stood guard by the medicine furnace, his eyes fixed on the temperature, fearing even the slightest mistake.

Sun Quan lowered his eyes as he stirred the medicine bowl. The steaming heat blurred his reddened eyes, but his trembling fingertips precisely skimmed off the residue. This focused look made Wei Yan, who was guarding outside the tent, shudder. Since he had followed Sun Ce, he had never seen the Second Young Master look so earnest.

"Brother, the medicine is ready." Sun Quan's voice was shrouded in warmth, and the porcelain bowl was still slightly hot when it was handed to him. Sun Ce struggled to stand up, and just as his bony hand was about to touch the rim of the bowl, Wei Yan suddenly stopped him. The brave warrior's face flushed red, and cold sweat seeped through the crevices of his armor: "My lord! That bowl of medicine last night..." His eyes were fixed on the bowl, his Adam's apple rolling with difficulty, and the second half of the sentence was swallowed back into his stomach as Sun Ce's face darkened.

"Wenchang, stop talking nonsense." Sun Ce's tone was tired from being sick, but still full of unquestionable majesty. "Zhongmou and I are related by blood, how could he harm me?" Before he finished speaking, Sun Quan had already picked up another bowl of medicine. The amber-colored medicine flowed down his Adam's apple and splashed the brocade of his collar. He wiped the corner of his mouth with his sleeve and smiled: "General Wenchang is sincere, how can you blame him? The cause of Jiangdong depends on you, so it is normal for you to be a little suspicious."

Amidst the steaming aroma of medicinal herbs, Wei Yan's ears flushed red. He knelt on one knee, his iron sword making a dull sound as it struck the blue bricks. "Second Young Master is magnanimous and magnanimous. It was I who was reckless!" Sun Quan quickly stepped forward and helped him up, the warmth of his palm radiating through his armor. "If it weren't for the general's two life-saving sacrifices, the Sun family's foundation would have been destroyed long ago. This prudence is a blessing for Jiangdong!"

Sun Ce leaned back against the cushions, watching the scene unfold before him. Suddenly, the burning pain from his wounds faded. As Sun Quan held the medicine bowl, testing its temperature with his lips and gently blowing away the foam, he reached out and stroked his brother's head. Suddenly, he was transported back to their childhood—the two children huddled on either side of their mother's embroidered couch, clutching each other's hands, unwilling to let go.

"It's great to have you here." Sun Ce drank the medicine, the bitterness melting on his tongue, but it was nothing compared to the warmth surging in his chest. Outside the tent, a horn sounded, signaling the army's mobilization. He looked at Sun Quan's profile, illuminated by the firelight, and suddenly felt that even if the road ahead was full of thorns, as long as brothers were united, there would be no obstacles in Jiangdong that they could not overcome.

As the medicine entered his throat, Sun Ce's tense nerves gradually relaxed like a waterlogged bowstring. The tranquilizing effect, mixed with the exhaustion of days, dragged him into a deep sleep. Outside the tent, the sun sank in the west, the chirping of cicadas grew increasingly frequent, then faded back to silence as dusk deepened. Only Sun Quan, standing by the bed, stared intently at his brother's rising and falling chest, his fan creating a rustling sound.

At three quarters past three in the afternoon, Zhang Hong's footsteps awakened Sun Quan from his light sleep. The slender figure of the old minister stood before the tent, his wide sleeves trimmed with gold thread trembling as he bowed. "Your Excellency, the army has been reorganized, and General Wei Yan is ready to escort them back at any time. The ships for Xiakou are also ready, waiting for..."

Sun Ce struggled to open his eyes, his vision clouded by blood clotted in the corners. He leaned against the couch railings and tried to rise, but dizziness overwhelmed him and he stumbled to the side. Fortunately, Sun Quan was quick to catch his brother's heavy body on his chest. "Be careful!" the young man cried out in shock, his palms soaked with cold sweat, and Sun Ce's thin undershirt was soaked.

"Help me go see Zhou Tai." Sun Ce gasped and grabbed his brother's wrist. Sun Quan choked up and half-knelt on the ground to help his brother stand up steadily.