When the hand he wielded his sword with was stained with enemy blood, she was using those same hands to brew medicinal tea for the wounded.
Deep in the bamboo forest, the general once laughed at her foolishness. "In times of war, a healer must choose: save one person or save the world. Which will it be?"
Later, when the enemy army laid siege to the city, she set fire to the clothes of plague victims and rode straight into the enemy camp.
Through the flames, she saw him hacking through the tents like a madman, his sword slick with enemy blood.
"I choose you," she said with a bloody cough and a smile. "In my world, there has only ever been one person beneath this umbrella."
