White-Bone Schemes

The wind in the northern frontier cut like a knife, stinging the face. Mixed with the smells of blood and medicinal herbs, it burrowed into people's noses and made them cough. Pei Huainan crouched in a hastily erected tent, fine beads of sweat gathering on his forehead. Blood still stained his hands as he held a silver needle and carefully cleaned the wound of a young soldier with a broken leg.