The Secret Essentials of the Green Satchel

On the grasslands north of the desert, where the flames of war have raged for months, Xiao Muye's Black-Armored Army is locked in a brutal battle with the Left Wise King of the Xiongnu. Jiang Li and the apprentices from the medical tent weave through a rain of arrows when she suddenly sees the commander-in-chief's great banner sway violently. It's a signal that he is in danger.

She snatches up her medicine pouch and rushes toward the commander's tent. The heavy stench of blood inside is mixed with a strange sandalwood fragrance. Xiao Muye is kneeling on the ground, a deep-blue arrowhead lodged in his left shoulder. A dark-red line of blood has already crept toward his heart.

"Don't touch it!" he roars, stopping the military doctor who tries to approach. "It's a ghost arrow from a Xiongnu shaman. It's contagious."

The candlelight flickers, making the old scar between his brows look all the more sinister. Jiang Li tears off an embroidered handkerchief and wraps it around her palm. "General, do you remember what you said three years ago in Yong Alley? That a physician's hands were more precious than the He Shi jade?" Before he can answer, she grips the shaft. Green smoke rises where her skin meets it. Through the pain that pierces her to the bone, she hears metal scrape against bone.

The moment the arrowhead comes free, warhorses scream outside the tent. Twenty Xiongnu death warriors break through the defenses, their curved blades aimed at the gravely wounded Xiao Muye. Jiang Li grabs the medicine pestle from the table and hurls it at the leader's face, then flicks a golden needle into a vital point on his neck. In the chaos, someone grabs her hair and presses a cold blade to her throat.

"Tell him to hand over the defense map of the northern frontier, or this Han doctor..." The captor's threat cuts off abruptly. Xiao Muye's ring-pommeled saber pierces his chest. Warm droplets of blood spatter Jiang Li's pale face. His bloodied hand covers her trembling fingertips. "What did I tell you the night I taught you to read the stars?"

"The Dipper points the way..." She swallows the metallic sweetness in her throat. "I would face a thousand deaths... without hesitation..."

Theme: Put benevolence first