Chapter 993 — Reunion
Blade of Dawn · Page 2 of 4
An Luo frowned instinctively, but soon her brow smoothed again. Watching him bustle about, the odd notion that had just arisen in her mind quickly dissipated—he seemed merely an ordinary worker.
Such a worker would presumably also have been assigned by the Cecil military, and might even be a "technical soldier" himself; a person like that would hardly talk much with a "special prisoner" like her.
As An Luo thought this, she studied his movements—with nothing else to do, she had to find something to pass the time. She watched him pick up the items on the shelf one by one, quickly check the labels on them, then deftly put them back. She could not see what meaning such an inspection had, but judging by his practiced motions, he had clearly worked here a long time.
"Sir, are you... a technician here?" Rather bored, An Luo could not help asking.
The man's movements stopped again. After a moment he said, as if with a trace of hesitation: "I... I am in the Druid department... a medical worker, more or less."
"You are the one caring for me?" An Luo was rather curious—she had never seen such a peculiar "doctor," and the man's hoarse, low voice was indistinct, so she could not help pressing on. "And Sister Marian?"
"She is mainly the one caring for you," the man said in a low voice. "I... came from another department to help."
"Oh, I see," An Luo said offhandedly, then curled the corner of her mouth. "You Cecil people are always so efficient when it comes to managing personnel."
The man fell silent again—he seemed always to fall silent in this baffling way, as though every question required half a day's thought to answer. Then he pulled his collar a little higher and came near An Luo's bed, beginning to check the contents recorded in the handover manual on the small desk beside it.
An Luo had only just arrived, so there was scarcely anything to see in the manual, yet he pored over it for quite a while.
"How are your injuries?" he asked suddenly.
"If you mean compared with when I was first wounded... then I almost feel I have already recovered," An Luo said lightly. "But if you mean compared with a healthy person... as you can see, there is still a long road to recovery."
"Your eyes..." the man asked again, somewhat hesitantly.
"...They are all right. One of my eyes is completely unharmed—they say that is a piece of luck," An Luo said, hesitating half a second this time, her formerly light tone growing a little dispirited. "They say it cannot be cured—but Sister Marian still urges me to stay optimistic. She says something called flesh-regeneration technology may still work on me... To be honest, I do not much believe it."
For some reason, she had said far more than she had intended—she should not say so much to a stranger, especially in an environment like this.
Ever since she came to Cecil's land, ever since she became a prisoner of war, it had been a long time since she had held such ordinary, everyday conversation with a stranger: she spoke only with Sister Marian, whom she knew relatively well, and only with her.
An Luo felt a little strange. She could not understand it, but she always felt that this odd man before her brought her some inexplicable familiarity... and a sense of reassurance. She frowned, doubting whether she had already lost her vigilance in this unfamiliar environment—but just then, the man spoke again.
"Flesh-regeneration can regrow lost limbs, even a tongue cut off ten years ago, but the eye is a very difficult organ to deal with. Its connection to the brain is delicate and complex, and it is itself fragile... Flesh-regeneration can do nothing for it yet," he said in a low voice. "But I do not think Sister Marian meant to deceive you. She simply does not understand this field—medicine is not a nun's specialty."