Heal These Battle Scars | MxM

Chapter Nine - When The Commander Isn't Around

Xiao Fang staggered forth in his steps, heaving the contents of last night's dinner on the pile of freshly harvested potatoes. Through hooded eyes, he wiped at his mouth. It was the damn heat again. If only God could spare them some rain, he sure would start praying twice a day in gratitude.

Ignoring the foul odor, he dropped to his knees and started aggressively picking up the potatoes one by one, using the grass to wipe off the vomit before one of the communist soldiers could see and give him a brutal beating like the one he received yesterday after he knuckled a guard in the face.

It wasn't Xiao Fang's fault for picking a fight. The bloody guard had been idly poking fun at Jie Yu for no apparent reason. Someone had to step in. Unfortunately, Jie Yu wasn't spared either, and when the soldiers finished abusing them, Xiao Fang ended up with a busted lip, and Jie Yu, had a black eye. If Xiao Fang could recall, Zichen had been the one who insisted the soldiers beat him and Jie Yu yesterday. Zichen wanted more than a beating, too. He wanted Xiao Fang crippled instead. If it wasn't for Wen Han's interference, it would've come to pass. Fucking inhumane bastards.

Although Xiao Fang's mind didn't swindle by Commander Yi's cruel behavior, he still believed Yi would've put a stop to the soldiers' assaults. Still, it might as well be only hopeful thinking.

Regrettably, though, that day, when Xiao Fang had spoken to Yi in his office, was the last.

It had been nearly two weeks since Yi left, taking off unexpectedly in the southern direction with several heavily armed military jeeps and a war tank. The doctor didn't know where he went, nor did he know if Yi would be returning anytime soon — or at all. At times he found himself wondering if Yi might've met his demise. The thought of Commander Yi dead sounded good, but strangely enough, he didn't feel good whenever he pondered too long on the image of Yi's lifeless body, waiting to be eaten by vultures on the battlefield.

At least, without Yi around, Xiao Fang figured he and his comrades had a better chance of escaping. These communist soldiers had been slacking in their duties since Yi's departure, that much Xiao Fang knew. Without a commander, the soldiers lacked discipline, drinking liquor all hours of the night, playing cards, and smoking cheap cigarettes. Their lungs must've suffered greatly.

There were still nine weeks until the Chinese New Year. Xiao Fang had talked with his comrades during the nights when the guard was sleeping, and though there was still no plan that would guarantee their freedom, if Yi was indeed dead, their escape would be far smoother. All he needed now was to avoid being mistreated by the enemy soldiers. Otherwise, he wouldn't live to see the next nine weeks.

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Unknown to Xiao Fang, Zichen stood at the back of the barracks, overlooking the fields, a sinister smirk on his face as his eyes focused on the doctor, watching him with such menace as he chewed on a toothpick.

Ultimately, Zichen took a glance near the military office building several yards away, where his eyes landed on Wen Han, sitting on top of a desk, focusing on a file at hand. Before thinking things through, the problematic soldier stepped out of the barracks and walked over to the field, wanting to stir up trouble.

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Xiao Fang internally gagged at the stench of his vomit as he continued dabbing the potatoes on the grass before tossing them in the nearby basket when he finished. The stench shouldn't have bothered him as much as it did consider, he too stunk from wearing the same nasty uniform all these weeks. Fortunately, he couldn't smell himself, already accustomed to the foul odor he carried around wherever he went.

Exhausted, he heaved, wiping the sweat off his forehead. The heat was a different type of torture today, burning at his flesh, leaving patches of tiny red blisters and an uncomfortable itching that seemed to have gotten worse as the hours passed.