mtl008 Chapter 363 Fire Fighting
Chapter 363 Fire Fighting
When Shi Wanxia jumped down, her skirt got caught on a splinter.
Shen Yanzhou swiftly caught her elbow, his warm palm seeping through the thin fabric of her clothes: "You take charge of the operations; leave the firefighting to me."
As their eyes met, she saw the flames dancing in his eyes, a resolute determination as intense as the flames themselves.
As the first bucket of well water was poured onto the raging flames, the east was already beginning to lighten with the first hint of dawn.
Shi Wanxia leaned against the charred door frame, gazing at the mess on the ground, when she suddenly heard light footsteps behind her.
Turning her head, Princess Ningde clutched the blackened hem of her skirt and timidly offered half a hard biscuit: "Lord Shi, are you hungry?"
In the distance, Shen Yanzhou was comforting the disaster-stricken people, his shadow stretched long in the morning sun.
Princess Ninghua stood beside the carriage, gazing at everything, her fingertips unconsciously twirling the pearl in her hair, and suddenly chuckled softly.
The morning breeze carries the lingering warmth of ashes, but also brings new hope.
As the first rays of sunlight pierced through the clouds, Shi Wanxia was kneeling on the scorched earth, bandaging the wounded.
The morning mist on Zhuque Street carried the smell of burning. Shi Wanxia staggered to her feet, leaning against the broken walls and ruins.
Ashes fell softly onto her dust-covered skirt, making it seem as if a black snow had fallen.
In the distance came the sound of the night watchman's clapper, signaling the fifth watch, which mingled with the rising and falling cries of the crowd.
"careful!"
A pair of bloodstained hands steadily supported her swaying shoulders.
When Shi Wanxia turned her head, the silver hairpin in her hair brushed against Cui Zhihao's ash-stained clothes. The hem of the man's black official robe was still covered with ice crystals—clearly the traces left from jumping into the moat to fetch water to put out the fire last night.
"Brother Cui!"
She gripped the other person's sleeve, her fingernails still embedded with rubble.
Since the fire started at midnight, she had been working through the night with the doctors at the medical center's refugee resettlement site, and only now did she see this familiar face clearly.
Choi Ji-ho had a strip of cloth stuck to his forehead, and dark red blood was trickling down his jawline.
Choi Ji-ho took the water pouch from his waist and handed it to him; the sheepskin bag was still warm from his body: "Soak your throat first."
He gazed at the still-smoking ruins in the distance, his pupils reflecting the leaping sparks.
"The neighborhood head just said that the granary on Rice Market Street was also set on fire."
Before the words were finished, the thunderous sound of horses' hooves rolled over the stone road.
Shen Yanzhou abruptly stopped his Akhal-Teke horse three zhang away. The hem of his black python robe was covered in mud, but the pearl on his crown was still shining brightly.
He flung off the reins and charged toward the makeshift command post, his gold-inlaid jade thumb ring gleaming coldly in the morning light: "Demolish the houses in the southeast of Zhuque Ward! Use them to block the fire!"
As Shi Wanxia gazed at the Crown Prince's tall and straight back, she suddenly recalled that last night, when flames licked the night sky, it was this very figure who braved the rain of fire to carry the old woman trapped on the second floor out of the window.
She gripped the medicine pouch at her waist, about to follow, but was blocked by two figures in bright yellow.
Princess Ninghua's ornate ceremonial crown stood out starkly in the gloom. She clutched a handkerchief to her mouth and nose, saying, "Lord Cui, I must go to the West Market to assess the disaster situation."
Before she could finish speaking, Princess Ningde had already lifted the sedan curtain and peeked out, her pearl hairpin swaying gently with the movement: "My brother says there's a riot among disaster victims in the southern market. Do you need my help...?"
"Your Highnesses, it is too dangerous inside. Please do not venture in!"
Cui Zhihao knelt on one knee, the xiezhi patch on the front of his official robe stained with mottled blood.
"His Highness the Crown Prince has ordered the nine thoroughfares sealed off. The embers are still burning, and bricks and stones could fall at any moment..."
"Lord Cui, rest assured."
Princess Ninghua handed the gilded hand warmer to her maid, revealing the red coral bracelet wrapped around her wrist.
"I naturally understand the gravity of the situation."
As she turned around, her wide sleeves swept away half a piece of charred wood from the corner of the wall, raising a cloud of choking dust.
Choi Ji-ho stared in the direction the two princesses had gone, his brows furrowed in a deep frown.
He took off his outer robe and draped it over Shi Wanxia's shoulders, the hem brushing against the shards of porcelain scattered on the ground: "If the grain reserves in Rice Market Street are burned out, Kyoto may descend into chaos."
He pointed northwest, where thick smoke billowed, "Go with the people from the refugee resettlement site to Hanguang Gate, there..."
"I want to stay!"
Shi Wanxia gripped his sleeve tightly, "Yesterday you led the neighborhood head to count that there were sixty-eight people trapped in the fire, but so far only twenty-one have been rescued..."
Her voice trembled, and the cries of children being consumed by fire flashed before her eyes.
"Brother Cui, I studied wound care in school, can I help?"
Choi Ji-ho stared at the girl's face, blackened by smoke. This girl was always sincere to people, weaving through the crowded streets to treat people who had been trampled.
A loud crash of collapsing timber came from afar. He gritted his teeth and pulled a waist token engraved with "Eastern Palace" from his sleeve: "Go to the temporary medical tent on the east side and tell Physician Zhang that the men I asked you to bring have arrived."
The scorching sunlight fell on the charred beams, reflecting a blinding light.
She counted the bodies that had been carried on stretchers, her nails digging deep into her palms—the 40th body, and seven more still missing.
"Guoguo!" A familiar voice came through, mixed with a cough.
Choi Ji-ho was holding an unconscious child in his arms, his clothes soaked with blood.
"The granary was saved, but the northwest corner..."
His voice stopped abruptly, his gaze fixed on the collapsed brick wall in the distance.
Shen Yanzhou gripped the blood-stained command flag, his knuckles turning white as frost.
The morning light shone on his dark face, making the veins at the corners of his eyes throb.
Beneath the dilapidated ruins in the northwest, half of a bright yellow skirt fluttered in the wind; it was the gold-threaded brocade that Princess Ninghua had worn this morning.
"idiot!"
He kicked over the charred wooden barrel next to him, his iron-soled boots crushing the shards of glass scattered on the ground.
"Who gave her permission to enter the burning building?!"
The rice market granary on Mishi Street, which they fought desperately to save last night, is still shrouded in smoke. Now, they have to divert their attention to searching for the princess. The situation in Kyoto is like a taut bowstring; any further changes will cause it to snap completely.
Cui Zhihao tossed the bamboo stretcher to the guards behind him, then turned to see Shi Wanxia standing on tiptoe checking on the injured under the rubble.
The girl's face, blackened by thick smoke, was stained with several bloodstains. The tassel on the medicine pouch at her waist had long been torn off, but she still stubbornly applied the hemostatic powder to the child's scalded arm.
"Guoguo, come with me."
He tore off his outer robe and wrapped it around her shoulders to avoid the falling sparks.
"His Highness the Crown Prince said that Princess Ninghua's palanquin is parked at the site of the former silk shop."
The two crouched low and crawled into the broken wall. The charred wood under their feet groaned under the weight, and the charcoal ash floating in the air was like black snow, choking and stinging their eyes.
Inside the silk shop, the once radiant brocade had turned into charred, mushy material, hanging from the half-collapsed beams.
Shi Wanxia covered her mouth and nose with a silk handkerchief, then suddenly stopped in her tracks—the broken gilded hand warmer in the corner was the very thing Princess Ninghua had been playing with this morning.
Her gaze followed the scattered fragments of pearls and jade on the floor, and her heart suddenly raced.
"careful!"
Choi Ji-ho suddenly pulled her behind him.
The rotten beam overhead crashed down, sending sparks flying everywhere.
He covered the girl with his wide sleeves, but his palms were burned numb by the flying charcoal dust.
As the smoke and dust cleared, Shi Wanxia had already crawled forward, pushing aside the broken wood, her silk handkerchief soaked in blood.
"Waaah..."
A faint sob came from the inner room, its sound heavy with a nasal tone.
As summer fell, she parted the wooden beam blocking her path, blood seeping from under her fingernails.
When she saw the scene before her, her breath almost stopped—Princess Ninghua was curled up under the collapsed counter, her lotus-colored palace dress covered in mud, her right leg pinned down by a charred piece of wood as thick as a bowl, her hair ornament crown askew, and pearls scattered all over the ground.
"Your Highness!"
Shi Wanxia rushed over and grabbed the other person's icy hand, only to find it covered in cold sweat.
Dark red bloodstains seeped from under Ning Hua's skirt, clearly from being pressed down for too long.
She forced herself to remain calm and unbuckled her belt: "Don't move, let me stabilize your injury first."