[His father is reading in the next room by candle light, one arm still wrapped up from Pang De's poison arrow; despite Hua Tuo's best efforts, a stabbing ache in his bone stubbornly persists to emerge in times of cold wind and rain. The physician had warned him about it and while Guan Yu had silently written off the warning (after all, the doctor had yet to treat a man of his calibre before), he's coming to realise that Hua Tuo had been dead right. It's nothing he can't handle, just a minor irritant that he won't let anyone see bother him, but in the quiet of the night and with everyone asleep Guan Yu had decided to remove the armor on that arm and position it near the warmth of the fire, finally heeding the words of wisdom given to him on how to limit the dull pain.
Safe for the guards on patrol he hadn't expected anyone else to be awake at this hour, and certainly not anyone allowed into his study. But he knows that voice well, and he looks up from his book and allows a rare smile at his son.]
You should rest, my son. We have a victory to claim tomorrow.
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Safe for the guards on patrol he hadn't expected anyone else to be awake at this hour, and certainly not anyone allowed into his study. But he knows that voice well, and he looks up from his book and allows a rare smile at his son.]
You should rest, my son. We have a victory to claim tomorrow.