The kitchen helpers in the courtyard were all shocked by the sight of Feng Ming, who was covered in blood. They anxiously asked, "What happened to Feng Ming?"
Feng Ming had already fainted and couldn't speak. One of the villagers carrying him answered, "A tree branch pierced a hole in his thigh. It looks like it hit a blood vessel; the blood just keeps gushing out."
A stranger who had entered the courtyard with them added loudly, "Xiaofeng was pierced in the inner thigh by a branch, injuring his femoral artery! We gave him a simple dressing, which slowed the bleeding, but it's not enough. He needs to be taken to a proper hospital down the mountain for surgery as soon as possible!"
"Surgery at the county hospital? How much would that cost?" Feng Ming's parents looked troubled. It wasn't that they were reluctant to spend the money; it was that they barely had any.
The stranger immediately declared, "We'll cover the cost of his treatment. After all, Xiaofeng only got hurt slipping into that ravine because he was protecting one of us!"
Just then, several more strangers—both men and women—rushed into the courtyard, all clamoring at once:
"Deng Chang, why did you bring him here?"
"Hurry and carry him to the village entrance! Our car is parked there. We wanted to drive in, but the roads in your village are just too narrow."
"Time is life! Get him to the car, quickly!"
The villagers hesitated, but ultimately decided to follow the strangers' advice and began to carry Feng Ming away.
"Wait!" Zhao Yuan spoke up, stopping them. "Even with a car, it's a two-hour drive from our village to the county hospital. The mountain roads are rugged and bumpy. In Feng Ming's current state, it's hard to say if he'll even make it. He could very well die from blood loss on the way!"
"What? Then what should we do?" Feng Ming's parents panicked. If they didn't take him to the hospital, he would die. If they did, he might die on the way… 'How the hell are we supposed to choose?'
The man called Deng Chang looked at Zhao Yuan in surprise. He seemed to have never imagined that someone in this remote little mountain village would actually know medicine.
He said, "Young man, you must be the one they mentioned who's studying medicine, right? You're correct. Xiaofeng's condition is critical, and his life is in danger. That's exactly why we need to get him to a proper hospital down the mountain as quickly as possible!"
"He does need to go to the county hospital, but not yet."
Zhao Yuan activated his Qi Observation Technique and took a look. Feng Ming's vital Qi was extremely weak. He then took his pulse, which was faint and thready, and noted his body temperature was dropping dangerously.
All these signs indicated that Feng Ming already had one foot in the Ghost Gate. He could die at any moment and wouldn't survive the trip.
He made a snap decision and said, "We have to operate on Feng Ming right now—clean the wound, suture the damaged femoral artery, and *then* send him to the hospital for follow-up care!"
Zhao Yuan's words startled the strangers. Deng Chang, in particular, frowned and said doubtfully, "I happen to be a surgeon and can perform that procedure, but you have nothing here. Even if we wanted to operate, we couldn't."
Zhao Yuan ignored him, instead ordering the people carrying Feng Ming, "Bring him inside!"
He then spun around, rushed into the house, and called to his father, Zhao Shiquan. They moved a table and a wooden door panel, fashioning them into a makeshift operating table.
Outside, after a moment of consideration, Feng Ming's parents decided to trust Zhao Yuan.
After all, they were from the same village and had watched Zhao Yuan grow up. They believed he would never do anything to harm Feng Ming.
The group of strangers, however, kept insisting that they should rush Feng Ming to the hospital down the mountain. Although the villagers didn't do as they said, they remained polite, knowing the strangers' advice was also for Feng Ming's well-being.
Feng Ming was quickly carried into the house and placed on the makeshift operating table. At the same time, Zhao Yuan secretly retrieved the set of Traditional Chinese Medicine surgical tools he had previously crafted from his Storage Ring Space.
This set of surgical instruments had never been used since it was made. Its debut would be for a highly difficult surgery under the harshest of conditions!
However, Zhao Yuan was confident they would be up to the task!
Because they were a set of surgical Divine Artifacts!
The group of strangers followed them into the house. When they saw Zhao Yuan take out a set of surgical instruments, they were all stunned.
But they quickly raised a new objection. "Even if you have surgical tools, we have no blood plasma, no medicine, let alone equipment like ventilators or defibrillators! To rashly perform surgery in such utterly primitive conditions is incredibly difficult. The slightest mistake and Xiaofeng will be dead!"
"Do you have a better idea, then?" Zhao Yuan asked without looking up.
"Of course! Rush him to the hospital down the mountain!" one of the pretty young women said anxiously.
"There's no time," Zhao Yuan said, shaking his head with a grave expression. "In Feng Ming's current state, he'll be dead before you even reach the hospital."
Deng Chang sighed and nodded. "You're right. Xiaofeng's condition is indeed critical. Our only option now is to take a gamble: suture the damaged artery first, and then get him to a hospital. It's incredibly risky, but a slim chance of survival is better than none at all."
As he spoke, he started directing his companions and the villagers in the courtyard. "Quick! Boil some water, find some clean towels, and scald them in the boiling water to sterilize them!"
There were obviously no hemostatic cotton balls or gauze pads here; they had to settle for making do with clean towels. Fortunately, Zhao Yuan's family was preparing for a large feast, so there was plenty of boiled water ready to use, which would save a lot of time.
"Do what he says," Zhao Yuan said.
Even if Deng Chang hadn't said it, Zhao Yuan would have given the same order.
Deng Chang dashed to the side of the makeshift operating table and shouted to his companions, "Yang Li, Wu Mei, you two will be my assistants. Help me with this surgery!"
The two young women he'd called were nurses from his hospital. He then turned to Zhao Yuan. "You too, young man. Come lend a hand. This is the first time I've ever operated under conditions like this! Hooo… Calm! I must stay calm!"
Slapping his cheeks a couple of times, Deng Chang reached for the scalpel Zhao Yuan had placed on the adjacent table.
The moment the scalpel was in his hand, he let out a surprised "Huh?" Something felt off; it didn't have the feel of stainless steel. He glanced down, only to discover the scalpel was made of stone. He gasped, "This is a stone knife?"
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