The Fortunate Lady and Her Mountain Man

Chapter 219: Chapter 219: Precious Sutures

It’s hard to say if Xin Ziqi slept well that night, but Ji Huan was busy until late before finally getting to bed.

Xin Ziqi didn’t listen to Ji Huan’s advice to come later; he arrived bright and early, well before 9 a.m.

When Ji Huan saw not a trace of fatigue on his face, she couldn’t tell if he was genuinely well-rested or just eager to test the anesthetic.

After all, getting excited about difficult cases or new medicines was a common professional ailment for most physicians.

But since he seemed to be in top form, there was no need to say anything more. The two of them went to the mud hut together.

The surgery was expected to be long, so Ji Huan couldn’t afford to be distracted by running back and forth from home. If she left Dabao with Hu Dacheng, neither would get any lunch. And she certainly didn’t want to bring Dabao here... In the end, she sent him to the Hu Family, asking Widow Xie to look after him.

Hu Liang was getting restless cooped up at home. When he heard they were treating the vagrant today, he ran over to watch the excitement.

This time, however, Ji Huan didn’t let him in. To be more precise, all non-essential personnel were kept outside, including Hu Dacheng, who arrived a short while later.

After seeing Xin Ziqi off the previous day, Ji Huan had come to the mud hut that evening to bring the vagrant his meal. She had taken the opportunity to spray her homemade disinfectant everywhere, inside and out. She had then returned in the morning to spray it all again.

Even if she couldn’t completely sterilize the room or reduce the airborne microbial count to an acceptable level, she had to do everything possible to ensure the surgical environment was clean, dust-free, and well-ventilated.

Before they went inside, Ji Huan had Xin Ziqi change into a peculiar-looking smock. It reached below his knees and tied in the back, and came with a matching cap and mask.

But none of that mattered. The main point was, they were all white.

Ping’an thought it was an ill omen, but Xin Ziqi voiced no objections, deferring to Ji Huan’s arrangements.

Ji Huan found a moment to explain, "A physician needs a clean, safe environment, and that includes their own person. It’s for the good of both you and the patient..."

’She hadn’t originally planned on making them white. To the people of this era, it was practically the same as wearing sackcloth and ashes for mourning.’

’Never mind whether the physician themselves would find it unlucky; the patient would probably pass out on the spot. Weren’t they basically cursing him to die?’

’Besides, during an operation, you were bound to get blood on you. White showed stains too vividly. A blood-stained white garment would not only be frightening to look at, but also difficult to clean.’

’There was another factor, too. When a surgeon stares at bright red blood for an extended period, looking away can cause a visual illusion—a complementary color afterimage. This can break their concentration and even affect the outcome of the surgery.’

’Green and blue are the very colors that prevent this afterimage effect. They also help ease a patient’s anxiety, making them feel more comfortable. Plus, even if they get stained with blood, it shows up as a dark, less conspicuous color.’

"I wanted to make them blue or green, but I couldn’t find any fabric in those colors at home on such short notice... Here, wash your hands with this."

Next to the washbasin was a pottery jar containing a thick, brown liquid that gave off a strong smell of medicinal herbs.

"It’s a disinfectant I prepared. Don’t assume your hands are clean after just one wash with water. The human body is covered in bacteria invisible to the naked eye. It’s fine under normal circumstances, but you have to be especially careful when operating on a patient. Otherwise, no matter how perfect your surgery is, it could all be undone by a single tiny infection..."

Xin Ziqi scooped a little into his palm. He sniffed it, his mind already starting to analyze it. Fortunately, he hadn’t forgotten the task at hand.

Seeing that he was nearly ready, Ji Huan prepared to wait outside.

’She was a little worried, but this was the ancient world, not the modern one. Medical knowledge was typically passed down from master to apprentice or father to son. Outsiders weren’t permitted to so much as glimpse their techniques.’

’This was especially true for the Xin family’s hereditary medical arts, which were strictly forbidden from being shared with outsiders.’

Just as she was about to turn away, Xin Ziqi reached out an arm to stop her.

"We agreed to treat him together."

Ji Huan stared at him in surprise.

Xin Ziqi wore the same impassive expression as always.

"You were willing to so generously share the formula for such a miraculous anesthetic with me. What need is there for me to keep secrets from you? Besides, I doubt you’d be interested in the Xin family’s humble techniques."

Ji Huan smiled. "I agree with everything you said, except for that last part. After you, Doctor Xin."

A faint smile finally touched Xin Ziqi’s lips.

Ji Huan put on the smock, cap, and mask that had been prepared for Ping’an, his assistant. After washing and disinfecting her hands, she entered the main room with Xin Ziqi, and the door was closed behind them.

Although the heated brick bed was directly across from the window, the room became rather dim once the door was shut. Fortunately, Ji Huan had anticipated this. She’d had Hu Liang bring over a wooden plank bed to serve as a temporary operating table.

The wooden bed was pushed up against the wall under the window. The vagrant was now lying on it, his eyes fixed on the ceiling beams. He would go a long time without blinking, and she wondered if he was nervous.

Ji Huan had no time to dwell on his state of mind. She was busy examining Xin Ziqi’s rudimentary surgical kit.

’In her previous life, she knew that common surgical instruments like tweezers and scissors had already been found among excavated Tang dynasty artifacts.’

’By the Song dynasty, a complete set of common surgical tools had appeared—including needles, scissors, knives, forceps, and chisels—all of which were documented in the medical texts of the era.’

’And among the medical instruments unearthed from the Ming dynasty, in addition to iron and bronze scissors and tweezers, there was a type of willow-leaf-shaped blade. With its pointed tip, it was already very similar to a modern scalpel.’

The scalpel Xin Ziqi typically used was of this willow-leaf design.

The rest were all there as well: scissors, tweezers, hooks, clamps, three-edged needles, flat-bladed knives, and crescent-moon blades.

Though they all looked a bit crude in design, they were far better than she had anticipated.

Ji Huan let out a huge sigh of relief.

But unexpectedly, an even bigger surprise was in store.

From the very bottom of the surgical kit, Xin Ziqi lifted out a boxwood case, holding it as if it were a priceless treasure. He opened it to reveal a pale blue, nearly transparent thread inside.

"This is..." ’Ji Huan had already guessed what it was; she just couldn’t believe it.’

Xin Ziqi, thinking she didn’t recognize it, explained, "There are several coastal cities in the South that frequently trade with the Fan Country. Before my father’s... incident, I was traveling in that region and had the good fortune to meet a physician from the Fan Country. He said that if you use this thread to suture a wound, it doesn’t need to be removed after it heals. Over time, it will fuse with the skin and flesh. I paid a hefty price for it, and this little bit was all I could get."

Ji Huan picked up a strand and placed it in her palm. She examined it, then sniffed it. She was now almost certain.

’She had no idea how they produced it with the technology of this era, but this was undoubtedly absorbable suture—and the raw material was most likely some kind of sheep intestine.’

’It was hard-won and carefully treasured, something he had always been reluctant to use. Yet now he was taking it out to treat a vagrant.’

Ji Huan could more or less guess what was on Xin Ziqi’s mind.

’The anesthetic was such a massive breakthrough that he wanted everything else involved in the procedure to be of the highest possible quality. It had nothing to do with who the patient was; he simply wanted to help bring this miracle to its most perfect fruition.’

’What a pity...’

"This is indeed an incredibly rare suturing material, but it’s not suitable for this particular situation. At the very least, it can’t be used on the vagrant."

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