The Fortunate Lady and Her Mountain Man

Chapter 221: Chapter 221: The Surgery Begins

Tendon repair was tricky. The trouble was that each severed end had to be aligned perfectly, without leaving the slightest gap. Otherwise, healing would be poor and recovery time prolonged.

But the sutures couldn’t be too tight either. Overly tight stitches would cause the tendon to wrinkle, which would impede its movement.

They had anesthetized the tendons in his hands first, so those were the first to be sutured.

Xin Ziqi used his family’s ancestral suturing technique, and his skill went without saying.

There was a limited amount Ji Huan could do. She made small talk to distract the homeless man while keeping a close eye on the surgery. She also acted as an assistant, handing over cotton cloths to stanch the bleeding and so on.

The tendons in his right hand were in worse condition. Fortunately, the wound wasn’t infected, as Ji Huan had already disinfected it beforehand.

The ruptured tendon had retracted slightly. Under the effects of the anesthetic, they stretched it back into place. Seeing the homeless man’s expression remain unchanged, Xin Ziqi grew bolder with his movements.

Treating the hands wasn’t overly difficult, but it required an extremely high degree of precision. Immersed in the surgery, Xin Ziqi was completely focused; even his breathing was cautious.

Suturing this one area alone took nearly a full two-hour period. Only then did they move on to his left hand.

As for the left hand, although they had made a preliminary judgment, the naked eye couldn’t see what was inside. They had no choice but to reopen the wound.

The situation inside brought a sigh of relief from both Ji Huan and Xin Ziqi.

As they suspected, the tendon in this hand had only sustained a superficial laceration and was already healing on its own. All they needed to do was suture the external wound.

After they finished with both hands, it was naturally time for the Achilles tendons.

The Achilles tendon is the strongest and thickest tendon in the human calf.

Its upper end connects to the calf muscles, while its lower end attaches to the heel bone. It plays a crucial role in leg movements like jumping, walking, and running. Its importance was self-evident.

Naturally, it was also much more troublesome to repair than an ordinary tendon.

Ji Huan timed it perfectly, applying anesthetic to the homeless man’s ankle in advance for a seamless transition.

It wasn’t that she didn’t want to let Xin Ziqi rest, but the anesthetic on the homeless man’s wrists had already worn off for the most part. ’If they don’t hurry, once the real pain sets in...’

Furthermore, the Achilles tendon would take relatively more time. The anesthetic wouldn’t last until the end; it was almost certain that immense pain would erupt.

All they could do now was give it their all, fighting for every single second.

Ji Huan first administered local anesthesia to his right ankle, as its condition was similar to his left hand and wouldn’t take too long to treat.

However, perhaps because he had tried to walk on this foot several times, the wound was not healing well.

To be absolutely safe, Xin Ziqi still decided to reinforce it with a few simple stitches.

After getting Ji Huan’s consent, he switched to using absorbable sutures for this area and all other external wounds that didn’t involve tendons.

In the end, he really wanted to test the effectiveness of this type of suture.

Unsurprisingly, not long after they began suturing the right foot, the anesthesia on the homeless man’s wrists wore off.

It was Ji Huan who noticed it from the man’s increasingly tense body. He hadn’t even made a sound.

Xin Ziqi was completely absorbed in the surgery, so Ji Huan didn’t dare distract him. She leaned close to the homeless man and whispered, "Is it starting to hurt?"

The homeless man’s brow was deeply furrowed. He didn’t answer, nor did he nod or shake his head.

This time, Ji Huan didn’t press him for a response.

The anesthetic wearing off, the sensation of pain returning to a wound... ’That feeling... I’ve experienced it too.’

On one hand, she felt the homeless man was unbelievably tough. No one would laugh at him for crying out in pain.

On the other hand, she couldn’t help but admire his fortitude.

She continued her one-sided chatter, trying to distract him, while paying extra attention to his bandaged wrists to prevent him from clenching his fists or struggling.

At the same time, watching Xin Ziqi’s needle fly, she was filled with a different set of emotions. Every insertion, every exit, every pull of the thread felt as if it were happening to her own body—skin tightening, flesh aching, a numbing sensation spreading all over...

Xin Ziqi finally tied a deft knot, and Ji Huan quickly handed him the scissors.

He took them, cleanly snipped the thread, and used the fine cotton cloth she passed him to wipe away the blood seeping from the suture line.

It was only then that he noticed something was wrong with the homeless man.

"Did the anesthetic wear off?"

"Yes."

"Then what do we do?" he asked. After all, they hadn’t even started on the left foot, the most difficult part.

Ji Huan hesitated.

Logic told her they couldn’t delay any longer, but she couldn’t imagine how the homeless man could possibly endure his current situation, let alone what was to come.

"Can you... still take it?" she asked the man.

The homeless man, who had been staring at the ground, slowly raised his head. "I can."

His jet-black eyes fixed on Ji Huan’s face, his gaze sharp and compelling.

Ji Huan’s breath caught in her chest.

’It’s just a simple glance. Why does it carry such a profound sense of pressure?’

She thought it must be her imagination, but when she tried to look again to confirm, the homeless man had already averted his gaze.

Meanwhile, Xin Ziqi was already urging her to hurry.

The anesthetic on the left foot was starting to take effect. Since they were using the three-bundle suture technique Ji Huan had mentioned, Xin Ziqi wasn’t very confident and needed her to supervise.

Ji Huan tied a makeshift tourniquet around the man’s thigh, and Xin Ziqi repeated the same procedure as before.

He took the scalpel and made a long cut along the back and inner side of the ankle. He cut all the way down to the tissue next to the tendon, then carefully separated it to expose the severed ends of the Achilles. He cleaned the wound, washed it out, and removed the clotted blood from the break.

By the time he completed this series of steps, more than half the anesthesia time was gone, and the effects on the right foot had long since faded.

In other words, besides the left foot currently undergoing surgery, three of the homeless man’s four limbs were now wracked with excruciating pain.

Ji Huan had to focus on Xin Ziqi’s side of things and couldn’t spare the attention to look at the homeless man.

Or rather, she was subconsciously avoiding looking his way.

She didn’t dare. She was afraid of seeing his face contorted in agony, his eyes stretched wide with unbearable pain.

The best solution was to focus all her attention on the task at hand.

The condition of the left Achilles tendon was indeed worse than they had imagined. It wasn’t just retracted; there were other complications as well.

It was clearly much trickier for Xin Ziqi to handle.

Ji Huan repeatedly reminded him to be careful and not to damage the blood supply on the anterior side of the tendon.

Xin Ziqi didn’t fully understand what she meant, but he knew this wasn’t the time to ask, so he followed her instructions.

He arranged the tissue at the severed ends of the tendon into three bundles—two proximal and one distal. Then, using the Bunnell suture technique Ji Huan had also taught him, he stitched each of the three bundles separately.

After completing these steps, he then repaired the tendon by suturing the two proximal bundles to the distal bundle using an end-to-end method.

The difficulty in this step lay in maintaining the proper tension at the rupture site during repair. He couldn’t shorten the Achilles tendon too much, or it would affect the man’s mobility after he recovered.

But just as he was halfway through suturing, the anesthetic on this foot also wore off.

The homeless man’s spine was as taut as a bowstring, his gaunt shoulder blades jutting out sharply.

His entire body was trembling, an uncontrollable shudder.

Ji Huan circled to the head of the bed and crouched down to look at him. His eyes were bloodshot and bulging, looking as if they were about to pop from their sockets. Veins throbbed at his temples, and a GRINDING sound came from his tightly clenched jaw.

The pain from the other three limbs was postoperative pain; it was nothing compared to the piercing agony in his left foot.

The anesthetic had worn off, yet the surgery on this foot was still underway.

’Just how much pain... was he in?’

’And... could he really last until the end?’

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