When Que Zhi knocked on Qi Yue’s door, Qi Yue was eating breakfast.

Seeing Que Zhi arrive, Qi Yue was very happy, while A’Hao snorted and turned her head away, ignoring her.

Originally, Old Madam Xie had intended to bring over all the senior maids that Qi Yue had previously used, but Que Zhi refused to come. Not only did she not come, she somehow sweet-talked Madam Xie into keeping her in the young lord’s courtyard.

“How dare you show your face here? Don’t let us delay the great future of our big sister Que Zhi,” A’Hao snorted.

Que Zhi’s expression was slightly embarrassed, but she didn’t seem troubled.

Qi Yue didn’t think much of it either—everyone had the right to choose their own life.

“How did you come? Have you eaten?” she asked with a smile.

“This servant hasn’t come to see the young mistress yet. Today I happened to have time to go out, so I ran over to take a look and put my mind at ease,” Que Zhi said, bowing as her gaze swept over Qi Yue’s breakfast table.

On the table were two dishes of food, a plate of fried pastries, and a bowl of porridge—nothing else besides these.

Looking around the room, the tables, chairs, and furnishings were clean and tidy, but everything appeared extremely simple.

Compared to the marquis’s mansion, this was truly like heaven and earth.

Que Zhi couldn’t help but feel grateful again that she hadn’t come along at the time.

“Thank you for your thoughtfulness,” Qi Yue smiled, inviting her to eat.

“No, I don’t dare stay long. Knowing the young mistress is well puts my mind at ease,” Que Zhi quickly smiled.

“Master! Master!” came urgent knocking at the door, accompanied by anxious calls.

Qi Yue quickly swallowed her porridge in two or three gulps.

“It’s Hu San,” she said.

Yuan Bao had already opened the door.

“Master, Master wants you to come quickly. There’s a severe trauma case, and Master suspects internal bleeding,” Hu San said breathlessly.

“A’Hao, you see Que Zhi off,” Qi Yue said, getting up briskly and running out.

A’Ru followed immediately.

“Young mistress, you don’t need to…” Que Zhi hurried to say, but when she looked, the courtyard was already empty.

“Let’s go, big sister Que Zhi,” A’Hao said indifferently.

“I stayed at home because I want the young lord to remember the young mistress when he sees me. That way the young lord won’t forget the young mistress…” Que Zhi said quietly with a smile.

A’Hao interrupted her with a cold laugh.

“Go on, you can think about it yourself. We’re not interested,” she said.

Que Zhi’s face reddened slightly.

“People move toward higher places—what’s wrong with that?” she said.

“Nothing wrong with that, but it’s wrong to come here and laugh at us for moving to lower places,” A’Hao replied, opening the door. “Besides, who knows who’s living better in the end?”

My goodness. Que Zhi looked at her, wanting to laugh but not daring to, and finally said nothing as she left.

In Qianjin Hall, Qi Yue examined the injured person while the patient’s family members around him also examined her.

Seeing Qi Yue lift the last covering cloth from the injured person’s body, the men could no longer bear to watch.

“Hey, hey, hey, what are you doing, woman?” the rough men couldn’t help but shout.

“I’m examining him. I’m a doctor, don’t worry,” Qi Yue said. “My surname is Qi, and I’m a doctor at Qianjin Hall. If you don’t believe me, you can ask around on the street.”

The men looked at her with suspicion as Qi Yue continued her examination.

“…The head and chest injuries are the most severe. When brought in, he was already unconscious. I first performed hemostasis and brain protection, but the situation still doesn’t look good. According to the pulse, the five organs and six viscera are injured,” Liu Pucheng said.

Qi Yue nodded, looking at the patient diagnosis Zhang Tong handed her while taking the stethoscope A’Ru passed to her.

“…No abnormalities in the circulatory and respiratory systems,” she said after listening, removing the stethoscope. “There’s fluid accumulation in the left chest cavity.”

Liu Pucheng nodded, receiving confirmation.

“The patient has never regained consciousness?” Qi Yue looked at the injured person.

Liu Pucheng nodded.

“Excessive blood loss and craniocerebral trauma can indeed cause unconsciousness. When we received him last night, I treated him focusing on the head injury and administered Wind-Dispersing Qi-Regulating Decoction, but he still didn’t wake up. Then I performed pulse diagnosis and discovered it was an internal organ problem,” he said.

Qi Yue frowned, her gaze falling on the injured person’s body. CT scan, oh CT scan—at times like this, she truly missed it with heart-wrenching intensity…

She reached up to scratch her head.

“Teacher, wake him up,” she said. “We need questioning and palpation to determine the location of the injury.”

Liu Pucheng nodded, took out golden needles, and began needling the patient’s Baihui, Shenque, and other acupoints, after which Zhang Tong brought over moxibustion.

At this point, Qi Yue couldn’t help much. She watched carefully, having to admit that traditional Chinese medicine’s anti-shock effects were truly remarkable.

After the time it took to burn one incense stick, the injured person slowly awakened, immediately letting out groans and curling up his body.

“Good man,” Qi Yue called out, having disciples hold down his hands and feet. “Can you hear me speaking?”

This call of “good man” made the injured person look at her, and Qi Yue waved her hand in front of his face.

“Good man, I’m a doctor. I need to examine and treat you now. You must tell me where it hurts,” she said loudly, speaking while beginning to press down along his neck.

“I don’t hurt…” the good man said through gritted teeth.

Qi Yue’s face darkened—that wasn’t what she meant by “good man.”

“Pain is pain. Pain isn’t something shameful. Those who don’t know pain are just dead people,” she said loudly, increasing the pressure of her hands.

The injured person finally let out a wail.

“It hurts, it hurts here…”

“What about here?”

“It hurts…”

Watching the man’s increasingly loud cries of pain and his body breaking into sweat, the surrounding men’s eyes reddened.

“Hey, you woman…” one of them couldn’t help but say.

Before he could finish, Liu Pucheng stopped him.

“Your big brother’s injuries are to the five organs and six viscera. Because we can’t see them, we must know exactly where the injuries are. The human body doesn’t lie—this is the only way to find the most severe injury sites,” he said.

The men stopped talking.

Here, Qi Yue questioned and pressed, finally completing her examination, but she was covered in sweat and remained silent for a long while, deep in thought.

Everyone in the room watched her.

“I suspect it’s mediastinal hematoma…” she murmured, her brow furrowed tightly as she looked at the wound on the man’s chest.

What was that?

The people in the room looked at her with confusion.

The wooden board used for teaching was pushed over, and Qi Yue picked up a piece of charcoal, quickly sketching a human anatomical diagram on it.

“Here, this is the mediastinum…” she heavily circled it with the charcoal, pointing it out to everyone.

The injured person’s family members stared at each other, looking at the completely incomprehensible diagram. What was that?

Qi Yue reached out and pulled over Hu San, pointing out locations on his body again.

“…Within it are the heart and the major blood vessels entering and leaving the heart, the esophagus, trachea, thymus, nerves, and lymphatic tissue…” she said, pointing out each one to everyone. “And now, the patient has blood accumulation in this area due to external trauma, causing hematoma. If the hematoma isn’t eliminated promptly, it will lead to mediastinal infection and ultimately circulatory organ failure and death.”

The men still listened in confusion.

“But other doctors said our big brother’s head injury was severe. How can you say it’s some… medias… whatever?” one of them asked with wide eyes.

“Other doctors?” Qi Yue smiled. “Then why didn’t you have the other doctors treat him?”

This question stunned the men.

“Since you came here, that means you’re listening to me. At this point, bringing up other doctors’ diagnoses to deny my diagnosis isn’t very appropriate, is it?” Qi Yue said again.

This woman’s temper wasn’t very good, the men thought to themselves.

“Then how should we treat it?” Liu Pucheng asked.

Qi Yue’s brow furrowed tightly.

“Open chest surgery,” she said, making a cutting motion across her chest. “Split open the sternum, eliminate the hematoma, and suture the bleeding site.”

Split open… the sternum…

For the people at Qianjin Hall who had witnessed abdominal surgery, this wasn’t particularly surprising. Moreover, Liu Pucheng had already decided in his heart that they would definitely need to open up and examine the internal organs.

But the injured person’s family members were hearing this for the first time, their eyes widening. What kind of joke was this!

“Could a person still live after that?” they all cried out.

“Nonsense!” Qi Yue shouted, drowning out their voices. “This is a medical hall, not a slaughterhouse! Naturally, we save lives, not kill people!”

This woman’s temper really was…

“Can opening the chest cure him?” a man asked.

“I can’t guarantee it,” Qi Yue said.

The scene erupted in commotion again.

“This surgery is different from abdominal surgery. I lack the instruments, and also…” Qi Yue bit her lower lip.

“Is it because of medicine again?” Liu Pucheng asked.

Qi Yue shook her head.

“The instruments for chest surgery are different from abdominal surgery—rib cutters, retractors… I don’t have any of them. More importantly, without CT scans, I can’t see enhanced chest CT images. I can’t determine exactly what the condition is. Mediastinal hematoma situations are very complex, it’s really…” She clenched the charcoal in her hand tightly and didn’t continue.

To save or not to save?

The room fell quiet.

“If we don’t open the chest, what will happen to our big brother?” a man asked.

“He’ll die,” Qi Yue said.

The men looked at each other and gathered together to discuss, while Hu San couldn’t help but come over.

“Master, our Qianjin Hall has just expanded its business. If something goes wrong, our reputation…” he said quietly.

Now that they no longer had the Marquis Dingxi’s mansion as a big tree behind them, what would they do if something went wrong?

When he didn’t mention this, Qi Yue was still hesitating, but hearing him say this made her suddenly clear-headed.

“Although I may not be able to save his life, rather than watching him die helplessly, I’d rather try,” she said, standing straight and looking at these people.

Hu San was stunned—that wasn’t what he meant…

Liu Pucheng, who had been about to say something, no longer spoke, looking at Qi Yue with a slight nod, his eyes full of relief.

The men looked at this woman. Her face was more beautiful than any they had ever seen, but beyond beauty, there was more spirit—that confident spirit.

“Good!” they finally nodded, gritting their teeth.

“Then please sign the surgical consent form,” Qi Yue said.

Hu San immediately brought over a piece of paper.

The men looked at each other.

“We can’t read,” one of them said. “What does this say?”

“This contains information about the condition and surgical risks—everything I’ve already told you. If something happens to the patient, we need to be exempt from responsibility,” Qi Yue said.

“Good.” The leader extended his hand, dipped it in the vermillion ink Hu San held, and pressed his fingerprint.

“Prepare for emergency chest surgery. The surgical objective is to remove the hematoma,” Qi Yue said, putting down the charcoal and looking at everyone.

“Yes!” the disciples responded in unison.

The atmosphere in Qianjin Hall immediately became tense.