It wasn’t particularly rare for doctors to experiment on themselves. When Qi Yue was still in school, she had witnessed classmates practicing injections on themselves. But this was completely incomparable to what Liu Pucheng was doing.

Those were harmless practice sessions—at most they’d hurt a bit—but Liu Pucheng was risking his life!

“Are you mad?!” Qi Yue shouted in a trembling voice. “Setting aside the pain, what if the wound gets infected? If you die before finding the medicine, is it worth it? Doctor Liu, I’ve told you before that this medicine will eventually be created. Why must you put yourself through this…”

Liu Pucheng smiled and straightened his clothes.

“It’s worth it. Even if we can’t find it, we’ll have proven which combinations don’t work, giving future generations fewer choices to consider.” He said gently, “As physicians, what we fear isn’t pain and injury, but being unable to see the path forward. You’ve already pointed us in the right direction—that’s enough. No matter how many detours we take, there will come a day when we find the correct path.”

Qi Yue looked at him, unable to say a word, filled with shock, excitement, and overwhelming admiration.

This was what a physician was, this was the way of medicine. For doctors like him, medicine wasn’t just a profession—it was their life’s purpose.

She looked down at the porcelain bottle of medicine Liu Pucheng had handed her.

She recalled reading that Li Shizhen had tasted countless herbs to create anesthetics, nearly dying from poisoning several times. In the eyes of these medical predecessors, this was nothing extraordinary—it was simply what they should and must do. As long as there was even a glimmer of hope, they would try without hesitation, even if it yielded nothing.

Perhaps the way of medicine wasn’t about the results, but about the process—whether you dared to try, whether you would try, and how you would try.

The crying and shouting from the other side once again struck Qi Yue’s heart.

When physicians encountered patients, their first consideration wasn’t whether they could save them, but how to save them…

“A’Ru,” she turned around and called out loudly.

A’Ru had been nervously watching from the side. Hearing Qi Yue’s call, she hurried over.

“Hu San, prepare water and alcohol,” Qi Yue said while putting on the surgical gown A’Ru had brought out.

Hu San was still in shock over Qi Yue’s identity. His senior brother had to push him before he snapped back to reality.

“Yes, Master,” he shouted loudly, raising his hand to the surrounding people. “Please make way—who can show me where to boil water?”

His voice was loud, drowning out the crying and shouting in the room as well as the conversations of the other doctors.

Everyone looked over and saw Qi Yue dressed in strange clothing.

“Please everyone step back. I need to conduct a detailed examination of the patient. Please step back,” Qi Yue announced loudly.

The people in the room froze.

“What more nonsense are you planning? Stop making a fool of yourself here. Look at yourself,” Madam Xie frowned at Qi Yue and scolded in a low voice.

Since they’d been treating patients, the courtyard was well-equipped. Hu San quickly returned with water and alcohol.

Qi Yue ignored Madam Xie’s words, washed her hands with water, rubbed them with alcohol, and had A’Ru hand her gloves. After putting everything on, Qi Yue strode toward the patient.

“Young Madam, you…” the magistrate, his face covered in dust and grime, stared at her in bewilderment.

“I want to try,” Qi Yue said, stopping in front of the patient who was writhing all over the bed. “Be good, lie still and let Auntie—no, let me take a look…”

The patient was a child of about ten years old, already delirious from pain and unable to understand her words.

“Help me hold him down,” Qi Yue said.

The magistrate and his wife were standing nearby. Hearing this, they hesitated for a moment, then the magistrate’s wife struggled to hold the child’s head.

“Young Madam, please…” she looked at Qi Yue with tears in her eyes.

When the magistrate’s wife moved, the magistrate also sat down and held the child’s legs.

“I’ll do my best,” Qi Yue’s voice came out muffled from behind the mask as she took the stethoscope A’Ru handed her. “Does it hurt here? Here?”

As she moved, the child cried out in pain.

“Doctor, please give him more pain medicine,” the magistrate’s wife cried.

“No, I need to find where the critical injury is—I can’t give him painkillers,” Qi Yue said, pressing continuously on the patient’s chest and abdomen. With each press, the child’s cries grew louder.

Without instruments, she only had her hands and ears.

It was too cruel. The other people in the room, including the doctors, couldn’t bear to watch and turned away.

“Too rough. Even if he wasn’t injured, she’d create injuries,” one doctor said quietly.

At that moment, the most agonizing scream rang out.

“Is it here?” Qi Yue asked as if she’d discovered a new continent, excitedly stopping her hands and pressing again.

The child let out a piercing scream, and despite being held down by his parents, he curled up.

The magistrate’s wife nearly fainted and wanted to kneel before Qi Yue.

“How does it hurt?” Qi Yue asked.

The child had no way to explain how it hurt—besides crying and screaming, he could only cry and scream.

“You bitch, bitch…” he cursed between his screams.

Qi Yue paid no attention. Based on the painful area, physical symptoms, blood pressure, and stethoscope examination, she could basically confirm it was a ruptured spleen. However, what puzzled her was that the symptoms suggested the internal bleeding seemed to be under control.

“I gave him hemostatic herbal medicine,” Liu Pucheng said from the side.

“Excellent,” Qi Yue clenched her fists and looked at Liu Pucheng. “I have some sutures. I can operate on him immediately, but I need assistants.”

Liu Pucheng nodded.

“It would be my honor,” he said.

“Master, I can help too,” Hu San also called out eagerly.

The senior disciple hesitated. Medical techniques were always kept secret, not passed to anyone outside the school. Without an invitation, even though his master was participating, as a disciple he…

“Good. A’Ru, take them to change clothes and sterilize,” Qi Yue said.

A’Ru nodded.

“Follow me,” she said, turning to leave.

Liu Pucheng and Hu San hurried after her. The senior disciple stood uncertainly for a moment, then gritted his teeth and followed.

This was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to witness miraculous medical techniques firsthand—even if it meant losing face, he couldn’t miss it.

“Everyone please leave. I need to prepare for surgery,” Qi Yue called out loudly, raising her hands.

The room erupted in chaos.

“Really going to open the abdomen?” everyone was discussing.

For ordinary people, cutting open a person’s belly meant certain death. For the doctors, their theories told them it was possible, but that only existed in books—distant, almost legendary. In practice, none had ever seen it. Where had this young woman learned such medical skills that she dared attempt such a thing?

“Get out, everyone out!” The magistrate, most concerned about his son’s life and death, immediately began driving people out upon hearing Qi Yue’s words.

When he spoke, Marquis Dingxi also snapped back to reality and commanded the nearly stupefied servants to clear the area. Soon everyone was driven out.

Qi Yue directed the servants to set up the operating room. This time, with no medicine to rely on, every move had to be perfect and careful.

Two tables were pushed together and placed in the center of the main hall.

A’Ru brought in the sterilized Liu Pucheng and Hu San.

“I don’t have anti-inflammatory medicine. I need the kind of herbal medicine that can disinfect, fight bacteria, and reduce inflammation. Traditional Chinese medicine must have some, right?” Qi Yue asked Liu Pucheng.

“Disinfect, fight bacteria, reduce inflammation?” Liu Pucheng was unfamiliar with these terms and frowned thoughtfully.

“It’s for treating carbuncles, boils, sores, and festering wounds… like… like…” Qi Yue anxiously searched her memory for Chinese medicine terminology. “Like purple flower violet!”

She said this term, but saw the people in front of her still looked blank.

“Purple flower violet? What is that?” Liu Pucheng asked with a frown.

“Ah?” Now it was Qi Yue’s turn to look confused. “You don’t have it here? It’s a medicinal herb.”

“I’ve never heard of it…” Liu Pucheng shook his head.

Qi Yue was dumbfounded.

“However, for treating carbuncles, boils, sores, and festering wounds, I commonly use sophora root, phellodendron bark, cnidium seeds, and the like,” Liu Pucheng added. “I wonder if they would work?”

Whether they’ll work or not, I don’t know either, Qi Yue thought to herself. With time running short and treating this as a last resort anyway, let’s try it.

Liu Pucheng immediately considered and wrote a prescription, handing it to his senior disciple who hurried off to prepare it.

Qi Yue continued explaining to Liu Pucheng the possible complications during surgery and what needed to be prepared.

“Although the bleeding has stopped, there’s definitely blood in the abdomen. Without suction, we can only use gauze and cotton,” Qi Yue said.

Hu San quickly wrote this down.

“Then there’s anti-shock treatment…” Qi Yue said.

After several interactions with Qi Yue, Liu Pucheng had become familiar with her terminology and understood what shock meant.

“Ginseng Four Adversities Decoction,” he immediately told Hu San beside him.

Hu San quickly noted this down. When Qi Yue said to go prepare it quickly, he and A’Ru flew out like birds.

Soon all preparations for surgery were complete, but another problem arose during the clearing of the room.

The magistrate and his wife absolutely refused to leave, insisting on staying to personally watch their son’s surgery.

“Your presence here will interfere with my work. You can’t stand the sight of blood and flesh—you’ll be frightened…” Qi Yue patiently tried to persuade them.

“But if I don’t watch, I really won’t feel at ease. I promise I won’t interfere,” the magistrate’s wife cried.

Everyone said this, but even for modern people, despite extensive media coverage, seeing surgical scenes could still be frightening, let alone these ancient people who had never witnessed such bloody medical procedures. Just think of A’Ru’s mother last time—she fainted on the spot.

Qi Yue patiently explained.

“But no matter what, if I don’t see it with my own eyes, I won’t feel at ease,” the magistrate’s wife finally shouted out what was in her heart.

The magistrate’s face showed the same firm determination.

“In that case, please take the young master and leave,” Chang Yuncheng’s voice came from behind the crowd.

The crowd parted, and Qi Yue saw Chang Yuncheng walking forward step by step.

“Since you’re unwilling to trust her, then seek help elsewhere,” he said, stopping at the steps.

The magistrate and his wife were embarrassed by these words.

“How can you speak like that?” Madam Xie couldn’t help but scold her son for the first time. She didn’t know why she suddenly spoke this way. Previously, in her eyes and heart, whatever Chang Yuncheng did was right—all she had to do was listen to him without having to worry about anything. Perhaps it was because her son would speak up for this woman…

Madam Xie felt a mixture of emotions. She glanced at Chang Yuncheng, then at Qi Yue standing opposite him, feeling as if she’d been stabbed and turned away.