Noticing his mother’s displeasure, Chang Yuncheng quickly looked over.

“Mother, some things are better said in advance,” his tone softened, but his words remained firm. “I don’t want to save no one and instead hurt everyone’s harmony.”

Madam Xie had always stood by her son’s side. Having blurted out those words earlier, she was already somewhat regretful. Hearing his explanation now, she would never say more.

“So…” Chang Yuncheng looked again at the magistrate and his wife. “I want you both to understand one thing—we will do our utmost to treat your son, but whether he lives or dies still depends on fate.”

These words made the magistrate and his wife’s faces change.

“What?” The magistrate couldn’t help but say. “Are you saying that even opening the abdomen might not save him?”

This involved informing about the patient’s condition, which was her duty as a doctor to explain.

“Yes,” Qi Yue nodded, taking over from Chang Yuncheng. “Surgery carries great risks. I cannot guarantee your son can be saved.”

“Young Madam is being modest…” the magistrate said with a strained smile.

“I’m not being modest—this is fact,” Qi Yue said. “Actually, the chances of success are less than ten percent.”

Ten percent! That was essentially saying there was no hope at all!

The magistrate and his wife’s faces grew even more unsightly, and the magistrate’s wife collapsed to the ground.

“But that girl…” she cried.

“That girl was different from your son. I will do my best to treat him, but I dare not guarantee the outcome,” Qi Yue said. Though it pained her, she still had to deliver the critical condition notice.

“So, have you decided? Treat or not treat?” Chang Yuncheng said. “I’ll say this upfront—these doctors have all confirmed that your son cannot be saved and can only await death. So if treatment succeeds, everyone will be happy. If it fails, you both must understand in your hearts that this is your son’s fate.”

These words sounded harsh and cruel at this moment, causing everyone present to change color.

“Yuncheng, how can you speak like that!” Marquis Dingxi scolded.

“It’s better to say ugly words upfront, to avoid wasting effort and becoming the villain instead,” Chang Yuncheng bowed to his father respectfully, his attitude still firm.

The magistrate’s wife covered her mouth and wept bitterly, while the magistrate’s expression shifted constantly.

“Master, the anesthetic is ready,” the senior disciple’s voice came from inside the room.

“Try or not try?” Chang Yuncheng looked at the magistrate.

The magistrate gritted his teeth.

“Isn’t there still ten percent hope? Treat him,” he said hoarsely. “He’s already a dead man. If treated successfully, it’s Young Madam’s grace. If not, we accept it.”

“Good.” Chang Yuncheng raised his hand. “Someone come.”

Following his words, seven or eight people rushed in, all dressed as guards.

“All unrelated persons please leave the Marquis Dingxi residence. Magistrate, please rest in the guest room and wait. Guard the courtyard—without Young Madam’s permission, no one is allowed to enter,” Chang Yuncheng said with his hands behind his back.

The guards responded.

Qi Yue looked at Chang Yuncheng. He didn’t look at her but faced the courtyard.

“Lady Qi, let’s begin,” Liu Pucheng said.

Qi Yue nodded and turned to go inside. As the entire courtyard of people retreated, A’Ru and the senior disciple closed the four doors one by one.

Inside the room, surgical preparations were complete.

“Limbs are warming, pulse is strengthening, and heart sounds are much better,” Qi Yue finished examining with the stethoscope and said, while placing the blood pressure cuff and thermometer on the now-anesthetized patient. “A’Ru, you’re responsible for watching these readings. Alert me immediately if the numbers change.”

A’Ru, also wearing surgical gowns, mask, and head covering, nodded and positioned herself at the head of the bed.

“Senior brother…” Qi Yue looked at the senior disciple.

“Young Madam, my name is Zhang Tong…” the senior disciple hurriedly bowed, not daring to accept her address as senior brother.

“Good, Doctor Zhang, please assist me with pre-operative disinfection,” Qi Yue said, raising her hands to begin instruction.

Zhang Tong glanced at his master Liu Pucheng, who nodded at him.

“Listen to what the lady says,” he said.

Only then did Zhang Tong excitedly bow again and step forward.

Qi Yue directed him step by step to remove the patient’s clothes, add padding, and wipe the patient’s chest with herbal medicine and alcohol, then lay out sheets and surgical drapes.

Disinfection, technique, sequence, scope…

Qi Yue hadn’t done these things for some time, which reminded her of when she first started surgery.

“Don’t underestimate these surgical drapes. A senior once said that these drapes are the surgeon’s face,” Qi Yue smiled. “I used to…”

She stopped herself mid-sentence.

“Used to what?” Liu Pucheng asked.

In the past, being scolded mercilessly by the chief surgeon for improperly laid drapes was common. Later, she scolded quite a few young nurses herself…

Qi Yue smiled and glossed over it with a vague “nothing.”

Zhang Tong didn’t dare blink, staring intently to memorize everything, passing different sized drapes according to Qi Yue’s instructions.

“Is this the disinfection that you often emphasize?” Liu Pucheng asked from the side, seeing such detailed steps for the first time.

Treating patients and saving lives was always urgent and hurried. He had never seen such meticulous preparation work.

Were all these really necessary?

Qi Yue nodded.

“Yes, reducing bacterial infection is a very important step in treating injuries and saving lives,” she said.

Liu Pucheng nodded and said he was enlightened.

“Master, when my master and I see patients later, we also learned to do things like this,” Hu San eagerly added, then couldn’t help but smile. “Although everyone thinks doing this feels no different from before in terms of results, my master still requires everyone to do it this way.”

“Over time, you’ll see the difference,” Qi Yue smiled, once again nodding respectfully to Liu Pucheng.

Who said ancient people were conservative and feudal? This Doctor Liu from a thousand years ago, who had never encountered Western medicine, was so quick to accept new things.

“Now let’s begin. Doctor Liu, Hu San, you need to assist me with hemostasis, ligation, retraction, blood wiping, and suture cutting,” Qi Yue picked up the scalpel and positioned herself in front of the patient’s exposed surgical area, looking at Liu Pucheng and Hu San. “Have you ever seen human internal organs before?”

Hu San shook his head with frightened eyes, while Liu Pucheng was silent for a moment before nodding.

“We… sometimes buy unclaimed corpses…” he said quietly.

There was human dissection in ancient times?

“That’s excellent,” Qi Yue breathed a sigh of relief. “Then Doctor Liu surely won’t be afraid.”

“As doctors, what’s there to fear?” Liu Pucheng smiled.

“I’m not afraid either,” Hu San quickly said.

Qi Yue smiled and exhaled.

“Good, then let’s begin,” she said, lowering her head to make a steady, precise incision in the left upper abdomen, slightly off-center.

The skin parted. Though they had mentally prepared themselves, the three people in the room still tensed up. Knowing about it was one thing, but actually seeing a living person’s belly being cut open bit by bit, revealing flesh and blood, was quite another. Hu San and Zhang Tong felt their blood surge, while A’Ru forced herself not to look over, staring fixedly at the blood pressure gauge.

Liu Pucheng didn’t shift his gaze at all, watching Qi Yue’s every movement. The more he watched, the more amazed he became—such skilled movements, as if she were intimately familiar with the human body’s internal organs and meridians.

Watching these movements, Liu Pucheng could confirm without doubt that this woman was extremely familiar with human anatomy. But she was clearly not yet twenty years old—how could she be so familiar with human dissection at such a young age? Had she been exposed to this since childhood?

Liu Pucheng’s eyes couldn’t hide his shock. What kind of master was behind this woman?

When the abdominal cavity opened, even Liu Pucheng sucked in a cold breath.

Blood, blood everywhere…

Hu San turned and ran to the corner, vomiting into the spittoon, while Zhang Tong, responsible for watching the charcoal brazier and alcohol, was frightened pale.

“Use salt water-soaked cloth here… dry cloth here…” Qi Yue’s hands never stopped, nor did her mouth as she directed them.

Liu Pucheng’s movements, initially slow, quickly became steady, and Qi Yue’s actions became increasingly fluid as she reached in and extracted the spleen.

“Indeed, it’s a ruptured spleen,” she observed carefully.

Liu Pucheng also leaned over to look.

“Why is the spleen so enlarged?” he couldn’t help asking.

“There’s blood inside,” Qi Yue answered, quickly performing arterial ligation. “Fortunately, Doctor Liu, you gave him hemostatic herbal medicine beforehand, controlling the bleeding. Otherwise, before I could operate, he would have died from hemorrhagic shock.”

Liu Pucheng had no mind for her praise, nodding while keeping his eyes fixed on those skillful hands performing hemostasis and suturing. Scalpels, scissors, and many unknown instruments rapidly alternated. Every step and movement raised questions in Liu Pucheng’s mind, but he knew this wasn’t the time to ask. He just watched carefully while not forgetting his assistance duties.

“Suture cutting also requires attention to many details. The technique can be summarized in four words: close… smooth… oblique… cut… The same applies to daily external wound suturing,” Qi Yue explained simply to Liu Pucheng while working. A’Ru’s previous artificial respiration had shocked her. Though she no longer had those miraculous medicines, she still had extensive modern medical knowledge. Perhaps her casual sharing might prove useful someday and save many lives.

“I need to remove the spleen,” Qi Yue said. “The damage is too extensive—repair is no longer necessary. We don’t have time, and post-operative complications would be even more dangerous.”

She lifted her head and paused.

Hu San had finished vomiting and tremblingly returned to his position.

“I need to inform the family…” Qi Yue said, sweat beading on her forehead. She glanced at the water clock used for timing. “No, there’s no time…”

Organ removal was something that required extensive discussion with family members even in modern hospitals. To explain this to ancient people who had never encountered such procedures would take who knows how much effort.

“Let’s remove it first and explain later,” she murmured, gritting her teeth and lowering her head.

As she spoke, she had already completed pushing back, stretching, rotating, cutting, ligating, plugging with large gauze pads, and clearing tissue—a series of movements—placing the removed spleen on a tray beside her.

Hu San turned away and vomited again.

Liu Pucheng’s face also turned pale. He had been intensely focused and hadn’t heard Qi Yue’s muttering. Suddenly seeing an organ removed, he couldn’t help but shudder.

“Cut… cut out…” he finally couldn’t help but speak.