As Zhang Yang moved toward the operating room doors, the doctor froze for a second, immediately stepping forward to block him. “You can’t go in, this is a…” He didn't finish speaking before his body involuntarily jerked aside; there was simply no way for him, alone, to stop Zhang Yang.

But he remembered his duty, and began shouting loudly. Forcing his way into the operating room was certainly against all protocol, but at this moment, Zhang Yang couldn't afford to care.

Lives were at stake, and he had to act now. He had just carefully scanned the situation inside; one person’s life force was rapidly diminishing.

The one whose life force was fading was, naturally, Mi Lan; she was the only patient in the surgical theater. Besides the patient, there were several doctors and nurses inside, standing around chatting, seemingly unaware of anything else.

And Mi Lan lay on the operating table, her head already covered with a white sheet. They were talking while the patient wasn't even dead yet.

Seeing this made Zhang Yang’s gut clench with near-fatal rage. Although Mi Lan’s life force was declining, she still exhibited all vital signs.

The surgery had gone wrong, failed, and instead of trying to salvage the situation, the doctors were casually conversing. This wasn't just dereliction of duty; it was a crime, it was murder.

“Who are you? What are you doing?

How did you get in here?” One doctor finally snapped out of his stupor and stepped forward, demanding loudly. Besides Zhang Yang, Mi Xue and Zhang Jing, the father and daughter, had followed him in, along with Long Feng and a few others.

The doctor who spoke was the oldest one present and the lead surgeon for the day; Zhang Yang had met him before. “Shut up!” A cold glint flashed in Zhang Yang’s eyes as he glared icily at the doctor.

Under that single, sharp look, the doctor instantly felt his entire body stiffen. A wave of icy dread shot from his feet straight to his scalp, nearly causing him to faint on the spot.

Zhang Yang was genuinely furious now—doctors this irresponsible were rare, even in his previous life. “Mom!” Seeing the figure covered by the white sheet on the table, Zhang Jing let out a cry of grief and tried to rush over.

Luckily, Mi Xue grabbed her. Mi Xue was also looking at Zhang Yang with deep worry; she didn't know the specifics, but since Zhang Yang had entered, she could only place her hope entirely on him.

“You few, come with me. Long Feng, escort the others out first!” Zhang Yang issued a soft command to the nurses who remained, then turned to Long Feng.

This was, after all, an operating room, and it wasn't suitable for so many people. Long Feng nodded, leading Mi Xue and Zhang Jing and the others away.

At that moment, he didn’t overthink it; even if the other doctors had declared the person dead, as long as Zhang Yang was present and willing to act, the person could certainly be saved. Long Feng held a kind of blind trust in Zhang Yang.

The other doctors, aside from Zhang Jing’s party, were also ushered out by Long Feng; they had no choice but to comply, as they couldn't possibly stay with Long Feng present. The doctors who were forced out continued to shout and protest outside, eventually irritating Long Feng enough that he knocked them all unconscious, one by one.

Long Feng had witnessed everything happening inside the operating room and understood that those doctors had clearly not been taking their responsibilities seriously. Until Zhang Yang emerged, he wasn't letting these individuals leave; knocking them out seemed the most appropriate course of action.

Inside the operating room, Zhang Yang had reached Mi Lan’s side. The few nurses he had called to stay had, for some unknown reason, followed him over.

They kept glancing at each other, exchanging bewildered looks. He checked her pulse—it was incredibly faint, nearly vanished.

But thankfully, nearly vanished was not completely gone. Mi Lan was hovering on the brink of death but had not truly passed away; if she had, it would be useless for Zhang Yang, or even the Great Divine Immortal himself, to intervene.

Without any further hesitation, Zhang Yang retrieved his acupuncture kit and drove more than a dozen silver needles deep into Mi Lan’s critical pressure points. Each needle carried a charge of his internal energy.

The silver needles vibrated with a low hum. The nurses Zhang Yang had asked to stay widened their eyes in shock.

They knew acupuncture, but they had never imagined it being used to treat someone on the verge of death, much less in an operating room. This was the territory of Western medicine; where was this Traditional Chinese Medicine coming from?

The nurses shook their heads, but their eyes immediately widened again as instruments left attached to the patient began to display faint readings. These readings indicated that the patient was stirring back to life.

Looking down at Mi Lan, the coldness emanating from Zhang Yang intensified slightly. He finally understood exactly what had transpired.

What should have been a minor cleaning procedure had gone terribly wrong because the responsible doctor made a critical error, failing to clean properly and instead rupturing a major vessel, leading to this catastrophic outcome. This was blatant malpractice, and yet that doctor had the gall to stand there chatting in the operating theater.

This accident had severely worsened Mi Lan's condition, making even Zhang Yang's task somewhat difficult now. After a moment of consideration, Zhang Yang let out a quiet sigh and pulled a jade vial from his person.

This accident would have a profound, lasting impact on Mi Lan's body. The recent loss of life force meant she had lost a massive amount of vital energy (Yuan Qi).

Zhang Yang was confident he could repair the immediate damage and save her life, but because of the trauma, her constitution would be permanently weakened afterward, causing her to fall ill frequently with slow recoveries. In essence, she would face numerous troublesome, long-term sequelae.

Under these circumstances, restoring her fully to her previous state required the aid of a spiritual medicine; only a Ling Yao possessed the power to bring the near-dead back to life and regrow flesh on bone. Strictly speaking, Mi Lan moments ago was functionally a dead person.

He took out a Ginseng Pill (Shen Wan) and unhesitatingly placed it into Mi Lan’s mouth. The Ginseng Pill was the best for replenishing Yuan Qi, and this thousand-year variety was the most suitable spiritual medicine for Mi Lan’s current condition.

When Zhang Yang produced the pill, the nurses in the operating room felt a surge of revitalization. The unique, pure fragrance of the spiritual medicine conveyed its extraordinary nature to them.

Sadly, this scent vanished quickly. Watching Mi Lan swallow the small pill, a trace of envy actually appeared on the faces of the nurses, though they couldn't explain why.

“Get me gowned!” After giving each needle another slight adjustment, Zhang Yang issued another calm instruction. Immediately, a nurse helped him change into surgical attire.

Once robed, Zhang Yang's entire demeanor shifted. At least in the eyes of the nurses, Zhang Yang transformed into a doctor—one possessing an aura superior to the others, an indescribable presence.

Standing before the operating table, Zhang Yang resumed the unfinished surgery. The nurses asked no questions; instead, they stood by his side, waiting for his next instruction, behaving as if he were a colleague they had worked alongside for years.

This fact astonished even themselves. As the procedure progressed, Mi Lan’s vital signs began to recover rapidly, and all data points stabilized near normal levels.

This amazed them even further. Even if the original surgery had been successful, a patient could not recover this quickly; in their view, this was nothing short of a miracle.

What they didn't know was that the spiritual medicine was responsible for this swift turnaround. Half an hour later, Zhang Yang exhaled deeply.

He had personally repaired Mi Lan’s surgery. After taking the spiritual medicine and his intervention, she only needed a few days of rest to make a full recovery.

He had snatched Mi Lan back from the edge of death. “Send the patient directly to her room,” Zhang Yang quietly instructed the nurse beside him after tidying up.

The nurse nodded silently and began preparing to move Mi Lan, asking no questions. During the operation, Zhang Yang had stunned them again.

These were veteran nurses, having assisted in countless procedures—if not a thousand, then certainly hundreds. A shared thought formed among them: of all the doctors they had observed, none could match this young man’s scalpel work and surgical skill.

This young man, barely in his early twenties, gave them the impression of a sixty-year-old expert or professor during the surgery. No, he surpassed those experts and professors; the Professor Wang who had performed the initial operation was clearly inferior.

“Clang!” The operating room door opened again. This time, Zhang Yang was the first to step out.

The moment he emerged, his brow twitched involuntarily. A large crowd had gathered outside the operating room, and even the police had arrived.

He had known about the throng outside while operating; he simply hadn't had the bandwidth to deal with it then. With Long Feng stationed outside, no one could have possibly disturbed his work.

With Long Feng guarding the door, intruders couldn't get in. “Zhang Yang, how is my aunt?” Seeing Zhang Yang, Mi Xue, who had been waiting anxiously, immediately rushed over and urgently inquired.

“She’s fine. A few days of rest, and she’ll be completely recovered!” Zhang Yang smiled faintly.

With the spiritual medicine administered and his personal involvement, if the patient still ran into trouble, he wouldn't deserve to be called a descendant of the Medical Saint lineage. “Fine?

I knew it! I knew you’d find a way!” A genuine smile finally appeared on Mi Xue’s face.

She had been comforting Zhang Jing, but in doing so, she herself had been filled with apprehension. The person inside was her own aunt, her family.

To say she wasn't worried would be a lie. “Brother-in-law, is my mom really okay?” Zhang Jing also ran over, her eyes still red and tear-streaked, evidence of her prolonged weeping.

“She is truly alright!” Zhang Yang nodded again. “Please make way!” Soon, the nurses pushed the still unconscious Mi Lan out.

Mi Lan had an IV drip attached, but even lying down, it was clear she was stable; her complexion even held a slight flush, unlike someone who had just undergone major surgery. Zhang Jing immediately rushed to her mother, touching her gently, feeling her warmth, and fresh tears streamed down her face.

It was already late at night. After worrying for so long, they finally heard good news.

Zhang Chenggong, standing nearby, a grown man whose eyes were also red, finally couldn't hold back his tears upon seeing his beloved wife safe. He crouched down and began sobbing, but this weeping was not born of sorrow, but of release—the tension held in his heart for so long demanded an outlet.

RQ