Chapter Twelve (12 Points) A second update—don't expect logic from a transmigration novel.

Furthermore, I've gone through countless transmigration doctor novels, manga, TV shows, and even stories about doctors during the War of Resistance.

Despite meticulously checking every data point, the story, in the end, is just a story.

If you truly cannot abide this, please click the 'X' in the upper right corner.

“Can you stitch him up now?” The big, dark-skinned man couldn't help but ask again, glancing at the strange things in Qi Yue's hands, and then at Hu San, who was over there, his arm aching and sweating, yet too terrified to move an inch—it was sheer torture.

“Yes, the next step is possible, but before that, I need to prepare blood.” Qi Yue replied, her gaze fixed on the medical kit before her.

The dark man could clearly hear her murmur a string of incomprehensible words: “…This fellow is of blood type… Oh, excellent… This emergency kit, compliant with the EU DIN3155 standard, is indeed fully equipped.

No wonder they boasted so much, claiming it was a complete medical emergency station… They even have an AB blood type rapid test card… Come, come…” “This… is this?” The eldest disciple couldn't help but ask, seeing her hold a strange piece of paper—it looked like paper, something he had never encountered before.

Qi Yue took a drop of blood from the injured man and carefully observed the changes on the test strip.

“This, young sir, is used to distinguish a person’s blood type,” she explained.

“Blood type? What is that?” The eldest disciple, instead of being enlightened, grew even more confused.

“Blood type is… well, it means the blood of different people is different.

Uh… It’s done.” Qi Yue said, sounding muffled through her mask, slightly troubled, “…'A'…” Then she stopped, her eyes sweeping across the people in the hall.

“So now, this injured man needs blood.

Who will offer their blood to him?” she asked.

“? Blood? Give his blood to him?” “Madam, what precisely are you suggesting?” A loud commotion erupted among the assembled crowd.

“It means this man has lost too much blood; excessive blood loss can lead to death, correct?” Qi Yue stated.

Everyone in the hall nodded; even a fool would agree.

“So, he needs his blood replenished, meaning we must give him some blood from someone else.

That way, he won't die from bleeding out,” Qi Yue continued.

“So, who wants to try first, to see if their blood is compatible, so we can give some to the injured?” “Heavens! Giving him blood? Wouldn’t that kill the donor?” someone shouted.

“Give his blood to him?” another questioned.

These words instantly threw the hall into chaos, everyone exchanging frightened glances and murmuring amongst themselves.

“I will,” the big, dark-skinned man declared loudly, stepping forward without hesitation.

“My life is mine! Give my life to him!” Although Qi Yue was addressing everyone, her gaze was fixed on the heir of Dingxi Marquis standing to the side.

The heir of Dingxi Marquis’s gaze met hers, and a faint smile touched his lips.

“I will,” he said, stepping forward.

Seeing him speak up and volunteer, many people’s expressions turned to shock.

“My Lord, you must not.” They stepped forward to stop him, and soon more people followed, scrambling to offer their own blood.

They certainly looked courageous and spirited, unafraid of the danger.

Qi Yue felt a slight easing of her temper.

“It’s not about giving your life; it’s just about giving a small amount of blood.

And not everyone’s blood will suffice.

I need to check if the donor's blood matches the injured man’s,” she said, picking up a clean needle from the box.

“Check?” the heir of Dingxi Marquis asked, having already approached Qi Yue and looking down at her from above.

“Extend your hand,” Qi Yue instructed.

The heir of Dingxi Marquis extended his hand without hesitation, amidst a chorus of admonishments from those around him.

This hand isn't as well-kept as his face; it’s a bit rough, and his palm has calluses… Qi Yue thought to herself as she reached out and took his hand.

The people nearby widened their eyes; some even turned away awkwardly.

In full view of everyone, was this woman about to commit… The heir of Dingxi Marquis stiffened when this woman's hand suddenly grasped his; instinctively, he wanted to pull back, but Qi Yue had already wiped his fingertip with a cotton ball.

“Don’t be afraid of the pain,” Qi Yue said.

The heir of Dingxi Marquis let out an internal scoff.

Before he could react, a sharp prick brought a momentary tightening to his body, and Qi Yue had already drawn the blood and released him.

“Doctor, mine!” Immediately, many people thrust their hands forward.

“Wait, one by one,” Qi Yue said, looking at the test strip in her hand, a slow smile of pleasant surprise spreading across her face.

She looked up at the heir of Dingxi Marquis.

“Hey, what great luck—yours is a perfect match.” Her face was covered by the mask, so her smile was invisible, but the joy in her eyes was clearly perceived by the heir.

This statement stunned the onlookers for a moment before chaos erupted again.

“He cannot! He absolutely cannot!” they shouted en masse.

“So, mine is suitable, and you are quite pleased,” the heir of Dingxi Marquis waved his hand to silence the uproar and laughed heartily, looking at Qi Yue.

Qi Yue, whose thoughts had been divined, felt a momentary discomfort.

If you wound someone, you naturally deserve some punishment… “Doctor, please don’t be absurd,” another man stepped forward, placing a hand on the heir’s shoulder.

“You shouldn't be absurd either.” “Who is being absurd?” Qi Yue and the heir of Dingxi Marquis spoke simultaneously, then paused, looking at each other with slight surprise.

“I already said, he won’t die.

It’s just a little bit of blood,” Qi Yue said, averting her gaze.

She rinsed the used needle in wine, tossed it into the nearby charcoal fire, and picked up another one.

“Everyone only needs to contribute a little; it will be enough for him.

Come, who is next to try?” Hearing this, everyone breathed a sigh of relief, and more people eagerly extended their hands.

It wasn't long before the injured man proved lucky: there were four people present whose blood types were compatible.

Although the heir of Dingxi Marquis was genuinely prepared to donate, he was repeatedly dissuaded by the crowd, as such a procedure was unheard of, despite the precedent of the healed child.

The rubber tube intended for IV infusion was brought into use again.

The donor lay on a table, the injured man on a plank bed on the floor.

Two needles, one rubber tube—this was the scene of Qi Yue’s very first blood transfusion in ancient times.

It was so crude and against all protocol that even she found it hard to watch.

But for everyone present, their eyes were wide open, fixed on the spectacle: watching blood flow from one body into another, and the man who was clearly fading away gradually regaining consciousness.

“Am I dead?” The injured man slowly opened his eyes and murmured softly.

“You’re not dead! With your big brother here, no one can make you die,” the dark-skinned man was the first to rush over, thrusting his large face in front of the injured man and shouting with his booming voice.

A faint smile appeared on the injured man’s face.

“With big brother's loud voice, even the King of Hell would be scared off…” he whispered weakly.

This man has a sense of humor; he’s mentally sharp, Qi Yue noted to herself from the side.

“Let me check his blood pressure,” she said, walking over with the blood pressure monitor.

The injured man finally noticed the strangely dressed person whose eyes were the only visible feature, looking at her with confusion.

“This is a highly skilled doctor the Young Master specially invited from home…” the dark man quickly explained.

He knew nothing of the relationship between Qi Yue and the Young Master, and Ah Ru, having been terrified out of her wits when she saw the Young Master, dared not utter Qi Yue’s true identity.

“Thank you, Young Master.

Jiang Hai has no way to repay you…” The injured man struggled to sit up, only then noticing the strange setup on his body.

“What… what is this?” He looked at the strange marks on both arms, then followed the tube to see the other person… “Young Master, our blood types are the same…” the donor grinned, his face flushed with pride and a sense of shared accomplishment.

“You lost too much blood; this is replenishing it,” Qi Yue smiled, watching the injured man’s face turn pale, clearly quite frightened by the scene.

“Don’t move, let… let…” The heir of Dingxi Marquis, who had taken a few steps, spoke up, finally vaguely skipping over Qi Yue’s address.

“Let us treat your wounds so you can recover quickly and seek justice.” The injured man nodded with deep gratitude, just as Qi Yue finished measuring the blood pressure.

“We can proceed with the surgical stitching,” she sighed, noting that the shock phase—whether due to the rudimentary equipment or the traditional medicine she had administered—was successfully overcome.

Counting from her first day of internship until before her transmigration, she had performed countless treatments and diagnoses like this, but this one brought the strongest sense of accomplishment.

“Ah Ru, lay out the drapes,” she commanded, walking over to the medicine chest and scanning the familiar instruments one by one.

Suddenly, her expression shifted drastically.

“Damn it!” Her words startled everyone.

“Missing… something?” Ah Ru, who had just picked up the white surgical cloth, asked anxiously.

Qi Yue picked up vials one after another, sweat beginning to bead on her forehead.

“Gone… all gone…” she murmured.

“Gone?” the heir of Dingxi Marquis, standing nearby, inquired.

“The anesthetics… all of them, local and general… they’re all used up…” Qi Yue answered faintly.

She knew this day would come.

Anesthetics were just the beginning… Qi Yue’s gaze swept across the medical kit, a wry smile appearing on her face.

She had brought an emergency kit; it couldn't sustain this for long.

It was an emergency kit she had temporarily overstocked, even more complete than what a normal emergency room would have.

But even so, gloves, needles, and other items that weren't disposable had been sterilized by boiling and sun-drying for reuse.

However, some things were impossible to reuse: anesthetics, antibiotics, iodine swabs, disinfectant tablets, sutures… “Fetch them,” the heir of Dingxi Marquis said casually, raising his hand to summon an attendant.

Qi Yue shook her head.

“They’re gone,” she stated, looking dejected.

“Gone?” The heir of Dingxi Marquis frowned, unable to fully grasp her meaning.

“I cannot perform this surgery,” Qi Yue declared, dropping the instrument in her hand with a sharp clatter.

The hall erupted in an uproar.

“What did you say?” “You can’t do it?” The stage was set, the drums had started beating—the main performer was about to take the stage—and suddenly the voice was gone.

One could imagine the audience's fury.

“Doctor, are you still angry that we injured this man?” the dark-skinned man shouted loudly, his face reddening, and with a clang, he drew the saber tucked at his waist.

The surrounding people scattered in shock.

“Don’t strike her! Strike me instead!” Hu San forgot about applying pressure to the artery and immediately knelt before the big man.

“Let me chop off my arm to apologize to him!” The dark-faced man did not aim his saber at Qi Yue; instead, he held it across his own arm, shouting with bloodshot eyes.

Accompanying his action, more people drew their swords or blades.

“I will!” They cried out in turn.

The Qianjin Hall instantly devolved into pandemonium.

(To be continued.

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