Sensing his mother’s displeasure, Chang Yuncheng immediately looked over. “Mother, it’s better to clarify some things beforehand.” His tone softened, but his words remained firm.

“I don’t want a person to be beyond saving, which would only sour everyone’s good feelings.” Madam Xie had always sided with her son. Having spoken rashly, she regretted it now and wouldn’t press the matter after hearing his explanation.

“So,” Chang Yuncheng turned back to the Prefect and his wife, “I need Your Excellency and Madam to understand one thing: we will do our utmost to treat your noble son, but his life or death ultimately rests with fate.” These words caused the Prefect and his wife’s expressions to change. “What?” the Prefect exclaimed.

“Are you saying even opening the abdomen might not save him?” This involved informing the patient’s family about the prognosis, something she, as a doctor, should state clearly. “Yes.” Qi Yue nodded, taking up Chang Yuncheng’s point.

“The surgery carries immense risk; I cannot guarantee your noble son will survive.” “The Young Madam is being too modest…” the Prefect managed a strained laugh. “I am not being modest; this is the reality,” Qi Yue stated.

“In truth, the chance of success is less than one in ten.” One in ten! That was practically no hope at all!

The Prefect and his wife looked even more distressed, and the Prefect’s wife collapsed onto the ground. “But that servant girl…” she cried.

“That servant girl is different from your noble son. I will strive to save her, but I cannot guarantee the outcome,” Qi Yue said.

Though her heart ached, the notice of critical condition had to be delivered. “Well, have you decided?

Treatment or not?” Chang Yuncheng pressed. “Let me be clear: all these physicians have already testified that your noble son was beyond saving, destined only to wait for death.

If he is cured, everyone rejoices; if he is not, Your Excellency and Madam must understand that this was his fate.” These words, spoken now, sounded harsh and cruel, causing the expressions of everyone present to freeze. “Yuncheng, mind your tongue!” Marquis Dingxi reprimanded.

“It is best to state the harsh truth upfront, to avoid wasting effort only to become the villain later,” Chang Yuncheng replied, bowing respectfully to his father, his stance unyielding. The Prefect’s wife covered her mouth and wept; the Prefect’s expression shifted violently.

“Master, the anesthetic has worn off,” the eldest disciple called from inside the house. “Try it, or not?” Chang Yuncheng looked at the Prefect.

The Prefect gritted his teeth. “Is there not still a one-in-ten chance?

Proceed with the treatment,” he said in a hoarse voice. “He was already a dying man.

If he is cured, it is the Young Madam’s great kindness; if not, we accept it.” “Good.” Chang Yuncheng raised a hand. “Men!” Accompanied by his words, seven or eight men, dressed as guards, flooded in from outside.

“All unauthorized personnel must leave Marquis Dingxi’s estate. Your Excellency the Prefect, please retire to the guest quarters to await news.

Secure the courtyard; no one enters without the Young Madam’s explicit permission,” Chang Yuncheng stated, hands behind his back. The guards responded in unison.

Qi Yue glanced at Chang Yuncheng. He did not look back at her, instead facing the courtyard.

“Mistress Qi, let us begin,” Liu Pucheng said. Qi Yue nodded, turned, and stepped inside.

As everyone else withdrew from the courtyard, A’Ru and the eldest disciple closed the four doors of the room one by one. Inside, preparations for the surgery were complete.

“Limbs are warm, pulse has strengthened, and the heart sounds are much better,” Qi Yue confirmed after examining with the stethoscope, while fitting the sphygmomanometer and thermometer onto the patient, who was already asleep under anesthesia. “A’Ru, you are responsible for monitoring these readings.

Alert me immediately if any numbers change.” A’Ru, having also donned a gown, mask, and wrapped her head, nodded and took her position by the head of the bed. “Eldest Senior Brother…” Qi Yue looked toward the eldest disciple.

“Young Madam, my name is Zhang Tong…” The disciple quickly bowed, not daring to use the casual address. “Very well, Doctor Zhang.

You will now assist me with the pre-operative disinfection,” Qi Yue instructed, holding up her hands to guide him. Zhang Tong glanced at his master, Liu Pucheng, who nodded to him.

“Follow the Madam’s instructions,” 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 clothing, place the initial drapes, and use the medicinal decoction and strong liquor to wipe the patient’s chest, followed by the placement of sterile sheets and surgical towels. Disinfection, technique, sequence, and boundaries—Qi Yue hadn't performed these tasks for some time, which unexpectedly brought her back to her first surgeries.

“Don’t underestimate the importance of draping; a senior once said that the sterile field reflects the surgeon’s integrity,” Qi Yue chuckled. “When I was first…” She stopped herself there.

“When you were what?” Liu Pucheng inquired. Previously, forgetting to drape correctly had earned her furious scoldings from the chief surgeon, and later, she had scolded quite a few junior nurses herself… Qi Yue laughed and brushed it off vaguely, saying, “Nothing.” Zhang Tong dared not blink, his eyes fixed to imprint every move into memory, handing over different sized sheets precisely as Qi Yue directed.

“Is this what the Madam always emphasizes as disinfection?” Liu Pucheng asked from the side, seeing such detailed steps for the first time. Treating the sick had always been rushed; he had never witnessed such meticulous preparation.

Were all these steps truly necessary? Qi Yue nodded.

“Yes. Minimizing bacterial infection is a crucial step in treating injuries and saving lives,” she explained.

Liu Pucheng nodded, saying he had learned something. “Master, when Master and I started taking on patients later, we tried to do it like the Madam,” Hu San quickly added, unable to suppress a smile.

“Although everyone felt there was no difference in outcome compared to the old way, Master still insisted we do it.” “You will see the difference over time,” Qi Yue said with a smile, offering another slight nod of respect to Liu Pucheng. Who said ancient people were conservative and feudal?

This Doctor Liu, who had never encountered Western medicine a thousand years ago, was so quick to accept new concepts. “Now, we begin.

Doctor Liu, Hu San, you must assist me in achieving hemostasis, ligation, retraction, sponging, retraction, and cutting the sutures,” Qi Yue said, picking up the scalpel and positioning herself before the patient’s exposed surgical field. She looked at Liu Pucheng and Hu San.

“Have you ever seen the internal organs of the human body before?” Hu San shook his head, eyes wide with terror. Liu Pucheng remained silent for a moment before nodding.

“We… sometimes purchase unclaimed corpses…” he murmured. Human dissection existed in ancient times?

“That’s excellent,” Qi Yue sighed in relief. “Then Doctor Liu won't be afraid.” “What is there for a physician to fear?” Liu Pucheng managed a faint smile.

“I’m not afraid either,” Hu San quickly asserted. Qi Yue smiled and let out a breath.

“Good. Then we start,” she said, lowering her head and making a precise incision just beside the center of the patient’s upper left abdomen.

The skin parted. Although mentally prepared, the three people in the room stiffened.

They knew it was a brief procedure, but watching a living person’s abdomen slowly be opened to reveal flesh and blood was another matter entirely. Hu San and Zhang Tong felt a surge of nausea, while A’Ru forced herself not to look over, fixating on the blood pressure monitor.

Liu Pucheng did not shift his gaze at all, watching Qi Yue’s every movement. His astonishment grew with each action; her movements were so practiced, as if she were intimately familiar with the body’s viscera and meridians.

Judging by her technique, Liu Pucheng was certain this woman knew human anatomy intimately, yet she was barely twenty years old. Had she been exposed to dissection since childhood?

Hidden behind this young woman, what kind of master had guided her? When the abdominal cavity was opened, even Liu Pucheng gasped sharply.

Blood—blood everywhere… Hu San spun around and rushed to the corner of the room, vomiting into the spittoon. Zhang Tong, standing by, responsible for monitoring the charcoal stove and boiled liquor, turned ashen.

“The cloth here needs to be soaked in saline… use the dry cloth here…” Qi Yue’s hands moved ceaselessly, and her voice kept directing. 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.

“It is indeed a ruptured spleen,” she observed carefully. Liu Pucheng leaned closer to examine it.

“Why is the spleen so large?” he couldn't help asking. “It’s filled with blood,” Qi Yue replied, her hands swiftly performing arterial ligation.

“Fortunately, Doctor Liu, you administered the hemostatic decoction beforehand; the blood loss was controlled. Otherwise, before I could even operate, the man would have died from hemorrhagic shock.” Liu Pucheng paid no mind to her praise; he nodded, his gaze fixed without wavering on those nimble hands achieving hemostasis and suturing.

The knife, scissors, and several unfamiliar tools were exchanged rapidly. Every step and action registered with Liu Pucheng, but he knew this was not the time for questions; he watched intently while diligently performing his required assistance.

“Even cutting the suture thread requires attention; the required technique can be summarized in four characters: smooth… slant… cut… This applies to suturing everyday wounds as well,” Qi Yue explained simply to Liu Pucheng while working. The incident with A’Ru performing mouth-to-mouth resuscitation on her had shaken her.

Although she lacked those miraculous elixirs, she possessed a wealth of modern medical knowledge. Perhaps if she casually shared some of it, it might prove useful one day, potentially saving many lives.

“I need to excise the spleen,” Qi Yue announced. “The wound surface is too large; repair is unnecessary, and there isn't enough time.

The risk of subsequent complications is too high.” She paused her work and looked up. By this time, Hu San had finished vomiting and wobblingly returned, bracing himself with clenched teeth.

“I need to inform the family,” Qi Yue said, beads of sweat dotting her forehead. She glanced at the water clock used for timing.

“No, there isn't time…” Excising an internal organ, even in a modern hospital, required thorough communication with the family. Explaining this to people of this era, who had never encountered such a procedure, would take an incalculable amount of effort.

“Fear first, then explanation,” she muttered, gritting her teeth and lowering her head. She spoke these words while having already completed retracting, stretching, rotating, severing the ligature, clamping with large gauze pads, and cleaning the tissues, placing the excised spleen on a nearby tray.

Hu San turned and went back to retching. Liu Pucheng’s face was also pale.

His concentration had been absolute, so he hadn’t heard Qi Yue’s muttering. Seeing an internal organ detached suddenly made him tremble.

“C-cut… cut off…” He finally couldn't restrain his voice.