Lighting a lamp, they found the wet nurse unconscious. A quick touch to her head revealed a terrifying fever. They immediately rose to summon a physician. By the time the fuss settled and the doctor arrived, dawn was nearly breaking.
It was the same physician who came before. After checking her pulse and observing her tongue and complexion—both ominous signs—he instructed a maid to roll up her thin blanket. Upon seeing her lower leg, a startling expanse of crimson marred the skin, dotted with frightening blisters.
Everyone in the room recoiled a few steps in shock.
“Doctor, what has happened to my mother?” asked the wet nurse’s son, who also worked within the magistrate’s residence, his voice frantic.
How could she have been fine yesterday, only to be on the brink of death after sleeping for half the night?
The doctor sighed.
“This is a critical case of toxic festering sores. Only one in ten such cases can be encountered,” he stated. “It seems your mother has become that one in ten…”
Did that sound rare, somehow?
The onlookers quickly spat, shaking their heads, wanting no part of such a grim rarity!
“Doctor, please save her quickly,” the wet nurse’s son pleaded desperately, wishing he could drop to his knees.
“I will prescribe an infusion to clear pestilence and dispel toxins. If the fever subsides by noon, there is still a sliver of hope. If not, it is best to start making preparations,” the doctor said, already taking up his brush to write the prescription.
Prepare for the aftermath? Everyone in the room was stunned speechless.
Soon, everyone in the manor knew. Such a patient was considered inauspicious. The Magistrate’s wife naturally did not visit, but she ordered her regular physician, Doctor Zhang, to be called. Doctor Zhang gave the same grim prognosis.
The wet nurse's family fell into despair, weeping uncontrollably. The compassionate Magistrate’s wife, unable to bear witnessing such illness and death, shed a few tears herself and commanded that a generous sum be given to handle the funeral arrangements properly.
“However…” Doctor Zhang paused as he packed his medical kit to leave, unable to resist turning back. “At the Hall of a Thousand Gold, there might be a chance to try and save her.”
The Hall of a Thousand Gold?
The Magistrate’s wife was momentarily stunned.
“How is that possible? Doctor Zhang, you already said she cannot be saved,” she said, shaking her head.
Doctor Zhang offered a slight smile.
“Every physician has their specialties; I dare not claim superiority or inferiority. But the Hall of a Thousand Gold is known for some rare, extraordinary remedies, perhaps capable of curing ailments others cannot resolve,” he said humbly.
The Magistrate’s wife fell silent.
The wet nurse’s family looked at her with a trace of pleading in their eyes.
“It is best to prepare early, allowing her soul to find peace sooner,” the Magistrate’s wife finally stated.
Even if the doctor suggested the Hall of a Thousand Gold as a last resort, why would she risk offending the Marquis of Dingxi's estate for a mere servant?
The wet nurse’s family clearly understood her hesitation. They tearfully carried her out.
Before the sun had fully set, they returned to their humble home in the alley behind the magistrate’s residence. The family sat frozen in grief, watching the wet nurse whose breath was growing shallow and sporadic.
“I don’t care anymore,” the wet nurse’s son suddenly stood up. “I am taking Mother to the Hall of a Thousand Gold!”
His wife looked at him in astonishment.
“But, Madam said not to associate with the Hall of a Thousand Gold…” she stammered out.
The wet nurse’s son raised his hand and struck her across the face.
“You wicked woman! That is my mother! She is my only mother! My father died young, and my mother suffered so much for me! And you, because of a word from the Madam, would watch my mother die!” he roared in anger.
His wife certainly hadn’t meant it that way, and she burst into fresh tears while trying to explain.
“Stop arguing. If you are going, go quickly,” advised a neighbor who had come to help.
At the Hall of a Thousand Gold, preparations for closing were underway. Everyone’s spirits were somewhat low due to Qi Yue being refused consultation earlier.
“Old Doctor An from the Shan Ning Prefecture has long wished to invite you over. Perhaps…” Liu Pucheng suggested.
His words were cut off by Qi Yue.
“Teacher, you don't need to say anything more. I just have a stubborn streak: I can’t stand being provoked. If this incident hadn't happened, I might have truly gone to Old Doctor An’s place; I was already considering learning from him,” Qi Yue said, tapping the desk. “But now that this has happened, I absolutely will not leave. I will stay right here, and I dare them to try anything against me.”
This girl was indeed headstrong…
“Don’t you think it’s better not to antagonize them…” Liu Pucheng shook his head.
“It is absolutely worth antagonizing them,” Qi Yue snorted.
As they were talking, an emergency call came from outside the door.
“Doctor, save my life!” The wet nurse’s son, though unfamiliar with the specific 'Mistress Qi,' knew this only female doctor was the one at the Hall of a Thousand Gold, so he knelt down the moment he saw a woman.
“Don’t rush, speak slowly,” A’ru hurried to help him up. “How old is the patient, and what are the symptoms?”
The wet nurse’s son hurriedly explained, and Qi Yue also emerged.
“What is it?” she asked.
A’ru concisely relayed the patient's condition.
Qi Yue approached in a few strides, donned her gloves, and looked at the woman who was already dressed in burial clothes.
Only then did the wet nurse’s son realize this was Mistress Qi, and he knelt again, bowing his head deeply.
“Is the lesion on the leg?” she asked, picking up scissors and swiftly cutting away the trouser leg, revealing the swollen, angry calf.
Blast it, Qi Yue’s expression darkened slightly. If it weren't for the need for doctors not to show excessive emotion, she would have shouted out loud.
But even this subtle change in expression was enough to make everyone's heart sink.
After a series of examinations, Qi Yue was quite certain.
“Sepsis!” she declared, frowning. “This is caused by a wound infection…”
She examined the swollen redness on the woman’s leg with a gloved hand.
“Cut with a blade?” she murmured. “No proper sterilization, leading to bacterial infection and septicemia…”
“Cut with a blade?” The wet nurse’s son immediately jumped up. “It was that accursed doctor who cut the sore on my mother… I’ll make him pay with his life!”
Qi Yue quickly stopped him.
“He meant well, it wasn't intentional. What are you going to do by seeking him out?” she ordered sternly.
The wet nurse’s son immediately knelt down again.
“Mistress Qi, please save her life,” he cried, bowing his head.
“This condition is aggressive, and finding broad-spectrum antibiotics…” Qi Yue reached up to touch her neck, her face anxious. “I will try my best.”
The other doctors wouldn't even attempt a trial; the fact that Mistress Qi was willing to try proved they had come to the right place.
The family members bowed repeatedly.
“Take the family to process admission,” Qi Yue instructed. “Move the bed, implement physical cooling, manage for shock, and prepare for debridement and drainage surgery.”
The disciples in the main hall responded in unison with a clear "Yes."
Watching the woman swiftly wrapped in a sheet, lifted by four people chanting "one, two, three," and moved onto a stretcher—which was then wheeled toward the back—the entire process was simple, efficient, and flowing, even somewhat pleasing to the eye…
The wet nurse’s son spat, wondering what foolish thoughts he was having. His mother was dying; how could anything be pleasing to the eye!
“What is your name?” a disciple stood before him and asked.
The wet nurse’s son was startled. Finally, they were going to ask who he was…
“I, I…” he stammered, too afraid to speak.
He knew that Mistress Qi had been driven out by the Magistrate’s wife that morning. If he admitted that the patient was from the magistrate’s residence…
“Don’t be afraid. I am here to handle the hospitalization procedures for your mother. Hospitalization means that because the patient is in critical condition, she must stay here so the doctor can monitor her and administer medication at any time,” the disciple explained earnestly.
The wet nurse’s son wasn't concerned about that; he was afraid they would turn him away once they discovered his connection to the magistrate’s household. He timidly followed the disciple to complete the admission paperwork.
As dusk settled, the operating theater at the Hall of a Thousand Gold was brightly lit. The reflective copper mirrors designed for the operating table were finally put to use. After several adjustments, they were aimed at the woman’s lower leg, allowing Qi Yue a clear view of the wound.
“Local anesthesia complete,” Liu Pucheng announced, stepping back.
Compared to the bloody operation last time, this one was much simpler. Qi Yue completed the debridement and drainage without needing assistance from anyone else.
“That other doctor meant well; the incision was necessary for drainage. It’s just that he failed to ensure proper sterilization, anti-inflammation, and antibiotic care, which resulted in this fatal situation. That’s why I repeatedly emphasize to everyone the need to maintain strict sterilization beforehand and anti-inflammatory care afterward…” Qi Yue spoke while her hands worked continuously, using forceps to clean the incised abscess with sterilized cloth, inserting drainage strips, performing simple sutures, and finally sterilizing, disinfecting, wiping, and covering the wound with a white cloth.
Watching the patient being wheeled out of the operating room, Qi Yue took a deep breath.
“Thank you, Doctor…” The family gathered around, looking at the woman who appeared much better after the physical cooling. They were overflowing with gratitude. “The Doctor is truly a divine healer; she cured her so quickly…”
Qi Yue shook her head with a wry smile.
Cure sepsis that quickly? Then she truly would be an immortal.
“It is not yet time to thank me,” she stopped the excited family members, her expression solemn behind the large mask. “Whether she lives or dies is still unknown.”
That night, the woman was placed under intensive care. Without a thermometer to accurately gauge her temperature, Qi Yue had to rely on her sense of touch to record readings repeatedly. Fearing discrepancies between individuals, she couldn't switch shifts and thus labored through the entire night.
At dawn, Liu Pucheng requested to take over.
“No need for a replacement,” Qi Yue replied, her eyes bloodshot and weary as she looked at the woman still unconscious in the bed. “The infection has not been brought under control.”
Liu Pucheng stepped forward to check her pulse, examine her mouth and tongue, and then looked at the lower leg, where the site of debridement and drainage was now even more swollen. He sighed, his face grave.
This was far more severe than the hunter's case from last time.
“To prevent the infection from spreading, there is only one course of action left,” Qi Yue stated.
Liu Pucheng looked at her.
“Amputation,” Qi Yue said decisively.
Liu Pucheng’s expression wavered with shock.
“Under these conditions, what are the chances of survival after amputation?” he asked.
Qi Yue took a deep breath.
“I don’t know,” she admitted.
Liu Pucheng fell silent again.
“Summon the family,” he finally said.
The wet nurse’s son and his wife were called in, trembling. Upon hearing Qi Yue’s words, they instantly froze.
“Mistress Qi, you were driven out, and we truly have no recourse. We are servants; we cannot disobey our masters,” the wet nurse’s son immediately knelt before Qi Yue, weeping.
His words confused Qi Yue, and it took her a while to ascertain the situation.
“Oh, so the patient from the magistrate’s residence is your mother,” she said, helping the wet nurse’s son up. “I truly didn’t do this because of that. If you don’t believe me, you can ask any other doctor. She is indeed critically ill.”
The wet nurse’s son wiped away his tears.
“If you are unwilling, I will respect your choice,” Qi Yue said. “Because even with amputation, I cannot guarantee she will live.”
The wet nurse’s son looked utterly lost.
“Ban’er, stop pretending to be reluctant when you’ve already been given a massive advantage,” the elderly neighbor who had come along stomped his foot. “Don’t forget your mother was already dressed for burial! Doctor Qi dragged her back from the very gates of the King of Hell; what more do you want?”
This comment brought the wet nurse’s son back to reality.
“Doctor, I will listen to you. My mother was already deemed incurable. If she lives, it is your divine skill; if she dies, it is simply her fate,” he said, gritting his teeth, and knelt down, bowing his head repeatedly. “Please make the decision, Doctor.”
Qi Yue nodded and said, “Very well.”
“I will perform this amputation surgery,” Liu Pucheng stated.
Qi Yue paused in surprise.
“Teacher, you know how to do this?” she couldn't help but ask.
Liu Pucheng smiled.
“Don’t forget, I founded the Hall of a Thousand Gold,” he said. “And my primary study under my master was in trauma and orthopedics. Amputation and limb removal are not difficult for me.”
Saying that, he looked toward the disciples inside the room.
“Now, prepare for amputation surgery. The objective of the surgery is to remove the source of infection,” he said, imitating Qi Yue’s formal style.
The disciples responded loudly with a resounding “Yes.”
If the plot isn't interesting enough, please give us a vote! (T_T) Please show some favor, dear readers! RS