“But he was clearly alive, how could he suddenly fail again?” Physician Zhou asked, puzzled, still examining the deceased.

Throughout Qi Yue’s operation, he had observed the patient’s reactions, pulse, and heartbeat with serious excitement, so he was very clear and certain about the man's condition.

He had obviously passed the threshold of death, so how could he suddenly... so quickly that he didn’t even have time to intervene, and saving him, even if he tried, he wouldn't know how.

This was the first time he had encountered such a situation... in fact, today was filled with situations he was encountering for the first time.

He thought there were no more medical cases in the world that could surprise or interest him, but unexpectedly... the saying that learning is endless was indeed true.

“Is this what you meant, that blood cannot just be transfused? That indiscriminately transfusing blood won’t save people but will actually kill them?” Liu Pucheng inquired.

Qi Yue nodded, her face pale, showing signs of collapse, as A'ru carefully supported her.

“Don’t be sad, we did our best,” Liu Pucheng said gently.

Qi Yue remained silent, clearly emotionally affected.

“Sad about what?” Physician Zhou overheard and frowned. “He was supposed to die from the start; it’s already incredible that he lasted this long.”

Even though he said this, the atmosphere in the courtyard remained somewhat heavy.

Since Qi Yue’s arrival, they had become accustomed to bringing people back from the brink of death, seemingly forgetting that illness is unpredictable and life and death uncertain.

Qi Yue raised her head, regaining her composure.

“Alright, alright, this one is done. Let’s focus on the other person. Send the patient from the surgery back to the Hall of a Thousand Beauties for intensive care,” she said, taking a deep breath.

Liu Pucheng nodded.

“I’ll go inform the deceased’s family,” Qi Yue added.

A disciple, hearing this, hurried forward.

“Master, let us handle these matters…” they began.

Liu Pucheng stopped them, shaking his head.

“One must cross their own hurdles,” he murmured.

Physician Zhou had finished examining the body, wearing a look of slight displeasure.

“Why the long faces? This man wasn’t going to survive anyway; you didn’t kill him,” he frowned. “Why do you all look like this?”

“It’s not about the patient; we understand that life and death are fated, and we do our utmost according to Heaven’s will, but…” Liu Pucheng spoke, then turned to look at Physician Zhou, suddenly freezing, “Wait? You, you are Senior Zhou?”

Physician Zhou also paused in surprise.

The scene had been tense earlier, with everyone busy; no one had taken the time to properly observe who else was present.

“You, Little Liu Zi,” he exclaimed in return, astonished.

Liu Pucheng immediately bowed to him in deference; though their ages were similar, seniority dictated the etiquette.

“So you ended up here. I thought you were wandering the world,” Physician Zhou laughed, reaching out to clap his shoulder.

However, this was hardly the time for reminiscing. Physician Zhou pressed for an explanation.

“It’s just that Madam Qi might not be accustomed to this,” Liu Pucheng replied, noting that although he didn't know about her past, in the time he’d known her, Qi Yue had never failed.

“Not accustomed? Not accustomed to birth, old age, sickness, and death? Then why be a doctor! Did she think she was an immortal?” Physician Zhou chuckled, frowning.

But with techniques like that, perhaps she wasn't far from being one…

Qi Yue had already reached the doorway. Beside her stood A'ru, and Chang Yuncheng had also come over.

Seeing her emerge, the crowd gathered outside immediately surged forward.

“How is it?” Old Madam Xie rushed forward first to ask.

“The surgery was a success; the hawthorn berry lodged in her throat has been removed,” Qi Yue told her. “If she successfully navigates the critical period post-surgery, she should be fine.”

Old Madam Xie let out a wail and collapsed into the arms of her maids.

If everyone hadn't clearly heard Qi Yue’s words, they would have assumed it was bad news.

“Then, what about my father?” The young woman stepped forward, her expression anxious and fearful.

Qi Yue looked at her and bowed her head slightly.

“I am sorry,” she said. “Your father lost too much blood. I couldn't find a compatible blood type, and the final transfusion resulted in a hemolytic reaction, so…”

The young woman understood none of what she said.

“Just tell me what happened!” she urged anxiously.

“He died,” Qi Yue stated, looking up at her. “He lost too much blood, and it was beyond my ability to save him.”

Silence fell over the surroundings, broken only by the crackling sound of torches in the night wind.

“Died?” the young woman murmured, looking at Qi Yue, seemingly unable to believe it. “Died?”

Qi Yue nodded.

“He is dead,” she repeated, lowering her head again. “I am sorry.”

Dead! The young woman’s lips twisted into a smile that looked unnervingly strange.

She abruptly spun around.

“Mother, Grandmother, Father is dead!” she cried out, her voice trembling, as if she were laughing.

There, hearing there was hope, a wail erupted; here, hearing of death, a laugh burst forth.

What a stark and bizarre contrast.

The relatives huddled together on the other side froze in place.

“Dead, dead,” the woman repeated blankly, letting out a soft chuckle, “He’s finally dead!”

Finally?

This woman must be losing her mind from grief.

The young woman broke the silence first with a loud sob, interrupting the woman’s chatter. The other children and the old woman followed suit, and the family rushed towards the courtyard.

This time, no one stopped them; the neighbors followed them in.

The smell of blood, the strong scent of medicine in the courtyard, and the clearly tidied scene made the onlookers feel a little timid and curious.

The man lay flat on the stretcher, covered with a white cloth. The family rushed over and pulled it back, seeing that he was still bloody, but the body had been neatly prepared.

“Where is the pole?” everyone asked, looking around.

“The pole has been removed; the thoracotomy was successful, but due to excessive blood loss from the thigh injury, ultimately…” Qi Yue explained.

The family was already gathered around the man, weeping loudly.

“You, you, you didn’t treat my father, did you?” the girl suddenly looked up and shouted at Qi Yue.

“How could I not treat him?” Qi Yue shook her head. “I performed the thoracotomy, removed the pole, and stitched the damaged organs…”

“But my father is still dead!” the girl interrupted her, screaming sharply.

“That was because of the blood loss…” Qi Yue started to reply.

But she was cut off again.

“Then why isn’t she dead?” the girl pointed at Madam Xie, who was being moved onto a cart, and screamed.

“This is completely different; the symptoms are different,” Qi Yue argued.

But the girl wouldn't listen, rising to charge forward.

“Why isn’t she dead? Why isn’t she dead? Is it because she is nobler than us? Is it because we are lowly that we deserve to die? You didn’t treat my father! You didn’t treat my father at all!” she shrieked.

However, she didn't reach Qi Yue. Chang Yuncheng stepped forward and blocked her way.

“Get lost!” he barked. “If it’s his time to die, must you blame the doctor?”

He kicked out, sending the charging figure sprawling.

“Oh, you!” Qi Yue reached out, grabbing his arm urgently. “You are escalating the conflict, stop fooling around!”

The girl fell to the ground, looking at the imposing, dark-faced man, and dared not approach further.

She sat on the ground and wept hysterically.

“Heavens, a lowly life deserves to die! Deserves to die!” she cried, beating her chest.

The neighbors in the courtyard looked at Chang Yuncheng with expressions mixing fear and indignation.

Chang Yuncheng said nothing, didn't look at any of them, grabbed Qi Yue’s hand, and turned to leave.

Qi Yue tried to explain, but she was dragged away by Chang Yuncheng’s strength.

The disciples packed up, bowed toward the group, and then boarded their carriage.

Although the villagers looked angry, no one dared step forward to stop them.

The saying was right: if their lives were cheap, then those whose lives were cheap were not considered human! What could they do?

“Why haven’t you changed this temper of yours? Would it kill you to speak kindly? Not speaking kindly can genuinely cause people to die!” Qi Yue said, forcefully pulling her hand free.

“Do you think they would have listened if you had spoken kindly now?” Chang Yuncheng retorted, turning back to look at her. “Right now, they only believe what they see, only what they want to believe. Nothing you say will matter.”

“But you can’t act like that. By doing this, aren’t you just confirming their belief that you use power to oppress people?” Qi Yue countered.

A faint smile touched Chang Yuncheng’s lips.

“So what if they think that?” he said.

Indeed, so what? Qi Yue paused, remembering that this young man hadn’t treated Yuan Bao with much respect either, slashing his arm with a blade once.

“You…” She frowned, wanting to say more but unsure what to say.

Chang Yuncheng turned and strode away.

Qi Yue watched his retreating figure, her brow furrowed with a touch of anxiety.

“Master, let’s get in the carriage,” a disciple requested from behind.

Qi Yue glanced back at the courtyard. Chang Yuncheng’s guards had taken the torches, and the yard was swallowed by the night, the sounds of weeping carrying through the darkness, sounding particularly eerie.

Failure...

She turned and got into the carriage.

Failure!

Qi Yue sat up abruptly, finding herself in her office. Outside, the light was dim.

She immediately got out of bed and walked out. The courtyard lacked the usual quiet of early morning: early risers, disciples changing shifts, and family members of patients chatting—the space once exclusively hers was now occupied by the very spot favored by the relatives for socializing.

Because of Madam Xie’s critical condition, the Hall of a Thousand Beauties had to clear out a ward, a task Chang Yuncheng had naturally handled.

Those patients were eligible for discharge, but they stubbornly refused to leave. When had their worry shifted from lacking beds to patients refusing to vacate them?

At that moment, the chatting relatives were discussing Madam Xie.

“…I saw it… on her neck…”

“Surgery on the neck? How can someone survive with their throat cut open?”

“…Nonsense, Qi Niangzi is here. She could bring back a heart; what’s cutting the neck to her…”

Hearing this, Qi Yue offered a wry smile and sighed. Madam Qi wasn't omnipotent…

“Master,” a disciple called out, bowing when he saw her.

Everyone in the courtyard looked over and greeted her warmly and respectfully.

Qi Yue smiled and nodded to each one before entering Madam Xie’s ward.

A'ru was checking the blood pressure monitor; Chang Yuncheng and Old Madam Xie were inside. Because it was designated intensive care, the maids and servants were barred—though persuading the latter two to leave was impossible.

“Doctor Liu went to prepare the medicine,” A'ru reported. “Why didn’t you sleep in a bit longer?”

How could she sleep soundly…

Qi Yue smiled faintly.

“I slept very well; I’m not tired,” she said, walking towards Madam Xie’s bedside.

“No bleeding, but her temperature is slightly elevated,” A'ru quickly informed her.

Qi Yue nodded, looking at Madam Xie, who was still asleep with her eyes closed, though this was no longer the shock of near-death.

“You go rest; I’ll watch her,” she instructed.

A'ru nodded, not standing on ceremony, and left. Everyone had grown accustomed to this shift system, moving past strict boundaries of master/servant or teacher/disciple, adhering instead to the principle that rest ensured better work.

“Yue Niang, is she… really alright?” Old Madam Xie asked Qi Yue, a question she had repeated several times since last night.

Qi Yue used a piece of gauze to examine the incision site.

“I…” She paused slightly before speaking. “I can only say we did our best.”

Old Madam Xie gave a soft ‘oh’ and continued to look worried. Chang Yuncheng glanced at Qi Yue.

News of Madam Xie had naturally reached the Marquis of Dingxi’s residence. Physician Zhou, satisfied with the spectacle, had returned to the residence to rest, as the Hall of a Thousand Beauties had no spare room for him.

Seeing that the news had elicited no particular reaction from those present, he found it strange.

“Hey, she’s healed! Your mistress was dying, and they cured her,” he insisted to a servant, emphasizing the significance of the event. “She was genuinely without breath at one point…”

The servant reacted with disdain.

“That’s only natural,” the servant replied. “Our young mistress is a Divine Doctor; of course, she can bring the dead back to life. What’s so strange about that?”

Physician Zhou felt his face twitch.

What’s so strange? Your reaction is what’s strange! Where did you get such certainty? This is healing a critical, life-or-death illness! It’s not something as simple as eating a meal!