Dare to shirk responsibility? This adorable little one will tear down your military district!

The rain was still falling outside, pattering against the windowpane, making one's heart race.

A stove was lit inside, but the heat couldn't dispel the stench of blood and disinfectant. Gu Changfeng leaned against the folded quilts, his left arm swollen like a steamed bun, his once wheat-colored skin now a horrifying purplish-red.

His forehead was covered in cold sweat, and his lips were bitten until they turned white, but he didn't utter a sound.

The anesthesia had long since worn off. Right now, it felt like hundreds of hacksaws were tearing at my arm, the pain was excruciating.

Give me the scissors.

Lin Wanrou's voice suddenly rang out. Unlike her usual soft and gentle voice, her voice was frighteningly steady, exuding an undeniable air of authority.

With her short legs, Meng Yaya deftly pulled a shiny pair of medical scissors from her yellow schoolbag and handed it to her mother.

Lin Wanrou took it, without even looking at Gu Changfeng's face contorted in pain, and with two quick snips, cut open the gauze bandage that had been prepared by the military hospital.

Once the splint inside was removed, the deformed arm was exposed.

"Nonsense! Absolutely nonsense!" Lin Wanrou looked at the still-bleeding wound, her hands trembling with anger. "The bones aren't aligned at all! Bone fragments are still pressing on the flesh; even if it heals, it'll be a cripple!"

Gu Changfeng, panting heavily, forced a smile: "Wife, don't be angry... The army doctor said it's too brittle, they dare not force it..."

"They don't dare, but I do."

Lin Wanrou slammed the scissors on the kang table. She turned around, took out a row of silver needles from the cloth bag she had brought with her, and then took out a porcelain jar containing a dark ointment.

"Changfeng, do you believe me?" she asked.

Gu Changfeng looked at her. This woman, who used to be too afraid to even speak loudly, now stood there, radiating a light that felt unfamiliar to him. It was the confidence that could only be seen in the most outstanding surgeons.

"My life is yours." Gu Changfeng clenched his right fist. "Do whatever you want with me."

"Ya Ya, go and block the door. Don't let anyone open it," Lin Wanrou instructed. "Also, stuff a towel in your dad's mouth."

Meng Yaya ran over excitedly, first locking the door latch, and then finding a clean new towel.

"Dad, open your mouth." Meng Yaya climbed onto the kang (a heated brick bed), her little face serious like a little adult. "If you cry from the pain later, I'll tell Zhao Tiezhu."

Gu Changfeng was in so much pain that he wanted to curse, but when he heard this, he almost burst out laughing and obediently opened his mouth and bit the towel.

Lin Wanrou took a deep breath and began to feel around the severed arm with both hands. Her movements were very gentle, her fingertips pressing lightly, as if she were trying to piece together the broken bones in her mind.

Suddenly, her hand stopped.

"Bear with it."

Before she could finish speaking, Lin Wanrou's technique suddenly became sharp.

There was a muffled "crack" sound!

Gu Changfeng suddenly tilted his head back, letting out a muffled roar like a dying beast. The veins on his neck bulged, and for a moment, the pain made his vision go black; he almost passed out.

That's like forcefully straightening out misaligned bone fragments!

Lin Wanrou didn't stop. Her hands moved so fast they were practically blurry, pinching, pushing, squeezing, and pressing. Each movement was accompanied by a sickeningly loud grinding sound.

Meng Yaya stood to the side and could see it clearly. Her mother's technique was definitely a direct inheritance from that old man Sun Shouzhen, and even more ruthless and precise.

While Lin Wanrou turned around to get the splint, Meng Yaya waved her little hand.

A drop of crystal-clear, faintly glowing spring water silently fell into the porcelain jar containing the ointment.

"alright."

Lin Wanrou was covered in sweat, as if she had just fought a tough battle. She picked up the ointment mixed with the good stuff and applied it thickly to Gu Changfeng's wound.

A cool sensation instantly penetrated the skin and flesh, seeping into the bones.

Gu Changfeng's body, which had been convulsing with pain, miraculously relaxed. The excruciating pain was largely suppressed by the coolness of the ointment.

"This medicine..." Gu Changfeng spat out the towel from his mouth, panting heavily, his voice hoarse, "It's amazing."

Lin Wanrou used a willow plank to fix his arm again and wrapped it with bandages. Only then did she breathe a sigh of relief, her body went limp, and she almost sat down on the ground.

"Mom!" Meng Yaya reacted quickly and caught Lin Wanrou.

Despite her small size, she was incredibly strong, firmly supporting Lin Wanrou's lower back.

"Mom's fine, just tired." Lin Wanrou wiped her sweat, and looking at Gu Changfeng's no longer ferocious expression, a long-lost smile appeared on her face.

"Changfeng, we've matched up. As long as you don't move around too much these next few days, I'm confident I can restore your arm to its previous state."

Gu Changfeng looked at his arms, which were wrapped up like a rice dumpling, and then at his wife, whose face was pale with exhaustion. A part of his heart softened completely.

"Honey, you've worked hard."

"Alright, stop being so sour." Meng Yaya brought over a bowl of herbal medicine that had been brewed earlier and had been spiked with ingredients. "Drink your medicine quickly, then go to sleep. If you keep talking nonsense, I'll let Black Wind come in and lick your face."

Gu Changfeng gave a wry smile and, with Lin Wanrou's help, downed the bowl of terribly bitter medicine in one gulp.

Perhaps the medicine was too strong, or perhaps the exertion had exhausted him, because less than two minutes later, Gu Changfeng began to snore heavily.

I slept soundly for a long time.

When Gu Changfeng opened his eyes again, the rain outside had stopped. Sunlight streamed through the paper window, falling warmly onto the kang (a heated brick bed).

He instinctively tried to move his body, but found that his left arm was heavy and firmly fixed in place.

Then, he froze.

Does it stop hurting?

The excruciating pain of a broken bone disappeared, replaced by a tingling, itchy sensation, like the wound healing rapidly. And it's only been one night! Even the best painkillers in the military hospital wouldn't have this effect, would they?

Could my wife really be a goddess descended from heaven?

"Gurgle—"

A loud bang shattered the tranquility of the room. Gu Changfeng's face flushed red; he had slept for a whole day and night, and his stomach was so empty it could run a horse.

The curtain was lifted, and two figures, one tall and one short, walked in.

Lin Wanrou carried a large bowl filled with steaming millet porridge, topped with two golden poached eggs. Meng Yaya followed behind, holding a spoon, like a little supervisor.

"Awake?" Lin Wanrou placed the bowl on the kang table and reached out to touch Gu Changfeng's forehead. "No fever, looks like you've pulled through this."

Gu Changfeng tried to sit up, but as soon as he exerted himself, his stomach rumbled again.

"Are you hungry?" Lin Wanrou suppressed a laugh.

"Hmm." Gu Changfeng was a little embarrassed. He tried to lift his right hand to pick up the bowl, but found that his right hand was still trembling uncontrollably because he had used too much force to grab the bed sheet yesterday. He couldn't even hold a spoon steadily.

I just tried it, and as soon as the spoon touched the rim of the bowl, it fell back down with a "clink".

This is awkward.

His left hand was broken, and his right hand was useless. The once-powerful commander of a special forces regiment was now struggling to even afford food.

Gu Changfeng looked at the bowl of fragrant millet porridge, his Adam's apple bobbed, and he looked helplessly at Lin Wanrou, as if to say: Wife, lend a hand.

Meng Yaya, who had been silent the whole time, suddenly slammed her spoon on the table.

"Mom, sit down."

A mischievous smile played on Meng Yaya's rosy cheeks. She shoved the spoon into Lin Wanrou's hand and then pointed at Gu Changfeng, who was leaning against the pile of quilts.

"My father is currently injured and unable to take care of himself. As his family, we must offer him the warmth and care we would give him in the spring."

Meng Yaya waved her little hand, issuing the highest order: "Mom, you feed him! Feed him bite by bite! You have to feed him with affection and with skill!"