Martial Arts Across the Heavens: Becoming a Martial God Starting from the Big Boss in Tangshan

Chapter 152 Time is Important

Some members of the White Lotus sect had participated in the previous conflict at the telegraph office and quickly recognized Wong Fei-hung. Terrified, they screamed and ran away.

They were terrified after being beaten last time.

Huang Feihong knocked down several men, but seeing the rest of the group scatter, he still wanted to pursue them.

"Brother Huang! Don't pursue a desperate enemy! Save the people first!" Chen Wen's voice came.

Huang Feihong immediately stopped and quickly returned to the venue where the fireworks had not yet dissipated with Chen Wen.

The venue was in complete disarray, a truly horrific sight.

Tables and chairs overturned and caught fire, glass shards littered the ground, and the injured lay or sat, groans filling the air.

The air was filled with the smells of blood, burnt food, and smoke.

But it was a stroke of luck amidst the misfortune.

This is the venue for the medical conference!

Everyone present was a doctor!

While Chen Wen and Huang Feihong were out blocking the enemy, the surviving doctors had already taken action on their own.

They saw Chen Wen and Huang Feihong return.

Many doctors cast grateful glances at them, and some said thank you in broken Chinese or English.

"A doctor's heart is filled with compassion; let's cut the fluff and save lives first!"

Chen Wen simply waved his hand, quickly scanning the entire room.

The White Lotus Sect primarily used bows and arrows, and most of the injuries were arrow wounds, falling under the category of external injuries.

This was originally a professional field for the many Western doctors present who were skilled in surgery.

But there's a terrible problem!

No anesthetic!

Removing arrowheads embedded in flesh and even bone without anesthesia is incredibly painful.

Several wounded men, whose arrows were being removed, let out piercing screams, causing the doctors performing the treatment to break out in a sweat and their hands to tremble.

"God—there's no anesthesia—"

"This is too painful; he'll go into shock!"

Several Western doctors were in a panic, at a loss for what to do.

Sun Yat-sen was also very anxious. He had studied Western medicine and knew the predicament of this situation.

In a panic.

All eyes were once again drawn to Chen Wen.

This young man, who had just impressed everyone with his extraordinary insight, became their pillar of support in their panic.

"Mr. Chen! What should we do? Without anesthesia, the surgery cannot proceed!"

An elderly foreign doctor asked anxiously.

Without saying much, Chen Wen walked directly to a Western doctor who had been shot in the shoulder with an arrow.

He reached out and took out a needle pouch from his bosom. He unfolded it, revealing dozens of silver needles of varying lengths and as fine as cow hair.

Under the astonished gazes of everyone.

Chen Wen moved with lightning speed, precisely inserting several silver needles into acupoints on the injured person's shoulder, neck, and arm.

The needle is inserted quickly, steadily, and accurately, with an indescribable rhythm.

It's strange.

The injured man's face, which had been contorted with excruciating pain, relaxed at a visible speed, and his clenched teeth loosened.

She looked at her shoulder with surprise and disbelief: "Oh my God—it doesn't hurt anymore? It really doesn't hurt anymore! It's just a little—numb and swollen?"

"My God! Is this magic?!"

"Is it Eastern acupuncture? I've heard of it! It's amazing!"

Exclamations of surprise rang out from all around; both traditional Chinese medicine practitioners and Western medicine practitioners were astonished by the immediate effect.

"What are you all standing there for!"

Chen Wen shouted at the Western doctors standing next to him who were in a daze.

"The time for sealing the meridians and relieving pain is limited! Act quickly, remove the broken arrow, clean the wound, and suture it!"

"Ah? Yes! Yes!" The doctors seemed to wake up from a dream and immediately surrounded the doctors, starting the procedure professionally and quickly.

really.

Throughout the entire process of cleaning the wound and removing the arrow, the injured man, though his brow was furrowed, did not let out any more unbearable screams.

This scene greatly inspired everyone.

"Everyone, listen up!"

"Those who know acupuncture, go and seal the meridians to relieve pain! Everyone else, go for surgery!"

At Chen Wen's command, everyone immediately sprang into action, with clear division of labor.

Chen Wen, Huang Feihong, and several other traditional Chinese medicine practitioners who were skilled in acupuncture moved among the injured.

A flash of silver light, and fine needles fell, temporarily sealing off the pain.

Other surgeons, whether from the East or the West, followed closely behind to perform emergency surgeries.

Amidst this chaotic and bloody ruin, a peculiar scene emerged.

Traditional Chinese medicine practitioners, dressed in long gowns, swiftly insert needles, while Western doctors, in suits or white coats, perform suturing.

Eastern techniques and Western medical practices work together seamlessly for the same purpose: saving lives.

Even with a language barrier, we rely on gestures and eye contact; despite differing styles, trust and cooperation are the only options at this moment.

Aside from a few unfortunate individuals who were directly hit in vital areas by rockets and died on the spot.

The vast majority of the injured survived.

When the wounds of the last seriously injured person were properly bandaged.

The atmosphere in the room, which had been tense for so long, finally erupted with excited sobs and sighs of relief.

Many people hugged each other, regardless of skin color or nationality.

Many doctors looked at their blood-stained hands, then at their strange colleagues who had just been fighting alongside them, their eyes filled with complex emotions.

A Western doctor with gray hair walked up to Chen Wen and bowed deeply.

"Mr. Chen, thank you for saving me and my colleague. And—what you just said about medicine, I truly understand now."

He straightened up, looked at the exhausted crowd around him, and raised his voice, as if addressing everyone: "Today, there are no traditional Chinese medicine practitioners here, no Western medicine practitioners. Only—doctors!"

This statement resonated with many people.

Yes, when it comes to life, what difference does it make whether it's east or west?

Good medical skills are those that can save lives, and a good doctor is one who has a compassionate heart.

Seeing this, Chen Wen finally smiled.

Sun Wen wiped his hands with a blood-stained cloth, then wiped the sweat from his forehead, and walked over to Chen Wen and Huang Feihong.

His long robe was stained with blood and dust, making him look somewhat disheveled, but his eyes were incredibly bright.

"Mr. Chen, Master Huang."

"What I have seen and experienced today has truly filled me with utmost respect."

"It's not just their miraculous medical skills that brought the dead back to life, but also their compassionate heart that transcends sectarianism and their commitment to modern medicine."

Chen Wen shook his head, his tone calm but with a hint of imperceptible heaviness: "No matter how skilled a doctor is, there are people they can't save, and diseases they can't cure. Even a god descending to earth wouldn't be able to help them."

"All we can do is try our best and save as many lives as we can."

Sun Wen nodded in agreement, and subconsciously took out the brass pocket watch from his pocket and glanced at it.

Wong Fei-hung happened to notice and casually asked, "Mr. Sun, I've noticed you're always checking the time. Is something important?"

Sun Yat-sen smiled and said, "Time is opportunity, time is life, and we can't be careless. It's just that in the chaos just now, this watch seems to have been knocked, so I don't know if it's still accurate."

He fiddled with the watch case with some concern.

Upon hearing this, Wong Fei-hung raised his left wrist and glanced at it: "It's 5:05 PM. How much off is your pocket watch?"

Sun Wen looked in the direction he was pointing and his gaze immediately froze on Huang Feihong's wrist.

There he was wearing a delicate, small, round object that he had never seen before, with a transparent glass surface, a black dial, clear hands, and a leather strap!

"What...what is this?!"

Sun Yat-sen instinctively widened his eyes and leaned closer to take a closer look.

"A watch? A watch worn on the wrist? I've traveled to many countries over the years and have never seen such an exquisite and portable timekeeping device! Master Huang, where did you get this?"