A divine healer, a general, a young marquis! Who can rival them!

The soldier surnamed Zhao dealt with the matter, and within half a day, the news spread throughout the entire village.

Then, as it was passed around, it became distorted.

It is said that Doctor Yang can turn a living person into a dead person and a dead person into a living person by poking them with his finger.

It is said that the talisman hidden in Doctor Yang's sleeve can suppress a person's soul.

Under the big locust tree at the village entrance, several women sewing shoe soles were gossiping about this matter in great detail.

"My husband said that the soldier that Fatty Wang is dating is quite a big shot in their western camp, and he's usually incredibly arrogant."

"No matter how tough they are, they still kneel down when they meet our family's Doctor Yang?"

"From now on, with a living Buddha like Doctor Yang protecting our family, those barbarians will have to take a detour."

Everyone nodded in agreement, each one smugly pleased with themselves.

Fatty Wang was completely exhausted.

From then on, whenever the village bully saw Yang Hu, he would lower his head and dodge around him, like a mouse encountering a cat.

This village, this courtyard, sooner or later, he'll be drawn into a game of chess.

He just couldn't understand this game of chess.

Ever since that rogue soldier left, Qin Ying has been acting strangely.

His face was redder than usual, and he spoke less. When Yang Hu asked him something, he just gave a curt "It's nothing."

He assumed that Qin Ying was troubled by the matter at the Western Camp and didn't take it to heart.

I didn't eat much for lunch, saying I had no appetite.

In the afternoon, I saw her staring blankly at the door frame, her forehead covered in sweat. When I asked her what was wrong, she said it was hot.

Now that I think about it, it was just getting warm in early spring, not hot at all.

Later that evening, Lu Rou suddenly screamed from inside the kitchen.

"Husband! Something's wrong with Sister Qin!"

Yang Hu's heart jumped, and he quickly ran over.

On the bed in the inner room, Qin Ying was curled up, her face burning red, the hair on her forehead damp, and she was muttering something unintelligible.

"Western Camp...we can't go back..."

She's talking nonsense.

Yang Hu touched her forehead.

Scalding hot.

"Everything was fine just now, how could it change so suddenly?" Lu Yan came in with water, her face already deathly pale.

Yang Hu remained silent.

He gently lifted the clothes off Qin Ying's left shoulder.

The cloth covering the arrow wound was soaked through with pus and blood, patchy with yellow and red stains, and a faint smell of decay could be smelled from nearby.

He frowned deeply.

This wound was never fully healed to begin with.

In her panic today, she instinctively touched the sword, which caused her shoulder to reopen her newly healed wound.

In this border region where medical resources are scarce, a festering arrow wound is more deadly than a knife wound.

At that time, it was considered a wound infection. A few IV drips and a couple of anti-inflammatory pills were given, and it was brought under control in three or four days.

But this is the frontier!

That medicine is unavailable!

There's no such pill!

Even a clean cotton pad had to be boiled in a pot.

Even more importantly, when I was examining the wound, my fingertip touched that thing, and it was embedded in the flesh and very uncomfortable. It must be half an arrow stuck in the flesh.

This thing must be pulled out, otherwise the wound will never heal, it will fester repeatedly and eventually drag you down with it.

However, to pull it out, a scalpel would be needed. The surgery was performed in a dilapidated house without any anesthesia or sterile conditions, with only an oil lamp.

"Sister, you're like this..."

Lu Rou's voice was trembling.

"The wound has festered and become poisonous!" Yang Hu said coldly. "If you keep covering it, the poison will attack your heart and you'll die!"

The room fell silent. Lu Yan clutched her skirt tightly, and Qin Ying on the bed groggily opened her eyes at that moment.

She saw Yang Hu lifting her clothes and instinctively wanted to push him away.

But when he raised that hand, he found it was limp and powerless.

"It's okay, it's okay..." she said stubbornly, but her voice lacked conviction. "I can heal this little injury on my own."

"Are you going to get better? If you stay in this house any longer, your arm will be ruined, and if you're even less lucky, you'll die here!"

Qin Ying was stunned. She was a woman who had killed people and had seen too many wounded and sick people on the battlefield.

She understood the meaning of that pus, that stench, that poison attacking the heart—she understood it better than anyone else.

The men in the army weren't stabbed to death by the barbarians' knives, but died from a rotten tendon. She had seen too many men who could be jumping around happily one moment and then start having a fever the next, their bodies swelling up like water buckets. The army doctors couldn't do anything about it; they just died from the pain and the burning.

That was a death more embarrassing than dying in battle.

She was silent for a moment, and her usually sturdy back seemed to have slumped a little.

"How should I treat it?" This was the first time she had formally asked Yang Hu for a treatment method. Her usual imposing demeanor as a daughter of a military family weakened in the face of real life.

She is Qin Ying, the daughter of the Duke of Zhenguo, and the daughter who was ordered to marry into a military family.

Before, she could get the best military doctors and the best medicine no matter where she was. Even if she scraped her skin, she would have people attending to her. But now she was just a patient hiding in a remote village on the border, afraid to reveal her name. Whether she could save her arm and her life depended on the actions of the smiling doctor in front of her who was taking advantage of her.

Life is unpredictable, and yet she trusted him.

I don't know why she trusted him so much.

Yang Hu did not answer.

She stood up, pulled a thin knife from the medicine basket, asked Lu Rou to fetch a pot of boiling water, and then asked Lu Yan to find the strongest liquor in the jar at home.

Lu Rou set up a large pot and started boiling the water, throwing in a few cloths as Yang Hu had instructed.

She was quick and efficient, but terrified, and kept glancing into the inner room.

Lu Yan stood by the kang (a heated brick bed), holding Qin Ying's burning hot hand and saying comforting words.

One foot is warm while the other is cold.

Two women who were complete strangers found themselves entangled in a tight embrace that very night.

Yang Hu glanced at it, said nothing, but secretly remembered the matter.

Lu Yan came in carrying a wine jar, and asked hesitantly, "Father-in-law, is this wine... meant for your sister Qin to drink to give her courage?"

"It's not for drinking." Yang Hu placed the knife in the fire to heat it, the flames illuminating his expressionless face. "It's for washing."

"Wash...wash what?" Lu Rou's eyes widened. "Wash with such strong liquor? It must hurt a lot, right?"

"It hurts, but it's better than being rotten."

Yang Hu picked up the roasted knife and put it back into the wine jar to soak.

The water droplets on the knife sizzled and produced a puff of white smoke.

Everyone in the room felt a bit like their scalps were about to explode.

Who has ever seen a doctor treat an injury by first heating the knife and then pouring strong liquor into it?

This isn't treating an illness; it's more like preparing to do something extremely dangerous!

Qin Ying stared intently at the knife.

She had witnessed how army doctors treated such injuries when she was in the military—they would press a red-hot iron on the wound repeatedly, causing the person excruciating pain, and in the end, they might not even survive.

But this doctor is using a charred knife dipped in strong liquor. This isn't treating an illness; it's clearly about to undertake an extremely dangerous and serious undertaking.

"What...are you planning to do?"

"Cut off the bad part, pry out what's inside, and sew it back up," Yang Hu said casually, as if he were deciding what to have for dinner. "It will definitely hurt a lot. If you can bear it, keep your arm; if you can't, there's nothing I can do."

Qin Ying looked at him.

Then he looked at the knife, which emitted a cold, chilling aura amidst the flames.

After a moment, she finally grabbed the cloth in her hand and put it in her mouth.

Then, she winked at him.

For the first time, something called "trust" appeared in those wary eyes.

Yang Hu grabbed the knife in his hand.

Hang in there!