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

The man from the mountains was called Liu Da, a hunter who lived on the mountainside about ten miles west of the village.

Covered in sweat and mud, with blood on his trouser legs and back, he couldn't tell whether it was his own or someone else's.

And he was carrying someone on his back.

A girl covered in blood, limp and about to faint.

The blood flowed down the girl's clothes and splashed onto the ground at the courtyard gate, forming a circle of dark red spots.

The villagers who were standing at the door treating patients swarmed over and then scattered, none daring to touch his hand.

Yang Hu's heart tightened, he dropped the millstone in his hand and ran over to meet him in three steps at a time.

"Put it down, put it down flat, head up!"

Liu Dadao: "Dr. Yang, please! My sister, Liu Ye, went into the mountains this morning to set traps and ran into some barbarians sneaking around. She... she fought them for me!"

Yang Hu didn't argue with him; his hand was already on the girl's neck.

Too detailed, too fast, and too chaotic.

Excessive blood loss.

He lifted the tattered hunting coat off the girl's shoulders.

A deep, long gash cut diagonally from the left shoulder to the back, blood was still seeping out, and the edges of the wound had turned upside down, covered in mud and grass.

However, there were two shallower scratches on the side of his arm.

This looks like a real, hard-fought battle!

"Hiss!"

The villagers who had gathered around for some fun all gasped in surprise.

"Oh dear, what a terrible thing, that woman..."

"Barbarian Blade, is there any hope for this...?"

Liu Dadao knelt down with a thud, crawled two steps, and hugged Yang Hu's legs.

"Dr. Yang, we don't have any doctors here, and it looks like we're at our wits' end... I have a little girl here, and she's beyond saving... I only have this one child left... Please!"

Yang Hu squatted on the ground and did not answer.

I lifted the girl's eyes to take a look; her pupils were still sensitive. Then I checked her breath and four legs; they were all cold to the touch, but not completely frozen.

There is still hope if a person is not completely dead.

He was calculating quickly in his mind.

Bleeding is dangerous. But the incision is long, quite far from the major blood vessels in the throat, and the bone isn't broken.

The bleeding was too excessive, and the time wasted was too long. Also, the journey was fraught with dirt and weeds. It will soon develop a fever and swelling.

If it causes swelling and heat, and the poison enters the blood and qi, even a god can't help.

The most important thing now is to stop the bleeding, clean the wound, and restore blood and energy.

If he were in his hometown, he would need stitches, IV drips, and an IV. He would be able to walk again after about two weeks of rest.

However, this is beyond the Great Wall.

Even a good piece of cloth has to be boiled.

He then raised his head.

"Carry it inside. Lu Rou, boil some water. Lu Yan, get my needlework and liquor. The faster, the better!"

The tone showed no hesitation.

The villagers were taken aback, and quickly carried the girl into the medical tent.

Liu Da followed behind, turning back every few steps.

Inside the medical tent, candles were lit, illuminating the deathly pale face on the kang (a heated brick bed).

Yang Hu rolled up his sleeves, first washing away the mud and grass beneath him with water, then picked up the jar of liquor and poured it over the mixture.

The wine was poured onto the wound, and the girl's unconscious body twitched suddenly, a muffled sound escaping her throat.

"You're awake, that's a good thing," Yang Hu said, his hands still busy. "It means the wound won't completely break down."

Yang Hu took out a needle and thread from his small bag, heated it over a candle, and then dipped it in wine.

He bent down and, by the light of the candle, sewed it on stitch by stitch.

The long gash from shoulder to back required more than twenty stitches.

He sewed quickly and meticulously, the spacing between each needle seemingly a work of art, beads of sweat dripping from his forehead onto the edge of the kang (a heated brick bed).

Liu Da squatted to the side, shivering from the cold, not daring to breathe.

Lu Yan helped out, handing over needles and wiping away blood, much more efficiently. Having seen so much these past few days, she was no longer the first Miss Lu to turn her face away.

Insert the needle, pull out the thread, insert the wound medicine, wrap it with a clean towel, and most importantly, replenish the lost blood and energy.

Yang Hu had someone cook a thick porridge for Lu Rou, adding salt, a little sugar, and some herbs to replenish her vital energy. After letting it cool to a warm temperature, he pried open her mouth and fed her spoonful by spoonful.

Having lost so much blood, it's impossible to stop it; you have to let a breath rise from your stomach.

His hometown used a different method, sending it directly into his bloodline.

But there are no such conditions here, so we can only use the most rudimentary method: slowly pouring it into his mouth.

"This young lady has a good constitution," he said as he fed her. "She has strong bones and a tight heart. If she were a small bonsai tree, she would have vomited so much blood long ago."

Liu Da squatted by the wall, seemingly listening but not really, just nodding repeatedly, his eyes fixed on the girl's face.

About an hour later.

The girl's pale face finally regained some color.

The rapid breathing also calmed down.

Yang Hu took the pulse, and the slightly throbbing pulse had finally stabilized somewhat.

"The bleeding has stopped, and the person has been saved." He stood up, rubbing his slightly sore arms. "All we can do now is pray. As long as the fever doesn't spike again in the next two or three days, he should be able to pull through."

Liu Dada kowtowed.

"Dr. Yang! You are the greatest benefactor of our Liu family! We are so grateful! We could never repay this kindness, even if we worked like oxen and horses our whole lives!"

"Don't kneel down and kowtow yet," Yang Hu pulled him up. "You said she fought those barbarians to protect you? How many barbarians?"

"Three!" He held up three fingers, his expression a mixture of fear and pride. "When I was gathering herbs, I slipped and twisted my ankle, unable to move. Those three barbarians sneaked over to steal my things, but my sister, I don't know where she got the strength, took down one of them with her hunting bow, and then fought off the other two..."

"She killed one of them, and got slashed herself. The remaining two, seeing they couldn't get anything out of her, cursed and ran away." As Liu Da spoke, tears streamed down his face again. "She gritted her teeth and carried me, a grown man, step by step for seven or eight miles before finally reaching the village... She fainted at the village entrance..."

Everyone in the shed clicked their tongues; their previous disdain for the spectacle instantly transformed into respect for the girl.

"Good heavens! A young woman carrying a big man for seven or eight miles up the mountain?"

"Oh my, she even killed a barbarian! Which girl was she? She's better than any of the young men in our village!"

The village women who had previously thought the girl was unlucky and covered in blood all changed their tune, praising her with admiration.

A girl of seventeen or eighteen, armed with a bow and a machete, single-handedly fought three barbarians, and even with injuries on her back, she was truly a fierce girl, just as tough as the men in the village!

Yang Hu raised his eyebrows slightly and looked down at the little girl on the kang (a heated brick bed).

His features weren't very mature, so he must have been only seventeen or eighteen years old. But his hands were covered in thick calluses, the area between his thumb and forefinger was rough from being pulled by a bow, and there were several old scars under his fingernails.

Those were hands that could wield knives and eat thorns.

It was also a hand that carried its family on its back and refused to lie down on its own.

Yang Hu has treated many patients; he has seen many who kowtow in gratitude and others weep bitterly.

But the first thing she said after being injured and unconscious was not about her own life or death, but about her older brother and her bow... She was the first one!

That indescribable thing quietly jumped.

At this moment, the sleeping girl's eyelids twitched a few times, and she suddenly opened her eyes.

She sat up with a start, and her first instinct wasn't to cry out in pain, but to grab her waist with her hand!

I missed my chance.

She moved slightly, aggravating her wound. The pain made her face even paler, but she didn't cry out. Her eyes were filled with vigilance, like a wounded mother wolf protecting her cubs, staring intently at Yang Hu, who was lying to the side!

"Where did my bow go?"

Her voice was extremely hoarse, but the first thing she said wasn't "Am I here?" or "Who rescued me?", but rather...

"And where is my brother?"