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

The counterattack from that hand was swift and ruthless.

On the third day after Yang Hu took over the Central Army's medical affairs, a major incident occurred in the Central Army's main tent.

A military advisor surnamed Sun was a trusted confidant of Deputy Commander Zhou and an important official in charge of the army's food and fodder distribution. One afternoon, after having a meal, he suddenly collapsed at his desk, unconscious.

When Sun, the military advisor, was carried to Yang Hu's presence, his condition was extremely perilous.

His face was pale and bluish-purple, his muscles twitched in waves, and strange hoarse sounds came from his throat. When his pulse was taken, it was so fast that it was erratic, sometimes as rapid as a pounding drum, and sometimes so weak that it seemed about to break.

"This is bad." Several doctors who had come with the army from the city gathered around, took a look, and shook their heads repeatedly. "This is an acute attack on the heart; I'm afraid... he can't be saved."

Just then, a chilling voice emerged from the crowd.

"This illness is too strange." The speaker was the same quartermaster who had previously switched the military medicines. He was now cowering to the side, his eyes filled with malice. "How come Military Advisor Sun was perfectly fine, but as soon as someone else took over the medical duties, he fell ill? All the medicines for the central army were prepared with the help of this Physician Yang..."

This seemingly unintentional remark is actually extremely malicious.

All eyes in the tent turned to Yang Hu.

If a newly appointed medical officer dies suddenly, the label of "medical officer causing the death of a key military officer" can be attached to him. At best, he will lose his position; at worst, he will be sentenced to death for "colluding with the enemy and plotting murder."

That hand was meant to use this opportunity to uproot this troublesome person completely.

Yang Hu remained completely calm.

He bent down and first took Sun's pulse. The pulse was rapid and erratic, sometimes strong and sometimes weak, which was definitely not a common acute illness. He then examined Sun's eyelids and tongue. The tongue was stiff and numb, curled up and unresponsive. He then brought his nose and mouth close to Sun's mouth and sniff carefully.

Between his lips and tongue, there was a very faint, bitter, and numbing scent that could not be missed by his nose.

Numbness in the mouth and tongue, irregular heartbeat, and convulsions in the limbs—all these symptoms clearly point to the same thing.

His gaze suddenly turned cold.

"This isn't an illness." Yang Hu slowly rose, his voice low but clear, carrying throughout the entire tent. "It's poisoning."

The tent was filled with uproar.

"His mouth and tongue were numb, his heart was palpitating, his pulse was erratic, and his limbs were convulsing," Yang Hu said, emphasizing each word. "This is because he has been poisoned by aconite. Once the poison enters the mouth, it first numbs the tongue, then disrupts the heart's pulse, and finally rips out the tendons and bones. If we delay any longer, this Military Advisor Sun will be killed by this poison."

"Nonsense!" The quartermaster's face changed drastically, and he shouted, his voice filled with bluster but his heart was filled with fear. "It's clearly your poor medical skills that killed someone, and now you're blaming it on poisoning!"

"Whether it's poisoning or not, we can find out by testing it once we save him." Yang Hu turned around decisively and rushed towards Sun, the military advisor.

The poison of aconite comes from the transmigrator's knowledge, which far surpasses that of this era. The poison resides in the internal organs; removing it brings life. The method of detoxification and the precise dosage of the medicine must be flawless.

He immediately ordered warm salt water to be brought, and first induced vomiting in the military advisor, slowly scraping out the undigested poison from his stomach, cutting off the source of the poison. Then, he quickly prepared a concentrated detoxifying soup with mung beans and licorice as the main ingredients, and while it was still hot, he fed it to the unconscious military advisor spoonful by spoonful.

The poison of aconite is most damaging to the heart. Yang Hu took out silver needles and precisely placed them on several vital acupoints on Sun Canjun's wrist and chest, needle by needle, firmly stabilizing the heart meridian that was about to dissipate.

He used three methods simultaneously: inducing vomiting, detoxifying, and stabilizing the pulse. He stayed by the bedside, never leaving for a moment.

Time passed little by little.

The convulsing and dying Sun Canjun, who was originally on the verge of death, gradually stopped convulsing under Yang Hu's method, and his dark purple lips gradually regained their color.

In less than the time it takes for an incense stick to burn, Sun, who had been sentenced to death, slowly opened his eyes and breathed weakly. Yang Hu had actually snatched back the last breath from the poisonous hands of that aconite.

The tent was deathly silent.

The doctors who had previously asserted that he was "beyond saving" stared wide-eyed at the miraculously resurrected Military Advisor Sun, unable to utter a single word.

Yang Hu slowly stood up and presented the vomited poison to Vice Commander Zhou.

"Please take a look, Vice Commander. The smell of this poison and the pulse of Military Advisor Sun confirm one thing." He spoke each word clearly, his gaze sharp as a knife, sweeping over the pale-faced quartermaster. "This isn't an illness; someone has poisoned Military Advisor Sun's food and drink with aconite. They want to kill this military advisor in charge of provisions and then frame me, the newly appointed head of medicine, for this tragedy."

"Killing two birds with one stone, what a ruthless idea."

The rescued military advisor, Sun, was leaning weakly against the couch. Hearing these words, he broke out in a cold sweat. He never imagined that his ordinary meal would be a death trap. If it weren't for this young medical officer, he would have already become a discarded pawn on someone else's chessboard.

"Medical Officer Yang," he struggled to bow, his voice trembling, "you saved my life..."

Deputy Commander Zhou flew into a rage, slamming his fist on the table, which startled all the soldiers in the tent: "How dare you! You dare to poison someone and frame a meritorious official right under my nose, in this very central command tent! Guards, seize this quartermaster and interrogate him thoroughly to find out who is behind this!"

The quartermaster was so frightened that he turned pale, fell to his knees with a thud, and trembled all over.

The officers in the tent looked at the minor official with a shift from initial suspicion to utter contempt. Even the several military physicians who had previously hoped to see Yang Hu make a fool of himself now lowered their heads in embarrassment.

A potentially fatal disaster was turned around by Yang Hu's skill in saving lives, deftly deflecting the attack. Not only did he fail to bring the attacker down, but he also pushed the hand hidden behind his back into the open.

But Yang Hu felt no relief whatsoever.

Sure enough, as he expected.

Before the quartermaster could be taken away for questioning, he broke free while the guards were distracted, smashed his head against a tent pillar, and died instantly, his brains splattered.

Dead people don't speak.

He'd rather die than utter a single word. The hand hidden behind his back terrified him more than death itself.

The hand hidden deepest within once again abandoned this chess piece, cutting off its tail to survive, and retreated back into its bottomless shell.

As Yang Hu stared at the corpse of the quartermaster, his gaze gradually darkened.

Once again, he escaped unscathed from the trap set by that hand, and even got one step closer to its true form.

But that hand still didn't reveal its true form. The waters in this central command tent were deeper than he had imagined.

Outside the tent, the drums and horns of the barbarian army pressing in grew louder day by day.

That hand, by planting poison within the central army, secretly harming military officers, and framing meritorious officials, clearly intended to sow discord and demoralize the troops at Qing Shi Kou before the great battle. It echoed the million-strong barbarian army pressing in from beyond the pass, working together from within and without to annihilate this border fortress, along with all the soldiers and civilians of the city.

Yang Hu clenched his fist.

He had already reached the side tent, touched the fingertips of that hand. But to overthrow this vicious dragon entrenched in the central army, he still needed the final, and most fatal, link in his grasp.

Internal troubles and external threats, these two deadly nooses, tightened simultaneously on the eve of the decisive battle at Qing Shi Kou.