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

The mysterious fire in the military law archives alarmed half the military camp.

But no one had time to investigate further. Before dawn, the barbarians from beyond the pass launched another fierce attack.

In the wounded soldiers' camp, blood flowed like a river.

The battle that day was exceptionally fierce, raging from before dawn until the sun began to set. As the sun began to set, a wounded soldier was being desperately carried by several comrades, stumbling and falling as they rushed into the wounded soldiers' camp.

"Doctor Yang! Save Commander Sun! He's been hit on the head by a boulder thrown by the barbarians!"

Yang Hu's heart sank, and he quickly stepped forward.

Sun, the centurion, was a fierce general in the western camp, leading about a hundred men. At this moment, he lay supine on the door panel, his head swollen and bruised, unconscious, his eyes tightly closed, with only a faint rise and fall of his chest. No matter how others called out to him or pinched his philtrum, he did not respond.

The military doctors standing nearby had already been shaking their heads repeatedly.

"His head was hit by a rock, and his brains are all shattered," an old doctor sighed. "This is a fatal injury; even a miracle couldn't save him. Take him out and prepare for his funeral."

"Preparing for the worst?" Yang Hu's eyes suddenly darkened. He checked Sun Baihu's pulse, then examined his eyelids closely. "His pulse is still there, but one pupil is larger than the other. This isn't brain damage from the shock; it's internal bleeding, with blood pooling under the skull and pressing on the brain. If this blood is released, he can be saved!"

An ordinary person seeing someone who has been hit on the head and is unconscious would assume that their brain has been damaged and they are surely going to die.

The most dangerous part of being struck on the head by a heavy object isn't the bruise on the outside, but the blood seeping from under the skull and outside the brain. The more blood accumulates, the more it presses on the brain, causing the person to lose consciousness. If left untreated, the brain will be damaged, and there will be no hope of recovery. To save the person, a small hole must be made in the skull to release the blood that is pressing on the brain.

Operating on this skull was extremely dangerous, but it was Sun Baihu's only way to survive.

There is no room for hesitation.

"Bring me strong liquor, my finest drill and knife, and clean cloth!" Yang Hu ordered sternly.

When the doctors accompanying the army heard that he was going to drill holes in people's heads, they were all terrified and turned pale.

"Drill a hole in his head?" the old doctor exclaimed. "Is this treating an illness or risking his life?! If you drill in, he'll be dead on the spot!"

"If we don't drill, he won't survive tonight," Yang Hu said in a deep voice, his eyes filled with a certainty that understood life and death. "The blood clots are pressing on his brain every moment. Drilling them is like snatching a life from the jaws of death."

Qin Ying, disguised as a medicine boy, had already prepared strong liquor, a drill, and a small knife. She then stepped forward to help hold down Commander Sun's head. Despite the fire last night, her hands remained as steady as a rock.

Yang Hu first used strong liquor to carefully disinfect the area on Sun Baihu's head where the bruises were most severe, and then soaked the fine drill in strong liquor.

"This drilling is more dangerous than drilling a hole in an eggshell," Yang Hu said in a deep voice as he drilled down, his eyes showing a certainty that understood life and death. "The brain is right under the skull. Once you drill through that layer of bone, you have to stop. If you go any further, the person will be ruined."

He held his breath, carefully positioned himself to drill, and steadily inserted the fine drill bit by bit into the skull.

This drilling was the most dangerous of all. Too deep, and it would damage the brain; too shallow, and it wouldn't penetrate the skull. It all hinged on that minute margin; not a single mistake could be made. Everyone in the tent held their breath, not daring to utter a sound, watching intently as the fine drill, inch by inch, pierced into the skull. Yang Hu's wrist was as steady as a rock; the fine drill slowly and with meticulous precision pierced the skull.

Once the drilled hole was reached, a stream of dark red blood slowly seeped out through the small hole.

"He's bleeding! This is the blood clot pressing on his brain."

Once the blood stasis was released, Sun Baihu, who had previously shown no reaction, suddenly let out a violent groan, and his tightly closed eyelids twitched slightly.

Time passed little by little.

The unconscious Commander Sun gradually recovered under the methods of drilling his skull and bleeding him. His tightly closed eyes slowly opened, and his dilated pupils gradually shrank back.

Once again, Yang Hu pulled a fierce general back from the brink of death from the stone.

The military doctors who had previously mentioned "preparing for the aftermath" were all stunned when they saw Sun Baihu, who had escaped death and slowly regained consciousness. They were speechless for a long time.

Having practiced medicine their entire lives, they had never encountered a patient with a head injury, unconscious and powerless. They could only shake their heads, sigh, and prepare a coffin; no one dared to operate on a person's head. Who could have imagined that a hole could be made in the skull, releasing the blood clots pressing on the brain, and miraculously pulling someone back from the brink of death?

"Dr. Yang's skill is simply divine." The old doctor stroked his beard again and again, and finally sighed.

Yang Hu did not answer. He had no way of explaining this method of piercing the skull and drawing blood to the people of this era. He only knew that this method could save lives.

And the one who was saved was a centurion who could lead troops to defend the city.

Commander Sun led about a hundred men, forming a solid pillar of defense for the western camp. If such a fierce general were to be lost because of a rolling stone, a section of the city wall would collapse.

In this bloody battle to defend the isolated city, saving a soldier meant gaining combat strength, and saving a general meant preserving a section of the wall. Sun Baihu's hundred or so men, without their leader, would likely have scattered after a while; now that he had returned to the city walls, alive and well, they had regained their leader. In this isolated city, saving a soldier and bringing him back to the walls was equivalent to adding another spear to the walls.

One hand draining blood from clots is worth a whole squad of fresh soldiers on the city wall. This might be empty talk elsewhere, but in this place of blood and fire, Qing Shi Kou, it is a very real truth.

Sun Baihu slowly regained consciousness, looked at the young physician guarding his side, and weakly but solemnly squeezed out a few words from his throat.

"Dr. Yang, you're the one who pulled me back from the brink of death."

"Take care of him," Yang Hu said calmly. "I saved your life from under that rock. Rest assured and recover. Once you're well, go back up to the city wall and guard Qing Shi Kou for a few more days, and kill a few more barbarians."

Sun Baihu nodded weakly, his eyes filled with gratitude for surviving the ordeal.

After tidying up, Yang Hu straightened up and, without saying a word, threw the blood-stained cloth in his hand into the brazier.

Last night's mysterious fire at the military court, and today's bloody battle on the city walls, all these incidents, when traced back to their origins, were all caused by that one hand hidden in the central army, colluding with the barbarians, and wielding absolute power.

The more soldiers he has under his command, the narrower his escape route becomes.

The blood-stained cloth in the brazier rolled up at the edge, curled up, and slowly burned into a small lump of black ash. He stared at the ash for a long time without moving.

The roll of military reports snatched from the fire last night is now hidden close to my body. The signature on it is another thread leading to that hand. Following it, that deeply hidden hand will eventually be exposed.